Cloud Riders (6 page)

"Yes, I know in a general sense where your Vicki is. I do not know her exact location. However, I know how to show you the process you need to find her.” Maken paused and glared into Paul's eyes. “Have I confused you enough to gain your interest? You are in control of your own life and perhaps...” His voice lowered. “Vicki and the rest of this solar system."

[Back to Table of Contents]

"Remember what your father taught you,” Maken said and paused long enough to allow his teaching to absorb into Paul's thinking. “What you perceive becomes your mind's life experience. Call it your Earth reality."

Maken spoke about realities much as Paul's dad had over the years.

"The next step, Paul, is the key necessary to finding your sister, and more. Understand there is another actuality, one parallel to Earth reality. You reach it through imagination."

"But isn't my imagination a part of my Earth reality?” The words were out of Paul's mouth before he realized he said them.

"I speak of Earth imagination taken to a new level."

"The Twilight Zone?” Paul tried to joke and gulped, his flippant remarks on automatic.

Maken seemed pleased. “Good! Think of this as being parallel—"

"You already said parallel."

"Think of it as your parallel-imagined-life.” Maken grinned widely. “Your life perception, on steroids."

"Sir, did you teach Dad this same thing?"

"Yes. Your father was directly involved with saving this planet you call your home."

Paul held his breath, but not in time to stop his question. “Why couldn't
he
teach me?"

"One sees what one sees, and this is your world. You do as you do and the why, if known, is your life map. Your father has been slowly readying you for this mission, as I taught him for his. You experience through what you see, hear, touch, smell, feel and imagine. Your father could indeed have taught you if not for the timing of this task you and only you must perform."

"To save Earth, like you said he did?"

Maken smiled and appeared to enjoy Paul's questions, so Paul quit asking them.

"More. To save the solar system.” The old man's voice remained cheerful. “Paul, concentrate on the cloud you called a horse on steroids. Watch its subtleties as it ebbs and flows. It appears white, yet think of the rainbow of colors it contains. Brilliant yellows, gentle golds, blazing reds, magnificent blues, greens, violets, and oranges. Carefully analyze the cloud. Flow with it. Become one with your observation."

Paul studied the cloud. His eyes closed involuntarily. He drifted into an unsure state, not certain of its cause, himself or Maken. In his mind the cloud changed. An oversized pillow transformed into an inverted openmouthed creature silently laughing.

Maken Fairchild's voice drifted into his consciousness from a far off place within Paul's psyche. “Concentrate. What entity would you most enjoy riding?"

"Dad's unicorn.” Paul had no awareness whether he spoke aloud or only thought he did.

Maken's voice came closer and rolled into Paul's mind in a tidal wave of sound. “Make it happen!” His voice became a whisper and faded away. “Make it happen."

The place between remembrance and dreams blurred. Paul studied his mind-image of the big fat horse. He tried to envision the unicorn his dad had perceived. Same cloud, two perceptions, two realities.

Far away, Maken's voice came in a dream murmur. “The horn, Paul. See the horn."

Maybe, Paul figured, there existed no old guy named Maken Fairchild and he had conjured him up in his parallel-imagined-life. This would mean his life existence came from inside a dream. Perhaps this part of it would all go away when he woke up.

The murmur came from behind a far-off cloud, more thought than voice. “If you invented Maken Fairchild, you must have the ability to imagine your horse growing a horn."

Paul's eyelids remained closed. His concentration became a laser beam trying to see the fat horse's horn.

The voice surrounded his mind. “Realize the possibilities and magic will happen. It is from the imagination all perception originates."

"Easy for you to say,” Paul said. “I mean, you're like my dad. You know everything and tell me about it in little bits and puzzle pieces. So you tell me mud is blue and all browns disappear from my life. Like Vicki. Gone.” Maken made about as much sense as his algebra teacher. Paul continued anyway. “I could turn a cloud into Vicki and she could tell me how come you know so much and me so little."

"Allow your mind to express what it will. Question and see all the blue mud it desires. Flow with it. Feel yourself drifting into a daydream. As you imagine, so it is. Drift into it. Leave behind expectations and see the life you desire. Live it as real and it will become your reality.” Although still faint, Maken's voice came to Paul with absolute clarity.

Paul stared at the cloud formation in his mind. The horn. He could see it! His concentration had created a different view of the same horse form. The horn had been there all along, waiting for him to bring it into his reality.

Energized into a reverie existence, his horse cloud became a unicorn to mount within his imagination and ride off into a new unexplored life. He participated in two lives, one of Earthly capture, the other of imagination. He became an escaped prisoner, soaring free of limitations.

Far away, hardly audible, Maken spoke. “You will soon meet my good friend Reshape. Reshape will guide you."

Paul opened his eyes. He soared above earth, riding his magnificent cloud unicorn. The breeze moved his hair, yet he didn't feel cold nor heat. The excitement of the moment captured all his thoughts. He rode a heavenly rollercoaster through dreams, and he could reach out and grab stars and put them in his pockets.

He was Superman, then Batman, then both. He performed in a spiritual circus; became every superhero who ever existed. The music of the life-carousel sounded from inside him, danced with his mind until pure joy erased all the negatives of life replace by this spark of pure bliss he would forever remember and cherish.

"This is the one place I can be forever free,” Paul whispered. “I believe. I believe."

Isno purred from atop a small cloud beside Paul and his ride. The cloud kept pace with Paul's unicorn.

"Wow, Isno. That has to be the best jump you ever made."

In Paul's new world, fear of heights no longer existed. No steam escaped his mouth, as it did outdoors on Earth's frosty days. The freedom of his ride brought tears to his eyes, and he laughed so hard his sides hurt. Never before had he felt so liberated.

"Hey, Isno. Bet you never thought you'd be taking a trip like this with me."

"Human Paul me hear?” Isno answered in a purring voice.

Paul's eyes widened. “Yes, I hear you, Isno. Excuse me, but how long have you been able to speak?"

"Yesterday since."

"You mean ‘since yesterday'."

"Why say?"

"That's just the way it's said, Isno.” Paul saw no understanding in his cat's demeanor. “We have certain ways we speak. You are mixing up the order of your words."

"Why say?"

"Because you're a cat, I guess."

"Okay not?"

Paul shook his head and laughter escaped into the wind. His thoughts joked with him. His cat could talk and he worried over the order of his words.

He heard Vicki's laugh. The sound defied location and swirled around him, a teasing elation he could ride in circles pursuing. But the sound brought the knowledge she existed somewhere up here with him. Good thing, she laughed. Bad thing, where was she?

Out of the corner of his eyes Paul thought he caught a glimpse of something just beyond Isno. He jerked his head around toward it. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He couldn't believe his eyes.

Just beyond Isno, Paul witnessed the semi-transparent figure of a boy. Then he disappeared.
A ghost? Maybe a new cloud rider playing hide and seek
. A memory flashed. He knew it had to be the same green-eyed boy he thought he saw at school. Somehow, he knew this boy.

"Isno, did you see anything off to the left a moment ago? A boy? With green eyes?"

The cat turned to face Paul. “Thing see no."

"You didn't even look.” Paul waited for the cat to glance in the other direction. “I saw someone off to your left, ahead of you where you might of seen him.” He continued to wait for Isno to turn his head.

Isno blinked his good eye. “Boy see no."

"Honestly, Isno, why are you here if not to help me?"

"Ride fun cat?” Isno grinned, his whiskers twitching. “Meow?"

"Master?"
a friendly female voice overrode Isno's ‘meow'.

Paul looked for the owner of the interruption. Did he hear it only in his head, or had Isno disguised his voice to sound female?

A breeze brushed past Paul's face. If his imagined life had any meaning, then he may as well forget what he thought he saw and try to enjoy what he did see. “I've never been this free, Maken Fairchild! Where have you been all my life?” The flight surpassed the ecstasy of a flying dream. Totally secure on his unicorn ride, they overtook other clouds and breezed by like they owned the sky. Paul Winsome, master of his universe.

The rapture proved to be short-lived, interrupted when he heard Vicki's faint giggle. He willed his cloud to fly toward the sound. The cloud changed directions, hopefully toward Vicki.

Several yards from Paul, there appeared an object so weird he could only stare at it in disbelief. Not a semi-transparent boy with green eyes, but a gray flying elephant. It lifted its pink trunk and blew a blast. “
Thruumpttttpt!
” Its trunk transformed to gray once the sound escaped.

Paul shook his head to see if the image would shake out of his mind. He closed and opened his eyes. The trunk turned pink as it
Thruumpttttpted.

Isno purred and watched the flying elephant as if he visited with an old friend.

Paul's eyes widened.
How can Isno be so undisturbed by the sudden pachyderm flyby.
It had been a very impressive
Thruumpttttpt.
To be as blase about it as Isno deprived his sense of logic. His unicorn cloud drifted toward the elephant and Isno's cloud puff followed.

"So, Paul, how do you feel about flying elephants? I know you might think it is fun seeing one, but trust me; it is more of a frolicking blast to be one."

After his heart dropped back into his chest, Paul watched the sun's reflection change the elephant's color to a golden tan. Jumbo-type floppy ears pressed close to his head unused to aid navigation. Its wide thick feet tromped across the air as if it were ground.

"Did you just talk to me?” Paul asked in an excited voice. “You're an elephant!"

"I know I am an elephant. Do you think I could be an elephant and not know it? I would be most appreciative if you would speak to me before my next form change. My appearance is limited due to having to avoid one Kid Badd with two d's. Excuse me.” The elephant raised its trunk and it turned a deep pinkish red. “
Thruumpttttpt
!” It lowered its trunk, its color returning to golden tan. “When you have to
Thruumpttttpt!
you have to
Thruumpttttpt!
"

"Forgive me. I've never heard of a flying elephant who talked. In fact, I've never before in my lifetime seen a flying elephant. You're my first one. But my cat seems to know you. His name is Isno Gravity."

"He is aptly named, Paul Winsome. My name is Reshape. I believe your flight instructor mentioned me."

"Hello, Reshape. Yes sir, Maken Fairchild mentioned you. Have you seen an eleven-year-old girl with blond hair and blue eyes? Her name is Vicki."

"Is she an exceptionally bright girl, one who could have a discussion with an elephant, and laugh when he
Thruumpttttpted?"

A serge of excitement shot juices through his body. “Yes! Yes! That's her! Where is she? Can you lead us to her?"

"Of course I could, if I had ever met such a girl."

"That isn't fair!” Paul shouted. “Mister Maken Fairchild said you'd be our guide. If you don't know where Vicki is, how can you guide us?"

"
Thruumpttttpt
!"

Paul blinked. Faster than an eye can wink the elephant became a purple stag, its antlers changed to a magnificent regal red.

Isno purred.

Paul's dad had taught him: ‘Pleasure without its opposite is undefined.’ Pleasure became defined as it turned into pain the next instant. A disassociated voice echoed inside Paul's head—this threatening sound much different than the friendliness of the feminine voice who called him ‘master’ earlier. It sounded abrasive and demanding.
Go home. Escape the burn. Ignore this warning and you die!
Paul glanced at Isno. He didn't appear to hear the harsh warning.
My son will demonstrate

[Back to Table of Contents]

The translucent green-eyed boy flew out of a nearby cloud. His arms pressed against his body, legs unmoving, standing at military attention and riding downhill as if on a skateboard. The ramrod-straight posture almost made Paul laugh, until he heard Isno's hissing and spitting, his arched back hairs bristled like defensive porcupine quills.

Two beams of green light shot from the boy's eyes. They combined into a single laser lightning strike of intense brightness and flashed directly at Paul.

"Look out!” Paul shouted.

His cloud veered sideways away from the projectile beam. Liquid fire brushed the side of Paul's face and left arm and the green searing heat blazed past him. The scorching shot missed him by only inches and, unlike not feeling sky temperatures before, he experienced the hot sting scorch his skin. His eyelids slammed shut, the laser beam almost blinding him. The brightness illuminated the moment and through his eyelids Paul watched it miss Isno by less than a yard and flash toward Reshape, who instantly miniaturized into a golden-brown beetle. The violent green beam narrowly missed Reshape and shot into a nearby cloud, momentarily illuminating it into a static-charged emerald glow. Paul held his breath; the second shot would surely kill them all.