Installment 4

"And what about daydreams?"

The kahuna smiled, "What about them?"

"Are they just as real as dreams, then, able to be analyzed, symbolized, everything a dream can?"

"Well, what do you think?"

"To me they have the same strength as night dreams - almost, anyhow. Depends on what you put into them."

"Exactly. People dream all the time. They just shut it all out except the one in front of them - and they mostly don't really pay attention to that one, either."

"So we can learn on multiple levels at any time during the day?"

"If you want..."

"And imagination tends to fire up day-dreams. Does that mean they are related?"

"Look inside, you already have that answer. I'm going for a swim. Coming?" Without waiting for an answer, the kahuna strode out onto the mostly deserted beach, pulled off his top and kicked out of his sandals, leaving only his swim trunks on - and soon was wading in the surf as it splashed around him. Before long, he was making long strokes directly out to sea.

I sat in the shade and pondered the questions of questions he had left me. I still didn't know - but that was the first consideration to change. Or not.

- - - -

Struggling to me feet, I carefully checked to see nothing was broken, or strained. 15 feet of fall was the last piece to get free of the vines and roots, to gain the floor of this massive underground chamber.

This place was truly huge. Light filtered in from a number of high vantages, but I could see that this place got little light during the day in general. Deep shadows remained. Day came late and left early. Few leaves on the vines at this level, lots of decomposing humus with its dust laying thick over what seemed to be a flat rock floor.

But there were game trails here, too, so this meant a way out other than the long drop I had taken. That was promising - I wasn't really prepared to spend the night.

Moving down the trail toward the lighter end, it was relatively easy moving. Too often a trail height was governed by the size of the animal, but here nothing really grew, so it was more how to get out of here or move to where there was actual food.

As I moved, the trail thinned, but more because the dust had settled to dried mud and then places where it had been washed away from the underlying rock as there had been some sort of water movement through here. That was interesting, since as the natural canyon widened out the floor became more clear, meaning it collected water during rains. The roots and rocks on the walls showed definite high-water marks, which were now even with my head as I continued on this now much clearer path.

The roots and vines now receded to the edges of the floor, and I could see where they were now just barely meeting the floor. Pausing for a sip of water from my canteen, I got moving again. Not too much time left in this day. Or were those clouds gathering?

The canyon was not straight, but kept widening. Boulders now augmented the sandstone floor, as fallen from above or separated from the high walls. As I turned yet another corner, it became more obvious what this place was - and what I had come for.

As if illumined with a spotlight, a sitting Buddha-like figure was carved into solid rock in a larger clearing ahead. And of course, my camera didn't survive falling into this canyon.

It was truly massive. Cut from some natural rock formation, it was extremely unique. Half black, half white. Equal sides of color, where the sitting figure was to one site almost pure white alabaster and the other black onyx. Extremely rare rock formation. And as well, it seems to be embedded. The original rock might have been a meteorite, as it was embedded in the sandstone, having a definite demarcation in a near perfect circle around the front of the figure. How big the rock was couldn't be determined, since the carving ended at the wall. The sides of the original stone ran up the wall, almost as a halo - half white, half black - above and behind the figure's head.

Inscriptions ran around the base, mostly worn by the water action, but the area was remarkably clean. The water would seem to flood this area and then drain rapidly as the only explanation of how this floor was kept clean and polished. The only explanation which came to mind, anyway.

I sat to contemplate this. Pulling out my notes from a side pocket, I checked the description of what I was looking for. This matched. However, the GPS wasn't working here. It wouldn't settle on a definite location. So much for being rescued. But what I was seeing matched the manuscript's description.

The figure looked serene, calm, reflective.

But something was rather odd about it. Even though the vines came down from the roof and were growing about, those which were on the white side of the figure were blossoming. Bees circled, coming and going to get their nectar. On the black side, all the vines were black and withered where they tried to cross the boundary of sandstone or had fallen from a higher reach. Similarly, the butterflies and other insects seemed to avoid the dark side and moved away from that boundary where they ventured too close.

Life and death, it hit me. Something in this statue - or the rock it came from - was emanating a vibrant, positive life-force (or at least being conducive) while the other was emanating death and decay.

The same was happening at the base of the statue. Where leaves had fallen on to the black side, they were shriveled. The other side had dead leaves, these were covered in green ones as well. I couldn't say that a leaf falling on the black half of that statue would shrivel instantly, but it sure looked that way.

Stepping forward gave me a new sensation. Once I crossed from the sandstone to the rock, it had an interesting affect. That part of my body on the black side (my right) became numb, or at least lost feeling. My left side was normal and at ease. Turning around created the opposite reaction, only this time my heart began pumping irregularly - since it was on the left side of the body. I quickly moved over to the white half of the stone and felt a wave of relief, almost bliss. Too relaxed, like I could stay here forever, completely at peace. As my eyes drooped, I caught myself and moved back to the sandstone.

Now I quickly recovered back to normal. Or it seemed that way. Pulse was regular, breathing normal.

Either side of that figure was a trap. What caused it, I had no way of knowing. Again, I though of the meteorite theory.

How they had carved that statue - which just sat in reflection - I had no clue. The face had a wispy smile and both sides mirrored the other, the hands meeting in a sudra in front of the chest.

The canyon seemed to suddenly darken. While it had been getting more overcast as I came in, it was obvious that I had lost track of the weather and all time. The wind picked up and I could hear it winding through the canyon, swirling the leaves and dust in an increasing flow of debris through the air.

Thunder, which had been working in the background with low rumbles, suddenly made itself vividly apparent when it started loudly echoing off the high canyon walls. The bare aspect of the area surrounding this statue suddenly became clear. To each side of the seated figure, the canyon moved away flatly. Real vertical sides. I saw that there was a reason for the sparse vegetation on the canyon floor - it was a flash flood outlet.

As if on cue, the rain started - and then picked up as a torrential downpour. With no cover to be had other than my hat (which quickly became a floppy mess obscuring my vision even more), I headed quickly back up the canyon, hoping to get above the high-water mark I had started out at. Unfortunately, this was a quarter-mile or so back, and all uphill.

Breaking into a trot, I worked to keep the stinging rain out of my eyes, even as the thunder increases and lightning flashed above the canyon walls. Moving to one side, as I travelled, I looked for any vines which might be hanging down far enough to reach and hold onto in case the water started pouring in.

There was already a rivulet forming in the center of the floor and quickly spreading to each side. I paused to study it and find the speed of flow - to see how fast it was gaining in size.

Then I heard it. And felt it. A low rumble which sounded like a distant herd in flight. Upstream. Where I was headed.

I didn't wait to see it - reversing, my trot became a flat out run, hat hanging off by it's drawstring and bouncing along with my pack as I raced back down, trying to keep next to the canyon wall while jumping and avoiding boulders and rocks in my path. The water quickly became over my ankles, which made forward travel even more difficult and dangerous.

Tripping and falling for the third time, I raised my face out of the muddy water in time to see the wall of water come at me. Glancing down stream, I saw the white side of seated figure again, not too far now. That was my only hope.

It was a flat-out race of me against that wall of water.

Quickly, ankle high became knee-high and climbing fast. I tried to remember all the boulders I had avoided on the way up and mostly missed them all. The barked shins I was enduring didn't matter as much as reaching that statue.

Almost there, the water receded for a split-second as my hands touched the statue. I turned that forward sprint to an upward one as the wave crashed over me and flattened me half-way up that statue.

I knew I couldn't stop climbing, even as the tide was trying to rip me off the side of that figure. The next fight was also for air as water quickly rose above my head and bore my backpack up with it...

- - - -

It was a bright, sunny day with cartoon clouds in the sky and a sun which had a smiley-face drawn on it. The grass, while soft and green, had a drawn edge to it - like everything did.

Sitting up, Joe realized this was a familiar landscape for him. To each side, were Dog and Cat.

"Hey Joe."

"Hiya Dog."

"Hello Joe."

"Hiya Cat."

"Hey that one looks like a horse to me, too. What do you think, Joe?" Dog was pointing with his paw to one particular cloud in the sky.

"Well, it does look like it has four legs, a head, and a tail sticking out. What do you think, Cat?"

Cat considered it for awhile, and said, "Well, could be a horse, could be a cow. Definitely not an elephant or a chicken."

"Hey Joe, welcome back. Haven't seen you for while."

"Well, I guess I've been busy."

"Yeah, but you could be busy here just as well as somewhere else."

Dog interjected, "We missed you a bit, you know. It's always much more fun with you around."

Joe, touched, said, "Well, I appreciate that. Wish I could come here more often."

Cat sat up. "What keeps you away? Thought you liked it here."

Joe, thoughtful, considered carefully before speaking. "I don't know, really. I liked it here when I was a kid. All those picture books I used to read, all those stories used to bring me to you every night."

Dog smiled one of his goofy grins, with his tongue hanging out. "And your Aunt used to read about us to you. And Grandpa would come in and make up even more stories than were in the books."

Joe smiled, recalling the happy childhood days on his Uncle's farm. Before he grew up and moved to town to get an education and a job. "Boy, those were the days."

Dog jumped up, tail wagging. "Well, we shouldn't waste any more time on those - we've got some 'sploring to do!"

Cat stretched lazily. "I agree. The barnyard has a new set of chicks since you were here last and Miss Clucky is trying to keep track of them all. Missy Duck says they should all stay in a line, like hers, but Miss Clucky told her off, that chicks got to scratch. Rows of birds are for sparrows and roosting at night. Chicks can't roost until they can fly, so until then, they can just run around and find the grass and bugs they need."

Amazed at how much Cat was talking, Joe knew this was again Cat's way of bringing him up to date, and probably how much they missed him around here.

Dog was jumping around and back and forth, his front and back ends barely coordinated, his long ears nearly getting under his feet. "Come ON!!" he yelped. "Let's go - day light's burnin'!" And with that, Dog galumphed down the cow path toward the barn, while Cat too a more studied and graceful saunter, as was her more usual and dignified approach.

Cat sidled up and rubbed against his leg as they travelled. "Just a purr-fect day, isn't it?"

Joe had to agree. The cartoon-drawn bib overalls he wore were comfortable and the world had a smell to it which reminded him of all the old things of childhood he had missed for so long.

Life was good.

- - - -

Factor 1 impatiently waited for the doorway to dilate. "What gives, you beeped me twice more on my way here..."

"He jumped the track again. We thought he'd stay in that groove, but..." One of the undergrads was almost frantic, thinking they had just screwed up royally.

Roger, even though disgruntled about having been woken up, knew he had asked for it. So he was more gentle with that undergrad - he'd been in those shoes himself before. "This one is a difficult one. We've been watching him for weeks and having to do constant course corrections. Not your fault. But get up, I've got some work to do now."

"We used your back-up, just as you said. Everything calmed down when we dropped him into that one."

Both undergrads were standing now, as Roger started tick-tacking at the keyboard. "Did you wake Sue?"

"I beeped her, and she said she was on her way. You didn't call us back, so..."

"Yeah, sorry about that. Not protocol, was it? But I live close by, so thought I'd be here faster. Figures that you'd beep me again. Should have known."

The doorway dilated again, showing Factor 2 in its opening.

"Hey guys, did I miss anything?"

One of the undergrads spoke up, "We briefed Roger and I'm sure he'll fill you in." They split to move around Sue and make room for her in the limited space of the control room. As she sat, they entered the doorway and quickly disappeared down the hall.

"Were we that flighty when we started, Roger?"

"Don't know about you, but I was so anxious to get off a watch, I'd usually stumble on the way out. These things used to scare the hell out of me."

"I seem to remember being so scared, they'd actually have to tell me to leave - literally scared stiff."

"Well, it looks like they did good. Through him into sub-program 0-B, just like I told them to. This one seems to like that adventure business. That's was piqued them, his heart-rate jumped with the other monitors and they freaked out. Not that I wouldn't, too."

"So what do you have him on now?" Sue brushed her hair back out of her eyes and zipped her tunic the rest of the way up - before Roger could say anything.

Roger, reading his screens intently, didn't appear to notice. "Just getting a segue ready for him to move back into the hospital sequence. One, Two, Three, there --"

- - - -

Joe lifted his head up and noticed he had dozed off again. Those psychology texts could do that. Boring. B-O-R-I-N-G. They lacked any style or plot or characters. Just a near-monotonous litany of arguments, proofs, comparative studies, linked sources, and footnotes. Tedious study at best.

But he was finding their parallels between the philosophic understandings of dreams, psychological studies, and also religious texts. So some progress was being made.

He reached out for his cup and found it empty. "Time for a refill", he thought. Moving around would do me some good.

As he walked to the built-in library cantina, he again marveled at how they built this place. "But if I didn't know better, I'd say this was more a residential care center than hospital. A psych ward, even - but that wouldn't be me." Joe paused, then shrugged. "Not like I've even given them a chance to tell me why I'm here. Make a mental note."

Having gotten his drink and returned to settle into that comfortable easy chair, he picked up the ancient religions text and opened to one of the dog-ears he'd left earlier.

'Dreams and their Analysis', it read. 'Life, in the oldest traditions has always been a dream, and is probably the basis for storytelling. It's thought by some that this is the how some awakened souls would compare their own dreams with those of others around them - seeing what they could learn in the comparison...'

The text went on to describe various terms for types of dreams, and how various saints and prophets had used their own dreams and those of others to explain the world around them - quite in addition to explaining past events or foretelling the future. Often a completely unknown person would reach prominence because of a series of dreams which he disclosed to others around him.

Intrigued, Joe picked up the book on aboriginal legends as he remembered something down this line. There it was: 'Shamans and witch-doctors were known to have entered the dreams of their adversaries and affect their actions remotely. Both peace and war were created in this way, and sometimes death for that adversary - at least they didn't wake up. But it was said that they just had gone onto a different dream. There have been no scientific explanation for how this was accomplished, but numerous reports on record of it having occurred in multiple continents and tribes which had never actually been in contact with each other...'

Outside of the run-on prose, Joe was beginning to get a picture here. Dreams meant all sorts of things, but could also be influenced by others. And that might explain how some of his dreams were wild, and others seemed to recur at different times.

- - - -

Sue's jaw dropped as she watched the screen. "Do you think he suspects?"

Roger smiled wryly, even condescendingly, "No, they never do. We're too good at what we do."

"But he's reading the same text we have."

"Yea, I don't know how that got in there. Maybe you can trace down that code to find out who inserted that. I thought we had the stock library, but apparently we don't."

"That will certainly keep me busy for awhile. But at least he's behaving now."

"Just for now. Let's hope it lasts."