I am something of an anti-poet.  In fact, I would rate my poetic skill around negative three.  Add to that the fact that so many say rhyming poetry is not to be taken seriously and worthy of Doctor Seuss at best, and there you go.  If I am going to write something against making excuses about getting the words on paper and getting it out there to be read by others, it is only fair I do so with a rhyming poem…

No Excuses

I’ve got the kids, the dog and the cat
The TV and radio, noises like that
But I tune it all out when I sit in my chair
In order to write like there’s nobody there.
 
Daytimes are madness: storms on the sea
Ships in foul weather, crew mutiny.
Trains in collision, pileups with cars
Black holes of reason, exploding stars
 
Children, animals, customer kings
Workers, bosses, multi-task things
Paper and phones, gossip and news
Headaches, backaches and shoes, shoes, shoes, shoes.
 
Leaving at sunrise.  Home after dark
To blazing crescendo as soon as I park
It’s homework and talk, make sure everyone’s fed
Walk the dog, pet the cat, and put all to bed
 
Then at last there’s a moment when quiet descends
Like snow on Christmas Eve.

And I thank God because of that one special chair
Where I sit and I write like there’s nobody there.

            Glen found himself about six years old which would make it 1959 or 1960. Back then, he attended the big Presbyterian Church in town with his family and listened to very Presbyterian sermons, if you know what I mean.  The one on that day was about love, and what he heard was God loves us so much, he died for us.  God gave himself to us completely.  Unfortunately, we cannot love God in the same way in return.  We are not going to die for God nor can we give ourselves completely to him in the same way.  God simply has no need for us in that way.  So the way we love God is to love our neighbor.  When we give ourselves completely to our neighbor, we are loving God.  Please understand.  At that time, Martin Luther King Jr. was still crusading, words like diversity and social justice had not yet been invented, and liberalism had not yet seriously infected the mainline churches, but it was all on the edge.  You get the idea. 

            The sermon that morning focused on feeding the hungry and clothing the naked and doing good works as a way of expressing love for God – and yes, that perspective on the Christian faith began that many years ago.  But even then, as young as Glen was, there was something about the sermon that did not sound right.  It seemed to him that doing good for our neighbors showed love for our neighbors, not God.  He saw God being cut out from the whole mix.

            That night, Glen went to bed with a simple prayer.  “God, I know loving my neighbor is important, but if you wouldn’t mind, could I love you, too?”   he went to sleep with that prayer still on his lips and in his breath.

            When Glen woke, he was much older, though of an indeterminate age.  His back was to a tree instead of his soft mattress.  The aroma, with his eyes shut tight, was glorious.  It smelled of life, and he could feel that life, somehow, flowing up the tree from roots deep in the soil.  No other word would do but life.  When he opened his eyes, he drew in his breath.  The tree at his back was bigger than anything he had ever seen.  It was bigger than the Empire State Building.  It was bigger than all the trees in all the world put together.  It was so big, he could not see the curvature in the trunk, though he walked a hundred yards away.

            Glen looked up to where the innumerable branches stretched out to catch the light.  The light must have been blinding in the heights.  He could not look straight up of course because of the branches, but in any case he could not see the top of the tree since it reached way beyond the clouds.

            Glen looked carefully at the branches and the first thing he noticed was the fruit.  It was round but variously sized and it appeared to be variously colored as well.  He noticed one near the trunk that was small and the color of copper, one that was green and swirled, one that was blue and covered with white swirls, and one that was red before the branch broke into a number of immature fruit.  Further out on the branch there was huge fruit with a big red spot.  The one beyond that had rings like stamen of a flower, and Glen closed his eyes and shook his head.  He was thinking of the solar system and letting his imagination run away with him.

            With his eyes closed again, Glen heard the song.  It was like the aroma, glorious.  He could not make out words, but it seemed to him there was meaning in that song, and he had to open his eyes again to see what was singing.  There were birds, white like doves, but the song they sang was complex beyond anything Glen could have made up, and beautiful beyond anything Glen could have imagined.  He was staring at a couple of birds, a smile across his face, when a blackbird jumped between two doves and let out a terrible squawk.  It startled him, but only for a second as the doves took that raucous sound and wove it into a thing of beauty.  Then he saw another blackbird and he looked closely again.  They were everywhere, trying to disrupt the glorious sounds of this heavenly host.  They never succeeded, as every sour note and every screech and whistle was taken up by the doves and woven perfectly into the whole.  The song was never less glorious for the least moment.

            Glen was glad.  He could not stop his lips from turning up in a smile for the warmth he felt inside.  He thought he would sit again with his back to that trunk where he could feel the pulse of life running up the veins of the tree of life, smell the aroma of life and hear the beauty of the music that was the praise of the heavens.  With that, he slept.

            Too far, Glen thought.  Alice, how did you make things at the beginning?  He asked himself and was surprised that Alice was not there in his subconscious to answer.  He had to think, and quick.  He expended his air at last with the words “Air bubble.”  And there was a bubble of air that instantly formed around him.  He quickly said, “Big air bubble to encompass everyone, and normal light.” And the air bubble grew until everyone was inside of it.  They were still floating weightless, but a quick scan around him told Glen that everyone would survive despite the hacking and gagging and gasping for breath. 

            Think, Glen told himself.  Way back at the beginning of time he remembered Alice appeared in a place on a rock.  The old god, Chronos was there along with Angel – that is what he called him anyway, if Angel was a him.  With that thought, he said, rock and stared down beneath his feet, though everyone’s feet were certainly not pointed in that direction.  Still, the rock began to grow and it continued until the air bubble became a dome.  Then he said, “Solid and heavy with gravity like a mountaintop on Earth.”  Everyone fell.

            Glen felt lucky.  He was the one who fell the farthest, then Roland, but the elf was nimble enough to avoid being hurt, and Boston, though she was young enough to also go without injury.  Some of the military equipment bumped rather hard, but Glen was not worried about that.   He felt he twisted his ankle.  He tried the word, “Heal,” but it had a minimal effect.  Meanwhile, Lockhart held up his bleeding hand which he used to catch himself.  Everyone watched in amazement as the bleeding stopped.  In only a few seconds the wound healed itself.

            “Because we are at the beginning of things?”  Boston wondered out loud.

            “The grace of our god.”  Roland had another suggestion and looked at Glen.

            “Some magical cure?” Lieutenant Harper asked.

            Glen shook his head.  “He is still filled with those Gaian healing chits that healed his back and legs.  They may help you, Lockhart, but you best not depend on them.  I’ll say it again, leaning on them is a good way to get killed.”

            “Understood.”  Lockhart responded shortly since he was already reaching out from the edge of the rock to touch the stuff of Primordial Chaos.

            “Big dome of air.  Plenty of air.”  Glen said and waved his hand.  The swirling mass complied and soon they had no fear of running out of air.

            “Doctor Procter?”  Roland knelt down beside the old man.  Doctor Procter was wearing the amulet, but held it and shook it like he was not seeing what he needed to see.

            “Lincoln?”  Meanwhile, Boston knelt down beside Lincoln because he looked ready to cry.

            “I’ll get our bearings in a minute,” the Doctor responded as Roland looked over at Boston and Lincoln.

            “No way she survived this, even with her magic.  I don’t see how.”  Lincoln let his tears flow.

            “Confession.”  Glen spoke loud enough to get everyone’s attention.  “I was afraid something like this might happen.  We went back further than I planned.  It all happened so fast.  I could not control it.  Alice is out of touch.  It may take a long time to get home, as I feared.”

            “What?”  Lockhart pulled away from the edge and even Lincoln looked up.

            Boston thought it through and lifted her voice in protest.  “But I can’t live 6500 years to get back to where I belong,”

            Glen waved off her complaint.  “The time gates should still be there where I am at the center.  Doctor Procter’s amulet should work as well.  How I get home may be a bit more problematic.”  He mumbled most of that.

            “Man!” Boston started again but stopped when she was interrupted by a great light at her back and a voice in her mind that simply said, “Do not be afraid.”

            Boston turned to see Lockhart, Glen and both soldiers on their knees, and she felt the need to join them, especially after Glen named their visitor.  “Angel.”

            “Come. Kairos.  Stand.  You are required to resolve this.”

            Glen got slowly to his feet while Angel did something to lessen his own light so the others felt less afraid.  They could look up, though none dared to look into Angel’s face.

            “How can I resolve this?”  Glen asked.

            The answer came without hesitation.  “You must offer yourself in place of the woman.”

            Glen stepped over to touch the sticky ooze.  “Will I die?”

            “I cannot say.”

            “Will Mingus return with the woman?”

            “I cannot say.”

            “Will I still be able to help my friends get home?” 

            “I cannot say.”

            “What?”  Lincoln found the courage to speak.  Perhaps it was the prospect of getting his wife back after all that inspired him.  “You do not know or you are not allowed to say?”

            “I cannot say.”  Apparently, that was the only answer they were going to get.

            Glen looked at the suffocating mass that surrounded them before he turned from the chaos at the edge of the rock to face them all.  He took the glowing golden ball out of his pouch and Boston saw that it was indeed an apple.  With a sharp knife that Glen also carried in his pouch he cut three slices.  He handed the first to Lincoln.  “Take and eat,” he said.  Lincoln ate the slice and at least half or more of his age fell away from him.  He was still older than Boston, but not much older.  He ended up around thirty at the most.

            “Take and eat.”  He handed a slice to Lockhart and with the same effect.  “The golden apple of youth,” he explained.  “You will age normally from this point, but I could not let a couple of old men face the time zones.  You wouldn’t live long enough to get home.”  He turned toward Boston.  “Sometimes you may have to run,” he confessed with a grin.  “And to you I give this slice for Alexis.  I know you won’t eat it because you won’t want to become a baby.  Tell her to take and eat as soon as she arrives.  And now the one minute review.”

            “It would be best to stay out of whatever trouble you can and not kill if you can help it.  Remember, no matter how impossible it may seem, these are real people in real time and they are capable of fear and pain and they will respond to hate as well as love and kindness.  I understand there may be times when you will have to defend yourselves.  Do not hesitate.  Remember also, if you die in the time zones you will stay dead.”   Glen looked at Angel, but there was nothing there for him to hold on to.  He needed to do this himself. 

            “Two things.  One:  The only difference between you and the people is they are confined to their place in time whereas you can move from zone to zone through the gates and can jump forward anywhere from a few years to fifty or so years at a time.  Whatever you take from time zone to time zone, will age a corresponding number of years based on the number of years in your time jump.  Two:  Don’t forget that Ashtoreth wanted to control and change time.  Some of her creatures are still out there.”  He paused before he added,  “Most dangers you can escape by simply going through the next time gate.  I suppose if they can follow you from time zone to time zone, you will know they are a real danger.”  He turned on the marines.

            “Decker and Harper.  You need to consider Lockhart your General, and in his absence, Lincoln is your Colonel.  If I recall, he was designated a light Colonel at one point with the CIA.  Anyway, they know more about what is involved than you do, so don’t get cocky or I‘ll see you stranded in some place unpleasant.  Is that clear?”

            “Sir, yes sir.”  Lieutenant Harper responded.  Decker said nothing, but he nodded his agreement.

            “Boston, you have the medical kit?”  Boston nodded.  “Let us hope you don’t have to use it.  Meanwhile, I have  filled your packs with bread-crackers since you don’t have to carry extra clothes.  The fairy weave you wear can be shaped to your needs, and just so you know, Boston has vitamins in the med kit since you won’t always get a square meal.  Oh yeah.”  He clapped his hands twice.  “So now you will understand and be understood whatever the language.  It will all just sound like English to you.  Now I have to go.”  Trouble does come in threes, he thought, and with the word, “Three,” he ran and leapt into the ooze before he changed his mind and chickened out. 

            Alexis immediately came back, Mingus clinging to her sleeve.  And after Boston gave Alexis the apple which was the biggest piece so she became more nearly Boston’s age of twenty-five, she flew into Lincoln’s arms and they kissed for a long time.

            Boston licked her fingers and became something closer to twenty-two.  Mingus fumed to see his daughter in the arms of that human, but with his son holding him back there was little he could do – not to mention the fact that the presence of the angel scared him beyond reason.  Lockhart, alone kept his head.

            “Glen.”  That was his first concern, and he touched the chaos gently with his outstretched hand.

            “My lady.”  The elf maid tried to wake Boston, but Boston was determined to sleep in.  She never had so comfortable a sleep in her whole life.  “My lady.”  It was no good.

            “Stand aside.”  The fairy fluttered down to the end of the bed and pulled out her wand.

            “Oh, no.”  The elf shut her eyes.  The fairy waved her wand and a spark struck Boston in the foot.  Boston sat up like she was charged with lightening.

            “What?  What?  I’m awake, mom!”  Then Boston’s eyes came into focus.  “Fairy,” she said, though the fairy had her hands on her hips and tapped her foot in mid air. 

            “Up, you lazy bones.”

            “My Lady.”  Boston heard and looked at the elf beside her and got right up.

            “What is it?  Why is it still dark out?”

            “You must dress.  You are needed.”

            Boston looked around.  “But my clothes?  I laid them out here for the morning.”

            “Lady Alice said fairy weave only.”  The elf maid lifted a skimpy bit of cloth from the bed.

            With the word fairy, Boston dared another look at the one in the room.  “I am sorry Miss fairy,” she said.  “I was having such a wonderful dream.”

            The fairy softened her look.  “Quite alright.  Good dreams are worth holding on to.  And it is Mistletoe.”

            “I’m Mary Riley, but everyone calls me Boston.”  She looked at the elf who was still holding the little bit of cloth.

            “Lady, you must put this on.”

            “But that isn’t even enough for a bikini.”  Boston protested.

            “It is fairy weave.”  The fairy fluttered in close.  “Her name is Rosemary, and this little cloth is magical.  It can be grown or shaped with a thought.  It can be separated into several pieces and even hardened to make shoes or boots.  You can make everything from an arctic outfit to a bikini and even color it with lavender flowers if you like.  Here.”

            Mistletoe helped Boston dress in sensible jeans, running shoes and a shirt while Rosemary took up the explanation.  “You can make a nightgown for the night and freshen the clothes in the morning with a thought and without ever having to put them in the wash.”

            “Remarkable.”  Boston responded at last.  “But how do I know it won’t change every-which-way every time I have a stray thought?”

            “Because you are human.  It won’t change with your thoughts like normal.  You will have to tell it to change.”

            “Good to know,”  Boston said, and while they fixed her shoes she had another thought.  “How is it you know about running shoes and such?”

            “I’ve been to Earth.”  Mistletoe said flatly, like Boston should have guessed. 

            “And Miss Mistletoe is friends with the Kairos’ daughter.”

            “I was once.  I am sure she does not remember.“

            “Of course, in your big size.”  Boston had a revelation.  “You can pass for a human.  I remember Missus Pumpkin getting big.  So you have been to Earth and pretended to be human.”

            “Not too well,” Rosemary whispered and nodded at the fairy as if Mistletoe could not hear.  “She is too pretty to be human.”  The fairy shrugged and Boston turned to the elf, but Rosemary anticipated the question.  “Oh no, Lady.  You are the first mortal human I have ever seen.”

            “And I think you are rather pretty yourself,” Boston complimented the elf and saw her turn her eyes away, just a little.

            “Enough now.  Come.  We must be going.  They are waiting on you.”  Mistletoe led the way.  Rosemary stayed behind to straighten the bed.

            “Why so early?”  Boston asked, but Mistletoe did not know.

            Boston found the others in the banquet hall where she made herself a plate of hot eggs and biscuits from the breakfast bar someone had set up.  She imagined it was the fat little dwarf lady from the night before that seemed determined to make her gain twenty pounds in one night.  She enjoyed the breakfast, and was only startled briefly when Lockhart set a backpack beside her.

            “What is this?” she asked.

            “Medical kit.  Hope we don’t need it.”  Lockhart gave a short answer as he checked his shotgun.  Boston saw he was also armed with a police pistol.  Lincoln had a pistol and a wicked looking knife attached to his belt.  Roland was at a nearby table sharpening his sword with a whetstone.  Boston looked quickly in her pack and found a Berretta like she used on the range and also her own wicked looking knife.  Beside the medical kit there was something else.  She pulled it out.

            It was a handheld computer which she immediately recognized as a data base, and maybe a few other things.  “What is this?”  She asked out loud.  No one answered at first, and then Boston had a real shock.  She saw Captain Decker and Lieutenant Harper.  They looked more than well armed with weapons that looked pretty sophisticated for regular issue.  Decker also had some equipment which from her distance looked like scanning equipment.  Harper had a similar handheld, and she walked toward Boston.

            Boston held up the handheld so Harper saw the back of the unit.  “That is a Reichgo battery,” Harper said.  “We haven’t learned how to duplicate it yet, but it will put out a continual electrical charge for six months to a year depending on usage.”

            Boston paused and thought about what she was going to say.  “I don’t get it,” she said at last to whomever might be listening.  “I thought we were just going to retrieve them and come right back.”

            “Here.”  Lieutenant Harper put something like a watch on the table.  “This is an old style walkie-talkie with a ten to twenty mile range that should work without satellites.”  She walked back to her equipment.

            Boston picked up the watch, examined it closely, and put it on in time to see Alice come in followed by Doctor Procter.  The Doctor carried an amulet which he shook and listened to and shook again. The amulet was made of wood and strung with leather so it looked like nothing special, but Boston knew appearances could be deceiving.  She wondered what it was for.

            “Are we ready?”  Alice clapped her hands when she spoke to be sure she had everyone’s attention.  Boston raised her hand like a school girl and Alice answered her unspoken question.  “Mingus has taken his daughter to the beginning of history and insanely leapt into the chaotic void beyond where even I cannot reach him.  I do not know if they can be saved, but we need to be prepared for any eventuality.  The guns will never run out of bullets.  The fairy weave you are all wearing can be shaped and colored as needed to blend in with the locals.  Oh, and—“  Alice reached out like she was picking an apple from a tree and a golden orb appeared in her hand which she quickly put into the pouch that hung at her side.  Then she vanished and Glen came back to stand in her place.  He looked once around the room.

            “You have no idea how much I miss this place when I am not here,” he said.

            “I can imagine,” Boston spoke softly as she put on her backpack and noticed Katie Harper looking at her with wonder in her eyes.

            “Perhaps you can.”  Glen smiled for Boston before he clapped his hands like Alice and they all found themselves floating in a multi-colored stickiness and unable to breathe.

            “Gentlemen, and Boston,” Alice spoke in hushed tones.  She did not have to speak very loud to be heard through the utter silence of that tremendous room.  “This is the Heart of Time.”  She pointed at the crystal that throbbed with light like it was a beating heart, but she did not touch it.  “This has recorded all of human history since before the days the human race became scattered across the face of the earth.  In here, you will find Shakespeare’s London, Caesar’s Rome, Alexander’s Babylon and all the way back to the Tower of Shinar.

            Boston stepped up for a closer look, but Alice was not yet finished explaining.  “There are time zones represented here.  They are centered around my person, but allow access between one of my lifetimes and the next.  They have always been off limits until a few years ago when Avalon was overrun by a demon, a goddess.  She discovered the time zones.  She was stopped and can’t have done more than a few experiments, but still…”

            “My wife?”  Lincoln could not contain himself but closed his mouth immediately after speaking.  He looked around to be sure he did not disturb anything or anyone, though they were alone in that room.

            Alice nodded grimly.  “Alexis was taken by her father Mingus.  We could follow their progress through the Heart.  She was carried back to the end of the eighteenth century, to the days of her birth with the hope that the memory of her happy childhood might convince her to give up her life as a human and become an elf again.  He fears to see her age.  He fears he will lose her too soon and he cannot bear that thought.” 

            “Uh?”  Lincoln did not want to interrupt again.

            “Do not worry.  She has steadfastly refused and has tried to escape on several occasions.  But once it became known that the Storyteller – that Glen was awake from his memory loss and long slumber, Mingus panicked.  He has taken Alexis into the deep past.  But there is only so far he can go.”

            “Why don’t you just zap them back here?”  Lockhart was respectful, but not afraid to speak.

            “I could fetch Mingus easily enough through the Heart, but Alexis is human.  I have no such power over her and I would not dare leave her alone in history.”  Alice paused to collect her thoughts before she spoke again.  “As I said, each time zone centers around a life I once lived.  But I stand at the center of each time zone and the center moves with me.  If they came to the center I could do something, but as long as Mingus skirts around the edges and moves from zone to zone, I can do nothing.”

            “What do you mean the Heart of Time has recorded history?”  Boston asked.  She was thinking hard.  “Do you mean it is like a computer program, but one you can walk into so it seems real?”

            Alice smiled.  “This merely records the truth.  Where you walk will be utterly real.  The thing is, the reason the time zones are strictly off limits to my little ones – to everyone is because no one has been able to determine for certain how to prevent a change in the events in the zones of time and how that may affect actual history on Earth.” 

            “So you can’t reach them as long as they stay out of the center of the time zones.”  Lockhart went back to the original proposition.

            “I cannot.”  Alice shook her head.  “But you can reach them.  I can both send you from here and retrieve you as well as long as you stay together.  And don’t worry, Lincoln.  There is only so far Doctor Mingus can go.”

            “That sounds risky,” Boston said.  “What if we change things by accident?  What if we change real history?”

            “It is a risk, but it is not that simple.  Most changes and minor changes do not seem to matter.  Yet even with interlopers there seems to be some correlation with actual events.  That is why the time zones have remained off limits for all these millennia.  But to ask about the correlation between the events in the zones and actual history as it occurred is really a chicken or egg question.”

            “Like do the interlopers have a bearing on history that we don’t quite see or are even their actions somehow directed by the program?”  Boston was thoughtful and Alice merely nodded.

            “Your pardon.”  Lockhart spoke up again.  “But why are you afraid to leave her alone in history?”  His instincts were acting up again.

            Alice looked at the man but she could say nothing less than the truth.  “Because most of my lives are surrounded by danger.  And if you die in the past, you will remain dead forever.  And then there is this.”  Alice swallowed.  “Several years ago, though Ashtoreth was defeated as I said, she sent ghouls and bogeys, terrible giants and dragons and things too terrible to name into the zones.  There are still some unsavories there that have evaded my reach.  Presently, the time zones are not a safe place to be.”

            “But you can send us to Alexis and bring us right back, right?”  Lincoln needed confirmation.

            “I will.”  Alice affirmed.  “And I have gotten this help for you since there is no telling how Mingus will respond when he is caught.”  Alice snapped her fingers and two more people appeared in that tremendous room.  She pointed to the first who looked human enough.  “Doctor Procter is half human and has been Doctor Mingus’ partner in the history department for three hundred years.  If anyone can speak sense to the elder elf I have every hope that Doctor Procter can.”  Doctor Procter looked older than either of the men present, and he had the great white beard to prove it, but he tipped his hat and his smile looked genuine enough. 

            “Gentlemen, and young Boston, it will be a pleasure and honor traveling with you.  I must say—“

            “A-hem,” Alice interrupted and pointed at the other person.  He was as tall as Lockhart, but a bit skinny and utterly elf in the way Boston always imagined an elf should be.  He did not look at all like Mirowen – a virtual human with pointed ears.  This one still belonged on the reservation, but he was cute, Boston thought, and young.

            “This is Roland, Mingus’ son.  He has volunteered to represent the family in this matter.  He is a bit young, but I trust you will keep him in line.”

            “Lady, I am fully grown.  I turned one hundred and twenty-six last Yuletide.”

            Alice made no comment on the elf’s age but simply added, “He has no trouble with his sister’s choice to live a human life and disagrees strongly with what his father has done.”

            “The important thing is she be happy, don’t you think?”  The young elf looked at Lincoln.

            “Oh, I think it,” Lincoln said.  “I just did not know anyone in her family thought it.”

            “And I think it, too,” Alice said with a smile.  “And I think there is time for a good feast and a good night’s rest before your journey.  Come.”  And she lead them away from the Heart of Time and to a proper medieval banquet complete with acrobats, minstrels, storytellers and all sorts of magical entertainments, with real magic.  Everyone was happy until the middle of the night.

            I grew up thinking I was the dullest person alive living in the dullest circumstances imaginable.  It was suburbia.  It was school.  It was summer vacations where we all sat around and stared at each other, bored out of our minds.  Oh, we went away sometimes and did some things, but it was not much of a break from the dull, dull, dull.

            Some people (I dreamed) lived exciting lives in faraway places.  They had adventures.  They had fun.  I had never-ending math.  To be sure, it is perfectly understandable that I should have been drawn to science fiction and fantasy tales, like Lord of the Rings and Invaders from Mars.  But then I was always told a writer needs to write what they know.  And I thought, who would ever want to read about the things I know?  Twenty pages of my life would put someone into a coma.

            Have you thought this way?

            It was not until I aged that I began to make the connections and see that everything worth writing about was under my nose the whole time.  God alone knows why I could not see that in my youth.

            Now, if I want characters, I have known characters by the bucketful.  I grew up with so many of them.  All they wanted was what I wanted, to be put into an interesting situation.  Give Doctor Kline a shot of adrenaline, or maybe a couple of energy drinks, or maybe a few shots of whiskey and stick him at the foot of the stairs.  A monster is coming down the stairs?  It may be a literal monster, or it might be his spouse or boss or unruly child.  It could be anyone or anything.  How will he respond?

            If I want dialogue (conversation), well, I grew up talking.  We all did.  If I listened at all to myself and the person I was talking with, how could I not be able to write dialogue?  We all talk.  True, some only talk when there is something worth saying.  But others talk all the time whether there is anything worth saying or not.  I mean, come on!

            If I lack a setting, I just think of all the places I have been.  I can describe town halls, businesses, churches, schools, suburban settings, cityscapes, the wilderness, and on and on, and in rich detail because I have been there.  Where have you been?  And so what if your local forest suddenly shows up in that town you once visited on the other side of the country.

            They say, “Write what you know,” but now that I think about it, I know tons.  It is all grist for the mill.  I don’t have to keep everything in my dull situation.  I can add spice, and still be realistic about it, too.  With a little age, I have experienced tragedies of all kinds in my life.  I know what it feels like.  I know how it works.  I have seen joys and sorrows all around me in the lives of others.  I know how many people, perhaps hundreds of different people and different kinds of people react and respond to such things, and how they talk about it, and what they say.

            Oh, I can play with the circumstances and plot out a real adventure if I want.  Maybe Doctor Kline turns pirate, but then all I need is the right setting, characters to interact and converse with one another, and respond appropriately to the good or ill events that occur.  All that is already in my head, because it has been in my life, no matter how dull on the surface I believed it to be.

            I could not see it when I was young.  Now that I have aged like a good wine (though some might say vinegar) I see that everything I need to be a great storyteller is at my fingertips.  I believe it is also at yours.  As I say, it is all grist for the mill.

            Lockhart spoke as the door closed.  “I feel like I died.  I thought when I died I would get to be young again.”  Lincoln struggled to not throw up.  Boston looked around and grinned with all her might.

            “If we died, we went to Heaven.”  Boston pointed at the castle, rubbed her shoe in the green grass and reveled in the fresh air and glorious colors everywhere she looked.  Somehow the colors all seemed richer and brighter to her than they ever did back on drab old earth.  There was a field of ripe brown grain on her right and a small sparkling blue river on her left which flowed into the deep green sea not twenty yards to her rear.  It was all too wonderful, but the castle was the most wonderful of all.  It looked like a veritable tapestry of colors with more spires, towers and keeps than she could count, and some of the towers shot right up into the clouds.  “I feel like I’m in Oz, you know, from black and white to color.” 

            “If it’s any consolation, feel like I died too,” Glen said.  “But the feeling will pass, shortly.  And no, Boston, this isn’t Oz and it isn’t God’s heaven.  This is in the second heavens.” 

            “I don’t understand,” Lockhart admitted.

            “Very simple.”  Glen motioned for Mister Bean to proceed.  The Little One strutted up the path and the others fell in behind.  “The second heavens is my name for the place between Heaven and Earth.  It is where Aesgard, Olympus, the Golden City of the gods and all the other places of the gods used to be, including the places where the spirits of the dead were kept until the coming of the Christ, like Hades, you know.” 

            “This is the place between earth and heaven?”  Lincoln was beginning to feel better.  “It must be small.  Thin like a line?”

            Glen shook his head.  “Infinite, and eternal as far as I know.  The isles of Avalon are called innumerable, but they actually add up to very little compared to the vastness of it all.  Alice keeps the atmosphere and everything functioning well enough so we have a sanctuary for my Little Ones and others across the various islands of the archipelago.”

            “What do you mean keeps the atmosphere?”  Lincoln took a deep breath of that marvelously pure air and wondered.

            “I mean the natural state of the second heavens is chaos.  It folds in and back on itself and even time is uncertain and in flux.  In order to have anything here that approximates earth and the natural laws of physics, it has to be carved out of the chaos and sustained.  Otherwise we would all be floating through an airless, ever changing and swirling mass of stuff the color of rainbow sherbet and with the consistency of something like cotton candy.”

            “Hurry up.  Come on.”  Boston interrupted.  She was excited.  “The Castle gate is opening.”

            The others saw the gate opening but were presently huffing and puffing to get up the hill.  They paused to stare at the girl and Glen spoke.  “I’m fifty-seven, Lincoln is sixty-four, Lockhart is ready to retire.  We will get there.”

            Boston frowned and ran ahead.

            “I think it would be best if I let Lady Alice take it from here.”  Glen finished his thought and vanished from that spot.  Lady Alice met Boston as she ran inside the door to the castle courtyard.

            “Thank you Mister Kalderoshineamotadecobean.  You did your job perfectly and brought them here safe and sound.”  Alice’s first thought was for her Little One.  The little Bean grinned more broadly than a human face could possibly grin and marched off across the castle courtyard with a real swagger.  “Hello Boston dear.  It is good to see you again.”  Alice stepped up and gave Boston a kiss on the cheek and Boston had a thought.  She spun around and saw Lockhart and Lincoln but no Glen.

            “Glen?”  For all of her reading, study and experience with the subject, she was still uncertain exactly how all of these different lives of the Kairos actually worked.

            “Yes, Glen is here.”  Alice touched her heart and responded with a very human smile.  “But not at the moment.  For now he thought I would be best to explain.”

            “Trouble?”  Lockhart picked up on something in Alice’s voice.  Once upon a time, he was a policeman and he still showed the instincts now and then.

            “Eh?”  Lincoln was originally with the CIA and had other virtues, though at the moment his thoughts were for his missing wife.

            “If you will follow.”  Alice waved them forward and they crossed the courtyard and tried hard not to stare.

            The yard was filled with bustling Little Ones, all about on some errand or other.  There were dwarfs, elves of light and dark all across the cobblestones and fairies and pixies of many different types and sizes fluttering through the air.  Two hobgoblins struggled with a barrel of something and tried to load it onto a wagon.  There was a big creature off in one corner, like an ogre or Troll.  The men did not want to look too close.  Boston, of course, was delighted with it all and even clapped several times at the sights that came to her eyes.

            At the back of the courtyard, they stepped through a gate and into a garden-like area.  It was big, well groomed, but more nearly the size of a small forest than a garden.  The trees were placed randomly like an old growth forest, but the paths were clean of debris.

            “One could get lost in this castle and wander for days without finding a door.”  Lincoln remarked.

            “It has been known to happen.”  Alice heard and threw the response over her shoulder.

            They traveled through several buildings, several courtyards, and several gardens – all different – and came at last to the spring from which the small river flowed.  Boston guessed when she saw the naiad sunning herself.  She would have been more taken by the sight, however, if the naiad had not been lounging in a plastic lawn chair.

            “Is nothing sacred?”  Boston asked with a click of her tongue.

            “Very little these days,” Alice sighed and opened a door to a building which might have been called a small cathedral.  There was only one room, all wood and stone, and it looked like a construction as old as time itself.  The wood was full of carvings, the walls and floor full of mosaics and the ceiling full of paintings all picturing the one hundred and twenty-one lifetimes of the Kairos, so far.  In the center of the room there was only one piece of furniture.  It was a three pronged table and it held in its grasp a crystal which throbbed with a discernibly bright light.  It was otherwise impossible to tell where the rest of the light in the room came from since there were no windows and no other doors but the one.  It seemed as if the building had been built around the light so as to trap the light inside for all eternity. Boston held her breath in that sacred space.

            The woman marine arrived in the lunchroom first.  She saluted Colonel Weber and the Captain who stood up to greet her.  The Colonel went straight to the introductions.  “Lieutenant Harper.  Captain Decker.” 

            The Captain stuck out his hand.  “Welcome to the monkey house.”

            “Katie.”  She shook the hand and responded with her name.

            “Sit,” the Colonel said, and it sounded like an order so both complied while one of the three men across the table spoke.

            “Decker and Harper.  Sounds like a couple of cops from a cheap television show.” 

            Colonel Weber pointed at the speaker and continued with the introductions.  “Robert Lockhart is the Assistant Director of the so-called Men in Black organization.  Ben Lincoln is the one with the missing wife.  Of course, you know Doctor Roberts.”

            “Sir.”  The Lieutenant acknowledged each man and kept it business-like.  “Mind if I ask a few questions?”  The Colonel waved as if to say be my guest, but good luck getting any straight answers.

            “I read the briefing but I don’t exactly understand it.  I have heard of people who claimed to be reincarnated, but this sounds a bit more extensive than that.”

            “And I hardly expected it to be in a briefing paper.”  Captain Decker agreed.

            “Not reincarnated,” Lockhart rubbed his unshaven chin as he spoke.  “He sometimes refers to himself as an experiment in time and genetics going back to the beginning of history.  And if the paper was accurate, you will find it says he also remembers the future.”

            Lincoln touched Lockhart on the arm to quiet him and spoke to the marines.  “May I ask your security clearance?”

            The Colonel answered.  “Both Captain Decker and Lieutenant Harper are cleared all the way to the top.”

            Lincoln rubbed his chin like Lockhart.  “That might not be high enough.”

            “That’s right.”  Lockhart grinned.  “There are some things it would be best if even we did not know about.  Isn’t that right, Emile?”

            Doctor Roberts looked up.  He was trying to keep a low profile in front of the Colonel who kept threatening to arrest him, but he could not resist.  “Like Santa, spry little elf that he is,” he joked.

            “Yes,” Lieutenant Harper thought they were kidding and tried to get back on topic.  “What does it mean when it refers to elves and dwarves?  I assume that is code for something.”

            Doctor Roberts went back to hiding and Lincoln said nothing, but Lockhart grinned more broadly and shook his head slowly.  The Lieutenant reacted.

            “You must be joking.  I stopped playing Fairy Princess when I was five and found out there are no such things.”

            Before a more reasonable response could be made, they were interrupted by the entrance of the women who were laughing and having a wonderful time.  Colonel Weber and Captain Decker stood.  Lieutenant Harper also stood, though after what she just heard, she felt like it might be safer to stay seated.  The Colonel at least got to introduce the Director, Roberta Brooks.

            “Bobbi,” she said as she shook their hands and took her seat.

            Boston butted in front and took each hand in turn.  “Mary Riley, but everyone calls me Boston.”  She said it twice and went to sit next to Lockhart.

            Mirowen nodded shyly at the marines.  “Mirowen.”  She went to sit beside Doctor Roberts.

            “Mirowen?”  The Captain asked like he was searching for a last name.

            “Soon to be Roberts, I think.”  Lincoln sounded morose.  Mirowen’s presence underlined for him like nothing else that Alexis was missing.

            “For now just Mirowen.”  Lockhart was still grinning and raised his hand to point his thumb at the couple.  “She is an elf.”

            Mirowen blushed, but she brushed back her hair to reveal her pointed ears.  She turned quickly to Doctor Roberts and he gave her a peck on the lips to reassure her.

            At the sight of those ears, Lieutenant Harper sat, and when she sat, the Captain sat with her.  It was barely in time to deal with what happened next.

            “Hi, I’m the Princess, but people call me –“  The Princess paused and pretended to think about it before she concluded.  “Princess.”  She smiled her most dazzling smile.  “Right now I have to go home.  My husband owes me a foot massage or something.”  She reached to take both the Captain’s and the Lieutenant’s hands.

            “And where is home?”  The Captain asked while he unsuccessfully tried to keep his eyes from wandering up and down her curves.

            “204 BC,” the Princess answered with a straight face.  “Now don’t let go,” she added and vanished from that time and place so Glen could return to his own time and face his own dilemma.  The Captain let go, but it was only for a second.

            “Now,” Glen smiled at the military people.  “Lovely to have you here.  Lovely to meet you both.  You can’t come.”

            “Now, wait a minute,” Colonel Weber wanted to protest but Glen cut him off.

            “Despite your soldiers, you have no authority and no real power here.”  Glen walked around the table to the far wall which was the only big, blank wall in the room.  “Begone,” he mumbled.  “Before somebody drops a house on you.”

            Once at the wall, Glen turned and looked around the room.  He had instructions.  “Bobbi, I guess you will have to play hostess to Mister Smith when he gets back here on the Kargill ship, at least until I get back.  Emile and Mirowen, make a decision already.”  He took a deep breath and then paused to consider what he was about to do before he spoke.   “Letting ordinary mortals other than me and my immediate family into Avalon is not a common occurrence.  But Lincoln, you can come and fetch your wife.  Lockhart, you need to come to be the boss and keep a tight rein on Lincoln.  Boston, you need to come to keep Lockhart from freaking out, and you need to behave yourself.”  Lincoln, Lockhart and an excited Boston got up to stand beside Glen.  “That’s it.  Colonel Weber, Mirowen and Roberts better be here and untouched when I get back.”  And with that said, he turned again to the wall and spoke softly

            Emile Roberts took Mirowen’s hand and she looked at him, smiled broadly and repeated a rhyme.  “How many miles to Avalon?  Three score miles and ten.  Can I get there by candlelight?  Yes and back again.”  There was a momentary darkening in a part of the wall seven feet tall and seven feet wide before it suddenly became as bright as a window facing into a sunny day.  An archaic archway formed around the space and it became an opening to another place, altogether.  There was grass there, and a castle in the background, high on a hill.  The aroma of life filled the stuffy lunchroom.

            In the foreground, there was a little creature who bowed most regally in Glen’s direction.  Several eyes shot toward Mirowen.  Mirowen kept up a glamour that made her look nearly human with only the pointed ears to give her away.  This creature in the archway was clearly not human. And Glen did not help when he named the thing.

            “Kalderoshineamotadecobean.  Lovely to see you.”

            “My Lord is always gracious.”

            “Speaks sort of human,” Decker whispered to Harper who did not hear him because for some reason she was crying.  “Bit of a shock though.  I can’t imagine an ogre.”

            Glen invited his fellow travelers to cross the threshold and watched them closely as they crossed over.  Then he turned once more to the room and spoke.  “Oh, and Mirowen, don’t worry.  I should be back long before the baby is born.”

            Mirowen turned as red as Boston’s red hair before Glen stepped through the wall and the entrance to Avalon snapped shut with a bright flash of light.

Present day Washington DC.  Kairos: Glen, the Storyteller.

Recording…

 

            Lockhart stepped out of the plane on his own two feet, took a deep breath and let it out slowly through his smile.  He couldn’t help it.  He spent the last fifteen years in a wheelchair and was dreading retirement.  Now he was healed and free.

            Glen scooted past and paused only long enough to comment.  “Don’t start depending on those Gaian healing chits.  That is a good way to get killed.”  Lockhart nodded, but then they saw Lincoln coming to the door as Glen hurried off.

            Boston followed Lincoln and lugged the folded-up wheelchair.  “I guess this goes back in storage.”  She groaned as she lifted it over the lip to the ramp.  Then the young woman and the old man walked side by side toward the building until they saw people running toward them.  Boston thought to say one more thing before they got swallowed by the crowd.

            “I will miss pushing you around in this thing.”

            “Me too.”  Lockhart responded in all seriousness before he had to stop walking and hug Bobbi.  She was crying, and he had to get touched, praised and congratulated for getting his legs back by any number of others as well.

            Glen got as far as the door to the main building of the Men in Black before Lincoln grabbed his arm and spouted again.   “But My wife has to be out there somewhere.”

            Once again Glen tried to reassure the man.  “Don’t worry.  Up until now there were a few other things pressing, like finding you for instance.  But Alexis is now my top priority.  Oh no.”  He said that last because he saw Mirowen and Doctor Emile Roberts racing toward him.  “Lincoln is one.  This is two.  Trouble does come in threes,” he mumbled.  “I can’t wait.”

            “Hey you!”  The shout came from further down the hall as Mirowen and Doctor Roberts hustled up to the front door to hide behind Glen.  A marine followed.  Glen held up his hand like a traffic cop.

            “Go tell Colonel Weber to meet me in the lunchroom in thirty minutes.”  The marine looked ready to object so Glen repeated himself.  “Go.” 

            That just made the marine mad.  It looked like he was going to say “Who the Hell are you?” but when Glen vanished from that world and was replaced by an absolutely stunning young woman in an outfit that was both tight and short, it came out, “What the f***?”

            “Princess,” Mirowen lowered her eyes.

            “Crude.”  The Princess responded to the marine before she gave both Lincoln and Doctor Roberts a sharp look.  She grabbed Mirowen by the elbow.  “We will be in the ladies room so too bad for you Lincoln.”  It was the one place Lincoln could not follow and she could get some peace even if Glen could not.

            Once inside the women’s room, the Princess turned immediately to the mirror.  It was reflex, an automatic reaction to see how she looked.  The main part of her mind was focused on the elf.  “So Mirowen, what have you and Emile decided?”

            Mirowen curtsied, and gracefully despite the fact that she was in greasy overalls.  “Lady.  Emile is reluctant to become elf kind, and we have researched it and it has not seemed to us that you have done that very often.”

            “Not often,” the Princess responded.  “But one of my godly lifetimes like Danna or Junior or Nameless or Amphitrite might arrange it.” 

            Mirowen curtsied a second time and looked at the floor.  She spoke softly.  “I understand.”

            “But Mirowen, what about joining Alexis in the human world?”  The Princess turned from the mirror to look at the elf.  She was a lovely elf and the Princess had no doubt she would make an equally lovely human woman.

            “I am prepared for that.”  Mirowen dropped her eyes again but she did not sound convinced.  “Oh, but Colonel Weber is threatening to drag Emile back for trial for stealing property from area 51.  But it was my unicorn.  I was just getting her back!”

            Boston came to join them at that point and also went straight for the mirror while the Princess turned again to face Mirowen.  “You know if you stay as you are, he will grow old more rapidly than you can imagine while you will hardly change at all.  You will lose him and he will lose you in the end.”

            “One of us will likely go first in any case.”  Mirowen would not look the Princess in the eyes.

            “I could do that,” Boston interrupted.  “With Lockhart, I mean.  He is such a snuggle bear, and a good kisser too, I bet.  If only he wasn’t such a father figure.”

            “Grandfather figure.”  The Princess corrected her, and Boston did not deny that truth.

            “Oh, but did you hear Lincoln’s concern for his missing wife?”  Boston said.  “I never met her, but I understand she was an elf once.  He must really love her.”  The Princess nodded for Boston but she spoke with an eye on Mirowen.

            “And she really loves him and would do anything for him.”

            “Two peas in a pod.”  Bobbi the Director came in, a marine on her heels.  The Director caught the tail end of the conversation.  “And that is why we need to find Alexis if we can.  Is it crowded in here or what?”

            “Women’s conference,” Boston suggested.  The marine grimaced as she set down her briefcase and took a turn in the mirror.

            “Yes, well Mirowen, we will talk more later.”  The Princess took back the conversation.  “Meanwhile, I had a hard time at first getting a lead on Alexis.  She became too human, I think.”

            “She still has the magic,” Bobbi noted.

            “Yes, but so do a number of humans, and the more so as the Other Earth waxes toward full conjunction.”

            “What about the Lady of Avalon?”  Boston suggested.

            “Alice?”  The Princess closed her eyes.  “Yes, that is how I found her.  Alexis was there in Avalon, and I suppose I knew that all along.  She was just not the priority because she did not appear to be in any danger.  Her father Mingus took her out of fear that she was getting too old and would soon die and leave him grieving.”  The Princess sighed.  “I guess we have to go fetch her.”

            Bobbi touched the Princess on the arm and the Princess started to move over, but Bobbi had a request first and only glanced briefly at the marine before she spoke.  “Can I go to Avalon?  All these years I have worked this operation and in these last few years I have kept it all running, and I have never been to Avalon.  Not even once.”

            The Princess smiled and hugged her friend.  “Soon.  Not this time, but after you retire, and no, you cannot retire today.  I need you to keep Colonel dipstick away from Mirowen and Emile while I am gone.”  The Princess turned toward the marine.  “So, do you work for Darth Weber?”  The marine picked up her briefcase and smiled, but just a little.

            “I don’t do typing pool gossip,” she said and left.

            “Humph.”  Bobbi harrumphed, but not in a sour way.  She stepped up to the mirror and touched her gray hair, looked at Boston who was maybe twenty-five, the beautiful elf and the incredible Princess and harrumphed again.  “What am I looking at?  I am way past the age for mirrors.”

            All of the young women paused to give Bobbi love hugs before they exited the Women’s Room together.  They had a conference to attend and they had to get Lincoln’s wife back.

            The character of the Kairos is one person who has moved through history, birth after birth, and has struggled mightily against the forces that would rewrite history and destroy the human race in the process.  There are many stories here, some of which are already written and I hope will be available in the next several years.

            The heart of time is a glowing crystal, an instrument created at the beginning of history by the Kairos and the ancient God Chronos.  Its purpose is to track the progress of the human race through time, but it has a property that allows access to the many past lives of the Kairos.  These time gates permit a person to travel through time from one lifetime of the Kairos to the next.  Because of this, the Heart of Time is off limits to everyone.  The risk of changing history is too great.

            But when Lincoln’s wife – an elf turned human – is kidnapped by her father and dragged into the past, others are forced to follow and save her.  The current Kairos takes them through the crystal Heart to the beginning of time where the elder elf has dragged his daughter into the primordial chaos before history began.  The only way to retrieve them is for the Kairos to follow into the chaos and, in effect, exchange his life for theirs.

            Lincoln’s father-in-law and wife are returned to the beginning of history, but now with the Kairos gone there is no quick and easy way home.  They have to travel through time the slow way, through the time gates, from one lifetime of the Kairos to the next, and only hope to be able to get home in one piece.  That won’t be easy.  For one, the lives of the Kairos tend to be filled with struggle and danger.  For two, they learn they are not the only ones using the time gates.  Others have discovered the way through time, and they are not the kind of people or creatures you would want to meet on a dark night.

            Avalon, season one is complete.  Avalon season two will begin sometime this summer.  First, there needs to be some telling of what exactly happened to the Kairos when he sacrificed himself.  The primordial chaos is more complex than it appears.  The Kairos who is still linked to all of those other lifetimes in history might yet be able to navigate the wilderness and find the way home.

###

            I hope to play a bit with this confidential idea, and then plan to rerun the pilot episode up to the disappearance of the Kairos as a lead into the story I am calling, “Forever.”