| Jimmy couldn't remember when he first
heard the bells. Like a thousand tiny Christmas bells all being shaken at once. ....
The
grinding, clunking, rumble faded away, as did the sound of ten thousand bells. The thing
had stopped.
Jimmy watched.
The boy-driver took off his outrageous golden
crown, removed a key from a switch, unfastened his safety belt, and jumped lightly to the
ground.
"Good to see you, Jimmy, my boy," he said
as he walked up the hillside. His skin was copper, like the color of Felipe Sanchez,
Jimmy's only fifth grade friend. And somewhere in his voice there was an accent, but not
quite like that of Felipe.
He sat on the grass beside Jimmy. "Y'all don't
lock doors around here, do you? So I can leave the key." He tossed the key back
toward the thing. The key hit one of the little bells and fell to the ground, but now all
the bells were ringing again.
Jimmy forced his head to turn, and looked at him.
"Who are you?"
The boy--he looked no older than Jimmy--touched his
lips, said, "Shhh."
A small red hole appeared in the center of his bare
chest. At first, Jimmy thought it was another magic trick, but then blood ran from the
hole and he crumpled to the ground. Jimmy was frightened, knew he had been shot, but he
had heard nothing.
He knelt beside the boy, holding his head. He
wanted to scream but said, "What is it? What happened?"
"A hunter..." The boy's eyes were wide,
bright.
"But you said..."
"He couldn't see me, or the Great Car, or you
right now for that matter. He saw something, probably he thought it was a bird. And he
shot. It's all right."
Jimmy remembered the one time, late at night, when
his father had talked of his experiences in the war. The stories, most of them, were gone.
Jimmy remembered only the blood, "everywhere, sometime for days." Like this?
Jimmy wondered. He remembered the pain and disgust in his father's eyes that night.
"No, it's not all right."
"But it is. It is. You will understand, maybe
not today or tomorrow, but you will understand."
Jimmy really wanted to scream now. He felt tears
running down his cheeks. "You're going to die."
"Yes."
"What will happen, I mean, to, to, you know,
the...."
"The boy smiled, laughed a little. "You
can say it. It's not a dirty word."
Jimmy felt silly. The tears were coming faster. Too
loud, he said, "To the Great Car,"
The boy was still smiling. "Nothing. Nothing
at all. It was here, growing, before I came. It will be here, growing, after I go."
Jimmy looked at the giant thing, paused
ridiculously in the valley, his valley.
"But." Jimmy's brain seemed frozen. Not
thinking, not feeling. Seeing only, so intensely.
The boy's breathing was becoming slow, shallow. His
eyes were half-closed. "It's your turn now, if you want."
"Uh-uh. No way, man. I don't want to get
shot."
"Don't worry. It doesn't happen very
often."
Jimmy's mind abruptly thawed and he began to sob.
"Shit, shit, shit."
"Ah, Jimmy, look at me. Look." The boy
gestured toward his eyes. "What do you see?"
Jimmy looked and saw in two dark mirrors a tiny
double image of himself, hunched over. "It's a dream, right?" As soon as he said
that, the pressure in his chest ceased, and the tears stopped coming.
"If you mean, it's not real, no. It is not a
dream. It gets more real every day. See?"
Jimmy looked at the monstrous colorful toy resting
in the little valley below them, like some ridiculous Christmas-birthday-Halloween-Easter
fantasy. It was true. Something was different just in these few minutes. It seemed both a
bit bigger, a bit brighter, a bit more colorful.
"Watch it closely. Choose a part and watch it
closely. Like clouds, you'll see it growing, changing, germinating, blooming. Watch."
Jimmy chose an area that he thought might be a
fender, covered with gold and silver nooks and crannies, jewels, countless small figures:
animals, plants, people, towns, cities, forests, seas. Jimmy stared. It was like an
optical illusion,. Or like clouds. The change was slow, so slow, that you couldn't really
see the change, but you knew after a minute that it was different.
"What did I smell coming up the creek behind
you? Sort of sweet, tangy."
Beneath his golden skin, the boy blushed. "I.
. I. . . . Asian sweat. It's such a hot day. I had been intending to hop off
and take a dip but with one thing and another..." Clearly abashed, he looked down and
waited for Jimmy to speak.
As if on cue, a drop of sweat appeared on the boy's
forehead and ran down into his dark eyebrow.
""But this is April. You think this is. .
."
"Maybe I should change."
"Huh?" Jimmy looked him up and down. Not
a stitch of clothes. "Change?"
The boy laughed. "Bodies. This oriental
version is not accustomed to such heat." He saw the incredulous look on Jimmy's face.
"You want me to? You can watch." He said it as if he were talking about standing
on his head.
"It, this is a dream then."
"No. Not dream. Here." He took Jimmy's
hand and placed it on his chest.
Jimmy felt the warm smooth skin, the breathing, and
faintly the heartbeat, and the slick blood.
"You want me to? I'm sure I can choose
something much more suitable to this time or place. It'll take about five minutes."
"lt has to be a dream."
"I know it seems fast. It's five minutes of
your time. The, uh, body time would be about two months. Come on, I'll do it. It's fun.
Oh, but you should know, watching, you'll be sucked into my time, so when I'm finished
you'll think two months have passed."
"No way. No thanks."
Fear took Jimmy. "Who are you? What is that
thing?" In his shock, Jimmy's manners had left him completely.
"You might call it a juggernaut."
"Huh?"
"May we sit down? It's been an exhausting
day."
They sat and leaned against the large trunk of a
live oak.
"A juggernaut. It is this, this thing that is
in the world always, moves through the world."
"But what does it do? What is it for?"
"Ah." The boy suddenly looked very sad.
Jimmy regained something of his polite self.
"I'm sorry. Did I say something wrong?"
"Oh no, not at all. It's just that sometimes
it's painful to remember what a long trip it's been... Tell me, what do you see when you
look at it?"
Jimmy thought this was a pretty strange question,
strangely formed., "It's not like anything I've seen before. Like a giant float, but
it's not flowers. It's gold and silver and jewels and tiny plants and tiny people."
Jimmy squinted, looking closely at the thing some hundred meters away. "Funny, but
the longer I look at it the more details I see. Like now I see that there are tiny clouds
around some of the little mountains of gold and silver. Pretty weird."
"Indeed. Would you believe me if I told you it
has always been here, in this little valley. Elsewhere too, but always here."
"What do you mean? I come here all the time
and I never saw it before today."
"Most people, if they came here, would not see
it either. At most they might notice a certain shimmering shifting in the air, which they
would write off as heat waves or some such."
"It's a dream. Has to be. What do you mean,
other people can't see it? It's right there."
"Yes, but you, some part of you, has to know
how to look, has to look in just a certain, a uh, a certain mood."
"Like depressed? I was feeling really
depressed before you came chugging up the draw.?
"No. Not depressed." The boy lapsed into
thought, Jimmy waited, thinking he was going to explain what he meant by 'mood'.
"You want to take a ride?" The boy spoke
brightly, as if Jimmy had not just told him how bad he felt.
"Sure."
END
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