Blogger's Note: "5,4,3,2... and go!" A man holding a clipboard held his hand out to keep me from going yet. I peeked through a slit in the curtain. After a short commercial break, the studio audience was cheering and applauding per the instructions flashing overhead, out of the camera's view. But, aside from the lighted 'APPLAUSE' sign, everyone just seemed electric tonight. They were waiting for my appearance, and that always got my blood pumping. I listened as Letterman began his routine introduction.
"Our next guest needs no introduction," he began casually. "His children's book, 'That's Poop! Don't Eat That!' won the John Newbery Medal last year. His ideas for charity were credited with housing thousands of the homeless, and he has found families for millions of lovable orphans. His statue is currently being erected beside the Statue of Liberty, and he single-handedly found a cure for cancer using a perfect ratio of Miller Light and Pop-Secret Homestyle Popcorn! Without further ado, here's the writer, the scientist, the humanitarian, the football star: Duane Edwards!!!!!!!"
The man holding the clipboard lowered his arm and ushered me onto the stage; his arms flapping hurriedly. The audience was on their feet, cheering and screaming. I walked out, waving and smiling at my fans. David was going to have quite a time getting them to settle down.
Sure enough, after Mr. Letterman shook my hand and I found my seat, he spent a few seconds encouraging everyone to calm down. I could see my wife sitting in the front row, pumping her fist in the air. At last, after the last shout petered out, he sat at his desk, took a sip of coffee, and addressed me.
"Wow. Where do we begin? Apparently, you have a big announcement tonight?" The audience stirred. "But, we'll get to that in a minute. First, I want to ask the big question. Could you please describe and explain to us the final seconds of the SuperBowl? Carson Palmer and Drew Stanton were sidelined with injuries. Down by 5 points, the clock stopped at 2 seconds in the final quarter, timeout was called as head coach Bruce Arians scrambled to find a quarterback. You stepped out of the stands, quickly threw on a jersey and a helmet, and ran onto the field (no one even knew that was legal, but apparently you found a loophole). What happened next was described by John Madden, as, excuse my language, 'what the fuckin' hell?' Could you please describe for us how you managed to pull off a pass and reception for 150 yards to win the game!?! I mean, the field is only a hundred yards long after all! Terry Bradshaw called it the 'single greatest play in the history of the sport!' He says he has reviewed it over and over and still can't see how you pulled it off!"
"Well, it wasn't easy, David," I began.
"Take out the trash, Duane!" my wife was yelling from the front row. God, I love her; she's always cheering me on.
"It's a little too complicated to explain between commercial breaks," I continued. "Someday, when we have more time, I'll break it down for everyone. All I can say, is that, my man, Fitzgerald, was under quadruple coverage, so I had to come up with something really clever on the fly."
"Take out the fucking trash, Duane!" Shit, I hoped they beeped that out. My crazy, Polish wife was cursing from the front row. It was her way of encouraging me, but she was getting carried away. Letterman didn't seem to notice.
"Also, there's rumors that you're giving dance lessons to Beyonce. Is there any truth to that rumor?" David asked me candidly.
"Well, I wouldn't do that for just anybody. But Beyonce is almost there. I've just been giving her some pointers. Once I built the foundation, she seemed to be perfectly capable of running away with it. She's quite the pupil," I confessed.
"Well, let's get to that major announcement now. What is it that you came here to tell us, Duane?"
"David, I've decided to go back to what I love. I've decided to go back to writing the regular features of my blog." As soon as the words left my mouth, the fans stood. They were cheering and shouting madly. My wife most of all.
"Parenting with Lightsabers? After all of your escapades, winning awards, curing cancer, getting a SuperBowl ring, saving orphans, posing for Playgirl, I never thought you'd go back to your blog. After you went to Italy, you just sort of left us hanging with your 'How We Met' story. We thought you'd just moved on to bigger and better things."
"David, I just needed a break. And I'm picking up with Alanaka first. She was on my mind a lot in Italy. I've got some big ideas for her."
"Well, I, for one, can't wait to read..."
A loud thud, like thunder, boomed all around me. The studio audience disappeared behind a white kitchen wall. David Letterman transformed into a bib-clad little girl with oatmeal circling her mouth. Only Joanna remained, but she was much closer. Her face was right next to mine, and she was shouting. "I swear to God, if you don't take the fucking trash out right now, I'm going to punch you in the face!"
I pushed my chair out, stood, and took out the fucking trash.
If you haven't already, you'll want to get caught up before you continue. Read "Alanaka" and follow the links to read the previous episodes...
Listening to: "Melancholy Hill" - Gorillaz (Feed Me Remix)
The Zephyr vibrated slightly as they flew through a patch of turbulence. Alanaka looked up from the stack of papers that she had been reading. Her eyes had that glossy confusion of someone returning to the real world from a foray into the imagination. Mason was in the passenger seat in front of her; he had spent the last couple of hours editing his Automatronic's vocal prompts much to the amusement of her brother Boston who sat beside her.
Despite the two boys' antics, a cloak of anxiety felt palpable in the cabin they shared. Since her mother had tried to contact them while they had been underwater, they had intermittently checked to see if their PIB's would work without the help of the Skip Rope. They still would not. Alanaka was worried that they might be in big trouble when they got back home, and the fear of the still-inoperable PIB's lingered like a bad toothache. She had thought that they would have been working by now.
Mason, having grown bored with his mechanical friend, noticed Alanaka returning the pages from her ancient journal to her backpack. He rationed a slice of the moment for a bit of conversation. "So, do you think your mom's gonna be upset that we took your dad's Corvette?"
"While the PIB's aren't working? She's going to blow a hover turbine!" Alanaka exclaimed. Her voice lacked conviction, however. She still seemed to be returning from wherever she had been.
"Well, our PIB's are sorta working..." Mason proposed. "And... we don't have to tell her...I mean, assuming she hasn't gotten home yet..."
Boston perked at his spoken thought; he turned to his sister to gauge her reaction. Instead of replying, she gazed out the window, suddenly interested in the wisps of clouds that feathered the sky. The span of silence that followed was occasionally dappled by a vibrating rumble from the shifting cabin. Alanaka surprised herself by being concerned with the Corvette's integrity; she wasn't sure how to deal with these newly-discovered worries for her well-being. Sure, they had the Skip Rope's safety net; but, now, that seemed so limited.
"Where are we going to take the cellular phone?" Boston interrupted the engine's drone by directing a question at his sister.
Alanaka felt aggravated with this prodding responsibility that they were giving her. She had gotten them this far; couldn't they offer some of their own ideas?
"I was thinking..." Alanaka's PIB began flashing a slow, deep blue. Her mother was calling.
Boston and Mason turned in unison to the young girl. She frowned back at them before responding. "Mom?" she began.
"Alanaka, where did you go???" the voice speaking from her PIB was certainly her mother's, but it was staticky with some sort of electrical interference. "You come back here right now!"
"We're coming, Mom!" Alanaka shouted, trying to be heard over the hindering, background noise. "No, baby. Forget I said that. We have to go. It's now or never, so we're going to give it a try. I love you, baby. Your dad says he loves you. Tell Boston that I said I love you! Tell him I said to take care of his sister! And tell Mason his parents are above us; we can't get to them. We don't know if they're... Are you safe now?" She sounded frantic; something wasn't right. Alanaka's heart was pounding; and, by the looks of her crew-mates, they, too, were feeling the anxiety.
"Mom! We're ok! We're coming home now! We got something that might help with the malfunctioning PIB's! Where are you? What's wrong, mom? You're scaring me!"
"Oh, baby. Don't be scared. We're still at the worm. Listen we have to... oh, they're firing. They just shot Arian. Oh my love, they shot Arian. What do they want?? Come on, Barry; it's now or never. We love you so much. Be safe, we're going to give this a try... Stay with Shendra for now. It's not as..." The PIB quit flashing that deep blue that had always meant her mother was calling; the quiet that filled everyone's ears was deafening. Alanaka was crying.
"Mom!!! Mom!?!? Mom, come back, mom!!! Mom, please answer!!! Mom, what's going on!?!? Who's Shendra?? Who got shot? Mom what are you talking about? Dad, Dad, are you there??? I don't understand!!! I don't understand!!! Why won't you..."
"Alanaka." Boston placed his hand comfortingly on his sister's forearm. Tears were dripping across her cheeks; he was pretty certain that his eyes, too, were watery. Mason was volleying his attention between the two in the back. "What's happening?" Mason asked hoarsely.
He fidgeted, waiting for an answer from the two in the back; their silence was unbearable. "We have to go to the sky tower," he voiced. "We'll go to the worm and then find my parents!"
Boston and Alanaka just looked at him. The worm was below ground level at the sky tower. Scientists had discovered centuries ago how to create a wormhole. They could control it by expanding it and contracting it. A living creature had no way to survive the gravitational equivalent of a thousand stars, so a PIB's force field had been designed to repel away from active wormholes. An active PIB would keep its wearer from being able to enter, repulsing from it like a magnet to a magnet. For years, physicists decided that wormholes had no applicable use. Until, one day, someone decided that they might be used for waste disposal. The planet had been overflowing with pollutants, and landfills had been filled with heaping mounds of trash. Controlled wormholes were created as a way to abdicate the planet of its pollution and waste; Alanaka's father Barry was responsible for the worm in Seattle.
"I don't think we should go there," Boston sounded as though he were thinking out loud.
"We have to!" Mason interjected. "Your mother doesn't realize that we have PIBs that are working! With the Skip Rope, we might be able to get to them! My parents work on the 276th floor! If we can't get to the worm, at least we can get to them with the Zephyr! We have to try!"
Boston and Alanaka looked at each other. They were searching each other for a voice of reason. Mason could tell that they were about to try and convince him that going to the sky tower would be a bad idea. He didn't wait for a response.
"Harry, set a course for the Seattle sky tower, just outside the 276th floor." Mason set his jaw and stared out the windshield. His demeanor dared either of the backseat's occupants to oppose his lone decision.
"Fuckin' A, bitch." The RX-47's head was rotating again, mockingly. Alanaka and Boston were looking at each other, non-verbally encouraging one another to speak some sense into the boy. Seattle was still nearly an hour away, so they had some time to come up with a game plan. They knew that the Automatronic would only respond to Mason, so negating his order wouldn't be possible.
"Mason," Alanaka began softly. "The Skip Rope will protect us from harm if we all stay close together. I don't know what's going on at the sky tower; but, if someone wanted to hurt us, all they would have to do is physically separate us from one another. That wouldn't be very hard to do. I'm sure your parents want you to be safe, and..."
"I know, I know," Mason interrupted. "But we scope it out. Maybe we can do something. We can just take a look. I went on your stupid adventure, now you can go on mine."
Boston and Alanaka shared a look in the back seat. With the deaths in Hong Kong, the PIBs' malfunctioning, and their parents' seeming peril, the two siblings bore their affections despite their conjoined insecurities. "Mason, we'll take a look. If there's something we can do, we will. But if we decide it's too dangerous, you had better tell Harry to take us home. If you don't, Alanaka will turn off the Skip Rope, and..." Boston paused. He had never physically threatened anyone before. And wasn't he being callous considering his friend's trepidation? He was just afraid that Mason wouldn't listen to the voice of reason if and when that time came, and Harry would only respond to his ardent friend.
Alanaka started crying, so Boston reached over to hug his younger sister to him. "Boston, what if.. what if..."
"They're ok. I just know it. Don't think like that," Boston encouraged. Mason peeked over his shoulder. By the look in his eyes, he was wrestling demons of his own; and, he wasn't faring very well. And just past him, the Seattle sky tower came into view.
It was still quite a distance ahead of them, but it introduced even more unwanted feelings into their well of fears. They never should have gone on this trip!
"You are entering restricted air space. Reroute immediately or you may be fired upon." A voice spoke from the Zephyr's console. Boston grabbed the front seat and pulled himself forward. He was grasping for a better perspective, Did someone just say that to them?
"Repeating. You have entered restricted air space. Reroute immediately or we will be forced to respond."
"Turn us around, Mason!" Alanaka shouted.
Mason didn't acknowledge her. He turned around to look at Boston, daring him to do something. "Mason, turn us around right now! Alanaka, turn off the Skip Rope!" Boston insisted.
"If you try anything, I'll have Harry stop you!" Mason declared.
"You have five seconds to change course. If you do not, we will disable your craft." At last, they could see the source of the voice. Two Zephyrs, each twice the size of their Corvette, had pulled alongside them. The three children sat coasting in the middle, screaming at Mason, and trying to wave at the pilots beside them.
The two escorts that surrounded their dad's Corvette displayed the seal of the World Union and were outfitted with four Blister cannons each: two in the front and two in the back. Alanaka knew that one good shot from just one of those cannons could obliterate them. "Mason!!! Do what they say!!!" Alanaka screamed.
She could clearly see the uniformed men waving at them, insisting they turn around. She turned to her brother, pleading with her eyes for him to do something, anything.
"Mason, you tried. We tried. The only reason they haven't shot us down is because they see kids in here. But, that won't stop them for long. Our Skip Rope won't help much if we're scattered into three directions. Turn us around, Mason. We'll figure out some way to get to your parents, but this isn't the way..."
Mason turned to look at his closest friend. His eyes seemed exhausted as he spoke, "Harry, turn us around."
"Fuckin' A, bitch." Just as the Automatronic pulled on the steering controls with a digital wink, a loud explosion rocked the crew of juveniles. The sound was deafening as the World Union Zephyr to their right blossomed into a bright ball of fire. Metallic debris clanked off their Corvette, but they didn't have a worry to spare for the cosmetic welfare of Mr. Montgomery's pride and joy. Every ounce of energy that they possessed had been expeditiously allocated to their preservation of life. Their lives.
"What happened???" Mason shouted as Harry had nearly completed his instruction of reversing course.
"I see two more Zephyrs!" Boston shouted as he looked out his side of the back seat. Alanaka and Mason craned their necks to look in that direction. Two Zephyrs that looked very similar to the two World Union escorts were approaching them. The most notable difference was that these newcomers were painted a sleek black. "Mason! Tell Harry to avoid those! Their cannons are turning on us!" Boston shouted.
"Harry! Evade the two, black Zephyrs!" Mason ordered the Automatronic. "Fuckin' A, bitch," Harry replied as the RX-47, its head spinning chaotically, quickly descended between the approaching strangers.
Another explosion rocked the crew. This time, one of the black Zephyrs had been eliminated. The children turned around to see one of the World Union escort's cannons still smoking. "You kids get out of here now! I'll cover you for as long as I can!"
"Harry, full speed! Get us out of here!" Mason ordered. The Automatronic spoke his usual affirmation as it throttled the Corvette. The black Zephyr turned to follow.
"He's coming after us!" Alanaka screamed. "He's going to catch us! Mason, do something!"
"Harry, evade the black Zephyr. Adjust course. Head to the Seattle sky tower!" Mason started shouting.
"Do what!?!" Alanaka screamed as the Automatronic acknowledged its new instructions.
"We have to get out of this thing! We can go to the landing platform and take cover inside the sky tower! We're sitting ducks out here!" Mason retorted.
"He's right!" Boston's head shot around as his eyes searched for the location of the remaining black Zephyr.
As the Automatronic adjusted the course, cannon fire rocked the Corvette, shifting the children in their seats. Alanaka watched as the World Union escort attempted to distract their pursuer with some wild shots. The escort's pilot didn't seem to have a very good aim. Looping around, the ebony bird-of-prey circled back on an intercept course for the children's defenseless cruiser.
"Mason! Does Harry have an Iconographic Retention System?" Boston shouted.
"Yeah. Remember, we were..." Mason began, but Boston quickly interrupted.
"Remember that time we were playing Starship Warriors IV at your house? Tell him to demonstrate the final five minutes of our last game! Quick, Mason! Tell him!"
Mason volleyed the instructions to the RX-47. "Fuckin' A, bitch," their pilot winked just before he steered the Corvette into a corkscrew that sent Alanaka scrambling for something to hold on to. The three children screamed in unison as a blast of cannon-fire shot just above them. Harry continued swerving left and right and down and up, avoiding imaginary plasma torpedoes.
"We never should have went on this stupid trip!!!" Mason yelled as they suddenly pulled up to see the sky tower just ahead of them.
"What in the world are you kids..." But the World Union escort didn't finish his sentence. Nor would he ever finish a sentence. His Zephyr exploded into a thunderous cloud of debris. A brief moment of silence was suddenly interrupted by their own screams when the dark bird-of-prey flew through the carnage it had just created.
"Get us to the landing pad at the top, Mason!!!" Alanaka screamed.
Mason relayed the orders; Harry obliged. The Corvette shot up vertically, following the contours of the sky tower on its ascending route. Their pursuer circled around the stem of the tower, angling for a good shot.
As they crested the sky tower, Mason shouted landing instructions. Their Zephyr began descending onto the landing platform. The drop to the terrace seemed to take forever, and she had a striking memory of how her dad could flawlessly land his prized Zephyr so smoothly that she wouldn't even realize that they were descending. The recollection bruised her spirit. And to strike hope away even further, the black Zephyr suddenly appeared rising out of some nearby clouds like a shark's fin. "We have to get inside!" she shouted.
As soon as they reached the platform's surface, the children scrambled to open the doors and climb out of the Corvette. As Alanaka heard the cannons firing she had a despairing thought that she didn't want that sound to be the last she'd ever hear. She thought that their force shields might be enough to save them now that they were together on the platform. They ran as fast as they could to the door about twenty yards away; and, just as she dared to dream about salvation, the door opened. A short, bearded man wearing baggy clothes and a purple turban stepped out. He was followed closely by what must have been ten soldiers holding rifles of some sort, all aimed at them.
The trio of adventurers almost tripped over one another as they slid to a stop. When they regained their balance, they began slowly backing toward the edge of the tower. The squad of soldiers advanced accordingly. Alanaka nearly fell to her knees; she was certainly willing to beg for her life if her pleas would have any significant effect. She suspected that they would not.
Just as the man sporting the purple turban began to raise his hand to say something, a blast from the black, circling Zephyr overhead crashed into the platform just in front of them, splintering the ground. The concussive blast sent Boston, the nearest to the edge, over the side. For some inexplicable reason, Alanaka didn't even pause to blink. She grabbed Mason's hand, grasped it firmly... and leapt.
Sometimes you can't think.
Her first thought was how cold it suddenly was; she was having trouble breathing as a torrent of chilly air flapped her like a cracking whip. The landing platform was surrounded by a climate field that kept the temperature and the oxygen in its vicinity at a comfortable level. Now that they were clear of that, she was freezing. Mason began screaming uncontrollably. Far ahead, Boston was spiraling to his doom.
You can't consider or contemplate or weigh the odds or even blink.
"Mason!! Straighten your body! We have to dive faster!!!" Alanaka tried to scream louder than the boy's horrified shrieks. Despite her certainty that he was beyond reason, Mason stretched vertically, frigidly diving with the insane girl that had a death grip on his hand.
Because if you do, you'll never leap.
Boston disappeared into a layer of clouds, and Alanaka had a despairing premonition that he would, in that blinding mist, be slammed against the protruding midsection of the sky tower. At the speed that they were descending, he wouldn't...
She shook away the thought. She steeled her jaw and dove.
And if you do leap, it'll be too late.
She could feel Mason's panic creeping like ivy from his hand to hers, up her arm, and into her head. He had quit screaming and had clinched his eyes shut.
Because the moment is gone.
Once through the clouds, she could see Boston ahead. He was closer, but her brother still seemed to be impossibly out of reach. She may have made a mistake. She tried to imagine herself sleek, like a bullet, zipping through the air.
The opportunity missed.
"Boston!!!" she cried. "Lay flat!!! Try to slow yourself down!!" Boston apparently heard her. He twisted his body so that he was falling horizontally. The ground behind him was closing in fast.
You throw away whatever is weighing you down, grab the hand of courage, and leap heart-first.
She could see Boston fall past a bird that was gliding near the stem of the tower. A moment after her eyes had registered what it was, she fell past it. She looked up and tried not to consider what might have happened if she would have collided with it at the speed that she was descending. When she looked back down, Boston was just out of arm's reach.
And then dive into your fear with nothing but faith that someone you love will be waiting for you with open arms.
And just when she was certain that her stupid adventure was going to have a very abrupt ending, she heard, "Triangulating PIBs. PIBs synchronized." A loud crash immediately followed.
Alanaka tried to gather her wits. A blinding cloud of dust shrouded the world around her. She still held Mason's hand, and his whimpers confirmed that he was okay. She braced herself and tried to stand.
"Alanaka?" Boston's voice spoke. She began to realize that she had landed on top of him. She scrambled to turn over; she wanted, she needed, to hug him. Boston reciprocated. They held each other, wordlessly sniffling, as Mason ran into them and wedged himself into the embrace. The three stood in what the dissipating cloud of dust revealed to be a crater that their death plunge had created. Boston dared to chuckle; his two companions, for some inexplicable reason, emulated his mirth in a tripod of gaiety.
They continued in this fashion for a spell until a voice from above them molested their rejoicing. "Don't move!"
Alanaka searched through the dust for the voice's source. Circling the crater above, a ring of soldiers had them surrounded with rifles that were aimed into their interrupted huddle. She could see that their uniforms sported the World Union emblems as stern expressions dared the children to move.
Two of the soldiers parted to allow a bright-eyed, smirking man entry. He wore the epaulets of rank, but Alanaka didn't need to see his ceremonial gear to recognize the self-confidence and authority of a general. The man knelt to peer down into the aperture as his smirk widened into an affectionate smile. After a brief pause to assess the unusual spectacle, he offered an open hand into the pit and spoke. "I think you kids need to come with me..."
(to be continued...)
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