62

Muddled and Muddy Going

They looked like Cheerios, but…the taste. Once, as a preschooler, Lottica had been tempted to taste a big piece of green chalk. It reminded her of a Popsicle. Well, that was how the breakfast cereal in her bowl tasted: like green chalk.

“Eat," her grandmother encouraged. "Much to do. We leave soon soon."

Lottica swallowed hard and tried to concentrate on something other than the mealy texture in her mouth. The restless thoughts that’d kept up her up last night wouldn’t go away. Had that big explosion been caused by Beilla? Had it been intentional or a terrible accident? Would even a madman like Beilla go out in such a storm to blow something up?

When she finally fell asleep last night, she’d had almost a fever dream. Hawk and Raven fighting. The Kareima and Fareima firing laser light. There’d been no winner. Just an explosion of light that enveloped her and Nick and her parents as they reached out to her. The image with her, even as she tried to finish her chalky cereal.

Nick joined her at the table. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like a baby. In a storm. Wondering if she’ll ever see her parents again. You?”

“Pretty much the same. You hear those explosions?”

Lottica nodded. “That can’t be good. Beilla’s obviously got a plan and he’s determined. Crazy determined.”

“So, am I. To find Mom and Dad.”

“But what’s our plan?”

“Heidein said we’ll set out soon and hike to the lake where he and Beilla spent time as children exploring for the Astreima. From there, Heidein thinks we’ll be able to pick up their trail,” Nick explained.

“What about the missing piece Heidein found in Beilla’s plane? The image of the children. Did it give you any ideas?”

Nick shrugged. “Nothing that makes sense right now. You?”

Lottica had lots of ideas about the lifestones and the two children. It was all there. But what did it mean? Loss. Light. Life. Love.

Lottica felt close to understanding. So close. It almost made her forget the chalky taste of the breakfast cereal. Until Heidein came into the cabin barking that it was time to set out. She scrambled to put on boots and grab her backpack as she and the rest of the family geared up for the long trek up Mount Breima.

The going at first was fine, but as they got up the trail, the rain from the storm had turned parts of the track were thick with mud that slurped at their boots as if trying to eat them. They had to carefully watch their footing to avoid catching a snag, stumbling on larger rocks, or simply slipping in the muddier patches.

Occasionally, they managed a look at their pristine surroundings and appreciate the mountain’s splendor in the fresh morning sunlight. But for the most part, they had to concentrate on each plodding footstep.

Nick finally called to Heidein a few steps ahead of him. “Any idea when we’re going to get out of this goo?”

Heidein turned to answer, “In a few hundred meters, the trail widens, and there is better drainage. It should be less muddy.”

Nick remained skeptical. A skepticism still rooted in their current plan of action. He, as much as anyone, wanted to find his parents and get even with Beilla. He just wasn't sure how they were going to do that. Beilla and Abzeig had guns and explosives. That seemed more than a match for three senior citizens and two adolescents.

And the statue of Hawk.

Nick had watched Heidein place it in his backpack. That seemed a bit extreme. It weighed a good twenty-five pounds. Yes, Hawk's eyes were part of the Kareima, but if Heidein already had a solid idea of where Beilla had taken his parents, why bother with the cumbersome weight and bulk of the statue? When Nick commented on that to Heidein, he cryptically replied, “Hawk is heavy, but Hawk knows."

Heidein had also carefully rewrapped the mysterious stained glass pane and asked Nick to carry it in his pack. That was another reason Nick tried to be so careful with his footing as they hiked up the trail. Like Lottica, he wanted to know what the missing piece meant. The whole picture. That was why he liked science: to get the whole picture. The children in the image were not whole. Nick had to know what was missing, at the heart of all this.

At that moment, though, Nick’s concentration on the trail was sorely missing. He stepped on a slippery stone, lost his balance and teetered precariously backwards. Just as suddenly, his fall was stopped by a hand pushing on his backpack.

"Careful, Nick. Get your head out of the stars," Lottica teased him.

He looked back at his sister, thinking about the irony in her statement. She was the queen of stargazing. He was the prince of primordial ooze. Looking outward versus looking inward. Astronomy versus anatomy.

Maybe in trying to understand the mysteries of the lifestones, he needed to expand his horizon, delving even deeper into the anatomy of reality. Of being.

Completeness. Wholeness. Totality.

The heart of being.

Nick figured he’d have to think more about that when his feet got on firmer ground.