She stood as if in the middle of time, taking it all in. This Hitgal, I believe. Selling corndogs for the pick’n. Or was it cornogs? And whatever happened to that vow to have less questions in this here blog? Hmmm?
Someone approached her, slightly hobbled. “I lost my cane. Can you help me find my cane?” Dr. Mouse.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0026, 0304, Nautilus, Southwestern
She was very helpful, unlike the other one. She would help me in getting to my destination, this (he checked the nametag): Mae Baleia. I wonder if that’s Russian? I wonder… if she has a husband. *I* could be her husband.
“Dearest,” she calls over in her undetermined foreign accent, coaxing him out of his daydreams. “You’ll have to move on. I have other customers to deal with.”
Maybe not.
—–
Earlier:
“I was like ‘blublublu’, and he was like ‘eyoweyoweyow’, and then somebody jumped in and shouted, ‘Stop the plane!’. It was the pilot — Tickie — blue fellow. The pilot made the plane after all; 1 to 1. Jen Saunders held up the index fingers of both hands here. Stan Gunderson realized she would be of no help in getting to his destination.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0026, 0303, Nautilus, Southwestern
I went ground-side to look for the site of the crash, if it was a crash. Jen Saunders insisted that it *wasn’t* a crash, and that all passengers arrived at Delhi, New Delhi and thereabouts intact and with wits still in place. I knew *something* had occurred, some anomaly. I thought back to the movie “Sphere” and the anomaly there, which was a black hole, perhaps an X 1/9 variety. Used car salesman Jonathan Piper insisted it had to be lime colored and not lemon in his early mid-life crisis (according to his wife the esteemed Mrs. Jonathan Studebaker Piper). “Pipe down, son,” he exclaimed while on the phone about it to still yelling Cory, sometimes known as Peter because of the last name and all. It was a mystery, a conundrum, and chef-inspector Petty was here to help solve it. But he seemed more interested to know the whereabouts of the girl with the schweet secret smile than the passenger ship. He wanted to move, in other words, from Lower to Upper Austra, beyond bridging green valley into the beige highland again. In other words, away from Collagesity and its personal sphere of influence (as centered between Highways 13 and 14). Anyway, back to the place indicated by the road. Sign confusion! Indian Lake Road straight ahead and to the right and Airport Road to the right and the left. We appear to be in all places at once without being anywhere atall. Sounds about right.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0026, 0115, Illinois
He looked at the book, the book looked at he.
—–
“So describe this woman,” Chef-inspector Petty requested, calm and eating peanuts out of an imaginary bag as usual. He’d been observing the developing situation for a while. The yells of “Tom” from Cory, the hysterics of Jen Saunders yesterday, the tripping over the Asian girl with the dull red book, knocking it on the floor to a specific page he noticed. He flipped 10 and noticed again, then. Anderson County — mention of Anderson. And then the crash. And then the turtle from the ditch, dragged back in by a tiny witch. It was all adding up to something, perhaps 45.
“It *wasn’t* a *woman*,” still a bit discombobulated Jen Saunders exasperated. “I *told* you. It was a plane. Or a missing plane.”
“How many on board when it crashed?” Here he obviously thought of her crashing into oh so yelling Cory.
“It *didn’t* crash. All passengers arrived at Dehli or New Dehli, bodies intact, if not wits.” She shakes her head, as if correcting something loose in it. “Oh, yes, their wits as well. It is as if they never *missed* the plane.”
“You said the plane was full (though).”
“The plane *was* full.” Head shaking again. “Oh, I see. No they didn’t realize there was no plane around them, propelling them forward. ‘Not missing’ as in ‘not realizing’, not: missing the plane in the first place.”
“Oh.” He gobbles another imaginary goober. Or not — doesn’t matter. Description is variable, as is space/time itself. He makes a mental note that he might be dealing with an automaton. She hadn’t answered anything about the woman he was *really* interested in, this W.
What should they say next, I ponder.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0026, 0107, Lower Austra^, Nautilus
“Did you see that turtle, Cory?”
“I sure did, Eckert.”
“I wonder what Austin would think of it?”
“Probably try to read it like an Oracle.”
Wise words from just a pair of kids in an airport terminal full of real and make-believe planes.
The turtle was dragged down into a ditch running beside the terminal by a woman almost half its size. C and E (as they like to call themselves) witnessed it all from the big side windows. Was this possible? Ditch water?
Oh, I forgot I was suppose to cut back on the questions here.
Ditch, though. A ditch had been dug in Collagesity shortly after it moved back to the Nautilus continent on its former land. Was… I mean, we could speculate this was also a water ditch. Or maybe a ditch that a pipeline would be laid in for a cleaner, purer source of the H2O.
When Austin joined the fun later, they decided to unite their efforts in understanding this turtle and what it meant for their future.
—–
“I was all like *blublublu* and shaking like a leaf… look, Delta, I’m *still* shaking.
“But the plane got to where it was suppose to be, thank Gods in heaven. Or at least the passengers did.”
Cafe attendant Delta Cedaredge asked discombobulated flight tracker Jen Saunders if she was going to stand there all day jabbering or if she actually wanted something, because he had other customers, like the shadowy man standing just behind her. Shadow Man we’ll call him. Delta had seen all this before, every day. Passengers taking off from the terminal without a plane. He knew the turtle was behind it — and behind him. He lived in that ditch with the unclean water back there, just waiting to come out and scare his customers. “You sir, behind the lady.” He couldn’t wait. “What’ll it be?”
“Just a glass of boiled water please.” See what I mean?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0026, 0106, Lower Austra^, Nautilus
Sunklands 