'I can't get no satisfa….'

The Stones just started playing. They weren't my favorite band; I liked Canned Heat. I didn't get to Woodstock because I was preoccupied in a conflicted 'elsewhere' when that rainy, ill planned, mucky mess of a celebration of peace took place. Although a long way from there to here, weirdness always followed me like a dark cloud with a sense of humor. It was different there, in the jungle, than here - me sitting astride a chopped '74', wearing denim and leather, pretending to be a security guard at an outdoor rock concert touted to be another 'Celebration of Peace'.

That is to say, I was pretending. Life, to me, had long ago lost its ability to be a seamless, sensible, and controllable whole. My life was hardly a celebration of anything, so I took it as it came. Some of my biker Brothers took their new jobs as 'rock star police' pretty seriously. But they take everything seriously, even having fun, being in a constant pissed off state separated them from the flower children that undulated all around them. It was brought down to the difference between the mind states produced by LSD and Pot verses that of Speed and Jack Daniel's.

No one gave the bikers any guidelines, not that they would listen. Who ever it was that thought that there were any moral, philosophical, or ethical merge - lines between Bikers and Hippie Flower Types really had some wires crossed- far worse than those mis-colored wires that ran the engine of my life. Perhaps it had something to do with my bent wiring and me. My being there, like a rolling stone on that terrible day, was to cause what would next happen. My sour emanations oozed out and all it took was for one poor fat guy to go and express himself and all hell broke loose.

That’s when I saw 'them' again. You can tell me that the little orange pill I swallowed, with a pint of Old Crow, had something to do with it. But I had seen the nasty little green scaled fuckers before in Nam and all I was 'there'- that is- the state of my mind, was scared shitless. These rock concert demons fading in and out of shadow, then solid and ugly, with the beat of the bass drum. When the ruckus broke out, Charlie was wailing, the ugly beasts were just there dancing, in and among the mostly unaware long hairs, grotesquely jerking to Charlie's kick-high-hat- snap.

Then the brother wielded the knife and the storm started.

I looked up at Jagger and saw his horrified face. Man, he could see them too. Hell, he was yelling at them to stop. Some of them did, for a moment, then laughing at him, dove back in the melee hitting, biting and gleefully howling even louder. Jagger kept screaming and Richards stood there at a complete loss, oblivious or just sure that there was nothing to be done. I wondered how they came to see the scaly brutes, never mind that they actually thought they had some control over them. Poor bastards, what a way to break up a set and they were just beginning to cook. Maybe I was just imagining it. I am not the most reliable witness, after all. Time travelers that see things are not by the nature of their ability good witnesses. Context is the problem. Seeing an event is all well and good but the meaning of the event is lost to you. It is my guess that prophets of old were time travelers and were terrible at recounting what they saw. So bad in fact that they were often stoned to death. No thank you, I'll not make that claim- I am no prophet. I leave this record for posterity for my own reasons. As to the concert, I guess no one else present saw the beasts or wanted to say they saw them. No mention of that bizarre part of the concert was ever reported.

But I had seen the first one, greenish and scaled, sitting on the stage right next to the brother playing with his, soon to be, murderous knife. The brother was clearly wasted, with a squirrely brain clearly wrought in an insane forge, and the demon, mostly unnoticed, was whispering in his ear and pointing his talon decorated hand at the big naked dancing guy. The more the monster whispered the madder the brother got. Then bang like a shot the riot was on. It was no place for a peace loving, red necked, free rider of the open road, to be - so off I went. Engine purring I chanted a prayer for the soul of that unfortunate son and that justice would be meted out. I cursed the foul things as wind swept my hair. I may look the heathen but I'm not.

                                                                  ***

South seemed right. I motored back to my shop and I tried to remember some David Allen Cole tunes to sing and hum along a slowly darkening highway. "You can call me Darling, Darling…"

I stopped for coffee and a piece of chocolate crème pie at my favorite Diner in Independence.

***

I mentioned Nam.

Here is how an unreliable witness remembered his piece of it.

I was a snot - nosed Ensign fresh out of MIT with an odd Ph.D. in Speculative Engineering. I had allergies, then, of every kind, all made me miserable - and I had been assigned as over-qualified baggage, to some seasoned guys to refit something or other, somewhere, at one of our bases deep in-country Vietnam. Using me to re-fit some generators or fix broken down diesels was typical of Military thinking at the time, over-think the useless thing and under think the thing that mattered…or so I thought. The truth - I was valuable because I could fix things with whatever was at hand. Ph.D. aside, I was a good Wrench.

No one talked to me and it didn't take long to figure out that this was not a typical mission. I had been pumped up with every Anti-allergen the Military knew and a mix of other stuff they made up. Four months of Air force Special-Ops training had me fit and hard. I was still a liability to the five guys with whom I now kept quiet company. It didn't take long, however, for me to prove myself something other than baggage. We were inserted, by helicopter, in the dark, with a rope drop, just short of the Cambodian border. I deported myself well. With a nod from Number One we moved quickly to cover and got our bearings. In less than fifteen minutes we were on a hard run. I had no idea where we were going or why. As we passed over the border to Cambodia my expectation of surviving this little adventure was diminishing with each step.

We hit them in the dark just short of dawn. They had to know we were coming but I think we surprised them. Number one took one in the forehead and went down backward in an eerie boneless heap. Point swung back and lined us to the left in a rill for better cover. Number two gestured us down has he moved into the dark and wet. I didn't like the idea of leaving someone behind. Our mission, whatever it was, precluded our thinking ourselves anything but expendable. Dead before you get there - so no worries. Three pulled out a pair of night- vision binoculars and perused the jungle ahead of us. There was a light green glow off to the right. Number Three pulled out a small pack opened it and set up a miniature machine gun with self-feeding belts. I had never seen anything like it. We moved off down into the small creek and attempted to flank the enemy. The gun left behind burst periodically as an attempt to draw fire. It worked. I would have liked to look that clever gun over.

Suddenly something or someone hit me and I was fighting for my life. Pain drilled up my left arm and I briefly saw the small knife hilt buried in my forearm. I was enraged and tore into my tormentor. I grasped his neck and, with strength I didn't know I possessed, snapped it. The man fell to the ground and I on top of him. I was completely out of breath gasping like a fish out of water. My lungs screaming for air that would not come.

I rolled off the body and found myself in a well-appointed field tent.

A General in full dress regalia helped me to my feet and shook my hand vigorously. I still gasped as I tried to make sense of the scene in front of me. Where was the night - my team - the jungle - the man I had just killed?

.

"Well done Navy that was a fricken Viet Cong Colonel you killed. I've recommended a big fricken medal. Sit and have a drink. Good God Almighty ain't you a pistol. Who would have thought a soft-handed, lilly-coddled, mommy lovin', Campus livin' egghead like you could be so damn mean. Gentlemen…the training of our fine young men is the best in the world. And this man, this fine American is surly an example. I have some good old Kentucky sippin' whiskey. Sorry you missed lunch but we couldn't wait. We saved dessert."

I gulped the whiskey and asked for another. This was no dream; the burning down my gullet was breathtaking. It revived me just a little, although I still did not know how I had come to be in the tent.

A Steward walked in and served coffee and chocolate crème pie to all at the table.

"So the device you found was as we had supposed." The gray haired man, an Admiral in a civilian dark blue suit and bright red tie, whom I recognized, at the end of the table, asked.

Another man at the opposite end of the table, smoking a cigar, dressed in what could only be described as golf clothes, fiddling with a putter absently remarked,

"The character of a man is best discerned by the quality of his listening, Mr. Secretary! That device, as the Doctor clearly demonstrated, was trans-dimensional. They clearly used the device to move from their dimension to ours."

"Well, excuse me Sir, it seems to move people from here to there pretty damn well." The Admiral made a grand gesture, with both arms towards me.

To me he asked, "Do you feel any bad effects Son?"

I didn't have time to answer. I felt shitty.

"Well what ever it is it's damn important. Thanks to this courageous man we will all be rich." The general bellowed swilling down a tumbler full of bourbon. "Damned important! I believe my ambition to run for Senator will come to fruition,"

"Let us not jump to der conclusions, mien friends, please," The tiny squeaky voice emanated from a bespectacled little man, with over large ears, sitting next to me, heretofore unnoticed. He was obviously queasy at my quickly diminishing health. He had a slight German accent that was more pronounced as he gulped down each wave of upset.

" Aldough dis device (Gulp) seems to redefine our understanding of dee known universe, vee shouldn't - must not count our chickens before dey hatch. Please, vould you excuse the apt cliché." He looked down at my forearm, turned green, stood and walked to the sink obviously trying to gain some composure.

It was then that I too noticed the knife still sticking out of my arm. There was some blood pooling on the glossy surface of the table. I did not hurt, morphine, probably! There was also blood splattered across my vest. My other hand searched for another wound.

The Admiral leaned over and whispered to me. "All Germans are men of war but for some it can only be an intellectual exercise."

" You are right Doc. We'll do the research." The General reacted to the Brown Suited Mouse. And then we will get rich!" He walked over and put his arm around the little mans shoulder.

"Your cut be in ink, me representin' yer interests an all, Navy. These bastards will nea screw ya. I'll be seein' ta that. Be seein' ya after the war." I turned my eyes toward the voice, and there in the shadowed corner …by my mother's loving Irish heart, was a Leprechaun. The General, leaving the little, still shaking, green carded, Aryan scientist, poured and delivered the little green clad man, now speaking to me, a whiskey and walked back boasting their good fortune to the main table.

I passed out.

***

Number two pulled me from the corpse, dragging me and barking at the others to move into the green glow of the cave opening. Thunder and lightening boomed and crashed all around us and rain drops as big as marbles pummeled us as we moved. WE reached the cave opening under heavy fire and I was tossed into a corner like a sack of spuds. A louder boom vibrated the cave, wind and dirt hit my face in a stinging slap. Hot wetness ran down my face. I was lying prone in a large cavern aware enough of my surrounding to take mental note but the idea of moving and speaking was a distant and an unimportant concern.

"Done, number three check our handy work. We need forty-eight hours to access the situation. Make sure we buried us deep and hard. If you need to, set and time load the C-4 and report back and we will blast some more. We can not to be disturbed. Number Four- I'll take care of our mean -fuckin'- Navy- Scientist- from hell, here." He gave me a quick grin. "…Give me a body count and scout deeper in the cave. You will no doubt find brainy-types that are less likely to give up their lives for the ideal of world communism. The unrepentant comrades are to be shot. If you think the others are all godless and without redeeming qualities shoot them. Your call."

"I would just as soon tell you now. God is on our side. Knowing that, I'd rather shoot them all, Number Two."

"Very well - make it so!"

He took off on the run. Gunshots soon followed. I gathered myself and sat up. The knife was still in my arm.

"I gave you some morphine. It's in the bone. All I can do is wrap it tight and have it be damn annoying to you. You handled that Colonel with some expertise. Where did you learn that inside fighting stuff? I didn't know you had been trained in that technique."

He started to wrap my arm. He sprinkled some kind of powder on the wound winding the bandages very tight. The only feeling I felt was heat running up my arm.

I didn't answer. I knew what was going to happen next. It was as if I had already done it. I let him finish the field dressing and stood up.

" Take me to the heathen machines." I barked.

"What machines…how did you…?"

"There down there…" I pointed down into the Tunnel. With the heathen and godless dead Russians and the Chinese Scientists…"

Number Four came strolling up.

"Number Two…Chinese and Russians with the Cong; all godless heathens dispatched to what ever hell they worship." Number Four's face never changed expression." I found some weird stuff. There are lots of scifi looking machines and, well, bugs or aliens hung up in something like big bottles. A lot more than we were briefed on. "

Number two looked at me with an odd look. To number four he said.

"When you were briefed, did they promise you a picnic?"

"No Number Two…A rose garden…I looked over some of the paper work. I speak and read Russian. What they and we have found here no one can know. If you get my meaning?" He replied

Number Two looked down at me then nodded to Number Four.

"There's more…" Number Four's voice lowered. "…Scenerio 23 has occurred. These bastards were co-mingling."

I got up and left the two men and walked down the hallway-like tunnel. I didn't know what Scenerio 23 was or why both men's faces went white but it didn't stop me from walking down the cut steps. In the shaft face a metal doorway that looked like a hatch on a ship was open and the green light shone out and made the tunnel appear a sickly place. I went through the portal, stepping over the dead men, walked toward one of the machines. Around the machine, that caught my eye, were other instruments with flashing lights and the large, glass tubes. There were twelve tubes all about six feet in height and three feet wide and filled with a yellowish fluids. Crumpled on the deck in front of the machine consul, copper colored blood oozing from a head wound, was a dead creature - a man/ lizard. I didn't want a closer look so I shoved it out of the way with my foot. On that machine was a helmet -like device attached to the back of the largest machine with a bundle of wires. I put it on and immediately a kaleidoscope of colors flashed through my mind. Then I saw it all.

The portal door slammed shut. I had a small thought that I didn't want to be disturbed and the machine did as I had asked or thought. I was surprised at first, but just as I had the thought I knew the machine's purpose. One of the glass containers lit up in an orange light. In front of the tube a mist formed and an eight- foot tall insect-like creature began to appear.

It spoke through speakers in the helmet, while its faceted eyes pierced my soul.

"It has come to you to know all things of things. I the lord god of all lords will deliver unto you who has been prepared, the whole of the world." It said in a jarring voice that sounded like fingernails on a blackboard.

A rumbling started. I knew immediately what was happening- I was doing it somehow.

A red beam slammed into the wall next to me sending dust and debris in every direction. Another hit the floor in front of me. I turned to see what looked like a squad of some green tweaked versions of The Monster from the Black Lagoon. Friends of the dead thing on the floor of the lab area. I wanted them gone and they were. They were firing on me- then -not there - not firing on me. I knew what Scenerio 23 was…Demons or lizard men. Damn the world, the universe, was weird. I trusted that Scenario 23 had a dispatch previso.

I appeared in front of a surprised Number Two, just as a Viet Cong bullet pierced his chest, splashing me in blood. I walked out into the daylight through the blast hole, in the cave opening, the Cong had created, regaining their stronghold- for a moment. I killed about twenty with just a thought. I walked out of the cave and looked on a beautiful morning. I put unbearable nightmares in the minds of the 800 or so that still did their best to kill me. I had their bullets veer away from me. My, would be, enemies ran away screaming; including Number Three. I tried to touch and mend his mind but he was completely insane. I had no choice, sadly, but to let him run.

The earth shook and threw me to the ground. The helmet turned into a slightly wet mist and vanished into the warm breeze. The machine that had made me invincible had to be moved somewhere un-findable for a couple thousand years. In good hands it could be wonderful. I didn't know any good handed or good hearted people. I buried it deep in a coal deposit in the Amazon.

The ship was shaking off a million years of dirt and stone and raising into the air with a horrible din.

I knew the things inside as evil and destructive. I decided that I could not let the ship leave. If it returned to it's home the things, if their civilization still existed, would know about me and come looking for their new protégé. I sent myself into the ship for one last chore.

I stood again inside the green aura-ed room and sat down the pack of C-4 Number Three had let fall. I culled out one machine of interest and left the ship just as it went up in a mushroom cloud.

I sent myself to a café in Saigon. I looked at my despicable bloody filthy self and changed myself into a clean white linen suited, straw -brimmed- smartly hatted businessman drinker of gin and tonics. I decided that the knife was better secured in a sheath at my belt than in my arm. I healed my wound. No matter how many stress releasing sighs emanated from me my head was in a spin and I was fully in the purpose of making it more of a maelstrom. Sinking into oblivion was the best of horrible options. Nothing made sense and I was sure it was a bad dream. I awoke in the arms of an enthusiastic beautiful green-eyed oriental beauty so far the surest thing in a seriously deranged world

***

I spent three weeks trying to sort out what had happened and testing my new abilities.

Then.

I jumped ahead thirty years to see if I was still around. I was. As it turns out you can live in two time periods at once. When you think about it your body replaces every cell in your body every seven years. You quite literally are not the same person. Cause and effect are related to the action of each of the bodies in that timeline. I and my other self could father children start a war or just be a nuisance to the bureaucratic mechanisms; it's the going back before your birth that you can't do- something to do with the Designers intention. I held it like the feelers that reach for lightening bolts. Your time line is your time line. It's why the insect-things kept themselves just barely alive in their tubes. Waiting for…well-me! It's why I killed them. Their time lines are done and over.

So I went back a few years from my life in 1984, after the closed-door hearings years after Vietnam, to the place where I turned down the Pentagon in their wish for me to continue to run the Dimensional Shift Project. That was the machine I saved. I lied. I told them the world in that dimension was long gone along with the bugs. They didn't truly care or believe me. The project had turned into politics and nothing in politics ever resembled reality. The one machine I gave them, a real cash-cow, kept them buzzing and popping out programs for thirty years. In all that time nothing new was found without me. They wanted to find me and bring me back in the worst way.

I disappeared again

I was pretty hard to catch. But they kept trying.

I would live well enough for a few years till the Feds got wind of me then I'd have to jump in time and place. They had some right to me, I guess technically I was still in the Navy.

That kind of forced mobility made having a lasting relationship, with a willing and consenting female, difficult and I'm a guy that needs that stability. Imagine that!

I still tried.

Her name was Cynthia, she was beautiful to look at and I loved her. We bought a lot up in Carmel, a bluff overlooking the ocean. I built a house and she was an artist and I found an interest in motorcycles. For five years I found some peace. Money was easy. I just popped into locked vaults of banks that did business with drug dealers or crooks and would borrow the undocumented cash for my own use. In those days every bank did a certain amount of off the book business so my conscience didn't bother me in the slightest. Holding a bank manager's job in northern California in the late 70's was tough. Sometimes for fun I would pop into the Pentagon and grab a sack full of cash from the Brass's 'vacation funds'. I'm sure that pissed them off but after all, that was my money. The stuff I did give them would be worth trillions. We had sort of a deal even if they didn't like it. I told Cynthia I had inherited all the money. I should have known a relationship based on a lie could never survive.

It was still a happy time for me.

Until the note… It was rolled up like a scroll, smelled of perfume and was taped to the handlebar of the Harley I was rebuilding. I had just got back from a real- time, in my pickup, conventional trip to LA, for parts. It was three in the morning.

The note read:

Sweety,

I am so sorry. My Agent got me a show in London. You know how much I always wanted to go to London. Peter suggested that he and I go and share expenses. Well, he doesn't have much money and this is a once in a lifetime opportunity sooo…I borrowed some of yours. I know you'll understand.

Love,

Cynthia

P S.

I know that I will grow in this process but only if I am true to myself. I have to be honest. I have been sleeping with Peter and I think I love him just a little bit more than you. I don't think I will be coming back. But I promise to pay all the money back.

I crumpled up the note and went to the closet in the bedroom and lifted the floorboards. She took all the money and the metal lined briefcase I had custom made. A hundred fifty -thousand and my dream of love everlasting just flew away with a skinny, freeloading, girly, little weasel like Peter. I had just about convinced myself that Peter was going to suffer a beating from an impossible assailant when I heard a knock on the door. Given the remoteness of the house, the hour, and that friends never knocked, I was sure it was the Feds.

I went to the door prepared to give them a thrill and let them have me for awhile.

I opened the door expecting the men with vests, and drawn guns, and waving of warrants, and the thrashing about, and the handcuffs, and the reading of rights, and the hauling me roughly to the waiting cars whose lights were all ablaze and pointing at my front door.

No not one of those things happened.

Just three odd looking, not smiling, tall, thin, tanned, black suited, sunglass wearing, fedora topped, no lights shining behind, in fact, no cars at all, just these odd men standing on my porch.

"Commander?" The one in front asked.

I had to think on that one. In one of the dimensional time lines I had explored I had achieved that rank. In the other two, I only survived or was born in three out of a possible eleven, I had been converted to the CIA right after Vietnam. All I could do was nod. I remembered there was a lot weird on the 'Commander' track. Including a new constitution after the second Civil War caused by the winning of the Vietnam War. Long story that. Had to do with trade deals with China and the Federation of Soviet and European States. Nixon felt so good about himself he declared himself King. The rest was a mess.

"May we come in?"

"Certainly!" I waved them in. All three stiffly sat on the edge of the chairs they choose. " I hope that we can be civilized about whatever this is about. I have not had a good evening so far."

The first one spoke. " We are sorry for your loss. However don't you think that being rid of that self serving, cheating little tramp is the best thing for you?"

The other two nodded their agreement.

"That may be so…I just hadn't had time to come to that conclusion. I sort of liked having her around. I was still at the blaming Peter for her infidelities." I said.

The second man sitting in a chair by the fireplace leaned back, crossed his legs, showing white sox, and laced his fingers around the one knee and added his thoughts.

"She is after all passive aggressive and taking all your money would imply that she had a value established, in her mind, for what ever services she had provided you. We only have the street menu value for such activities, which by the way has not changed proportionately since Roman times; she is also a thief. If you told yourself the truth she wasn't that enthusiastic. I don't think Peter had much influence on her at all. She intends to finance him in a musical career. There is an eighty-eight percent probability that she will succeed. Peter is quite talented and special. You of course did not notice. If it matters- he had honest feelings for you and he will experience some separation anxiety. Also, She will try to pay you back but because of your unique abilities she will be unable to find you. The money will be held in trust should you at a later date in this timeline choose to collect."

The third stood up and went into the kitchen, opening cupboard doors and the fridge. He turned and walked to the front door left and just as soon as he had closed the door opened it again pushing in a grocery cart full of bags into the kitchen and began emptying the bags onto the counter.

"I hope you don't mind we have traveled a long way…" He grinned stiffly. "… and you haven't eaten since Santa Barbara. I have eggs, bagels, cream cheese, strawberry jam, sliced ham, oranges from your trees, and good strong coffee."

"Sounds good!" I said aloud 'Feed me before they torture me.' I thought.

Coffee was served with a gourmet creamer I knew wouldn't be on grocery shelves for decades- vanilla-nut. I didn't need to ask.

"The one in front of me smacked his lips and purred at the coffee. " I love this stuff." He put his mug down and turned to the kitchen. Both the other men were hard at work on breakfast. "Commander, how many jumps have you made? I ask that as a rhetorical question. You have effected 11 time lines and jumped 300 times. We are here to tell you that your work has made Earth a relatively safe place. All star races that would seek dominance over this planet know of you and fear you being a problem for them. Now, having said that, don't feel to good about yourself. We know about you and we are not so concerned.' WE' can always find you."

I got it at that moment.

"Good, let's eat."

We all sat around the table and ate and smacked our lips and purred. When we were done. I turned to the view of the ocean.

"Tides roll in and tides roll out. It's the way of the ocean. What I know is that you try to be menacing and I know that you are dangerous creatures. I have heard of you - later on. But you can not harm me in any way. You are asking for an agreement before the deal is presented. Find me when you are ready for the deal. I thank you for a lovely conversation and a fine meal. I know you have informed the Feds of my whereabouts and I'm out of here."

I left and went to my shop in Bakersfield two years later. The Leprechaun was waiting for me.

"Well me boy…did the men in black give you a scare?"

I stared at him in disbelief then slowly remembered his involvement in my life. He was always around giving advice whether I wanted it or not. I would forget our meetings within hours. I even tried to kick his ass, once, but couldn't.

"Irish whiskey in the cupboard over by the hoist." I smiled.

"Now there is the hospitality I would expect." He climbed off the stool and went to the cupboard. He poured two large glasses and handed one to me. He lifted his glass to me. "Tis said that no mortal can have- what we of the realm have- yet here stands one that moves about the realms of creation with foolish abandoned. 'Tis why, Saints preserve us, I love his reckless soul. The devil be a full chase, Angels make their wagers on the winner, and the Lord but look and laugh. Drink down the spirit of my land and know I will have your back." He sloshed back the whole glass and poured another. " Where to now me boy?"

I sat and stared at the glass and swallowed. I was tired and lonely again.

"Can you make me forget that I can do what I do?"

"Yes, and I'm glad you have come to that. Will you have it be done?"

I stared at the little green dressed man and chuckled. Sometimes reality is just too weird.

"Yes- make me forget!"

I forgot everything.

***

I died.

I had taken my bike off the road on a flying lesson, unsuccessfully, down into a wooded canyon up on the Kern River. I was lying there horribly aware, broken, bleeding from every place on my body. There were things on the outside that should have been on the inside. I was in agony, I looked up annoyed, a bright light was interfering with my tragic, lonely, and wished for, demise. An angel was sitting cross-legged from me, wings spread, staring at me, with a very vexed look. I said I was dying and if his pretty boy, delicate-self had come to take me to paradise, I suggested, between bloody coughing spells, that given who I was, he might have made a mistake.

When he spoke it was almost singing, in a lilt more beautiful than I had ever heard, it was almost too much.

"Are you in pain?" He asked

"Well, I think a bit of my lower neck… isn't." I could not restrain some amount of anger at the stupidity of the question and my impossible situation.

"I don't think calling me names is relevant to the situation and I don't have a sex. So thinking of me as a pretty boy and a homosexual is stupid. God made us beautiful and as clever as we need to be. I asked the not-stupid question because I can take the pain away but you must stay still, for a bit, so that you won't further injure yourself. By the way you should ask me if I am from the Lord God. I could be from the opposition."

I nodded, did as he suggested, and he kept his word. He got up still shinning bright in the waning light of the sun.

"Your machine, a '46 Indian Chief, 74 cubic inch… wasn't it? It doesn't look repairable. I'm good at humans but not metal. Were you drinking? I understand that drinking and driving one of those is dangerous."

"No, one of the rare times that I was straight. Figure that huh?"

"I'd know if you were drinking. I couldn't talk to you, you would deny me and you would stay dead. I did it, you know? I caused you to crash."

"You wrecked me?" I wasn't in pain at that point. "How is that right?"

"You an expert on right?" That shut me up. "God says do it, I do it. He said spill you and mess you up. That was done so you would listen. Will you?"

"I have not consider myself Christian for some time. I figured I'd end up in the other place."

"True your recent life has not exemplified the Christian ideal but you gave your life and soul to the Lord when you were six. You have done some good things. God tends to give his errant wanderers a bit of latitude."

"I don't remember much of my life!" I coughed blood.

"I'm going to give you the gift and if you promise to keep your sinning on at least a modest human level, I'll heal you."

I agreed but I believe I was coerced.

He stood and spread its huge brilliant white wings; the sight took my breath away. I had never seen anything so incredible and beautiful. Then there was a pop and he was gone. I felt bad, not a usual feeling for me, I wanted to apologize for the pretty boy thing.

I felt bruised and tried to stand. I checked my wounds and breaks. I was whole. I was covered in blood but I was whole.

I started up a path toward the road; my breath was taken for a moment, as if I had dove into an icy stream.

Immediately I noticed that everything was different. There was more plant life than there should be. Everything was oddly organized to the eye, a garden planted by an insane put concerned landscaper. The sun light dropped down from the forest canopy in church-like streams. I walked upward for a mile or so, with each step the forest became more dense and awe inspiring. I came to a remarkable place, a large rock cantilevered out over a verdant canyon cut by a wild free running river. All I could do was look and listen to this life-giving wilderness and simply watch the day go by. A witness to the unfolding of creation.

It rained washing my blood away and rainbowed and rained a bit more. I napped and awoke at dusk. I turned to see a leprechaun sitting next to me. An impossible memory of me fighting this very same creature swirled through my mind.

"Where you been, you pussyboy? I haven't seen you for awhile."

I had lost the fight.

"How are you Duane?" I knew his name.

"Things pretty much go here the same. Did you bring any?"

I checked my vest. There was a pint bottle of Old Crow in the inside pocket. How it came to be there, I had not a clue.

"Yep, forgot I had it, but you have to stop calling me pussyboy. That was an unfair fight."

"What was unfair? And you are a pussyboy. I never heard so much whining and bitching in my life. 'Unfair! Unfair!' If you don't know how to fight why start one?"

"You took me up in the air! You beat me silly. I had no footing."

"Still whining, sissy? I didn't hear any rules. You’re the one said no rules."

"Okay fair enough but you beat the shit out of me. I have a bottle but don't down it all in one blast. Let's take our time and enjoy it."

I looked at the label on the bottle and discovered it was not Irish whiskey. It should be Irish Whiskey not Old Crow. I wished it to be Irish Whiskey at its very best.

"People out there see you riding and are terrified… hide their daughters and such. You long haired freak you needed a beating."

"Who's a freak?"

"I'm tougher than you. Thanks for changing the bottle. I only drank that other stuff when I was forced to be around that other lot. My, what mischief they have been about since you left them. They miss ya don't ya know. I have your money…Just ask me for it wherever ya be and I'll send it right along. I told you they wouldn't cheat ya."

Duane, I seemed to remember, had a taste for fine Irish spirits. He said that Ireland is where most of the portals are and it had been a long time since any Irishman believed enough to open one. Never mind the courtesy of having a bottle of fine sipping whiskey, born of water from the Emerald Isle, a-carried with him. Somehow I knew - I 'fixed' the booze. I could do things, strange things now and then, mostly to keep me out of trouble. But I had no idea as to what he was referring to.

"All right, you are tougher than me."

"Damn right. I'm a kick ass s.o.b…" He stopped and looked at me with wet eyes. A tear ran down his cheek. "I can't hold down the memories much longer. They are a burden to me Lad. You will know and then all will be different. You will have to be responsible not an easy thing for you."

"What in the world are you talking about. Lets make the bottle last. The first sip is for my Saintly, dear departed, Irish mother." I uncapped the bottle and took a swig, pretending to not be affected by what Duane had said. I was truly rattled by his words.

"Right. I was a bit greedy last time. It was a shame on me, for as you know we folk abhor any one who is at all greedy. Will ya allow me?"

I looked at the bottle wondering how it had survived the crash, and handed it to him. He sniffed it loudly and sighed, then he took a small bit and let it roll on his tongue. I expected him to swallow it all down but he didn't. He handed me the bottle.

"Angel, me lad!" I remembered my nickname that came from my death encounter. I was getting confused. "You are a gentleman for certain. Thank you for remembering."

He shifted, a disturbing habit, when he was content. I was now looking at a much uglier leprechaun. I took a swig.

"May I ask you something?" He nodded as I handed him the bottle. " Why do you shape shift like that?"

"It's not my doing. 'Tis yours. We have no shape except what the seer gives us."

"What about the Angel?" I sipped and handed back the bottle. "The Angel that put me back together."

"Oh, now there's a thing. I can take on the look of an Angel, sure, but should you invoke me with the Lords name. Alas, I must become smoke or take on the shape of a deeper thought within ya. 'Tis the rule and we must not break it for our peril. I, for one, will not spend my eternity with that dark one. Now he's tough." He took a deep draught and sighed again." You are a blessed man, Angel, and that’s for sure. That one, who patched you up, was a true member of the choir. Now there be an honor sure. Shhhh!"

He pointed across the chasm at a troop of scaled demons stomping through the rough brush, pointing and cursing us.

"Pay no attention to those. Do you remember them in Nam?"

"No…" Just then, a memory, I was walking out of the cave and was watching all the insane men running from me. Off to my left were six green scaled man things growling low at me in a threatening way. I had killed some of them in the cave. I sent them back deep into the tunnels below me and gave them no more thought till the Stones concert.

"Oh yeah…I remember now. I can move around-sort of in time and space can't I?"

"Aye, I gave you a few years of peace but I couldn't hold it back forever.'

"Thanks for that!"

The memories flooded in- Not all pleasant. I was not a good man neither was I a bad one. Judging someone with these powers, as I knew I possessed would be difficult. The ends can justify the means if you can see the results of all your actions. To act when one should or not act when one shouldn't became a game. Morality and ethics are born from the ignorance of the future. If you know the future such traits are meaningless dwelling on them useless. It was evil. My adversaries kept me honest."

"About the men in the black suits…have no fear of them. You called it right. When they have an offer they will present it. Your politeness and willingness to break bread with them was well received. You are quite liked in many circles."

"Are they your folk?" I asked.

"Hard to say. Could be a blend…like the scaly ones - part us - part something else. There is a whole universe of possibilities out there. You had a look once. I guess you'll start remembering more of that soon enough. You are a good man … don't treat yourself to harshly for some of the ugliness you will remember. Wars are probably inevitable but best if not prolonged. You have sped up many. Think on how many more would have died if not for your intervention. "

We spent the night talking mostly nonsense. You don't get deep thoughts from Faerie folk, but you do get prospective. It's why those who run governments value their input.

In the morning he was gone. I walked toward the road wondering on my odd life.

Time had become distorted. I had a memory of the evening's ride and going into a saloon. One that I liked - up here in the woods, and had a couple beers. They called me Angel in there, a place for bikers to party and unwind. There was a girl in one of those gauzy hippie dresses sitting at the end of the bar. The dress did not hide her knockout body. Her black hair was in long ringlets down her back and she looked at me with the most startling come-hither green eyes. There was no mistaking the look and the intent behind it. I wondered why no one else had hit on this beauty, this goddess? She came up to me and asked me to hold her tight and dance, slowly. We did, all night. She said 'I am for you!' I fell in love.

Then I remembered hitting the branch and flying through the air… dying. I couldn't have been in that bar it never happened.

I came out of my reverie a bit saddened. I looked up and there seated on a rock was a tiny Fairy. She saw me and rose into the air on violet blurred wings. She flew to my shoulder and her little voice sang to me.

"You will meet your one true love." She flew away as fast as a hummingbird.

She looked familiar to me.

I put my hand in front of me looking for the cold that designated the opening into the other world. My fingers splashed into something that caused water-like ripples in the air. Would I forget again? I stepped through into the dull and faded 'real' world. It didn't take long to find my bike. The Angel apparently called another Angel who was good with machines. My Indian beauty was better than before its ill-advised flying lesson. I straddled, sat and sighed in contentment. I could keep my sinning to a human level. Hell! I had my ass kicked by a leprechaun. I'll even try a little humility.

The engine started by itself and purred in a way I had never heard before. A sweet piston banging voice in my head said 'Where to?'

I smiled. Nothing surprised me now. "Let's go find that bar."

"I know that place - there is a wonderful women waiting for you there. She is one like you. She found another craft like yours in Peru at a dig. She buried the whole ship next to the stuff you buried in the coal. Poor girl has been on the run ever since. It's an easy ride up the mountain - will take us about an hour. Unless you just want to be there! I can do that too."

"Let's take it slow my new friend. I'd like to enjoy the ride. Your engine sounds great. You look beautiful." Flattery never hurts.

"Thank you,  how nice of you to notice. Good idea! She knows you are coming. Her Harley told her about you. She will wait. After all, time is not an issue for the two of you."

"I gotta tell you this is cool! Do you have a name?"

"Time enough for that...I consider myself female although I have no equipment to prove it."

"Can you sense trouble if it's coming our way?"

"As long as the two of you are near me and Jimmy... that's her bike's name...we'll keep you safe. We two have a lot of 'skills' and the two of you will make a life together. Keep each other right …if you know what I mean? You do have a lot of people and  critters interested in the two of you. Good and bad."

"Let's not worry about them right now, trouble will find me. Right now I need a cold beer and good company."

My brand new friend purred his agreement and took the mountain like it was as flat as the Arizona desert.

He told me all about my one true love and some creeps due to arrive in 2012.

End

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