The Secret - Chapter Five

At last The Secret is told. I thank all of you for sticking through this. It has been a journey of love for me, and frankly, I'm damned proud of it. I hope you enjoy it. And if you don't well, dang!

  

The Secret

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Chapter Five

 

I am home now, alone in my “office.” I use quotes around it, because we know it isn’t really an office. It is the mudroom. I have a table with a fairly new plywood top. There is a scorch mark on the floor below the table. There is a bare bulb hanging from an old cord attached to the ceiling. I do have a computer upon the table now, used almost exclusively for writing, as I am doing now. I have replaced my wooden stool with a sturdy, yet comfortable, office chair. I have a window that has a screen with a small tear near the bottom that I will never fix. It is, after all, much more than a tear, and that makes me smile.

My wife, Lorraine, knows to leave me be when I am in here. This is where I write. It is also a place where I sometimes entertain company, so she does not disturb me. It has no marble, or mahogany. There is a short, cheap wooden table to my right where my coffee cup sits, and a second hand filing cabinet in the corner. I have a closeup picture of a bug on the wall behind me. You can probably guess what kind of bug it is. It is not autographed. Ha ha. That’s a joke.

What is not a joke is a tree I can see through the window, far down the slope behind our house. Actually, all I can see of it is the top, for it is the largest tree in this neck of the woods. It is an Oak tree, a Live Oak, about eighty feet tall. My wife and I often go there to sit in the crook of its lowest branch to admire the moon. I also spend a good deal of time there alone. For a while, I entertained company there, but no more. That time has ended -- perhaps.

But now, this time is for you, my Reader. I owe you the last of my tale. You need to know what happened, you want to know the secret. And so you shall have it.

  

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Before King G, Blae, and I parted ways, we made a plan on how best to proceed. I knew that I could not just go to the authorities and tell them about sentient June Bugs. They would lock me up where I would have the pleasure of speaking with all kinds of people who spoke to all kinds of critters, and I would never see my sweet Lorraine or beautiful, bright Zenobia (my daughter) again. I guess I should tell you MY real name, too. It’s not “Tex” -- or even “Randy”. It’s … something else. Hey, I kinda like being a little mysterious.

Finally, I made the first move, a simple one: a letter, A short message on paper, to the Governor of Texas, asking him to please look out the window of his mansion at midnight on a certain night,  at a certain time, and look toward Zilker Park, specifically to the large field there where concerts were sometimes held, close to the river. He would, I said, be greatly rewarded. Of course, I did not think he would aceed to my wishes, but he surely would have someone watch for what I told him to expect -- at the exact moment I said to expect it. Then I wrote a second letter with a similar message, and a third. And finally, a fourth. I was taking no chances. The second was, again, addressed to the Governor; I assumed that he would read this one. The third and fourth were addressed to the Governor with copies to our two state Senators, who were members of the two major political parties in Texas. These last two letters made mention of the two previous letters to the Governor. All of these epistles bade the addressees to look to various locations at a certain time on different nights. Finally, I made copies of all of these letters and sent them to the major newspapers and magazines operating in Central Texas. If I was certain of anything, it is that something important would happen. Oh, yes indeedee.

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Let’s go back a bit. I can’t just jump to the end of the story, now can I? It wouldn’t be fair to you, the Reader, it wouldn’t be fair to me, the author -- and it certainly wouldn’t be fair to the Phyllophaga Potentiator tribe, my friends in the forest. Here’s what happened there near the end of my visit and thereafter:

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King G. took me back in time; how far is impossible to tell. He does not know and there is no other to ask. There was no TV or movie magical gimmick involved. One moment I was in the throne room with G and Blae and then I was nowhere: a white place. White everywhere. No up or down, no gravity or even air. Then before I could feel fear, I was looking down at a pool --  a slowly bubbling pool and a stream that flowed into it from a hazy point that disappeared into the wall of a dark, stony cave. I floated above this pool -- and the stream; I could move through the scene, but for only a short distance that varied by the force of thought generated by the mind of King G. It was very odd and disconcerting for a moment. It was a bit like putting on one of those video headsets that fits over the eyes -- and you suddenly find yourself in another world you cannot touch.

I could hear G as well, that massive basso profundo voice worked as a narrator of the past, his tribe’s past, beginning from this quiet, calming pool of fresh, clean water that sparkled with a heavenly light. My breath caught in my throat, my heart leaped in my chest, and my mind expanded to take in the sheer beauty and majesty of this simple yet breathtaking scene that was laid out before me. The only sound at first was the slow bubbling of the water, and just that single, beautiful sound was enough to entrance me for hours. Then King G spoke.  To make things easier for you, the Reader, I have corrected his ‘Junie’ speech to standard American English.

“T, you are in the presence of our beginning, far beneath the earth somewhere in Texas. This pool below is the source of fooch, the maker of Phyllophaga Potentiator, the most advanced species of life on Earth!” boomed King G. To just me, I thought, Perhaps I’ll leave that declaration out of any report I give to the authorities. They might act … hastily.

Then I saw people, naked, but covered lightly in dust. They carried what I knew were June Bugs, hands full of barely moving June Bugs. Their charges seemed much too large, bigger than any of King G’s tribe -- then I realized, no; the people carrying them were small, much smaller than anyone I had seen before, but perfectly featured, and very beautiful.  Slowly, gently, one by one, they lay their almost dead beetles in the bubbling pool.

Time sped up, or rather, the memory did, manipulated by the King. He did not narrate, except when it was absolutely needed for some clarification, and he slowed for those portions of his "show." Speech, even just by thought, was too difficult for him, too emotional. I knew it was hard for him because it was hard for me as well.

I watched what seemed, for a while, a silent horror show. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I saw people, MY people shrink to almost nothing -- while the beetles grew strong, larger, healthier than they had ever been. Finally, the tiny humans trudged to the edge of the pool, dozens of them of all the colors that humans are now. Then, as one, they looked at me, ME! But no, I knew they looked at G, or the young Phyllophaga that G had come from very long ago, and they smiled, and waved. They were surrounded by June Bugs, brown ones, black ones, iridescent green ones, even one white one, and they were singing some old, old song that seemed familiar to me -- but I could not place it. All present there, all species there, were singing that same tune, and I began to hum it with them. So beautiful!

And then it stopped. As one, the tiny people waved goodbye, then jumped into the sparkling pool. None of them surfaced. All were washed away down the stream, and bursts of light erupted from the pool and the stream and lit the cave in waves of brilliant colors that flashed and pulsed in time to the music that G’s ancestors had continued to sing long after their creators had left.

“Yes,” the King said quietly. "They were our creators, for before they saved us, we were just… tissue, juices, nothing more than our unchanged sisters and brothers of today. They created a mighty race, my friend. My … brother." The memory faded and dissolved into a colorless mist that wafted away -- and we were back in the throne room. For an unknown length of time, there was silence.  I could hear the sounds of birds singing somewhere outside, and other creature noises, but all was quiet in the throne room.

I paced for a while, then sat upon a large, study chair, built for me from grass and young branches that gave just a little when I plopped into it. “That was incredible, King G,” I said quietly.

“Yes, it was,” the King replied. “And ‘G’ will do just fine, T.”

I smiled. “Of course, my friend. Of course.”

“Tex,” said the King, and I perked up. He rarely called me by anything but “T” now, so I knew this was something he considered important. “I have noticed that in your thoughts, you generally refer to my people as, ‘June Bugs,’ yes?”

Now I was nervous. Uh oh, I thought to myself, did I just step in something? I must have been careless with that, because the King had obviously heard me.

“No, T, all is good. I just need to ask you to make a small correction when you speak of us.”

“Uh, ooookaaay,” I said.

G chuckled then leaned forward on his throne. “You see, the term, ‘June Bug’ is a human name for us. It is not what we call ourselves.”

“Oh!” I said, “Of course!” I smacked my right palm hard on my forehead. “I should have known that! All this time and I’ve been insulting you! Oh, my God!”

“Well, fronkly, you haven’t done it often, and it’s almost always when you’re thinking to yourself. You’ve gotten very good at the ‘thought thinking’ as you call it, but sometimes you do, um ,,, ‘leak’ a bit.”

“I see.” I didn’t dare correct him now for the ‘fronkly.’ “So, should I say ‘Phyllophaga’ um ‘Poetator’ all the time?”

“Ha, ha!” He tried to lightly burst my mental eardrums in retaliation for mangling their name. “Oh, no, hee hee, please don’t do that!” He chuckled some more and I grew more relaxed. “No, T,” he continued. “Fronkly, we find it to be quite a uh, ‘mouthful,’ too.” I fought hard to contain a grin, but I just had to smile a bit. G didn’t notice what it was for and continued his point. “We decided to ‘shorten’ it a bit -- like you and Blae and I have done with our names, he said brightly -- then realized it was not actually for the same reason. He caught that I caught it, too, and he decided just to continue. “So, uh, we thought, ‘Potent Junies’ would work, but the young ones quickly changed that to ‘JuniePots,’ all one word, and it has stuck.” He looked at me for a response, and I knew that if he had eyebrows, they would be up, along with a big smile.

“’JuniePots’!” I cried, “Why, that’s just perfect! I love it” I think I was dancing up and down and clapping my hands.

“All good then?” I hadn’t noticed that Blae had been ushered into the room by a very large JuniePot. Gosh, that was nice! I thought.

“We’re just honky dory,” said G, and I burst out laughing.

“What?” said G. What, that wasn’t right?”

“Almost, G. It’s hunky, not honky.  There’s a big difference, one I don’t even want to try to explain, not now.” I wondered if I should talk to him about “fronkly,” too, but decided to skip it.

“Oh, okay. I’ll try to remember that.” G paused, and it became a long, but not uncomfortable silence. Finally, going back to the time leap backward he had taken me on, he said, “What did you think of the colors?”

I practically leaped from my chair. “Oh, my God, they were incredible! I’ve never seen such beautiful colors! That was the best light show I’ve ever seen!”

“Good,” G said. “Would you like to see more?”

“Of course!” I’m pretty sure I might have been jumping up and down and clapping my hands again.

“Let’s go outside,” said G. With that he motioned to an attendant and said something to him I didn’t hear because it wasn’t meant for me. Minutes later, the three of us were outside at the edge of some kind of circle, or oval really, about ten yards long and five wide where the grass within appeared to have been trampled until it lay flat and almost dead. At each end of the long part stood two gigantic JuniePots (I was really liking that name!). They were both about six inches tall and heavily armored, all natural, it appeared. I had never seen such, uh, “buff,” Junies (I shortened that myself and thought the King wouldn’t mind, as long as I said it that way only to myself. You, the Reader, don’t count. Nobody knows about you except me, and I’m not telling anyone within these pages!).

The King raised his sceptre (yeah, of course he had a sceptre, he’s royalty, isn’t he? Geez, I hadn’t mentioned that before because it really wasn’t important, and he rarely used it anyway.) I was grinning ear to ear. I knew I was about to witness something rare and beautiful. Suddenly, the King swung his sceptre down and both of those majestic brawny Junies took off -- toward each other! Oh, my God! And CRASH! They collided, head to head! And when they did it made a terrific BOOM! That echoed for miles, I’m sure. But something else happened, too! At the moment their heads met, there was a tremendous flash of light! Bright white filled the air around us, and blues and reds and purples and every possible combination of colors you could ever imagine jumped to twenty feet above us! They weaved and danced among each other and around all who were watching! Even the nearby trees were made part of the show; the colors slipped between their leaves and branches, illuminating them as they passed! Oh, it was the most magnificent thing I had ever beheld! Those colors actually slid around me! They caressed my cheeks and ran magically through my hair like the fingers of angels! I fell to my knees and actually cried! Oh, not big sobs, but tears were actually shed. It was not possible to keep them inside my eyelids!

A long silence passed. Then I heard the King beside me say, “So, I gather you liked the show.”

I looked at him, tears still wet upon my cheeks. ‘How can you say that? How can you not come up with something majestic to say! You’re a King, damn it! Say something Kingy!”

G laughed, not too loud, in deference to the destruction he could cause at full blast. “Okay. How about, ‘Wow’?” He chuckled again. “I’m glad you liked it, T. I thought you might.”

“My God, that’s like saying, ‘I thought you might like that juicy bit of perfectly cooked prime rib you just gobbled down’ to a starving man!” I have never seen anything like that, G, and no one else has either! Wow! Just Wow!”

“Good,” he said, “then we have something else to talk about.

And we did talk, for a long time after that, with Blae chipping in from time to time. The three of us went to and fro in our discussion, and plans were made. Afterward, drinks and juicy balls of something for which I didn’t ask their lineage were offered all around; and I partook of them greedily, even the too-sweet drinks. I was famished! I did not however, have another beer. I was not going to be driving afterward, but I would be flying, and I did not wish to give my friends and associates a show that might rival the happy memories we had just made.

And now I am home, have been for a while. I am with my sweet Lorraine, the love of my life, and my beautiful daughter, Zenobia, the triumph of my life, who no longer hates me; of course, she never did, but she might have thought so for a while, and neither I nor her mother blame her for that. After all, we did lie to her about the “Patriotic June Bugs” that were so worried about fireworks starting forest fires that they tried to replace them with their own colorful, explosive displays. Funny, huh?

Lorraine says hello, and she wants me to be sure to tell you she was never the harridan I portrayed her to be. That was just a “literary device,” a sort of “foil” for my bumbling -- and all of that was real. It is true that, for a while, I wasn’t all that bright.

I got an email today from the Governor, and one more each from our two senators, not to mention the ones from the media. I guess I should give at least some of them a phone call. They all want to know about the incredible fireworks displays that have been going off at midnights over Zilker Park and other places. They also want to know why there has been no debris from those fireworks falling from the sky. They marvel that no fires have popped up anywhere as a result. They think this can be a boon everywhere in drought stricken areas -- and just any place that doesn’t want to catch on fire. Plus, it’s an incredible show unlike anything ever seen before  -- and the people are going nuts to know!  First, though, I’m going to go sit with my wife under our big Live Oak for a while. I plan to inspect it carefully while we are there. A little, uh, "birdie," whispered in my ear that some kind of sparkly liquid had been leaking from it for years and running down that big fat limb I have been sitting on now and again . The voice said It might lead me to think I can talk to bugs. What a lot of hooey, huh?

   

THE END

  

Author's Note

Well, that's all, folks! I do hope you liked it. And if you didn't well, visualize my face: my tongue is sticking out, and I am blowing a very rude noise right at you. Good. Feel better? I know I do. Perhaps you will like better, "The Ongoing Adventures of Tex and Blae-Lok," if and perhaps when, they come.

Thanks to all my readers.

FlatDaddy

Reviews

[Emunah June.]

This is the most thrilling conclusion!! Oh! My heart! The laughter, the joy, the wonder that I felt! Oh, parting is such sweet sorrow, especially when it comes to this most fascinating dynamic duo.

The secret was so worth the wait, and the reveal was exceptional. Even as I was reading, I allowed myself to feel all the stages of sorrow in saying goodbye to such a dazzling adventure even as I was reading. I found myself even slowing down just so I could savor the moment longer. But oh! The lights! The display! All of it truly captured my heart, and while the ending was such sweet sorrow, the story was amazing from start to finish.

You have done an exceptional thing, my friend: you've created characters that are both believable and loveable. I was on the edge of my seat for so long to see what this secret was, and more importantly, how it would affect my dear friends Tex and Blae-Lok, that throughout the course of the adventure I found myself relating to them and pulling them close in multile ways. Losing them is bittersweet, but to have known them was a wonderful honor.

I appreciate this gift you have created for all of us here, Keith, and I cannot wait to see what the future has in store for these wonderful creations of yours. A solid, fantastic read. Thank you.

[FlatDaddy]

As Tex wouls surely say, Emmy, "Wow."
Thanks you so much. You have become a very dear friend through this contrivance of writing, readin reviewing and sharing. I could not have done this without you, for you were the sparkand the inpetue that kept me going. You have only a small amount of knowledge regarding who I am and what I have been through. WC, my writing, and most especially, this book has revialized me, my life and my work. Prior to this, for the previous twenty plu years, I was a sad, morose person who only half functioned. I had lost my purpose and my love of life. Long ago, I was a fun-loving, guy with much to say and do. I lost

[FlatDaddy]

sorry, for some reason i got cut off and onlt part of what I want to say got posted. As I was saying, I lost everything when I was injured and spent most of my time in bed, speaking with no one. Things have changed now and I only hope I can make good use of the time I have left. I'll be 78 in October, so there isn't much left. Thank you for giving me the chance to make something of it.

Keith