Chapter 2B3: The Elder 69

Chapter 2B3: The Elder 69 

Then the Elder 69 took me to a room. It was absolutely empty and ordinary looking. The Elder 69 announced, “Here your training begins.”  

Serge chuckled and said, “Ah, yeah right.” 

The Elder 69 raised his staff and said, “Ovun elsion nator.” I heard a dull sounding squeal and simultaneously, foliage started spurting out of the floor. The ceiling turned into the sky, and I felt as if I was outside. The Elder 69 explained that this was Argania Fontana (which stands for Old  Argania). He went on to explain that this was the Arganian Forest when he was young, in the year 32-Anra (or four thousand Earth years ago).  

Serge said, “Gee, it looks the same to me.” The Elder went on to say that the foliage never dies, but the animals change evolutionarily every three Planos (years). Serge said, “Oh, I’m in a time portal. I saw this in a Star Trek episode.” 

“No, this is an illusion made from my mind. The purpose of the illusion was to see how you would react in certain situations. Enough, on with the procedure.” No sooner did he say this, that a horrible roar came from behind us. A large purple dragon with wings and a serpent like tail was charging at us. The Elder said, “Pull out your sword.” 

I said, “What sword?” 

From my side he pulled a sword out of  a scabbard. Inscribed on it was an elongated 714.  

The Elder said, “Here, now swing it over your head.” I took the sword and did just that. The dragon miraculously stopped and went in front of me as though I should pet it. I looked at the Elder 69 in astonishment. He told me, “She is yours.” 

“It’s a her?” I replied in shock. 

The Elder 69 said, “Yes, only the female of the species can fly. She will be obedient to your every command.” He told me to mount her because we were going to another sector to battle a giant Frums, a giant that looks like an ogre. A wizard out of revenge cast a spell on the Frums, making him evil. He went berserk and started raping the women, killing the men, and eating the children of its own people. I was supposed to kill him. By doing this, he’d come back to life, only he’d be normal. I never killed anyone before, but if this thing was doing what the Elder said it was doing, then I had no choice. 

I mounted the dragon and asked the Elder, “How do you drive this thing?” 

He answered, “Grasp the reigns tightly.” He got on behind me and soon we were high up. What a beautiful specter of colors above the sky! Rainbow colored clouds were being impaled by us and they felt like cotton candy. The land below us was lush, green, and fertile. Much like Earth eons ago, as depicted by the old dinosaur books I used to read as a child. Soon, we were at our destination. We dismounted and started walking towards a small village. There was blood all over the place; on the walls of the houses, on the trees, on the dirt. Small limbs were scattered everywhere. We heard the faint voices of children crying. They were hoarded around the high priest of the village and he indicated to us where the ogre was rampaging all through the Third Sector. The Elder and I proceeded to find our victim. After hiking one and a half miles, we decided to stop and eat. As I nibbled on a piece of fruit, a loud crash came from the left. I took my sword and it possessed me. I felt brave. I approached the beast. Boy, was it ugly! It had the face of a wild boar, intermixed with that of a gorilla. The body was that of an erect elephant. It stank of rotted meat, and it oozed fermented blood from its mouth.  

I yelled, “You’re dead, beast!” 

“Dead are you!” It roared. I tried to get close enough to it to get a stab at it. I jabbed it in the leg and it got angrier. The Frums yanked a tree from its roots and used it as a club. It swung the tree trunk, but missed because TMR retreated with a somersault 20 stories high. Before it could swing again, I thrusted my sword into its solar plexus. Spirits shot out of his eyes, ears, nose and mouth like fireworks. Out of the gaping hole I had made in the middle of its chest came a silver-blue flash of light that exploded backwards. Suddenly, the ogre was smaller in size and more docile, yet retained most of its power (mainly punching large rocks into dust and things like that) yet surprisingly, bowed on one knew and said, “I thank you for saving my village. My name is Adisaurai 13. I am now under your service.” 

Serge said, “Look man, just go help your people.” He thought to himself, I shouldn’t have acted that way for real but it happened unrealistically. I turned around and saw the Elder smiling absurdly and I asked, “This all happened in the same room?” 

The Elder replies dryly, “Of course.” 

“How did we have so much room? Couldn’t I have run into a wall or something with all that motion?” The Elder said that the room shrunk into a miniscule of what it was and floated into the universe of his mind. It was all an illusion and he had brought Serge into his mind. The mind is infinite, that’s why we could have walked, flown, time warped, etc. Serge asked, “So all this happened in your mind? The room with both of us?” 

The Elder simply said, “Your thoughts excel you. Enough with these childish antics. You are now to meet two of your companions.” We left the room and proceeded outside. It was afternoon. I could tell just by the way it felt. We went to a pub, sort of like a medieval inn. When the Elder walked in, I stayed outside. The Elder stopped without turning around and said, “Why won’t you enter?” 

I said, “I don’t have any I.D.” 

The Elder looked confused and said, “What’s I.D?” 

I said, “Identification  for being able to consume intoxicants.” 

The Elder said, “You forget this is not Earth. The inn is owned by your Uncle Angel 7.” So, I walked in. Inside there were video games, all types of simulators- from flight simulators to war games all set in a three-dimensional format. For example, one was shooting between mushrooms destroying a multi-legged creature called an Arganian Tri. The place was smoke filled and heavy metal music was being played. The interior reminded Serge of a Viking or a Nordic inn. It was dark, lit by oil lamps, and a fireplace. Ancient and dingy, it was still full of w****s- and it smelled of it too. There they were, dressed in blue-black leather, sipping brew: Ace, with long brown hair and a rugged mustache, a sincere and serious individual with an air of quietness around him. Art, the sneaky one, had his hair black as death like a grim reaper, his face hidden- obscured by monster hair. 

Now, let us not forget that heaven is blue...tomorrow the world! That’s a blue meanie of course, aye, John? 

Anyway, let’s resume back to the story. I hate these interruptions, don’t you? The two of them greeted Serge as though they had known him for a long time. Art decided to treat Serge to an ale. Yeah, good old Arganian ale. Ace said, “Here, TMR, have a ziggabutt.” The ziggabutt was brown and it looked more like a cigarette, but it had the intoxicating effect of angel dust. I told Art to forget about the money he had put down for the ale he had bought me. Serge said, “Hey Uncle, a round for everyone!” 

Dedication to the Elder 69 

‘Wish You Were Here’- The Pink Floyd song dedicated to Lee Bochman. Older brothers and sisters of the world, unite! Sorry, I lost it again. I apologize for this conduct. I don’t blame you if you just throw the book into the fire or into the garbage (but I know you won’t). Lee was a pretty cool dude (and he still is). 89=17, 20=10, 61=7. So Lee was born in 1961. 19=10 and 61=7, so when he was born, he was seven in Arganian numeration. That’s why Lee was one of the best friends I ever had, till this day he calls me Bro. He was 28 at the time this part was being written. This was written Memorial Day 1989. The year TMR came back (you’ll understand that later). While watching the Peanuts go through time, it’s World War II in Flander’s Field. Lunus recites in poppy field. Yeah, it was a real trip, Lee. The whole thing. Lee (or Drugs, or better yet, Elder 69) was usually the oldest in the group. He wasn’t starved for leadership, instead he was a collaborator. 

The concept of the Arganian Forest was created by Serge (TMR 714). The concept is a bit intricate and cannot be explained fully, for it is myth. This little part will be dedicated to Elder 69. The symbol 69 is the balance of man and woman, the dark side and light side, evil and good, hard and soft- to put it simply, Yin Yang. Lee wore a leather jacket with dirty sex pins all over it. Hanging with Lee was outrageous. We usually wound up getting wasted, being with girls, and just plain having a good time. Serge met Lee shortly before his little accident. After that accident, Serge had recovered miraculously. After two weeks he lost ten pounds and his hair was jet black. It was hard for anyone to understand, but they became used to it. One day Serge and Lee were down The Field when something strange happened. Serge’s straight black hair turned brown and curly, and it looked like Paul Stanley’s hairdo at the time. Lee’s pants were holey-er than thou’s. He wore worn out GO HILLS boots. 

“You should get a patch of blond on the side.” Lee said, “And I’ll get a patch of black on mine.” (Lee was blond). Then came Lee’s psychedelic Martian. The Arganian Thorn. The time we couldn’t find weed and we asked a cat and the cat meowed ‘no’. Man, things were  tough all over. The Clash, Aerosmith, Kiss, and Sabbath kept it alive. That night we ran into a brother who was selling Gold, so we bought some, got some Malt Liquor and destroyed our brain cells some more. Beauties of course, came along for the ride. Although Serge had been almost dead a month ago, he still went out and partied. Suddenly, Serge is running down the field in slow motion. All that can be heard is ‘Absolutely Curtains’ by Pink Floyd. He sees Lee breaking a quart bottle and picking up a shard, pressing it to his wrist. He cries out, “F**k this life! I f*****g hate this life!” 

Serge yells out a distorted “Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh!” as he successfully kicks the chaff out of Lee’s hand, hurtling it into space. 

Everything froze. The Elder then said, “Hey Serge, you want a quart?” 

“A quart?” Serge replied, dumbfounded. (You’re dumbfounded too, huh?) 

“Colt 45.” The Elder replies, with a smile like a crazy Jack-O-Lantern, with long blond hair and a gaze of fire and power. We proceeded to the liquor store, copped a bag on the way over, and headed to The Field. An old soccer field that stands worn with age like the Roman Coliseum (or whatever it’s called). The once green field was sand ridden. Broken pieces of concrete had just broken through the ground. It was ‘kicking dude’- a term used back then in 1982 by local Metalheads. After passing Shop Rite, we approached the field behind the bowling alley called Columbia Lanes. A hole in the wall was the ticket to entering one of our hangouts. An upturned shopping cart was our step ladder, climb three seats down and just watch the sunset with the radio playing, either with two chicks or three or alone and shared experiences. Lee used to tell me of the wild things he did in the US Army. When he got his weekend pass, he went to Mexico to get weed and get laid.  

“Man, those burritos were f****n’ hot!” One time, Serge kicked a glass out of Lee’s hand, saving his life. Deja vu? Lee was a tank driver for the US Army. The Army could not hold him. Guess he was a little crazy, but it made great fodder for conversation to woo the girls as Serge surreptitiously got them drunk. We made a real cool team, like Ponch and Jon Baker of ‘CHiPS’. Anyway, once we were sitting, each of us drinking a quart of Colt 45 in the sweltering sun, Serge’s face all brownstoned.  

“Lee, this bottle is getting heavy.” The bottle slips out of Serge’s hand and they both watch the bottle fall to the ground in slow motion. It shatters and we both look up as Lee watches Serge stand there with his hand still in a fist and they both say, “Holy s**t!” Serge mumbles, “Come on, let’s go get another.” 

Lee gulps the last half of his bottle and says, “Yeah, let’s go.”   Night falls. 

“Let’s get some munchies at the Palace.” Serge suggested. 

“Sure.” Lee agrees. Video Palace was an arcade that had a small snack shop, and Serge’s friends worked there and was where the gang hung out. Wednesday was Quarter Day. Serge and Lee walk into Video Palace all strung out on Quaaludes. Since it was Quarter Day, all the food and beverages were a quarter. Lee asked for an order of fries and Serge got a slice of pizza. Pete the Beak served them both and made change for a dollar. Lee takes the salt shaker and empties it on the fries, followed by equal proportions of mustard and ketchup and dumps it into the garbage. Then he looks at Pete the Beak, pulls out his middle finger, and says, “F**k you, all right?” and walks out. Serge gets carried out by four people five minutes later, the pizza slice still in hand. Donna and Lisa Ryan along with Trisha and Marie Haley giggled at the antics of the two. 

Friday, after Serge came out of work, he went home, showered, dropped some money off for the old lady, and ran out the door. He paraded down Bergenline until he reached 39th Street and headed toward the park where he met Lee again, as planned. There were two other dudes hanging out with him. “What’s up, Drugs?” 

“Hey Serge, what’s up, man? Waiting for you. Hey these guys are Frank and Brian.” More like Mutt and Jeff, Serge thought. 

“How ya doing?” Serge said to them. 

Frank, with a pushy salesman pitch, says, “Hey, my name is Frank. I just came from Florida, but I grew up in West New York.” 

“Hey, I went to school in West New York. PS #2 and #5,” Serge said. 

Frank answered, “I went to #5, too.” 

“No f*****g way!” Serge exclaimed. “Hey, are you related to Davey Delgado?” 

“No, no, no! I used to call him Glips. One time I beat the living piss out of him, besides, my name is Frank James.” 

Brain walks over to Serge, shakes his hand, and very slowly says, “What’s happening, duuuude?” 

Serge sarcastically answered, “Ah, Quaaludes, right?” 

Lee chuckles and yells, “Let’s party!” Fall came. We became well attached and we went to form a party crew. The Dealers came and went.  

The Mutant took over and said, Alco-drgres. We drink, right? We smoke, sniff and pop. Never shoot up, so put it all together and Alka for drinking and Druggies for drugs, and you get Alkadruggies.” It was a sign of the times for the third and fourth dimensions. The Alkadruggies were a party crew that used partying as a religion. The motto was ‘we dedicate our lives to partying’. Nuclear war was imminent since the two super powers were in constant argument. We didn’t know if we were gonna live to see the future or if the future was going to be a world where anarchy ruled in a post nuclear war era. Not a bad excuse to party-aye? Serge turned to renegade mode, shaved the sides of his head, went to the highest point of the park and howled like a lone wolf as you hear the song ‘London Calling’ in the background. What does that have to do with Lee? Shut up, will ya? That isn’t till later anyway. 

 

One day on the castle grounds, TMR 714, The Elder 69, Ace 123156, and Art 666 stood around talking. Suddenly, reality folded. The Alkadruggies became one and the two dimensions collided. We lived in our own world, anarchy reigned. The Alkadruggies went to the Horseshoe to carry out some rituals. The Horseshoe was a pretty place. It was dubbed the Horseshoe because in ancient times, a giant horse had trampled upon a mountain and it left a shoe print behind. An ancient tribe built a cobblestone wall around the shape of the shoe print. It rained trickles of colored water that made a spectrum of colors. After a while of rituals, torches blazed and the Omeo Tribals came in. Ace and Art drew their axes, TMR his sword, and the Elder his staff. Ace jumps one of them and swings and cuts his throat clear off his shoulders. Another Omeo swings a club at his back and knocks his breath out as Art hacks the same one across his legs. Two more came, and TMR pulled out his sword and points it at one of them, disintegrating him instantly. Ace yells, “Wow! But now I must fight!” He hacks the Omeo with the cut leg in the back while TMR charged the other one.  

Ace gets up to defend himself, when the whole army of Omeo were there and the High Command said, “Arganians are not welcomed here.” 

“I was here first!” said the Elder 69. 

“Elder 69?” the High Command asked nervously. 

“Yes, I’ve been waiting for you.” 

“Retreat!” Yelled the High Command. The Elder raised his staff and the mountain crushed to the ground, leaving them suspended in midair. Fade to black... 

 

...Fade back and we were in the park as Lee said, “Let it be said that our enemies be crushed into the ground, even if it takes to crush a mountain!” 

Serge said, “Yeah. Hey, let’s go to Video Palace.” We went and hung out for a while and looked for girls and food. When you’re wasted and walk into a video arcade, it’s like, wow, what a trip! Just hungry, I guess. After the Palace, we got some beer and down the field they went. Three cases for four people. Nice deal. Girls came and went, loaded with goodies. People passing through with hits, beauties, and crystals as usual. Sometimes we’d buy, well, we did get some pretty nice hits. End of the night was upon us, and Forever Hill came. The exit from the field was a very steep hill that winded and when you were wasted, it seemed like it took forever to get to the top. It was easier than climbing back over the wall to the shopping cart. After that came the woods, then the cemetery and we’d break night or pass out- whichever came first. 

 

The Elder 69 was a bit perturbed when he had thought that his wisdom was at an impasse. He went to seek further knowledge from his father The Ancient One. He set out through the Wilderness of Forgetfulness until he reached the Shores of Alcohol. There, he met with Cliff the Ferryman. Cliff was a middle aged man dressed in a pink lace robe with falsies (fake t*****s) with a matching boa. Elder gave him a payment of lingerie for safe passage across the River Piss. When they got to the other side, the Elder disembarked and proceeded to climb The Black Diamond- a mountain made from trillions of empty Budweiser Tallboy cans. This was a very treacherous trip in that large tendrils of gold lightning ripped across the surface of the mountain from furious clouds above. Windstorms appeared out of nowhere. The Elder was unshaken by the fierce natural forces by reason of his stubborn decisiveness to reach his next goal. With sheer determination he reached the summit of the mountain. Exhausted, he sees two large metal doors about two stories high. In the middle of the doors are round door knockers, the size of an average human. The Elder sighs in frustration. 

“Unfuckingbelievable!” Just like in the phrase ‘open sesame’, both doors open and the Elder mumbles under his breath, “know better....m**********r. All this bullshit just tryin’ to get the f**k up here...” He finishes passing through the doors still mumbling, looks up and sees a stairway higher than the eye can see. “This better be f*****g worth it... f*****g take me a week to climb these damn steps... Unfuckingbelievable!” The doors close up behind him. “Yeah and don’t let the door hit you on the a*s on the way out. Stupid motherf...” The Elder slips, cutting himself off. He gets up and starts trudging up the stairs. The frail hand of the Elder reaches the top of the stairs. He crawls towards a throne that sits on a platform over pillars of beer kegs. Sitting majestically on the throne was The Ancient One. His head is bald and his face is riddled with age. His eyes appeared to show drunkenness for centuries. His toothless mouth accompanied by the licking of his lips and the snaking of his tongue inside his cheeks. 

“Whaddah ya want? What took you so fuggin long?” The Ancient One asked. 

The Elder shyly replied, “Hey Dad...” 

The Ancient One interrupts agitated. “Now I told ya once, I told ya a thousand times! Don’t call me that you f****n’ jerk!” 

The Elder bows his head and sarcastically chants, “I apologize... O’ Ancient One, can you tell me the meaning of life?” The Ancient One scratches his head, closes one eye, licks his lips, ponders for a moment, then sighs. 

“So, ya want the meaning of life? Ya want the meaning of life...huh? I dunno what the fu...the meaning of life. Meaning of life? Are you sure?” 

The Elder animatedly returned, “Yes. Yes! The meaning of life!” 

The Ancient One looked at the Elder seriously, rubbed his chin and replied, “Ok I’ll f****n’ tell ya... The meaning of life is...put it in your pocket and keep it there!”  

The Elder looked up at his father with great gratitude uttering “Thanks dad- for being there when I need you.” 

The Ancient One gets all fired up. “I f*****g told ya to call me Ancient One. Now ya fucked up for good. That’s it! I’ve had it! Get the hell out of here ya f*****g dummy! Oh yeah, by the way, get me a beer outta the fridge before you leave, will ya?” The Elder turned around slowly and made his way down the stairs as the laughter of The Ancient One echoed behind him. TMR, Art, and Ace were in the woods sharing a bottle of blackberry brandy. After an anticipated amount of time, the shadowy figure of The Elder  appears in the distance. 

“The Elder has arrived from the trip.” Art announces. 

Ace quips, “No duh!” as TMR chuckles. 

As The Elder approaches, TMR asks him, “So what did the old man have to say?” 

The Elder frowned his lips and replied, “He just said put it in your pocket and keep it there.” 

Everyone else in astonishment chorused, “Wow, that’s deep!” 

Reviews

[ETERNITY]

"fake t*****s" thanks for that explanation ;)

[ETERNITY]

Hmm, sounds a little Harry Potter to me.
I'm not into this genre However, I know millions are.
Good writing, this author is obviously gifted.
Just not my cup of brew, lol.
100 for effort and knowledge!