One weekend my parents dragged me out of the house and away from school to take me skiing in British Columbia. Magical white powder flowed down the slopes of Whistler as I tried to learn to snowboard. It didn't take long before I was in love with being in the snow on a board.
Waiting with Canadian Mounties in the airport of Vancouver, B.C. could be listed as one of the strangest things I'd ever had happen to me. With recent events what they were, this really didn't seem all that strange. Still, a guy in an official looking red coat and tan hat was sitting next to me. My curiosity was up as to how other people were taking it when they walked by. Fear stared back at me when a seven year old passed and must have thought I was some sort of serial killer.
International flights coming from Sea-Tac in Seattle, Washington were pretty common so there wasn't as much red tape as there could have been to get me out of Canada. There were a lot of questions coming from officials. Things you would expect to be asked.
"How did you get into the country?"
"Where was your passport?"
"How long have you been here?"
"Where did you cross the border?"
"Where do you live?"
"How old are you?"
"Do you take drugs?"
"Is there anyone else you know of that crossed the border illegally?"
They were all valid questions. I never lied so much in my entire life. My excuse was I was out in Seattle drinking with a bunch of friends and drank so much I blacked out. When I woke up I was in the forest face down in the snow. I headed west to follow the moonlight even though I wasn't sure where I was. Then I ran into the house and the rest they all knew about.
Detail only came out when they asked; otherwise I tried not to get caught up in details. Forgetting some tiny lie I told them would be the first way of getting caught in it. After a couple of hours of answering questions they let me go. They had my passport in hand from Bob who jumped on the Gulfstream and came to Vancouver straight from LAX.
Bob probably would have been upset if the entire situation wasn't as funny as it was from the outside. Even I was laughing at it thinking about it from the outside looking in. How many people just wake up 1500 miles away?
There were stories from friends about their uncle's dropping sheets of acid because they were getting pulled over or shrooms and being on a blackout trip where they woke up four states from where they started. Sometimes the story would end with the person ending up in Mexico. Canada was never in the stories nor was the Red Coat and Hat.
An airport official walked up to me with Bob right behind him. "Michael?"
Standing up and shaking his hand, "Yeah." My eyes were on fire from being up so long and so many other things it was hard to figure what was having the most effect.
"Sir, you are free to go. I understand Mr. Stansell has your jet fueled and ready," he looked at Bob. Bob just nodded, but I could see him holding back the laughter.
"Great," getting out was most important. Then there would be Bob's jokes to keep me company.
"If you both will just follow me," he walked to a side door that led out to the tarmac.
Bob and I followed him all the way to my jet. We both walked up into the jet and sat down. Looking up at the cockpit, no one was seated in the Captain's chair. Figuring the pilot was in the bathroom, I just put my head in my hands.
Bob walked to the cockpit and sat in the Captain's seat.
"What the hell are you doing?" enough funny stuff for one evening.
"I'm a pilot. Been one for years," he smiled back at me. "I called your regular pilot and he called in to clear me as the co-pilot for an emergency trip."
"Holy shit! I didn't know that," I was really shocked. Bob was getting better by the moment.
"That's a first," laughing. "Come sit up here," he pointed at the other cockpit seat.
Walking into the cockpit I sat in the co-pilot's seat. This was all new for me. He put his headset on and so did I. Hearing everything that was going on would make this a good learning experience and I was always the sponge to soak something like that up.
Bob went through a bunch of checks. Really not understanding anything that was going, then the tower said the last thing I heard from Canada that day.
"You are cleared for takeoff."
The headset came off, "Thank fucking God! Get me back to LA. I need some sleep," putting my head back on the seat.
"Now, do you mind explaining to me how you made it to Canada from LA in such a short period of time? I mean, since I had to get up and fly all the way here to get you." Nice little addition to make me feel guilty enough to spill it.
Where to begin. The bathroom? My Mother in my head? The snow trek?
"Well, I was feeling a bit funky so I went to the bathroom leaving Alley in the living room," leaving out Alley's changing face.
"By the way, she was frantic. She woke me up. I put her to sleep in one of the bedrooms. I don't know if that was yours or not." Probably not, but I would show him later.
"Thanks. So, I was in the bathroom and then I was in the middle of a forest talking to my dead mother. I'm still not sure if that was my imagination or not. Then she was gone and I was in the snow in the middle of trees. I decided to walk west. I ran into a house as I almost froze to death. A nice old couple put me in a tub of hot water. A cop in a red uniform jacket and tan hat showed up and that's when I knew I was in Canada." That didn't take any time at all to tell him. We had just taken off the runway.
"So, was it like in the restaurant?" he was observant and going down the right path.
"Kind of. I mean parts of it were. My eyes were twitching and my hand. That's why I went to the bathroom. Then there was the haze in my vision. That was all the same," thinking outloud.
"Hmm. Interesting," he was taking some mental notes.
He was right about that. My mind was saying run myself to John's Hopkins and tell them to put me through every test known to man. Maybe they would take an ex-ray and find out I was part alien or something to that effect.
"That story was pretty lame," he seemed disappointed. "I mean, I expected something spectacular," he was visibly disappointed.
"So, going into a bathroom in Los Angeles and then coming out in a snow covered field in Canada isn't spectacular?" We laughed. "You're a hard audience."
He was right. It was pretty weird to think about it not being some kind of amazing story, but I didn't know any details. It would be like going to sleep one place and waking up someplace else. The story really doesn't have much to feed off of for excitement. There were no details to fill in the gaps.
"I'm going to lie down on the couch. Wake me when we get there." He just nodded.
Right behind the captain's seat in the passenger cabin was a couch I hit quickly and just passed out before I was even settled in. Dreams I don't remember, just blackness until right before we landed. My eyes popped open as the seconds before the wheels hit the runway. There was screeching when they touched down.
Sitting up, I looked in the front and Bob was slowing the planed down with all kinds of levers and knobs. He was talking into the headset to the tower. We pulled around the end of the runway and headed for an area on the South side of the airport where all the small jets were kept.
"You better come and see this, Michael," hearing a lot of panic in his voice I sprang to my feet and ran to the cockpit. The hanger where the jet was kept had a lot of police cars and some military Hummers around it.
"What the hell is going on?" confusion and a lot of fear were coming over me straight from my stomach.
The jet pulled into the hanger and Bob stopped it with a jolt to the brakes. We both braved heading for the door. Someone on the outside helped me pull the door down. There were about one hundred people with guns aimed directly at us.
"Michael, you are under arrest," a guy in a black suit with a cast on his leg was yelling through a megaphone.
Bob climbed out from behind me, "For what? Flying to Canada?"
The man in the cast hobbled up to me, "Michael, I'm agent," I caught an 'M' in the name and missed everything else with the sound of a jet flap and air rushing.
"Who are you with?" he was holding a badge but too far away to be seen.
"I'm with the NSA. Please, step down," he was pointing at the ground.
Stepping down I was met with several people grabbing me by the arms and applying cuffs. I struggled some and they were starting to shake me. I struggled a little more.
"Michael," Bob was saying. "Michael," as they pulled me away toward a car. "Michael," my eyes opened and Bob was standing over me on the couch. I'd been dreaming or something. It was so real. Sweat soaked all of my clothes and was running off my face.
Sitting up and pushing him back, he was real and there. Shaking my head, he walked over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water and a small mini of vodka. He took the top off the water on the way back over to me. Next thing I knew he was dousing me with water. Then he cracked the bottle and handed it to me. I chugged it down.
"Thanks," it made me feel a lot better. Damn, he was like a doctor sometimes, "Where are we?"
"We're in the hanger." Dropping the bottle I turned and looked out the porthole window. No cops or military or guns. No guy in a cast. Nothing but cement and tool boxes with a couple other planes in the hanger.
"You alright?" he had every right to be concerned. My mental health was becoming a big question.
"Get me the fuck out of here and back to the Playhouse, please." He helped me up. He put the door down and we walked off the plane. The car was right there and I was never so happy to see a car. Jumping in the back I was laying down when Bob drove off headed for the Playhouse.
What the hell was all that about? Being arrested for something? I'm not evading taxes or anything like that. The NSA? Where in the world did my tiny little brain come up with that one?
First the mother fantasy and now this which it felt like my mental stability was heading south for the winter and we were in the new ice age. Maybe it was time to check myself in someplace to get healthy. Too much stress from pushing myself too much over the last few years.
The next thing I knew we were stopped in the garage at the Playhouse. Bob helped me out of the car and moved me up to the Playhouse door. He put his own hand on the panel and opened it.
"I guess my guy got you setup then?" it needed to be done.
"Nope. I fired your guy and brought in my own. He set it up right before I left." He smiled as he closed the door with his hand.
"You did what?" I wasn't really mad, just a little surprised.
"You weren't here and he is the only guy I trust with this shit," he opened the other door and closed it. "You can talk to him after you get some sleep. His name is Jax, short for Jackson. Southern thing."
"Where'd you put Alley?" He pointed up above the entry.
"Michael?" Alley's sweet little voice came down from right above us.
"Yeah." I walked over to the line in the wall and rode the lift to the catwalk. "Come on," she ran over to me and jumped in my arms.
"Are you alright?" her sweet and concerned voice was nice to hear.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm really tired." To the right of the lift I put my hand on the cement and the wall next to it opened.
I looked down at Bob, "My room," I gave him a wink as Alley and I went in.
"Of course," he said with a laugh.
"Lights, dim," I said. The lights came on dimmed already. She started kissing me with a lot of passion. I knew what she wanted, but I was so tired.
She dragged me over to the bed, "Come here," she bit her bottom lip.
"Baby, I want to, I promise. I just need a couple hours sleep, please," I gave her a pouty lip. "I'll hold you until I wake up and then I'll do whatever you want."
"Whatever I want? Promise?" she was so cute.
"Yes, baby. I promise," she pulled me down on the bed and wrapped us up into a spoon.
It took maybe six seconds before I drifted off into some other place where the sun was shining on a lot of water and a beach. People were running around everywhere laughing and playing in the sand and the ocean.
My eyes burned a bit from the brightness of the sun as they were focused on the waves roll up onto the shore. Breaking waves in the background with people trying to ride them on different types of boards. It felt like vacation was happening all around me.
Looking up and down the beach there was no one I knew. It seemed like everyone was having a wonderful time, but I felt alone and distracted. At that point half the sun started to cover with something shadowing it.
Everyone was obliviously playing and gradually making their way to the light side of the beach as if they were herding themselves in that direction. The dark side of the beach, to my right, was empty of people. Looking up, the sun was half on the left and the moon was half on the right side. Alice in Wonderland was the perfect way to describe it, but there was no Tweedle Dee or Tweedle Dumb.
On the dark half of the beach a figure appear in a white flowing gown, a woman with black hair and glowing yellow eyes. It was enough to make me feel uneasy about being alone in a place I didn't know. Her hand rose slowly and her finger motioned to me. Doing as they were asked my legs walked down the beach with protests from my brain.
Her yellow eyes were disturbing, "He's coming," she said in a whispering voice that echoed in my head. "He'll be here soon." She pointed out into the ocean.
Some type of figure was up out of the water, but the silhouette couldn't be made out. From that distance it just seemed like a whale. Then, in an instant, it was gone.
Laughter and giggling echoed out from the light side of the beach drawing my attention back. "He's coming," she said whispering directly into my ear.
Looking back two poles or sticks were coming out of the water heading toward me from a distance in the ocean. A mass was under the water and carrying water well above it. Water was lumping high into the air with the size of whatever was moving toward me. It was coming at incredible speed, as well.
Terror was starting to fill up my stomach. Turning as the woman began to laugh in slow motion, I started to run, falling down like a terrified girl in a horror film running away from the slasher killer. Scrambling on all fours to get up the dunes, I could feel a rumble under the ground. The sand was bouncing around from the vibrations. The fear was coursing all through my body, burning like fire in my veins. At the top of the sand mound, at the peak of my fear and panic, I turned to see something gigantic burst from the shoreline throwing sand and water everywhere. All the people on the light half of the beach didn't even notice. They were still playing and laughing in slow motion oblivious to the rest of the world.
Taking a step back I stumbled and rolled backward down the hill as there was a rumbling in the background. Landing face down in the sand, I looked up the hill and could see something coming over the hill covering the entire landscape of my vision. My heart was racing and beating so hard with panic burning in my veins.
Trying to get up, I couldn't. Sand was in my eye and I couldn't see anything around me at all. Starting to thrash around trying to get to my feet, but I couldn't move. More panic was making my heart beat into my throat. It was starting to makes its way to my head. Finally getting my hands up to my face and brushing away the sand I could see around me.
Sitting up in bed, breathing heavily with my heart pounding, Alley put her hand on my back. "Shhh. It's alright. It was just a nightmare," she kissed my shoulder.
Under my breath, "No, it wasn't." The feeling of this dream was the same as the one that ended up with me in Vancouver. The room was dark except a soft, light blue light.
"What is that?" she said looking at my chest.
Looking down, there was a soft glow coming from directly over my heart. It looked like someone had put a hand on my chest with glow in the dark paint and tried to wash it off but missed some of it.
"It's a birthmark," knowing full well where it came from. Ever so slowly, it faded away in front of both of us.
Scrambling to get out of bed, I realized at some point I had given Alley what she wanted. I was completely naked and looking back, so was she. Forgetting moments like that really pissed me off.
Opening the door I flew out onto the catwalk struggling to put my pants on. Placing my hand on the wall for the lift to my office, I stepped on and it took me up into the ceiling. Scanning my hand at my desk and clicking on the Yahoo icon, I typed in a search for seductive woman mythology. Seemed strange to me at the time when my fingers typed that as the search.
Links popped up all over. Some were about sirens, some about the bible, and some about Greek and Roman myths. Wanting to filter it down faster made me realize I didn't even know what it was that needed to be searched for. It was like an itch inside of my skull that there was no way to scratch.
Sitting in my chair, the lift came up with Bob on it. He had a smug look on his face.
"Man, you look like shit," he said.
Laughing at the thought, "Yeah, God damn nightmare's!"
He looked at me with something on his mind, "You know, the best way I found to think is to go to the shooting range."
"Hell, why not. That sounds like a good idea. You know a place to go," he gave me the 'Duh Stupid' look. "Yeah, right. We should drop Alley off."
"Tired of her already?" he chuckled to himself.
"No, just after today I want to go home. I need to relax in a place above ground for a bit. You want to get Remy and the kids together and have us all fly out at the same time? The movers can pack everything up and ship it out without you there," and he didn't have to leave my side.
"Yeah, that sounds good. I just want to make sure I have all the weapons out so the movers aren't messing with it." That made a lot of sense.
"All the weapons?" How many did he have? It sounded like the guy had an arsenal in his house. An image of Rambo with 75 guns all over his body popped into my head. It wasn't just Bob, it was Ram-Bob. I couldn't help but laugh a little.
"I have a few guns at the house, just in case. Living at your place, I'm going to need them!" he exaggerated.
Really, you couldn't argue with that after how we met. For all I knew, some company was out there planning to take me hostage again and try to topple my companies. It wasn't that difficult to see why the extra protection would make a lot of sense. The size of the house, though, was spaced out enough to never see each other for days. I doubt that would happen, but it was possible none the less.
I stood up, "Let's go."