~ Help Wanted ~

~ Help Wanted ~

Cap’n Dick sat in his living room on a kitchen chair turned backwards, his mighty arms crossed on the top of the seat back. To his right behind his gargantuan shoulders and belly, his old pal Wishy sat on a couch from the sixties. The couch was still pristine because it had been preserved with a thick plastic cover for the last fifty years. To Cap’n Dick’s left, kicked back in an old and tattered recliner sat Mr. Willie. Thought by many to be the oldest man in Deep Creek, he was even older than Cap’n Dick’s daddy, Beauregard or Borey as Dick and his friends called him. They were watching their favorite show on TV, The Weather Channel. All three wore short sleeve, button up cotton shirts exposing a darkish raised burn scar in the shape of an anchor on the inside of their left forearm. Cap’n Dick’s wife Eva came from the kitchen in her flowered apron carrying three tea glasses full of vodka with two hands. She went to Mr. Willie first. “Take one, Willie.”

Mr. Willie took one, sniffed twice and said, “Thanks, Miss Eva.”

She handed one to Wishy and the last one to her husband. “You boys staying to eat?” She knew they would. They always did.

“If’n you don’t mind, Miss Eva,” said Wishy politely. Mr. Willie just sniffed and nodded yes.

“What’s for supper?” Cap’n Dick asked.

“Well, I’m cutting up a chicken to fry and there’s a pot roast in the oven.” She crossed her arms for the inevitable smart remark.

“I want ham.”

“I guess you’ll eat what I fix you.” She returned to the kitchen.

Wishy remarked, “That Miss Eva is a spitfire. You’re a lucky man Cap’n Dick.”

“Then take her home with ya, Wishy.”

Eva’s voice came from the kitchen. “I just might go today, Wishy.”

“Ce-he-he,” was Wishy’s high pitched laugh.

Eva was putting the chicken pieces in the sink to soak in salt water when the landline hanging on the kitchen wall rang. “Eva, you gonna get that?” Yelled Cap’n Dick from the living room.

“Jesus Christ, Dick! It’s only rang one time.” After wiping her hands with the towel, it rang again as she picked it up.

He stifled a laugh. “It’s still ringing, Eva!”

Eva put the receiver against her chest. “Shut up, Fool!” Eva came out of the kitchen and offered the phone to Cap’n Dick. “It’s that pushy Indian girl we met who’s friends with Jimmy and Debbie. She wants to talk to you.” His face lit up as he put the phone to his ear. “You ole fart,” she mumbled as she walked back into the kitchen.

He ignored her. “Hey Shewuma, you pretty thing. I knew you’d call me eventually.” Then his face turned serious. Wishy muted the TV and Mr. Willie sat upright in the recliner. “Drachonians, you say?” A few minutes later he said, “Crystal Skulls, huh?” Eva left the kitchen and went to the back bedroom. “I don’t know exactly but you can count on us for at least a hundred.” The last thing he did was give her the number to Eva’s cell phone. Cap’n Dick hung up and stood, spinning the chair around and putting it aside. “Ya’ll hear that?” They both nodded.

Wishy got up from the couch. “I’ll get the Roe boys and Odell and meet you at the marina.” He grabbed his hat and left.

Mr. Willie sniffed twice and said, “I’ll pick up Borey and get the trailer.” He put on his hat and followed Wishy out.

Cap’n Dick put the phone back in the kitchen and went to the hallway. “Eeevaa!” he yelled to the back of the house. Then he went for his fedora hanging on the coat rack by the front door. “EVA!” he yelled again. She came around the corner in a floor length flowing white robe with a yellow sash and a hood that hung down in the back. A tarnished old skeleton key hung around her neck on a silver chain.

She looked annoyed. “Here I am. Why are you always hollering?”

“You got everything?”

Eva held up a purse that resembled a small suitcase. “Of course.”

“You got the cellular phone I got you from the Costco?”

“Yes,” she said, rolling her eyes. “And it’s a cell from Costco, not the Costco.”

“You got vodka?” She pulled a bottle of Smirnoff half out of her purse, then dropped it back in. “Well then, let’s go.” He said it as if she was holding them up. “We only have a couple hours.”

“If you’re waiting on me, you’re backing up.” She was feeling sassy. As she walked by, Cap’n Dick gave her ass a resounding slap. She jumped a little. Thinking he couldn’t see it, she smiled. But he saw it.

**********

Shewuma stood at the back door of the log built mega-structure on David E’s cell phone, watching Wisty walking purposefully into the woods. David E. eased up beside her as she hung up from the call with Cap’n Dick. “We have a lot more fighters now. I told Cap’n Dick about the Drach Horde and Jimmy’s predicament, convinced him it was in the Deep Creek Hybrids best interests to help us.”

“Good. Were gonna need all the soldiers we can get.” He was intensely watching Wisty leave.

“Where’s she going D.E.?”

“She wouldn’t say. I saw her get something out of her bag and now she’s heading for God knows where.”

“Is it Witch related?”

“Got no idea. I’m a little worried about her going out there alone.”

Wu opened the back door. “Tippycat, Molly, go with Wisty and look out for her.” The Maine Coon and the Doberman took off across the yard after her.

David E. felt a little better. “Thanks, Wu.”

Shewuma’s Kachina warriors were hanging out and talking in the great room. Many were sitting cross-legged on the floor applying war paint. Others just waited quietly. The lull before the storm. The upcoming battle could change the course of history. It sat like a weight on the back of their minds. Corrine and Daniel were watching a news channel on the big screen. Corrine loved that political stuff. Shewuma was glad they were distracted. Shewuma could smell a bad case of nerves ever since Corrine’s declaration that she and Daniel would fight. Their willingness as Humans, to involve themselves in a Hybrid/Alien war was no doubt the motivation for Dermott to also insist on going. Shewuma was relieved she was able to talk him out of it. She didn’t want to have forbid him outright. That could be awkward. Even if he could fight worth a damn, which she doubted, he was in no shape to exert himself after the psychic assassination attempt on his life earlier that morning. No, she was quite content for him to stay home and remote view their progress while the animals watched over him.

The Eagle and Luce sat down across from Shewuma at the dining room table. At 400 years plus, Eagle was her oldest and most experienced Kachina Warrior. Only 39 years old, Luce was the youngest, just recently having graduated from the 35 years of rigorous training required of a Hopi Star Child. “Everything is as ready as we can get it until the ship arrives, Chieftess,” said Luce.

Shewuma put her elbows on the table and leaned toward them. “Good job, Luce. Eagle, are you sure you’re up to this? You’ve had quite a day so far.”

“You’re funny White Bird,” was all he said.

“I have never fought in the Astral World, Chieftess. Was it epic?” Luce asked Shewuma.

“Oh yes, Little One. It was definitely epic. The Eagle and White Bird fought side by side against an army of demons from the depths of Hell to save Dermott and Wisty. The Eagle was magnificent!”

Gazing at him, Luce murmured with soft eyes, “Wow. I know he was.” The Eagle and Wu both caught the scent as Luce’s body revealed her feelings. Without looking away from his face, Luce made a request to the Chieftess. “May I be the one to present the account to the Tribal Council for recording in the histories.”

“Of course, Luce.”

The Eagle was looking at Luce, surprised but interested. Shewuma suddenly felt like a voyeur. Getting up from the table she said, “See you guys later.”

The Eagle took Luce’s hand. Engrossed in each other, they both nodded.

Through the back door Shewuma eyed the path to the woods. She decided Wisty had been gone long enough. The transport ship would be arriving soon and there was still much strategy to discuss. “I’m going out!” Shewuma called to no one in particular. She headed into the woods calling, “NICKAAY!” The big beagle joined her a few steps later. She rubbed his head. “Good boy. Let’s find Wisty. Go find Wisty.” He howled with delight and the hunt was on.

**********

Wisty had veered off the path and wandered through the woods long enough. She stopped to take an assessment. It took a few seconds to realize she was utterly and completely lost. Speaking to the Tippycat and Molly she said, “Either of you guys seen a Sasquatch?” Tippy flicked his tail and Molly sat her haunches down. “Shewuma sent you, didn’t she? She's mad at me right now and still she’s looking out for me.” She sighed heavily. Two days ago Wisty thought Bigfoot sightings were probably bullshit. At best a hoax. Then she and Shewuma were confronted by one in this very forest. The memory still gave her goose bumps. Shewuma obviously knew him, addressed him as The Great Guardian and they lapsed into her Native, Hopi language leaving the conversation’s content a mystery. He wasn’t a myth or a lumbering beast but a majestic creature, dignified and articulate. Though he did smell awful.

Oddly, he gave Wisty a gamy brown hair plucked from his chest, then bowed his head to Shewuma and just seemed to vanish. Wisty shoved it in her pocket and forgot about it. Wu would not offer any explanation but to say he had confirmed her suspicions about the Drachonian Horde.

Finding people was an innate skill of all Witches. If she possessed the DNA of anyone or anything, Bigfoot included, there was no way in the world it could hide from her. Well, that chest hair from the Sasquatch was DNA. So why couldn’t she find him? Then it hit her. “He’s not in this world, kids.” She took off her coat, spread it on the ground and pulled up her dress enough to sit cross-legged on top of it. It was cold but she figured this wouldn’t take too long. Tippycat lay in front and Molly curled up behind her, against her back. Wisty closed her eyes and began deep rhythmic breathing. She visualized being detached and seeing herself from above. Opening her eyes, she was floating in the trees and saw her physical body sitting below sandwiched by the kids. Molly was bored but Tippycat amazingly was watching her astral form with interest. She scoffed once when a powerful Wizard told her that cats exist on a different level of consciousness than all other creatures. She owed him an apology. Visualizing the Sasquatch, she crossed over to an astral plane of vivid, starkly contrasting colors consuming the landscape. She felt the hair follicle in her hand being drawn to its host. Like her, it seemed confused as to his direction. Where the hell was he? Could it be he didn’t want to be found? Then an idea occurred to her. “Take me to the Akashic Records,” And she was there. The Akashic Records were the accumulation of all knowledge that ever existed: past, present, and future. It was written that if your intent was pure, any question would be answered. Wisty stood in a small hazy room in front of an ornate lectern made of Blue Quartz Crystal. The base was a carved replica of the Sphinx. On it, an ancient leather-bound book lay open showing two blank pages. “Can you help me?” Wisty said in her astral voice. Symbols appeared one after another across the pages. Wisty recognized them as hieroglyphics and with considerable glee realized she could decipher them.

It read, “We help all souls who venture here with righteous intentions.” The pages were blank once again.

“He gave me this.” But instead of a smelly brown hair, a shiny tinsel-like strand danced in her hand. But there was no response from the book. Of course. It wasn’t a question. “How can I find the soul of this Sasquatch in the Astral World?”

“Say his name,” was the answer.

“What if I don’t know his name?”

“Then you cannot say it.”

She needed to be more precise. “Do you know his name?”

“Yes.”

“Will you tell me his name?”

“Custos.”

Wisty repeated it. “Custos,” And whoosh, she was swept away like a feather on the wind. She found herself inside a building with walls and columns made of highly polished marble. There was no ceiling or roof, just darkness that Wisty felt extended into the cosmos. The vista was quite intoxicating. The marble itself seemed alive. White stone sparkled and sang music of a long-forgotten language, while the blue/black veins running through it flickered and whirled about even as they remained in place. Wisty focused her attention to scan the room. At the center was a luminous circle so brilliant that the light emanating from it caused Wisty pain and she looked away. It wasn’t pain in her eyes but pain in her spirit, pain in her soul. It was sacred holy light too pure for a human to endure. Since it was impossible to look at it directly, she hung her head and used her peripheral vision to catch glimpses intermittently. It became too heavy of a burden and she turned away. But from what she could gather there were seven beings standing in a circle. They had to be Mahatmas, once human souls that had transcended after death to a highly evolved state of existence. She must have elevated beyond Devachan to be so close to Nirvana. It was too far beyond where her level of consciousness should be. She could feel the lower realms tugging at her to return. She fought to stay because she was pretty sure she saw Custos standing in the middle of that circle. Then Wisty saw a being in a white robe approaching her. She suddenly felt relaxed and comfortable. It was a woman. Her hair was a short blonde bob and she was pretty in a tomboyish way. Radiating charm and optimism, she took Wisty’s hand joyously. Turning her head slightly to either side revealed illusionary horns and big round eyes. It wasn’t scary, though. It seemed natural. “Why do you have horns?” Wisty asked.

“Oh, Wisty. That is a reflection of your spirit.”

“Horny?”

The woman laughed. “No, silly. Aries the Ram.”

“Oh, okay. So why do I want to call you Gigi?”

“That’s my name. Don’t wear it out.” Her voice was bubbly and appealing and she sounded familiar. “Wisty, Dear. It’s Gigi, your spirit guide.”

“I know you?”

“Remember when you were four and fell in the creek and you couldn’t swim? That old woman pulled you out. And in 2002 when your chopper went down, you walked away without a scratch?”

Wisty remembered the incidents well. In both cases she expected to die. “You’re saying that was you?”

“Of course, Honey. I was at Malachi’s when that plasma rifle cut your hand off.”

“Thanks a lot,” said Wisty sarcastically.

“Hey, I bumped him. He was aiming at your head. Besides, if you had kept your hand everything would be different. It was a karmic thing anyway. Those dark magiks have consequences. We wouldn’t want you to go south, now would we? So, what’s up?”

“What do you mean go south?” Gigi just smiled, reticent. Wisty held up the Sasquatch hair, which was now a tiny golden snake writhing in her hand. “I desperately need to talk to Custos over there.” She pointed at the circle and winced as she caught a glimpse of the sacred light.

“Oh, I get it. You want him to help you try and save your doomed friends.”

Wisty was instantly stressed. “Doomed? They’re doomed?”

“No, of course not, Dear. How about ill-fated or cursed? Let’s just say they’re unlucky. Let me see what I can do for you. I’ll be right back.” Gigi faded away and returned almost instantly. “Custos said he’ll do everything in his power to help you.”

“But I really need to talk to him.”

“No,” insisted Gigi. “You have to get back to your physical world. The Hopi Chieftess is searching for you.”

Wisty thought she heard her name on the wind. Then she opened her eyes and was back in her body. Shewuma was yelling, “Wissstyyy,” from deep in the woods. Nicky the beagle stood looking at her, wagging his tail. He raised his head, opened his throat and let go with a booming yodel of a howl.

Wu came crashing through the brush. “Wisty, are you okay? I could smell you, but I couldn’t find you. Here. You’re shivering.” She helped Wisty on with her coat and rubbed her shoulders and arms to warm her up.

Wisty laughed and said, “It’s a spell I use so people can’t stalk me.”

“It works. I was really worried.”

“I think I got us some help. The Sasquatch.”

“No shit! That’s great! I got Creekers.”

“Creekers?”

“Yes. Hybrid Warriors of the Deep Creek Callan Clan. Jimmy’s kin.” Then Wu paused and cocked her head, listening. The dogs began to whine uncomfortably. Tippycat bolted into the woods.

“What is it? What do you hear, Shewuma?”

“I think our transportation is here. Let’s go.”

**********