Paradox II: The Chancelling: Ultramarine


From: “baker b.” <edwardston@yahoo.com>
Date: Sat Dec 31, 2005  3:50 am
Subject: You Orrin North Dakota  edwardston
Offline Offline
Send Email Send Email
Remove Author | Ban AuthorPierre: “Soybean Dean warned me you were heading my way.”baker: “You’ve *seen* Soybean Dean?”Pierre: “Yes, and he visited your house in [delete town name].”baker: “No he didn’t. Or he didn’t come in. He told you this?”Pierre: “He visited and he came into your house and talked to you and Edna for quite a while. He even videotaped the whole thing. In his mind’s eye.”Pierre shakes the videotape in his hand at baker, and points between his eyes with the other.

Pierre: “He knew you would come here to look at it, and have me give further instructions. You see… you *see*, in me giving you the gift of the Archies and then you creating the 10×10 to house my transformation from loving parents to giving son, you allowed me to create from future to present and meet you halfway, as you work from past to present. That’s how I knew you were coming, and how I have the videotape now. It’s all in who you know. Did you forget about going to Ohio as well?”

Baker was very confused by now. He had, on impulse, driven from his home in North Carolina to North Dakota to visit Pierre. He wasn’t sure why he did it, only that he had some remaining time off from work over the holidays and had become sick of the doing the same routine on this break, day after day, in his home town of [delete].

He hadn’t called (he didn’t understand why now, in hindsight). He knew that Pierre would be there because of all the snow. He should have thought more, obviously, about if *he* could get to Pierre because of the bad December weather. There were a lot of unexplained things about his visit, most of which had only surfaced to his conscious mind beginning a couple of minutes ago, when he first sat down with Pierre for a serious conversation. He had driven straight from North Carolina to North Dakota, although the trip was a blur. Shorter than expected… another oddity.

baker: “I came straight up here. Didn’t stop. I can’t even remember stopping for food! What’s going on?”

Pierre: “You didn’t call; you just hopped in your car and came up here. You knew I would be here. Didn’t think about the weather. Didn’t think about Edna.. have you even called her? You can use my phone after we finish talking for now. I insist. But she’s not worried… I’ve already called her, and Cammie’s already called her as well. She’s overjoyed, as you can imagine, at knowing that Soybean Dean is alive and kicking, and not embodied in the now expired mechanism Peter Dunne at all. You *do* remember Peter Dunne don’t you baker?”

baker: “Of course!”

Pierre: “I couldn’t show Edna the videotape over the phone, of course, but she obviously believes Cammie and I when we tell her this. You will remember the real event when you see the taped version, Soybean explained to me. It is, at the center, a tape of a tape, so there might be some confusion about the layering. Think Sophie’s No. 9, and the black and white film in the middle of the surrounding, colored Sophie’s Place.”

baker: “I can’t wait!”

*****

5 minutes later, baker was reliving the visit of Soybean Dean to their house in [delete town] not 3 days ago. It was Monday, the day after Christmas. Edna and baker had just returned from Mythopolis. It was both a very sad Christmas and a happy Christmas. They had gotten to spend time with baker’s niece, whom they hadn’t seen in 3 years. At the same time… well, the whole Peter Dunne incident. Pierre was not there but there at the same time. Back to Monday, though. So baker and Edna were back home, and baker, shortly after the sun had set, was looking out the window of the front door of the house, thinking how the world might have changed in the meantime. He had the strange notion that John Lennon was now alive because of the Peter Dunne sacrifice in Tempe, Arizona. Also, perhaps, John Kennedy. Or at least, if they weren’t still alive (especially Kennedy), that they weren’t murdered/assassinated but lived long lives and died a peaceful old age. Baker thought that tomorrow morning, he might find information about Lennon, especially, releasing a new album, or talking about a visit from his two sons at Christmas. Then he sees a shadowy figure at their two cars he can view from the door, about 30 feet outside the house. He immediately thinks of John Lennon as a child for some reason, but as the figure approaches he knows who it is, although he was now obviously taller and more filled out. It was Soybean Dean. Baker runs away from the door to confront Edna, who is lying on the couch. “Get ready, Edna!” he says excitedly. “You’re in for a big surprise!” Edna pulls herself upright. There’s a soft knock at the door. Edna’s eyes open very wide. “Soybean!” she exclaims excitedly. Baker goes to the door. A surprisingly bluish, yet familiar face stares in from the window. Baker opens the door and Soybean walks in.

Pierre (in the present): “Are you remembering it all now?”

baker: “Yes!”

Soybean sits on the front couch closest to the door, as he had in all his previous visits. He sets the small pack he brought with him on the couch as well. He is about a half a head taller than when they had seen him last. But the most obvious change was the color. He was very blue! As blue as Peter Dunne should have turned, baker quickly realized. And his eyes glowed blue as well, the blue filling both the pupil and cornea to make them almost indistinguishable from each other, at least upon first glance. Edna wanted to rush over and hung the still young lad, but restrained herself, only in part because of the strange new coloring.

Soybean Dean: “I’m back.”

baker: “Yes, so we see. We’re so glad to see you!”

Edna: “Yes Dean. So glad! Forgive me for not rushing over immediately to give you a big hung but I just did my nails.”

Soybean Dean: “Of course.”

Edna: “We thought. Dean, we feared…”

Soybean Dean: “I no longer existed.”

Edna: “Right.”

baker: “What we mean is, we thought you had…”

Soybean Dean: “You thought I was the same as Peter Dunne.”

baker: “Yeah. Peter Dunne.”

Soybean Dean: “A Dunne deal Peter Dunne.”

baker: “Um, right.”

Soybean Dean: “Something has changed.”

baker: “Well, we can see that. You’re blue!”

Edna: “Tell us what happened, Dean.”

Soybean Dean: “Sherwood sent me here. I’ve wanted to come, mind you, many times, if only for a social visit. But I knew I shouldn’t. But this time it’s business. Part pleasure, part business. I’m very glad to see you as well!”

Edna: “I’m just very happy.”

Edna spontaneously goes over to Soybean, and holds his hands for a minute, then retreats to her own couch.

Soybean Dean: “The house hasn’t changed. Cats doing okay?”

Edna: “Fine, fine. Sepia, come out. You remember Dean don’t you? He’s the one that fed you when we were at work sometimes. Come on out and say hello.”

baker: “I suppose Wilson is in the bedroom asleep.”

Edna: “Suppose so.” “Sepia,” she calls again. “Oh well, he may come out later.”

baker: “This, er, business you mention.”

Soybean Dean: “Oh yes. Sherwood has decided to assign a creek for an apprenticeship. I am to leave at the end of this week.”

Edna: “Well, that’s wonderful Dean. Where is… I mean, can you tell us anything about it?”

Soybean Dean: “Certainly. It is a wonderful place to the north of here. It’s more of a swamp than a creek, though, or so I’m told. I’ll have to go back in time.”

baker: “North? You mean in [delete] county?”

Soybean Dean: “Oh no, sir. Much further north. In Ohio. I am told I will begin to see it in a place called Jump. Appropriate name, but designed for the job, you see.”

baker: “I see.”

Soybean Dean: “Sherwood explained to me that I have to take on this assignment now, even though, ideally, I should wait until next year or perhaps even the year after that. But he says events have changed.”

baker: “This has to do with Peter Dunne?”

Soybean Dean: “The thing that has changed has to do with the giving up of the body. The jumping off point would be a place of death to the mortal. However, as I said…. things have changed. He holds his hands out, emphasizing the change of color in his body.”

baker: “Can you tell us about this… change?”

Soybean Dean: “The change, although anticipated as best as possible, came in an unexpected way. I am now purest jasper.”

Baker and Edna look at each other, trying to take this in.

baker: “Are you the same as a diamond, then?”

Soybean Dean: “I have such a body. I have brought along a videotape, a tape inside a tape, to confuse and clear up the matter further. To make opaque and transparent at once. Baker’s Creek is off-limits now,
father baker. There is a monster inside.”

Without waiting for a reply, Soybean Dean pulls out a videotape from his pack, and moves toward the VCR and inserts the tape.

Soybean Dean (turning to baker): “I cannot remember how your remotes work. Can you assist me?”

baker: “Certainly.”

Pierre (in the present): “This is where it might get a little confusing baker, because we’re now going inside a tape that’s on the tape. Just keep that in mind.”

baker: “Right, I will.”

baker (in the past): “Okay, here goes.” He presses play.

(to be continued)

*****


From: “baker b.” <edwardston@yahoo.com>

Date: Sat Dec 31, 2005  5:23 am
Subject: You Orrin North Dakota, 2  edwardston
Offline Offline
Send Email Send Email
Remove Author | Ban Author

“Golden Hair!” I spontaneously chancelled, and then I was outside the screen again, watching the mayhem recede. I looked over at Soybean Dean, and his eyes were aglow, but then quickly became the “normal” blue pupil inside blue cornea. Not ordinary, mind you, but not glowing, not “possessed” looking. I saw the same energy that I had just withdrawn from in the screen also recede from his eyes, as if he was causing the whole thing. And now, according to Pierre, he was.

“Take your time,” Soybean urged. “It’s difficult, the tape inside the tape. I’ve been trained; you haven’t. Not in waking consciousness anyway.”

Baker turned to Edna, who had watched the whole event as well. “What did you see, Edna?”

Edna: “Well, I saw… I saw a monster!”

There was a weighted pause. Baker was remembering the monster as well. But, from the present peering into the past into the further past, perhaps, it was difficult to view the monster clearly, as Soybean had warned.

“It broke off…” baker then said.

“From The Lord!” Edna finished.

*****

Pierre: “I am not The Lord. No. Don’t start with that.”

baker: “I didn’t even hint at that. I know you are mortal.”

Pierre: “That’s not Soybean Dean as well.”

baker: “Although he did hint around that he was immortal now. A change, as he said. Premature, perhaps, but necessary at this time.”

Pierre: “What did you see?”

baker: “I saw the monster break off from The Lord. Like breaking an egg, somehow. I can’t remember exactly!”

Baker then remembered that Pierre looked at the same video. “What did *you* see?”

Pierre: “I saw the same as you. You don’t realize something.”

“I created the tape,” baker then realized.

Pierre: “Correct.”

*****

Edna: “Well, I remember the monster breaking off from The Lord and then moving toward us as we sit on the High and Low Peak.”

baker: “Hilo Peak.”

Edna: “Yeah. And he was moving toward us not in the way that I would move toward you to, for instance, take this glass out of your hand (Edna moves toward baker and takes his glass out of his hand, and then hands it back), but, um, sideways. Sort of like a crab, I suppose. But the figure wasn’t real. It was cartoon-ish, but not quite that either. Hey, remember the aliens in “Aquateen Hungerforce”?”

baker: “Yeah, I… which ones? `Cause there were two sets of aliens on that show.”

Edna: “Oh yeah. It seems… Strange, but it seems like it was a combination of the two. The two sets, I mean.”

baker: “You mean the computer bit people. Smurf and Murf. No, that’s not it. Dammit, what were their names?”

Edna: “And then the other pair. The one that talked like a German and then his sidekick, the one that didn’t.”

baker: “So perhaps both angular and jagged shaped ? the outlines, I mean ? at the same time.”

Pierre: “Fractal, perhaps.”

baker: “That’s perhaps as close as we’re going to get. Fractal it is.”

Edna: “Sounds good.”

*****

Edna: “But, anyway, it moved toward me — us — in this crab-like way — again, that’s not exactly how the movement was, but it’s the best I can do…”

baker: “What did it do? I mean, I have my version, but I want to hear yours first, unless you want me to go first.”

Edna: “You go first.”

baker “I saw the monster just as you describe. I can identify or grok with everything you’ve said so far. So it moved toward us, and then extended its hand. But there’s confusion here again, I feel, because in my mind’s eye now, I see the hand as not right or left, but both at once! Like we’re looking at two superimposed screens, all of a sudden, one flipped in relationship to the other, perhaps.”

Edna: “Yes. I saw the same!”

baker: “So the hand, or hands, extended toward us while we sat on this peak, which, by the way, I could feel was quickly vibrating, over and over, in [the wave colors of] red and blue. Highest and lowest. The monster, in contrast, was green, or had a green vibration about him.”

Joyce James (from the present): “The green-eyed monster.”

baker: “His name was… his name was Hidalgo. The Monster Hidalgo.”

Edna: “That sounds correct!”

baker: “And then… we went inside the hand. He extended his hand toward us, which was *massive*, and then we were inside. You, me, the Parrot Memm, Pierre, Cammie… I don’t remember Joyce James in there but perhaps she was.”

Edna: “I can’t…”

baker: “And then.. confusion! More confusion, I mean.”

Edna: “Nothing was right. I remember, though, the hole, the portal, being in the center of the palm of the hand. And I remember the ridges of the skin vividly. Like jagged metal, they seemed. Green metal.”

baker: “Something like that. Perhaps you remember that better than me. Do you want me to continue?”

Edna: “Sure.”

baker: “And then, as you said, we went inside the portal. It was like a tornado, I suppose. We were both descending into the hole, and whirling around it at the same time.”

Edna: “You are doing a good job of describing the event. Nothing in it makes sense! Like we were in a different dimension of some kind.”

“Like a cartoon,” Pierre proffered.

Edna: “Something like that.”

Pierre: “Aquateen.”

baker: “And then I just remember everything being chaos. We were back on Baker’s Creek, in our individual boats… you, me, Cammie and Pierre, and the parrot circling around us. Dean wasn’t there, though.”

Pierre: “What would you attached the significance of that absence to?”

baker: “What?”

Pierre: “Where was he?”

baker: “He was sitting over there on the couch, watching it with us, just like you’re sitting here with us now, watching…”

Pierre (from the present): “We were out of our kayaks and rafts; not floating on the creek atall. Up in the air; spinning around in circles. I remember now.”

baker: “The parrot flew all around us, trapped in the whirlwind as well.”

Edna (from the past): “Squawk! it went. Over and over and over.”

Pierre: “Spideroctopus.”

baker: “We had to pull out. Golden Hair!”

*****

Soybean Dean returns to the couch and puts the tape back in his pack. “We are ready to continue.”

(to be continued)


From: “baker b.” <edwardston@yahoo.com>
Date: Sun Jan 1, 2006  6:13 am
Subject: always save the top  edwardston
Offline Offline
Send Email Send Email
Remove Author | Ban Author
“It will be a better year this year Edna. I promise.””2005 kind of sucked,” Edna admitted.”We have a new beginning,” baker replied. “A type of closure has been achieved. I didn’t know the new year would be involved till now but I guess it can be. New beginning. Wipe the slate clean.”Cammie: “Odd that when you told Edna about Soybean Dean, baker, that Edna would also remember.”Edna: “Just talking about it brought back the memories.”

baker: “Edna has a much better memory than I.”

Edna: “That’s not true. My memory sucks!”

baker: “Not so.”

Cammie: “Well, you did remember the war. We’d both forgotten. You had to remind us, then.”

baker: “And I wouldn’t have remembered what happened to Soybean if it weren’t for the videotape. Um, videotapes.”

Baker smiles, remembering there were two tapes, one played by Pierre and one by Soybean.

baker: “Strange about Ekard.”

Edna: “Yes.”

baker: “He was”

[tape cuts off prematurely]

*****

Standing outside the St. John’s Church several minutes earlier, baker b., true to Pierre’s word, learns the reality about Thomas Seth (“Set”) Ekard. The parrot had told him even earlier in the pet shop in [substitute: Blue Mountain], but he hadn’t made himself clear. Is it selfish to want to know about the life before this one? Pierre thought baker should know, because of [Peter Dunne]. Funerals can be a nexus of lives: past, present, future. There had to be closure. Yes, but more. There had to be fusion, but a fusion that could not be conceived. Perhaps like Adam and Lilith before Adam and Eve, we had to move back to a place where there was two within one. The Adam and Eve myth, after all, was a convenient replacement for the story of the hermaphrodite at the beginning of time, convenient in that it didn’t upset the male hier-archie of the day. That certainly would be replaced in his church. The buck stops here. A cache of memories will be set in its proper place. Pierre was right for bringing this to my attention.

*****

I checked the name again before entering, Edna by my side. St. John’s instead of St. Joseph’s. And, of course, I was coloring the whole event with my own emotional background and prejudices. I knew who I would meet inside: Brainard, the severed, the castaway. Head as big as a state or an island province. Newfound or newborn. Alive again in all his glory.

*****

“We’ve got to go where, did you say?”

Pierre: “Illinois. To the Grove. [Peter Dunne] desires closure and wehave to give it to [him]. We have to attend. We have to *create* inthe first place. You do this by shifting St. Joseph’s to St. John’s, and make the two rivers become one again. One source. One origin. One *body* of waters.”

“Interesting how I couldn’t tell that was coming up.”

“You’re watching the screen again. From the future.”

*****

Jump was barely a village at all, just a collection of houses centered by the standard, obligatory country store. “The Island,” I said, noting the name and wondering about the significance. “Coincidence you think?” “Maybe,” Soybean replied, but then quickly added, “turn the car around father baker. Go back and park.” I found out later that he had realized where his jumping off point would be, and his contact.

Behind the store of our story was a steep bank, steep at least for this region of the country. We went in The Island and looked around. The store had all wooden floors. It wasn’t modern in the least, except for the refrigeration. The cash register wasn’t even computerized. Things appeared ancient; the store was a relic from a time long gone. Soybean asked me to buy him a grape soda. He appeared to be scrutinizing everything very carefully: floors, ceiling, merchandise, windows, and, after he returned from what appeared to be a storage room behind the counter, the purveyor of the store himself, a Mr. Isaac Lund as we soon found out. “Island,” as it turned out, stood for “I. Lund,” with the “lund” translated to “land.” “We don’t say i-*land,* around here after all,” he explained later, when we asked him about the name, “but i-*lund.* Just picked an amusing name to help people remember the place, is all.”

“Evening,” he began slightly earlier, taking up Soybean’s grape drink in a large and ancient hand. “That be all?”

“This store,” Soybean started right in. “It sat on the edge of the swamp, did it not?”

“That’s true enough. You boys from around here?” His bald head turned to the windows that might reveal the license plate of our car, his marble eyes, screwed into a sea of wrinkles, scanning the blocks of white light.

“No. We’re from North Carolina,” I offered. “We’re just passing through.”

“Do you know any stories?” Soybean Dean immediately tacks on. “Mr., um, Mr…”

“Lund.”

Here’s where he tells us the story of the name of the store, upon Soybean’s further prodding.

“Would you like to see it?” he then asked, and I noticed he was talking more between us than to either one of us. Noting the marble- like eyes again, I wondered if he was at least partially blind, or could only see very bright objects. Like the windows in the front of the store.

“The swamp?” I asked.

Isaac Lund didn’t respond to me directly, but just waved us back behind the counter to the door that he had only shortly emerged from. It was a store room, true, but there was also a door with a window at the back of it. We made our way through the dusty boxes of supplies and gathered around the window, crowding together. I could smell the chewing tobacco from Isaac Lund’s mouth. He seemed to be able to see again ? out the window. At least his eyes were flicking back and forth, seeming to take in the landscape. Soybean Dean was studying just as hard. The window revealed the vast, flat tract behind it, an impressive vista from this perch.

“You see?” he asked after a spell.

I was about to respond, but Soybean’s reply quickly filled my place.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, I see. I definitely see.”

Then Mr. Isaac Lund turns toward the boy, giving him a long look at last, and then me, as if he could see for the first time. His eyes, I noted, had changed, or else I didn’t note the color properly before. Perhaps the light in the back was different from the front. Wouldn’t surprise me, given what followed. But the eyes, now, were blue pupils within blue corneas, just like Soybean Dean’s had been when he returned to Edna and I two nights before.

“The boy can stay with me,” he said. Not a question, just a statement of fact.

And that’s about all there was to it. Soybean immediately came to me and gave me a hug, and then returned to the window. I realized later on that he could see them even then: the monsters darting back and forth. It was, literally, a window into the past. And he was there among them, or would be shortly.

I left the store without Soybean Dean. Blurred memory began to replace actual events. I turned the car around and headed to the interstate several miles off. I had begun to forget about Ohio and Soybean Dean and Isaac Lund and think about North Dakota again and Pierre and Cammie. Soon the only memories I had of Jump and The Island, and of the entire Soybean Dean visit in the first place, were buried in the past as much as the swamp itself was. Only to be resurfaced or reactivated by a video. Two videos, I reminded myself.

*****

“Elephant parts is what he called them in our ride up to Ohio,” I explained to Edna later, while we were waiting to be led into St. John’s for the [Peter Dunne] funeral. “He said the monsters were all like pieces of a jumbo jigsaw puzzle, and the contact was only one who had the picture on the top of the puzzle box.”

“When will he return from this… school?” Edna asked, a couple more tears forming in her eyes.

I shrugged at the time, but 15 minutes later there he was, walking down the center aisle toward the casket, carrying in his outstretched hands the golden hair on a velvet scarf. A foot taller, he was, and an even deeper shade of blue.

Peter Dunne.

*****


From: “baker b.” <edwardston@yahoo.com>
Date: Mon Jan 2, 2006  5:12 am
Subject: Evils’ Blue Xmas  edwardston
Offline Offline
Send Email Send Email
Remove Author | Ban Author
*****On the fiction, now.I’ve recently completed 3 new fiction posts to go along with the 6 I already have made for the b_hive. These are 3 parts of 1 section, though, these new ones, with the reintroduction of Soybean Dean into the “novel”. Soybean Dean first shows up in the set of 7 fictional posts from Synchpatch — the 11-7-2 are created on that board. The 6- 3 newer ones are from b_hive.11 – 7 – 2 – 6 – 3*****

“We come here not to mourn but to cheer, for a wedding is being performed. Zona Gale and Peter Dunne.”

“But you’re Peter Dunne,” someone said in the congregation. I was surprised to find out this had actually come out of *my* mouth. Pierre, who was sitting two down from me in the same pew, leaned over and shushed me. No one else seemed to notice my disturbance of Dunne/Bean’s otherwise excellent benediction. Was that the right word for it, though?

“Thank you brother baker for that clarification and added confusion at the same time.”

“Father baker to you.” Again, I was surprised that I said this. Pierre gave me another, small glance, but seemed less concerned this time.

“Would you like to come up here, then, baker?”

“You’ve also got the Rainbow Sphere playing behind you. Did you realize that?” Again, why was I saying this?

“Please come up.” Peter Dunne/Soybean Dean allowed me to walk up and take the pulpit from him. “Now look out at the crowd.”

I scanned the pews of the small church. “No one there!”

“We are in an empty church. Where’s your Pierre, who was the only other one besides me that even knew there was anything odd going on atall? But he soon forgot as well. They are all there still, in the church, and we are too. But transparent has become opaque again, so they are temporarily hidden. So you were talking about the Rainbow Sphere?”

I looked out at the empty church again, and then looked at the wall behind where the choir was just sitting. Gone too, but *it* was still there.

“Tell me about it,” I said to Dunne/Bean.

“What’s not to tell? You know everything.”

“I know nothing!”

“You know the secret.”

“Is it…” I paused, thinking of the repercussions of what I was about to say. “Is it the beginning of my own religion?”

Dunne/Bean unexpectedly laughed. I mean, he laughed the way Pierre laughed when I mentioned the word cauliflower after we had talked long and hard about the a/v synch 4orrin1 about a month ago at my Blue Mountain home. But although Dunne/Bean threw back his head and held his guts with both hands, he was laughing so hard, he stopped short of choking, as Pierre had done that night. He was able to keep breathing. Pierre didn’t die, obviously, even though he lost his breath. He did turn a bit blue in the process, though. Blue! I looked at the deep blue color of Dunne’s face and hands, then, again.

“You’re dead!” I then found myself saying.

“Not true.” I am still among you.

“You are The Lord?” I then asked, but knew it was untrue. I tried again. “You are a monster.”

“True enough,” he answered to this anyway.

“But many monsters. The puzzle finished and laying atop the coffee table. A man named Orrin walks in and completes.” Again, I wasn’t really sure why I was saying all this.

Dunne/Bean didn’t answer me directly this time. “Pierre has an interesting portal going on between Orrin and Orr. You should think about that more *brother* baker.”

“Brother?”

We are one and the same now, baker. We are one in spirit and body. Just like the end of the Archies.”

“Booker T.’s?” I asked. But I knew the answer before finishing the question.

“Think hard, baker. Think back. Remember. Two funerals in one. Darwin – Dunne.”

“It’s only golden hair in the casket,” I reacted.

“When I put on the wig, I become Zona. Adam and Lilith in one body of waters.”

“We are playing elephant parts again,” I say. “Walking around blind, feeling different sides.”

“True enough, again. I am a hermaphrodite.”

I took this statement in. “This is sexual maturation.”

He nodded slightly, urging me on.

“This is death and rebirth at once. This is…”

“The jumping off point,” he encouraged.

I stared at the 3 dimensional sphere on the wall behind the pulpit again, watching the many faceted “head” move through time and space, triggered or manifested by a jump from artificial or adjusted fifth to perfect fifth — the Pythagorean comma. Like making a true mountain out of what was formerly only thought to be a mountain but really a mere hill. The strange atonal singing of the visiting Altona choir triggered it.

“Latona,” Dunne/Bean offered.

Damn mind reader, I thought. I must be dreaming. The damn appearance of the sphere, the head, triggered it. That’s when I began talking crazy. We are at a funeral and I had the impertinence to…”

“This is no mere funeral,” Dunne/Bean said, reading my mind again.

“You’re putting the thoughts in my head.”

“True enough.”

“Stop saying that.”

“Enough?”

I stared at the blue, um, *alien.* Yes, that’s what he definitely was now. An alien. From Sirius, I realized. Yes, I had to get that out of the way. Here was an alien from a different star system. I wondered if the sphere represented his home planet.”

“Blue Mountain,” he then said.

Our worlds were synchronized, I then realized. He wasn’t merely reading my mind. He *was*

{error on tape}


From: “baker b.” <edwardston@yahoo.com>
Date: Tue Jan 3, 2006  5:46 am
Subject: Ours away  edwardston
Offline Offline
Send Email Send Email
Remove Author | Ban AuthorPierre and baker are standing in front of Pierre and Cammie’s car outside of St. John’s Church. They are about to make the trip back to North Dakota. Baker and Edna are about to depart for North Carolina. The two seem destined to separate, but baker tries to talk Pierre into thinking otherwise. Edna and Cammie are off talking to themselves at the same time, a short distance away next to a cluster of trees in the church yard..”We can’t just end it this way, just walk away from the St. John’s Church –permanently renamed now? — and go back to Blue Mountain and live our ordinary lives again. Besides, who wants to go back to work?”You do,” Pierre answered. “You have to.””No, I want to go to Orrin, North Dakota and stay with you and Cammie and eventually get a house of our own there. Edna wants to go too. We can live on the opposite side of town. We won’t bother you much… just the occassional rook night.”

“You wouldn’t like it there. It would be too much for Edna. If she thinks Blue Mountain is cold… Orrin is an ice box! Besides, Edna hates rook as well.”

Blackbird; Tron, baker thinks.

“But we could always go to Orr if Orrin gets too cold,” he then responds. Through your portal.” Baker considers this for a second. “No, I guess that wouldn’t be right, since they’re on the same latitude and thus about equally as cold.”

“And not far enough apart in ordinary time/space to make much of a difference. Longitude-wise, I mean.”

“Yeah, guess so. So Orrin is out?”

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m still developing the portal,” Pierre explains. “It may lead to other places. Perhaps only other towns beginning with “Orr” (he smiles), but, hopefully, more than that. Much more, perhaps.”

“Like Orr, Minnesota? Then we can take a canoe to Gillingham’s Island.”

“That could well be the first expansion,” Pierre ruminates. “I’ll begin to work on that as soon as I get back.”

“But as it stands, Orr is the realm of numbers, 1 through 10, and Orrin is the realm of letters, A through Z. The portal connects the two. You’ve outlined this with your colored chalk.”

“And white chalk for Orr… for the numbers,” Pierre adds.

“Right.” Baker thinks for a moment. “So isn’t this, technically, the same as the Rainbow Sphere… if we, if we combine the two Oz movies, Disney and non-Disney, together into one golden whole?”

“Go back to Blue Mountain and work on your 4orrin1,” Pierre suggests. “That might keep you busy till I figure out more from my end.”

“But isn’t 4orrin1 the same as Orrin? Shouldn’t that be where we stay? For a spell?”

“You put me in a bind, baker. Let’s review.”

“I love reviews,” baker jokes.

“You know now that the hermaphrodite hidden at the beginning of time is found by shifting the traditional church of St. Joseph’s into the non-traditional church of St. John’s. This is not *your* religion but a very ancient one, predating the birth of The Lord. From the perspective of the traditional congregation of St. Joseph’s, it may be seen as monstrous, though, like Lilith or Lily was thought of as a vampire, or the same as Satan, even. But by revealing the true within the artificial, making a specific Jump, and moving the I into the next dimension up, you reveal the former for what it really is: an I- land in the middle of a vast prairie or sea. Of Jasper. Atonal. Not fixed, octave by octave. Pythagorean tuning. More resonant and full. Not bounded or restricted by an artificial set of laws. Freedom. This *had* to take place now.”

“Okay,” baker says.

“In doing so, you also reveal the Rainbow Sphere, or the severed head of St. John’s itself. This comes by making Hill into Mountain, again. Adding a comma, or a letter.”

“Right.”

“You see yourself as Peter Dunne, brother of Zona Gale.”

“Suppose so, Pierre.”

“The death of Peter Dunne is the same as the death of the traditional, the bound.”

“The body binds us to Terra Firma.”

“What we are talking about here is not possible at this time.”

“Are we talking about the move to Orrin, North Dakota, again?” baker asks. “I don’t…”

“You will have to incarnate as a specific entity. You will not survive otherwise. Both of you will have to do this.”

“What you are saying is that the I-land is the true monster. That’s the thing that swallows and consumes.”

“Yet you have to stay within its realm right now.”

“We don’t know how to balance yet. I will not worship…”

“You don’t have to,” Pierre interrupts, predicting what baker will say again. “You don’t need traditional religion. The religion of Adam and Eve. You have to balance land *and* water; masculine and feminine.”

“Why can’t we do it at this time.”

“You must go back to work!”

“Arrrrrghhhhh!!!” baker says, and wakes up and goes back to sleep.

END OF PARADOX II: THE CHANCELING

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.