Kinzua Kid
by C.E. Gee
In the spring of 1959, my
parents moved us from Anchorage, Alaska to a little company-owned
mill-town in Eastern Oregon. I was in my early teens at the time.
Kinzua was the town’s name; it’s a ghost town now.
Kinzua’s only industry was a sawmill, and the town was surrounded by a
forest of ponderosa pine trees.
As was and still is my nature, I took many solitary, contemplative
walks in the forest. With only my thoughts to accompany me on
those walks, I formulated theories that are still with me to this day.
Kinzua’s mill had a loud steam whistle, which sounded shift changes and
lunch times. Deep in the forest one day, I heard the far off
whistle, stopped for lunch.
Perched atop a tree stump, I sipped lemonade from my canteen and
happily wolfed down a peanut butter sandwich. I then heard
footsteps and rustling noises coming from behind the undergrowth across
the small clearing.
I reached down to my right hip, gripped the handle of my knife,
experimentally slid it up and down in its sheath so as to assure myself
that the knife could be easily and quickly drawn.
Not normally of a violent nature, I have always been cold-blooded,
cautious, prepared –- one of the reasons I later survived the Vietnam
War –- one of the reasons.
A naked female walked into the clearing; another emerged from the
undergrowth, more followed. There were twelve of them in all, of
varied ages and stature. I was stunned by their curvaceous
figures; I’d never before seen post-pubescent, unclothed females.
Oddly enough, a couple of the females carried musical instruments.
Some of the females went to the left, some went to the right. As
if on cue, they all sat on the forest floor.
A man emerged; at least I initially thought he was a man.
Topped with a fedora, the man sported a goatee, had a wicked sparkle in
his eyes.
He was clad in a tweed sport coat over a wool vest and white shirt,
open collared. His trousers were also tweed. He had no
shoes. Instead, I saw cloven hooves!
At the time, I knew nothing of Greek mythology. But I knew a
great deal about religion, which I suppose is like mythology. And
I knew the devil had hooves. It was only later that I learned of
Pan. Anyway, I was glad I had my knife.
“So,” said the creature, “we meet again. I’ve been looking
forward to this little get-together since well before your present
incarnation.”
Taken aback, having no idea of what to say, I politely replied, “Beg
pardon? Do I know you?”
He laughed, removed his hat. There were two small horns that had
been hidden beneath the hat.
The creature removed the rest of his clothing, handed the garments to a
nearby female. The creature appeared to be much younger than the
impression made when clothed. And below his waist were the
hindquarters of a goat.
“Our spirits are eternal,” replied the creature. “More than a
million of this planet’s years ago, we became close friends. We
maintained that friendship through many incarnations.”
Though normally quick-witted, I struggled to understand what I had been
told. My thoughts were interrupted as the creature continued with, “You
fought beside the Greeks in the Trojan War, were struck down by a
Trojan arrow.
“You, my friend, you always were curious. Though you knew the
secret to immortality, you were curious about the light.
“Following your death in the Trojan War, instead of turning away from
the light, you went to it. Within the light are forces that wiped
clean all memories of your past lives. Your spirit was then
reincarnated on this planet as an ignorant mortal.”
As I struggled to absorb what I’d been told, distractedly, I replied,
“Interesting.”
“Now listen up!” demanded the creature. “Remember my words.
In your present incarnation, you will die –- many times. But our
comrades and I will use our powers to bring you back to life.
“You and I and our comrades were exiled to this backward planet because
of trumped-up sedition charges. We will use your present mortal
incarnation as a tool to expedite our return to the rest of this
universe.
“You will educate the primitive hominids of this planet to both the
ways of interstellar travel and of eternal life. We will then
regain our birthright. For with the natives of this planet as our
allies, we will have them build spaceships, which will allow us to roam
this universe once again as free beings.
“At one time, the natives of this planet thought we were gods.
They thought we created them, which in a way we did. You might
notice how closely they resemble us. We did some interbreeding
with the natives.”
The creature laughed, then continued, “Our comrades and I will watch
over you, protect you, enlighten you. In turn, you will teach the
natives that which we inspire in you. Got it?”
I nodded my agreement to the covenant.
The creature smiled, placed his hands together at the chest as if in
prayer, bowed slightly, said, “Namaste.”
I had learned from my Father, who was a veteran of World War II, the
sign of “V” for victory. I raised my right hand, made the “V”.
At the time, I had no idea of the meaning of the word Namaste.
Nonetheless, without bowing, I echoed, “Namaste.”
The creature smiled broadly, turned his back to me, returned to the
forest.
All the females rose, followed the creature, left me alone with my
thoughts and memories, such as they were, such as they are.
I’m an old man now. But my mission is almost finished.
Namaste.
THE END
© 2015 C.E. Gee
Bio: C.E. Gee (aka Chuck) misspent his youth at backwater locales
within Oregon and Alaska. Chuck later answered many callings: logger
(choker setter), meat packer (Norbest Turkeys), Vietnam War draftee,
telecommunications technician, volunteer fireman/EMT, light show roady,
farmer, businessman. A disabled veteran and retired from business,
Chuck now writes SF stories.
E-mail: C.E. Gee
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