Chapter 3 - "Camp Magic Mountain"

1.  

          Spring turns itself into the first days of summer.  As the days lengthen, Ian and I spend evenings wandering through the woods and down to Bison Creek, the little stream that runs across the back of our property.  We don’t see anything strange or magical, except the everyday magic of butterflies fluttering between bright flowers scattered in the rich carpets of grass.

          I’m so glad there are no signs of strangers showing up unexpectedly, especially in my bedroom.  Dad doesn’t say anything about that day.  I’m sure he doesn’t want Mom or Ian to know about our strange visitor.  For myself, I just keep hoping it was all a dream.

          Then finally it’s the last day of school.  I feel so free that I want to fly.  A whole summer ahead of us, just for Ian and me to share. 

          As I’m walking home from school, Ali calls to me. She’s as close as any friend I’ve ever had, but that doesn’t mean we spend all our time together.  She often seems to have a cluster of boys hanging around her.  Ian is still the one I feel closest to.  But now she’s waving and calling to me.

          “Wait up, Cinda.  I’m so glad school is over, aren’t you?”  She seems excited as she catches up with me.  “What are you doing this summer?”

          This takes me by surprise.  She doesn’t often have much interest in what I’m doing.  She’s usually more focused on herself.  “Well, Ian and I are hoping our dad will take us camping,” I mutter, not able to think of anything else.

          “I’m going to Camp Magic Mountain.  I always go there.  It’s really neat.  In fact, that’s why I came over.  Do you want to go with me?”

          “Me?  Go to camp?”  I can’t believe she’s asking me.  “My parents probably won’t let me,” I sigh.

          “But my mother’s already talked to yours,” she laughs.  “They’ve gotten to be friends this year, you know.”

          “I guess I hadn’t noticed.  Are you sure?”

          “Just ask your mom,” she smiles.  “I’ve got to go now.  See you later.”  Then she’s off, walking quickly toward Tomal, the cutest boy in our class.

          When they’re out of sight around the next street corner, I’m still shaking my head.  Is this all a dream?  Or is she playing a joke on me?

          But as I walk into our back door, Mom has such a big grin on her face that I know something is up.  “I saw you talking to Ali down the street,” she smiles.  “I bet she let the cat out of the bag, didn’t she?”

          “What?  Is it really true then about Camp Magic Mountain?”

          “Yes, I’ve already talked to Dad, too.  We both think it’s a great idea, if you want to go, of course.”

          Now I can hardly hear her words for the excitement ringing in my ears.  It really does seem like a dream.  Then a sudden pain stabs through this beautiful cloud like a bolt of lightning.

          “But what about Ian?  Won’t his feelings be hurt?”

          She reaches over and pats my shoulder.  “He’ll be here when you get back.  It’s only two weeks.  There will be lots of summer afterwards, from Fourth of July on.  I’m glad you’re so thoughtful of your little brother, but you need to spend time with kids your own age, too.”

          “Have you told him yet, Mom?”

          “No, I figured you’d want to.”

          By now I’m having a hard time swallowing a lump in my throat.  Just then, Ian comes bursting through the back door.  “What’s the matter?  Is something wrong?” 

          Already he can read my thoughts on my face.

          “Well, not really.”  I glance at Mom and see her nod at me in a way that’s supposed to be encouraging.  “I’m going to camp with Ali for two weeks in June, to Camp Magic Mountain.”

          “Wow, that’s so cool.”  His response is almost immediate.  “That will be so much fun, really going camping.”

          “But you won’t be there with me, Ian.”

          Still, his eyes keep on dancing in a strange way.  “You can tell me about it when you get back.  We can put up the umbrella tent in the backyard, and you can tell me all kinds of real camping stories.”

          I let out a long deep breath that I’ve been holding without realizing it.  How can one so young understand so well?  My heart feels much lighter now, and I give him a big hug.

          “Someday, when I’m older, I’ll get to go to camp, too,” he smiles.

          Mom has a proud look in her eyes.  As I gaze over at her, I can tell she’s in awe, too.  Ian is a very unusual little boy.

          “Come on, Cinda,” he grabs my hand.  “Let’s go figure out what you need to pack.”

          I can hear Mom’s chuckle as he pulls me down the hall.  Glancing over at her, I shrug and see her smile back.

          As we go to my room, he says softly, “Camp Magic Mountain.  I wonder if it really is magic.”

          “Maybe,” I grin back at him.

          Thanks to him, I’m all packed and ready a whole week early.

          The best part, though, is I don’t have to worry about some GAP-crosser showing up to take me away.

***

          The days drag until it’s finally time to go to the camp.  Ali doesn’t call me or anything so I guess she’s busy with her friends, especially Tomal.  But it doesn’t matter.  I need to spend as much time as I can with Ian. 

          Finally, the day to catch the coach arrives.  Camp Magic Mountain is up in the Front Range beyond Denver, so the ride will take us a few hours.  I come prepared with my Mini-tab to read and pass the time.  But I soon get caught up in watching the scenery pass outside the windows, and the tablet gets left in my totebag.

          For the first hour of the trip, we’re moving through the rolling grasslands of the western Great Plains.  I remember from Vids I’ve seen how this land used to stretch empty for miles, dotted with only an occasional farmhouse or windmill.  Now it’s covered with tall apartments and offices, especially along the roadways.  They begin to spring up more frequently as we get closer to the city, lining the roadsides like stark sentinels of what my dad calls ‘progress.’  I’ve often heard the irony ring in his voice as he adds, “The tallest things out here used to be grain elevators, but the few of those left have been turned into tourist shops.”  

          I keep searching the western horizon for a glimpse of the mountains, but the haze over the city must be thick today.  I don’t see even a shadowy outline until we’re almost into the outskirts of Denver.

          As we pull out of the city again and begin the climb into the first foothills, I can see Long’s Peak to the north.  Its twin summit and sheer diamond face make it the most distinctive shape on the horizon.  To its left is the gentler slope of Mt. Audubon, and further south the more jagged Indian Peaks.  Ian has memorized the names of these Front Range mountains, but I can’t seem to remember them all.

          When the coach pulls into a rest area for a stretch break, Ali joins me as we step down onto the pavement.  She’s been riding in the back with friends, but I need to sit near the front.  The motion in the back tends to make me nauseous.

          “See the big peak in the middle, Cinda?  That’s the Magic Mountain.  The camp is near the base, so you can see it from anyplace.”

          I see she’s pointing to Mount Audubon.  “Cool,” I say.  “I’ve always liked that mountain.  It looks like one I could actually climb.”

          “Don’t worry, we will.  The overnight climb is a regular part of the second week.”

          I smile.  Getting to actually climb one of the Front Range peaks is something I’ve always wanted to do.

          Once we’re back on the coach, the road climbs more steeply as it winds into the mountains.   My stomach begins to get queasy, and I have to close my eyes.  The girl I’ve been sitting with since the last stop must notice because she reaches over and opens the window beside her.

          “Ah, smell the mountain air,” she smiles.

          I take a small sniff and do detect the scent of evergreens.  We must have finally gotten above the city’s haze.  Again, I can look out at the scenery without feeling like I’m about to throw up.

          “Wow, there really are trees here,” I say to her.  “What’s your name?  I’m Cinda.”

          “Leah,” she smiles.  “Is this your first time to camp?”

          “Yeah, and my first time in the mountains for a long time.  My mom brought us here some when we were little.”

          “You have a brother or sister?”

          “Just one little brother, Ian.”

          “I’m an only child,” she adds.

          We stop talking for a bit as we watch the buildings and trees slide by our window.  The structures here aren’t as tall as the ones in the city.  Most of them look like lodges or condos where people can stay for a visit to the mountains.

          “This used to be mostly forest,” sighs Leah.  “Now it’s getting all built up for the vacationers.”

          “Have you been here a lot?”

          “I’ve been coming to camp up here since I was six.”

          “This is my first time.  I recently turned thirteen.”

          “Me, too!”  Her warm smile seems genuine.  “Here, pinkie shake.  We’re both officially teenagers.”  She reaches up her right hand and grabs the little finger of mine with hers.  “Do you know what cabin you’re in?”

          “Not yet.  I just know I’m with my friend Ali.  She’s in the back of the coach.”

          “I hope we’re in the same one, Cinda.”

          “Me too.”

***

          When the coach pulls into the small parking lot beside the sign saying ‘Camp Magic Mountain’, I’m looking all around, trying to take everything in at once.  Just beyond the space where the coach parks, a small lake sparkles in the sunlight.  Reflected in its water I can see a shimmering version of Mount Audubon.

          “That’s beautiful,” I say to Leah as we step off the coach.  “I feel like I want to fly.”

          “You’re like a little kid with a new toy,” she laughs.

          “I think I am,” I smile back.  Then I spin around on the gravel, holding my arms out like a bird’s wings.

          “Well, there it is—the Magic Mountain,” Ali’s voice says.  “Looks like you can feel the magic already.”

          “Oh, hi Ali.  This is Leah.”

          “Hi Leah.  Did I see you here last year?”  There’s a tension in Ali’s voice which takes me by surprise.

          “Most likely.  I’ve been coming here for six years,” Leah responds.

          “Me too.”  I see Ali look down and wonder if she’s embarrassed she’s never noticed Leah before. 

          “I’m not always here at this first session,” Leah adds, and Ali looks up.  But I can see a hint of anger in her face.

          “That’s probably why I didn’t recognize you.”  I can tell Ali is annoyed.  Then she turns to me.  “So I see you’ve found a new friend, Cinda.”

The tone of her voice has me worried that she resents my hanging out with Leah.  And I get a sinking feeling in my stomach.  I don’t want to have to choose between them.

          It turns out we are all in Cabin Nine.  Ali squeals with delight at the news and hugs me at once, ignoring Leah.

          “It’s right up that path,” says the woman with the cabin list.  “The last one on the left, overlooking the lake.”

          “Cool,” says Leah.  I nod with her.

          Then we get our bags and pull them up the narrow trail to the cabin.  “I think I packed too much, as usual,” Ali sighs.  “This bag gets heavier as I go.”

          When we finally reach Cabin Nine, we’re greeted by a smiling young woman.  “Hi, I’m Jeanine, your cabin counselor.”

          We introduce ourselves and she tells us to go ahead and pick which bunk we want to sleep in.  I’m excited at the idea of being on a top bunk, so I claim the one above Ali.  She seems fine with this.  It isn’t until later I realize being right below me means it’s easier for her to have conversations without me--since we can’t see each other when we’re actually in our beds. 

Leah is on the top bunk across from me.  Right away she lies down and looks up at the wood-beamed ceiling above us.  “Good thing they have these bunks lined up right,” she chuckles.  “Last year there was a beam right across my bunk, and when I sat up I always hit my head on it.”

          By now there’s a girl on every bunk, and Jeanine is sitting on the lower one closest to the door.  “Welcome to Camp Magic Mountain, girls.  There are only a few rules to remember.  You must turn off your smart phones and tablets for your entire time here.”

          I hear some groans, but I’m not worried.  Ali has already warned me about this.  I’m actually looking forward to it.

          “Also, please take your watches off.  We aren’t going to worry about time here.  We want to live by the sun, and there are bells to tell us when meals and other activities are.”

          “That means the staff has watches,” Leah mouths to me from across the aisle.

          I merely shrug.

          Just then a loud bell starts to ring.  It sounds really big, like some I’ve heard on Vids about the old West.  “There’s the bell for lunch,” says Jeanine.  “Two rings for meals.  Three rings for the beginning of an activity, and four means the end.  One ring is quiet time.  If it keeps on ringing, this means an emergency and everyone is to report to the flagpole.”

          “Where’s the flagpole?” someone asks.

          “Right in front of the dining hall.  Come on, let’s head for lunch and I’ll show you.”

          The dining hall is a weathered wood building with a beamed ceiling and wooden plank floors.  I enjoy the smell of warm food and old wood that greets me as I walk in.  I feel like I’ve gone back to a simpler time and place—like a time-traveler.  This reminds me of Lexi’s visit, and for an instant, my heart pounds.  But I take a deep breath and put it out of my mind.  Surely she can’t find me all the way up here.

          Before Jeanine lets us sit at the table labeled ‘Cabin Nine’, we all stand beside our chairs.  A leader near the front of the room helps us sing a song thanking God for the food.

          “That’s an old song,” Leah murmurs to me.  “I hear they’ve been using the same one for over forty years.  My mom says she learned it here way back then.”

          As I nod to Leah, Ali’s giving me an angry look again, but I can’t think of anything to do about it.  It’s her problem, not mine.

          At last Jeanine seats us at the long wooden table.  Its benches are attached to it, so there’s no way to move closer or farther from the table.  “Be sure not to put your elbows on the table,” Leah whispers to me.

          “Why?”

          “Because they’ll sing the old song, ‘Mable, Mable, strong and able get your elbows off the table’,” Ali says in a mocking voice.

          Jeanine starts the first plate of food around the table, and soon we are too busy eating to talk.

         

***

          The first week of camp flies by, and soon we’re setting out with our counselor on the climb up Mt. Audubon.  She keeps insisting on calling it Magic Mountain, and even though I know this is just made up, I go along with it.  As we begin hiking up the steepening trail, my back is already tired from carrying a pack.  I’m not going to be the first to complain though. 

          I try to keep myself occupied looking at the scenery.  To the north, Long’s Peak is shining in the high-altitude sun.  I’ve always loved to look at Long’s and wonder what the view looks like from its top.  It’s a technical climb, needing ropes and special equipment, from the east side up the face of the ‘Diamond’, and a long grueling hike from its back side.  Dad has told me this much.  And I know it’s a ‘Fourteener’, one of the dozens of peaks in the Colorado Rockies that are over fourteen thousand feet in elevation.

          Nowadays people are supposed to give elevations in meters, but the name Fourteeners has stuck for these highest Colorado peaks, and I’m glad.

          Only two Fourteeners are accessible by road, Pike’s Peak and Mount Evans.  Both lie just to the south of us as we climb Audubon.  Pike’s is lost in city haze right now, but the snows of Evans can be seen rising beyond Indian Peaks.  I remember Mom driving us up to the top of Pike’s Peak once.  But it’s unlikely I’ll ever get to climb a Fourteener, because most of them are technical climbs like Long’s.  Still, I’m happy to be climbing Audubon.  On clear days, we can see it from our house, all thirteen thousand feet of it, so it’s almost high enough to be a Fourteener.

          We set up our tent camp in a bowl slightly below the summit, where we’ll have shelter from the wind.  As we eat our lunch, the sun grows quite warm.

          “I think we should go to the top now,” says Jeanine.  “Never know what the weather will do in ten minutes.”

          Someone laughs, “That’s the mountains.  Don’t like the weather?  Wait five minutes, and it’ll change.”

          “Not always for the better, though,” adds Jeanine.

          Sure enough, as we continue up the trail toward the summit, clouds begin to cover the sun and the wind picks up.  Now I find I need to put my hoodie back over my short-sleeved shirt.  I’m so glad we made camp, so I don’t have to carry my full pack now, especially as the trail begins to make switchbacks up the northeastern face.

          As we continue climbing, I begin getting light-headed from the high altitude.  I need to stop and catch my breath often.  Leah is just in front of me, and I’m thankful to see her stop and glance back at me.  Ali is up ahead with two other girls and Jeanine.  As usual, she’s not paying much attention to me.  She’s basically ignored me since the first day of camp, and there’s nothing I can do about it since I don’t want to hurt Leah’s feelings.  I just wish Ali wasn’t so possessive.

          When we finally reach the top, wind is whipping my hair in all directions, but the sun has peeked out again.  “Wow!” I say, looking toward Leah.

          She nods and smiles, “Worth it?”

          “For sure,” I grin.  “This is like a whole new world up here.”

          We’re above timberline so there aren’t any trees--only stunted shrubby bushes creeping along the ground, short grasses waving in the wind, and tiny flowering plants clinging to rocks and hiding in the clefts.

          Leah motions for me to sit next to her on a bare rock, but it’s not totally bare, I see as I sit down.  Lichens and moss in many shades of green, gray, orange, and brown are growing so flat against the rock that they seem like part of it.

          We just sit in silence looking east toward the plains that come up against the Front Range here.  Dozens of towns and a patchwork of roads and buildings seem to stretch on forever from here.  I’ve looked at the mountains from down there, but this is the first time I remember seeing the view in reverse.

          “Do you ever wonder what all those people are doing down there?” I ask Leah.

          “Sometimes.  I guess they’re just trying to live, like us.”

          “Yeah, buying groceries and going to school.”

          “Or working at jobs.”

          “Like my dad,” I say.  “He works down there somewhere in Denver.  What about yours?”

          “I don’t know,” she replies.  “My folks are divorced, and I don’t see Dad except on holidays.”

          “Oh, I’m sorry.”  I feel foolish.  Lots of people’s parents aren’t together.  I should have thought of that.

          “Hey, no problem,” she smiles.  “What kind of work does your dad do?”

          “He’s in advertising, but he never talks about it much.”

          “What about your mom?”

          “She has a job as a receptionist at a local walk-in clinic.”  I turn and smile back at her, glad she didn’t get her feelings hurt.  “It’s in our town of Eaton, so she doesn’t have to drive as far as Dad does.”

          “That’s cool, Cinda.”

          I wonder what her mother does, but I’m afraid to ask and make another mistake.  She doesn’t say anymore, so I have to let it go.

          Soon Jeanine calls that it’s time to head to our camp.  I’m glad she’s allowed time for us to get back before sunset because I have more trouble going down than I did climbing up.  My feet keep slipping on the lichen-covered rocks and the gravel in the path.  I move slowly, feeling like I’m going to fall right off the mountain.

          Leah notices my caution after we’ve gone through a couple of switchbacks and begins to walk closer to me.   “Don’t worry,” she murmurs.  “You won’t fall, at least not too far.”

          I try to smile and let her take hold of my hand.  “Thanks.”

          By the time we get back to our tent, the clouds have covered the sky around us, and the wind blows fast and cold.  Then drops of rain begin to fall, and we quickly crawl into the tents.  As we sit inside, it grows even darker around us, and then the rain sounds like tiny needles hitting the nylon sides above us.

          “That sounds like ice, Leah.”

          She unzips the door and peeks out.  “Yeah, it’s kind of sleeting.”

          “Will we get stranded up here?”

          “Don’t worry,” she turns back to me.  “It won’t last that long.  It’s just a mountain shower.”

          “Does it always snow up here in June?”

          “Sometimes.  But it’s really just partly frozen rain.  My mom says they call it graupel.  It’ll melt soon.”

          “I hope you’re right.”

          “Are you hungry, Cinda?”

          “Only sort of.”

          “Here, have a protein bar.  That will hold you ‘til dinner.”

          “I hope we can cook dinner with all the snow, rain, or whatever you call it.”

          “Graupel.”

          “Yeah.”

          We sit and eat the protein bars while we wait for the sounds of the falling ice to stop.

I Can't Keep Biting My Tongue Any Longer

After almost two years of a never-ending episode of "The Apprentice" playing out on the 24 hour news channels, I've had it. (How many times have we seen "You're fired!" played out since 2016?)  I must express my opinion, even if no one agrees or even reads it.

How did our country get so divided?  Well, if we look back at our national history through truthful eyes, we see that it always has been.  We started off by building an economy based on slavery and on genocide of the native tribes who were here before us.

In my lifetime, the last great attempt at compromise that I had direct contact with was RARE II, which attempted to bring the pro- and anti-wilderness groups together to try and forge a compromise.  It failed.  As has everything else since.  That was 40 years ago, in 1978.

Now we have all sides in every issue spouting vitriol at each other constantly.  Look that word up and you'll find it implies the idea of throwing acid on an open wound. (Definitely not a healing influence.) That's what our country has come to.

What we need is a great conciliator.  But what we got for choices were two candidates who did nothing but spout vitriol and trumpery.  (Yes, that's a real English word and has been around for hundreds of years.  Look it up in the dictionary.)  I couldn't force myself to vote for either of them, by the way.  And it doesn't look like the next choices will be any better.

The thing that troubles me most is how many of my Christian friends hail Trump as a great savior.  But he exhibits zero Christian values in his personal life, or in how he shouts at people constantly.  He is throwing as much acid as anyone, the very personification of vitriolic.  Oh, once in awhile he says something that sounds Christian, but he definitely is not "walking the walk" even if he occasionally "talks the talk."  (Only very occasionally).  My take on that is he needs to be the center of attention at all times, and he doesn't care if it's negative or positive attention.  It's his narcisistic need.   He's about as Christlike as Attila the Hun or Tywin Lannister and his daughter Cersei. (You can look them up in Game of Thrones.)

What we need in this world is not another Holy War.  In my opinion this "Christian Politicism" has been a BIG MISTAKE.  We've forgotten that Jesus said, "My Kingdom is not of this world." All attempts by humans to establish "The Kingdom of God" on earth have failed.  Just look at the true history.  Do you really think that if Jesus was walking this earth today, he'd be a Republican and speaking English?  I sincerely doubt it.  He'd be speaking up for the downtrodden, not the rich.  No wonder we are the target of a Jihad.  We actually started it back in the Crusades, a thousand years ago.  (I find it interesting that the returning Crusaders inadvertently brought the Bubonic Plague back to Europe with them, and a fourth of the population was wiped out.)

Yes, we need to pray for our country.  But at this point I don't know what to say in prayer.  So I'm just going to leave it in God's hands.  Maybe he's decided it's time to wipe the great American experiment off the map.

Okay.  I've finally said it.  Hate me if you like.  But the prophecies of Jesus called him the "Wonderful Counselor" and "Prince of Peace", "with healing in his wings."  (See the book of Isaiah in the Bible.)   He's the one we need. 

Chapter 2 of Journeys Beyond the Peaks - "A Strange Gift"

1. 2. A Strange Gift

          We don’t talk much about that night—not even with each other.  There’ve been times before when Ian has seen things that seemingly aren’t there.  But it’s the first time I’ve seen what he saw.  I find myself thinking about the power of suggestion, though.  Maybe that’s all it is.  Still, I can’t just shrug it off.  There had been something very strange about that early spring night.

          Spring passes in sunny days and cooling showers.  Finally, it’s my thirteenth birthday, and I hope Dad will keep his promise to answer my questions about this ‘sixth sense’ thing. 

          Mom says I can have one friend sleep over for my birthday since she isn’t much for hosting big parties.  So I take what I can, and invite Ailish to come over on the Friday after my birthday.  Ali and I have been friends ever since fourth grade.

          As I’m getting ready to blow out my candles, I glance over the top of the lighted cake at Dad and see him smiling at me.  Then he suddenly looks down, and I wonder if he’s going to keep his promise or not.  But then I think maybe he just wants to wait until Ali isn’t here.

          I wish I hadn’t thought this because I can’t get Dad off my mind all night, while Ali and I are watching old Vids in our PJ’s and talking.  Watching Vids has been part of my birthday ritual for a long time, but tonight I’m not into it.  Looking over at Ali, I see her trying not to doze off.

          “Maybe we need to watch something else,” she says when she sees me looking at her.

          “Yeah, this Vid is way older than I am.  But I still like the music.”

          “They don’t make them like this anymore,” she admits.  “I mean, this was one of those old movies people used to pay a lot of money to watch in a theater.”

          “How strange—sitting in a big room with a bunch of strangers.”

          “I can’t imagine it, Cinda.”

          “Have your parents ever been to one of those old theaters?”

          “Hey, it’s the year 2077,” she laughs.  “There aren’t any theaters left.”

          “Oh yeah.  I guess it was a waste of space.  Now everything is housing and hydroponics, in the cities at least.”

          “The food has to come from somewhere.  We’re just lucky to live in one of the few farming areas.”

          I just shrug and look back up at my Vid-wall.

          “Maybe we should search The Strat for another Vid,” she says into my silence.

          But instead of replying to this, I hear myself asking, “Ali, do you believe in psychic powers?”

          She turns and stares at me, her face full of surprise.  “Psychic?  You mean like people who can do séances?  My mother doesn’t allow that.”

          Her reply makes me realize I should be careful what I say to her.  I don’t want to get Mom or Dad in trouble.  “Uh well, I’m not sure about that.  It’s just my mom was talking about a sixth sense one day.” 

          “Oh, that!  Like ESP?”

          “I guess so.”

          “Well, I did see a Vid about it once.”

          “Do you still have it?”

          “Sorry, ‘fraid not.  My mom always returns Vids to the Strat as soon as she can.  She’s such a neat freak.”

          “Do you remember any of it?  Can we find it in The Strat?”

          “Well, we can scan for it if you want to.  I think it said some people seem to read minds.”

          “Did it prove they could?”  I’m dying to know more about this.

          “It gave examples of how some people were just extra-good at reading body language, you know, and clues others missed.  So, it seemed like they were reading minds.”

          “Have you ever felt like you could sense someone’s thoughts?”

          She’s laughing softly now.  “So you want me to read your mind, Cinda?”

          Before I can reply she places her hands on top of my head and closes her eyes.

          “I’m getting something,” she says in a mysterious voice.  “Yes, there it is.  You’re very hungry. I can see a picture of food in your mind.  Pizza and chocolate cake.  You’re telling me it’s time to raid the cool box.”

          I look up and see her grinning from ear to ear.  “You silly,” I laugh.  “Anyone could have figured that out.”  But I’m only saying this to hide my disappointment.  There’s a hollow in my stomach that isn’t from hunger, like there’s something I need to find out tonight.  I can tell Ali isn’t going to be any help, and I don’t want to get her mad at me, so I just say, “All right already, this talk about food has made me hungry.   Come on, I’ll race you there.”

          She’s suppressing giggles, but I’m trying not to sigh in frustration as we make our way to the kitchen.

***

Ali and I don’t get any sleep that night, but we do have fun making up fantasy stories about dragons and princes and castles—things we’d never really see, except in Vids of course.

          The next day I feel groggy and tired, like I could just drop off to sleep any minute.  Ali leaves soon after the breakfast Mom makes us—another favorite of mine, pancakes and sausage.  I’m glad she still has these old-fashioned recipes.

          “You look like you’re about to fall asleep on that plate,” Mom says, as she takes it from me.  “Why don’t you get some rest?”

          “But if I sleep now, I might not be able to sleep tonight.”

          “Just take a short nap,” she smiles.

          As I crawl in between the purple sheets on my bed I wonder what Dad is doing today.  But I must have fallen asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, because I don’t remember anything else until I wake to the sun shining in my eyes.

          I put my hand up to make a sunshade because it’s so bright.  Then I realize the light isn’t coming from my window, but from the foot of my bed.

          My heart begins to pound and cold prickles creep up my arms.  “Who’s there?  Dad?”  I try to keep my voice from quavering.

          “Don’t be afraid, Cinda,” says a musical voice.  “I’m Alexia, but you can call me Lexi.”

          “Mom, Dad, where are you?” I shout, shaking all over.  Then I feel a cool hand take mine. 

          “Don’t worry,” her voice comes again.  “I’m not a ghost.”

          But I’m in a panic now.  Throwing back the bedcovers, I leap past the glowing figure, grab the door knob and try to yank it open, but it’s stuck.  Has she locked me in?  Then the door flies open, but as I try to run a body moves into my way.

          “What’s wrong?” says a deep voice.

          “Oh Dad, I’m so glad you’re here.”  I’m barely able to get the words out.

          “What’s wrong?” he says in my ear, pulling me closer to him.

          My mind is beginning to whirl in confusion, and I stagger back to my bed.  The figure is still there and is glowing even brighter than before.

          “Who are you, anyway?” Dad snaps when he sees Lexi.

          “I’m a GAP-crosser.  Don’t you remember me, Evin?”

          “A what?” he snaps.  “And when did I meet you?”

          “Long ago.  You were very young, so perhaps you’ve just forgotten.  You came to help find my Uncle Jael.”

          Dad collapses onto the foot of my bed, and the look on his face has me even more confused and frightened.  “What is it?” I whisper.

          “A GAP-crosser,” he mutters.  “It’s been so long.”

          “I remember when you and your father came to help us.”

          “You knew my father?”  By now Dad sounds like he’s about to cry.           I’m curious, but the

sound of his voice is upsetting, so I edge closer, clinging to his neck, and end up seated across his lap.  Then I hear him say softly, “I should have told you sooner, before they came for you.”

          “Came for me?  Dad, please don’t let something take me away.”

          He can hear the fear in my voice, and rocks me like I’m still a little girl.  “It’s all right, Cinda.  Don’t worry.  No one is going to take you against your will.”

          “Are you sure?  What’s this all about?”

          Lexi moves closer to us, and I can’t help looking at her.  She’s glowing even brighter and her voice gets edgy, “You should have told her sooner, Evin.”

          “She’s still too young,” Dad replies.

          “She’s the same age your Aunt Ginna was.  And your father was only nine years old when we first came for him.”

          Now Dad’s muscles are tensing.  “Who are you to tell me how to raise my own child?”

          “Some things just have to be, Evin.”

          It’s strange to hear her calling Dad by ‘Evin’, even though it is his name.

          “Okay,” he sighs heavily.  “Cinda, like I said when you asked me before, it’s complicated.  It goes all the way back to when my father was a boy, right after he and his sister, Ginna, moved here with their mother.”

          That’s before I was even born. But what does it have to do with me?  I close my eyes again, hoping the strange girl will disappear.

          “You’re first-born, so you need to know.”  Now I hear him trying to keep his voice calm, even though my eyes are closed.

“You have the power to become a GAP-crosser, Cinda,” says Lexi.

          I open my eyes in spite of myself as she begins to speak.  She’s still there.  But this time I’m looking at her more closely, shocked to see how much she looks like me.  The shining light has dimmed enough to reveal she has dark, straight hair—same as mine.  But my eyes are hazel like my Dad’s, and hers are a piercing green that seems to look right through me as she catches my gaze.

          “So, you noticed we look similar,” she smiles.  “I think you may be my forerunner.  That’s why I came to you first.”

          A sick feeling rises into my throat and takes away all the words I might have said.  I sense tension building in Dad, and this makes me even more afraid.

          Pulling myself out of Lexi’s green stare, I look up into Dad’s face.  “Please tell me what all this is about.  I feel like I’ve fallen into a space-invaders Vid.”

          “Yes, it’s time,” says Lexi.

          Dad turns his head slightly and looks directly into my eyes.  “You probably won’t believe this, but here goes.  The GAP-crossers who came to get my father and his sister said they were time-travelers from a parallel universe.  Years later, our dad told my brother Dain and me about it.”

          “Grandpa Parker was a time-traveler?  Is that how he died?”  As soon as I blurt this out, I wish I hadn’t. 

          Dad’s jaw is set in a hard grimace and his eyes flash in anger.  I can tell he doesn’t want to talk about his father, and he moves his jaw back and forth, grinding his teeth before he finally sighs, “No.  I don’t think the cancer my father had was related to time-travel.”

          I nod silently to myself.  Dad has never even told us how Grandpa Parker died.  The look in his eyes frightens me.  It’s not just anger or sadness.  There’s almost a look of hatred as he glances at Lexi.

          “And these GAP-crossers came and took him someplace, like being abducted by aliens?”

          Lexi lets out a quiet chuckle.  “Not aliens.  We’re human just like you.”

          “Are you joking?”

          “No, Cinda.  Many strange things are out there in the wide Universe.  Your father and your grandfather have even done battle with a huge red dragon.”

          “But dragons aren’t real, are they?”  I’m beginning to wonder if I’m in the middle of a strange dream.

          “That dragon sure seemed real,” Dad mutters.  “But I was just a boy.”

          Now Lexi turns her gaze on Dad, “Evin,” she says sharply, “I think you’d better start at the beginning and tell the story in order.  You’ve delayed too long, and time is short.”

          “How can time be short when it’s a circle?”  Dad is staring at Lexi, but suddenly she fades into a mist and is gone.  “Okay,” he sighs, as he moves me off his lap.  “You’re getting heavy, my teenage daughter.”  He shifts into the chair that’s just across from my bed.  “There, I can breathe again.  Now, I need you to just listen for awhile, okay?  I know this is going to sound crazy, but I can only tell it if you don’t interrupt me, Cinda.”

          “Where did she go?” I gasp.

          “Back into the GAP, I suppose.”  There’s anger in his voice.  “I didn’t want you involved in this, but it seems I have no choice.”  He takes a deep breath.  “GAP-crossers are time travelers, who can cut across the space-time continuum.”

          “The what?”  As soon as I speak, he puts a finger to his lips.  “Oh, yeah.  Sorry.”

          “This is why I wanted to wait until you were older.  A good physics class would help you understand some of this.  There are more than the three dimensions we see around us here.  Anyway, the first GAP-crossers my family experienced took my father and his older sister on a journey through space and time.  Dad told us about it when I was about seven or eight.  It was a good thing he did, because one evening shortly after, two strangers came who said they, too, were GAP-crossers.  They needed my dad’s help to find Jael, one of those first time-travelers.  They said he’d disappeared, and only my father could help because he was his forerunner.”

          “Like Lexi says I am.”  These words slip out before I can stop them. 

          Dad gets a strange look on his face, but it’s not anger or confusion.  I can’t really tell for sure, but he seems like worried and doesn’t want me to see.  He doesn’t scold me for interrupting this time but takes a deep breath before he goes on.  “My father agreed to go, even though my mother wasn’t too pleased about it.  Later, our dog Shadow took me with him into one of those GAPS, saying we needed to fight the Red Dragon.”

          “Dad, this is too weird with all this talk about dragons.”        

          He moves closer to me and takes both of my hands in his.  “Don’t worry about the dragon,” he whispers.  “He’s not your concern.”

          “I hope so.  But did you say your dog took you?”

          “Shadow, yes.  He was no ordinary dog.  He just showed up on our porch one night and never left.  Then he began communicating with me by some sort of telepathy.”

          “You’re kidding, right?”

          “No, Cinda.  I know it happened.”

          I shake my head and look across at his face.  He seems like he’s still sane.  “So, is this super-dog still around somewhere, Dad?”

          He shakes his head.  “Shadow went off alone to die when I was about eighteen.  I probably shouldn’t have named you and your brother after us.  I guess names and their meanings have a lot of power.  Your brother’s name, Ian, is the Scottish form of Jon, and mine is the Welsh form.”

          “Who’s Jon? Was he one of the time-travelers, Dad?”

          He nods.  “That name means sent by God, or gift of God.  I hope they don’t try to send Ian through the GAP—or you.”

          I shrug and try to wrap my mind around all this.  “But Dad, I’m still confused about what the GAP is.”

          “I’m sorry.  Maybe I shouldn’t tell you anymore.  You’re too young.”

          “No. please don’t stop now.  I want to understand.”

          “Okay.  But I wish Lexi had stayed.  I’m not first-born, so I can’t really explain the GAP—it’s just a way to cut across the distances and times.  Now, try to be quiet for me, okay?”

          “I’ll listen, Dad.  I promise.”

          “Well we did help fight off the dragon, and rescue my father’s friend, Jael.  Then Shadow brought Dad and me back home.  It felt like we were gone for years, but according to my mom, it was only a few days.  So, our lives got back to normal for a few years, until Dad got sick.”

          As he stops, I see the pain in his eyes and move closer where I can touch his shoulder, but this time I keep my promise not to interrupt.

          “After our father died,” he continues, “My brother Dain showed me a message Dad left in our hayloft.  And not long afterwards, another GAP-crosser—an old man with a bushy white beard—came and took both of us with Shadow to help defeat the Red Dragon.”

          “Again?”  The words leap from my mouth.  “How come that dragon keeps coming back?”

          “He’s very powerful.  But he can be defeated in the end, with the right weapons.”

          His voice fades, and I feel his hand sweating in mine.  Looking up, I can see tears shining in his eyes.

          “I wish I’d known Grandpa Parker,” I whisper.

          “Me, too.”  Then he stops talking and we just sit for a long time. 

          “Are you a GAP-crosser, too, Dad?”

          “No.  Only first-born have the ability.  My older brother Dain could do it on his own, but I needed Shadow to take me.”

           “Does this mean I really have this—uh, power?”

          He nods.  “That may be why Lexi came.  Dain kept telling me there was some kind of call.”

          “Dad, is this why you and Uncle Dain don’t communicate much?  Did something bad happen between you out there in the—uh, GAP?

          He shook his head.  “It’s something else.  But I don’t want to talk about it.  You should ask your Great-aunt Ginna.  Maybe she can explain.”

          By the tone of his voice, I knew I should change the subject.  “Do you mean Uncle Dain could call the GAP-crossers to come?”

          “Not exactly.  He said it happened of itself—‘not when I want it, but when I need it most,’ is what he told me.”

          “So, I somehow called Lexi?”

          “Perhaps.”  He closes his eyes and slowly shakes his head.  I’m wondering if he’s just trying to stop the tears.

          “But who is Lexi?  What did she mean about that ‘forerunner’ stuff?”

          He opens his eyes slowly, and I see flecks of green shining in his hazel irises.  They seem to show most when he’s upset or excited.  “A forerunner is someone who comes before, but is closely related to someone in the future, or even in another parallel universe.  My father was a forerunner of Jael, and that’s why the two of them could merge with each other in the GAP.”

          “Dad, this is weird.  What does Lexi want with me?”

          He just shakes his head.

          “Where did she come from?  Do you know?”

          He looks into my eyes steadily before he replies.  “If she’s related to Jael like she says, then she’s from the future, Cinda—from the Thirty-first Century.”

          My mouth opens, but no sound comes out.