At the pebbled edge of the mountain stream, I stood awestruck by the beauty of the location I stumbled into. There was a moment when the presence of benevolent spirits seemed to whisper their welcome. The cool air created by the cascading water chilled my skin, and the hair on my arms lifted, charged with the tingle of electric current.
The water flowed through an amphitheater of stone walls, and on the far side up a steep bank was a flat area with Ginko trees among moss-covered boulders that tumbled down from the mountain above and eventually sank into the sand leaving only the round tops protruding out. Upstream was a waterfall, and at my feet was a pool of clear emerald water. The far side was deep with a swift current. I decided to climb up the shallow bank of the fall and look for a place to cross over.
Once I reached the top of the shallow falls, it was an easy hop across the rocks to the far side that opened into the amphitheater. I saw no sign that anyone had come this way in recent times. With my luck, it was a forbidden site where demons took their vacay away from hauntings, and I stumbled right into their picnic. No worries, I set up a camp under a tree with some nice stone cover from the sides and decided I would stay overnight and finish the trip to the village the next day. At that moment, I was thirsty, hot, and hungry. I cured the first two problems with a dip in the pool and hauled some water back to boil. While the ritual purification was going on, I went back to the water basin and made a small fish trap from weaved grass reeds and baited it with an Apple Snail.
A little worry crept into my mind because my basket weaving skills weren’t up to the local standard, and being hungry was my certain fate. I decided to scout for a few minutes to see if there was any wild food lounging around. Downstream was a flat area filled with cattails, and I pulled two up to munch on. The stem on top of the roots is like celery with a sweet taste. I peeled the outer skin and chewed so loud and fast that I irritated myself ith my bad manners.
My Frankenstein fish trap gave up six small fish I recognized as a favorite dish among the locals, and it seemed nature was making sure I stayed in this remote paradise. Rarely did I get a chance to camp in an area so quiet and beautiful, like a cultured Zen garden with Mother Gaia, the only Gardner.
Dinner over, I snuggled among the rocks under the tree in my poncho liner lovingly named a woobie, and fell asleep. Sometime in the night, startled awake by a sound or movement, I rose from a cold sweat listening to the night sounds and the river running beside me, unperturbed by anything but the rocks impeding its path. I looked up at the bright stripe of the Milky Way, a slash of light in the ink-black cosmos sprayed with the glitter of stars. A streak of light across the night sky took me back to another time and place.
***
The gate at a remote airbase had no lights. The entire base was deserted and in blackout conditions. The adjoining city had experienced a power outage that darkened the area. Not even backup generators were running.
My aid was a Special Forces Psyops soldier busted down to Corporal, his only sin being schizophrenic and always off his meds. His job had been to destroy the minds of the enemies of the state, and in doing so, he had destroyed his mind. I chose him because he would soon be separated from the Army, and as a certified mentally ill person, his testimony would never be accepted as valid in any court in the western world. Unfortunately, we weren’t in the west.
After the guard accepted my password to his challenge, we were let in, and with the lights off, we made our way to the flight line. There we found an Air Force Pathfinder guiding in our package. He was in full battle rattle with a locked and loaded weapon. We gave our password, and he settled back down with his radio. He had already set up small infrared markers and a homing beam, so the plane didn’t miss the runway.
Overhead the Milky Way inconveniently lit up the night sky, giving me a clear view of tiny pencil flames racing across the sky. Fighter escorts with the Traffic Control plane and refueler ambled across the sky electronically watching for any movements, missiles, or otherwise unwelcomed activity.
My whacky sidekick mused that we must be accepting a very important gift. I laughed. “We could end civilizations and collapse governments if our world domination competitors found out what you and I were doing.”
“Cool, Sarge,” he replied. I could see the demons whispering in his ear by the wide-eyed stare at the sky and the twitching of the corner of his mouth. Then he mentioned casually, “God thinks we should do it.”
“Do What,” I asked.
“End civilization,” he answered.
Thankfully, he didn’t know the rounds in his pistol were dummies. Mine was not. I glanced at the Pathfinder, and he gave me the thumbs up and three fingers. Three minutes and I would witness the most costly Cold War sleight of hand in recent decades.
Engines raced toward us. I saw the plane as it came alongside us. The aircraft was a C-130 painted black with no lights on and no markings of any kind. There was no way to know who delivered this package, and no one would ask. The tailgate dropped as the plane’s rear wheels barely touched the runway. The aircraft was angled steeply as a small but heavy Korean War-era GI footlocker slid out and chased the plane as if contesting its unceremonious dumping. The Black Falcon raced the engines and roared back into the sky, disappearing again. Two attack helicopters appeared at each end of the runway, rotating slowly to survey the area with their night vision scopes. Thirty-millimeter guns on the nose swiveled and pointed at various things, and then the choppers lifted higher, signaling us the coast was clear.
Our beat-up old camouflaged Chevy Blazer was the most indistinct vehicle we could find. The vehicle was used by the local troops to ferry parts and supplies on the post and would not raise any suspicions. I drove up next to the old bedraggled foot locker, and we tried to lift it and put it in the back. It was damned heavy, and the handles felt like they would tear loose any second. The bottom of the footlocker sagged.
“What in hemorrhoid Hell is in here, Sarge?”
“Hell Corporal, just Hell.”
“I am the Alpha and the Omega, says the Lord God, who is and was and is to come – The Almighty.”
My freaky friend was quoting Revelations by memory. It made me question his insanity scam until he continued.
“And I will bust a cap in your ass if you piss me off, Amen.”
He was a half bubble out of level and probably off his meds again. I didn’t plan on shooting him. I liked him. I was just going to roll with it. Two soldiers with too much brain pain and nightmares to not be disposable drove down the road quoting lines from Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy with enough boom in the back to wipe out an entire country. I loved the feeling of power it gave me. My Freaky friend had forgotten why we were there and was now telling me his entire history of prostitutes he had known and dearly loved.
We drove into the warehouse and switched to an Armored Hummer. Two armed escorts fell in with us as we made our way to another base 30 miles away, where there was a special place to keep our little friends.
***
Memories are constant companions and help those alone to pass through fear to the other side. The stars winked their approval, and the jungle was loud with insects buzzing and the cough and whine of nocturnal animals. I decided to skinny dip in the dark pool of water until I remembered I was edible to most night creatures. I returned to my woobie, chill and wet smelling fresh as morning grass. Dreams overtook me, and demons had their fun.
Americans coming with Napalm to ruin your idyllic setting. Remember Napalm? There you are in paradise, the only thing missing are seductive sirens, beautiful naked natives skinny dipping and singing their siren song, while a plane loaded with Weapons of Mass Destruction sneaks the fuck in, drops their load like an unwelcome shit, and takes off. Your schizo buddy on edge with the ability to flip out on a moment’s notice. This puts me on edge so much so that I me wish I had been to ‘Nam…but almost, not quite. You’ve lived an exciting life with great moments, and as you sit there in your rocker, you recall them well. Exceedingly well. Keep this goin’ bro. It’s tantalizing.
Glad to see you up and about.
Thank you Chris. Any similarities in writing style with you and Sherry is a testament to how much both of you have influenced me and given light to a dark and sketchy life. Now, it’s all about living from one gleeful moment to the next while Nero plays his fiddle and the Huns are burning Rome. I finally figured out I’d rather read a vampire chapter or drift thru Sherry’s ASMR narrative and stunning cinematography and Rome can do whatever Rome pleases without me.
Napalm. It solved a lot of tactical problems instantly. I was angry when we decided to stop using it. Napalm, like so many effective solutions to enemy infestations, was indiscriminate, and impossible to limit collateral damage. The hypocrisy of war can never be eliminated no matter what methods one side chooses over the other. Russia is forcing us to see what war without a conscience is like and the west is struggling with the ghost of horrors past. I was fortunate to visit the Highlands post war after life had returned to normal so I did get to see the country and people living life at full throttle. I’m sure now that my approach to avoid being scene was likely unnecessary, still, it let me practice my skills and kept me on my toes. I’m weaving all the vignettes of other experiences into this one just to keep the story in a story going. 20 years after that plane dropped its cargo, CNN broke the story as a sort of exposé of America’s Cold War shell game and the foreign country’s involved with us endured some shattering protests. It did a lot of damage unnecessarily. I can’t imagine how many bribes we would have had to pay if that had leaked out at the time of occurrence. My Psyops buddy was indeed kicked out of the Army and after 5 years was arrested when he returned to the same country the mission was carried out in. I was notified that he was looking for me with the intent of assassinating me. It seems some of his demons convinced him I was the evil genius behind his suffering. If I had shot him as was the accepted protocols for keeping things quiet, I wondered if I wouldn’t have performed a merciful act. It just wasn’t my style to shoot people who could very accurately quote from the Bible. My, how things have changed in that regard. Stay tuned. The seductive sirens are coming up later. The lead in poem was the hint.
I do enjoy the synergy we share in telling our stories, like the Oracle we are laying out a prophetic vision of things to come. I will always be a fan of the void and the mysteries it holds for us.
You’ve just given me an idea: I might create another blog, like you did, and only invite a few people. It would feel to me to be more like a writer’s club, by invitation only. Lemme think on’t.
That’s what I did. I’ve never done anything to gain readership, a reader either stays because they like the story or they abandon ship for other locales more suited to their liking. But mostly my closest blogoteer buddies have followed me over here and we can be loud and boisterous without violating any rules of public decorum.
Thank you Judy! It’s one part of a multipart poem I wrote several years ago but it has relevance to the story and I felt it belong there. Thank you for taking note of it.
I’m truly awed by your ability to create such vivid images in this journey you are on Dan. Such an intriguing write, the intro is stunning. Thank you for taking us along. It’s unforgettable.
Thank you for your unwavering support, Rene. As we travel along in our commentary adventures, which I dearly love and enjoy, here is another unabridged look at some of my adventures in the past when Uncle Sam paid all my expenses and picked out some amazing places for me to visit. I am so pleased to have you along. This time, I’m with dear friends and that feeling of aloneness is gone for good and forever. And, I don’t miss it.
Your past has remained fresh in your memories as it should, your writing is powerful and persuasive. The wars are still fresh , Korea and Vietnam, and more recently Afghanistan, and now the horrors of the Russian war in Ukraine. I believe that war is a natural state of being for mankind and doubt we will ever have peace on earth. Your comments reveal even more about your experiences Dan. Isolation effects us in many ways, loneliness is brutal. Your writing has that rare ability to carry us with you.
My past does remain fresh. In a way, I have transformed the darkness into an introspection and redemption that compels me to try to show others that following that same ole path to conflict is not the answer we need. I give glimpses of what I was before but also what I evolved to as a result of those experiences. I have the honor of not blaming anyone for my experiences in life, I was fully aware and made my choices. That doesn’t mean I didn’t question my choices at times. 😲😳😬. At this point in life, no regrets, just tons of wild memories to entertain myself with.
Your transition from the present to the past was very cinematic. I feel sorry for the Freaky friend. Whatever happened to him in the end? Layers upon layers of memories. Good thing you can sort out them out. A person could go crazy with each crashing wave washing over one after the next.
Hi Hetty! Thanks for stopping by. I can’t do the box drop scene Justice to the impression it left on me. While in many ways it was business as usual, and business was always unusual with a parade of sketchy characters. My Freaky Friend was deported back to the US and disappeared. I hope he got help. He really needed someone in his life to look after him. He could be easily treated and live a normal life but many times the person can’t logically process taking the medication and readjusting to normal thought patterns on their own. I honestly got much more than I bargained for out of life. I probably lived a dozen lifetimes worth of adventure and human interactions of the most bizarre and sometimes magnificent levels. I’m scarred from the top of my head to my toes from injuries and my inward self is beat up too but I feel lucky and happy to get along rather good, kind of like an old Tom cat with a chewed up ear, who has retired to the good life of Kibbles and Bits with limitless nap time available. The litter box is close by. I made it, so no complaints. I’d act far less impulsively if offered to do it again. 😳 Wait. What?
Hyperion Sky 
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