Crazy Factor

Emoto sat on the ledge, his feet dangling over the precipice. He hadn’t seen her for a long, long time and wondered if he would ever see her again. It was unlike her not to leave any clues around. He was blurring and bleeding through so much these days. It was not the spinning, free expansiveness of the XYZ factor. It was something else. It was not loose. It was an aching tension. His heart was calling out for more of her. The yearning covered his whole body. It was sexual, too. In the past he had felt yearning as compassion and had incarnated several times to guide and help the people who could respond to his caring. A few people had learned a bit about caring and some had even let the XYZ factor ungel their personalities— temporarily.

He threw a rock into the canyon. He waited for the inevitable bonking sound it would make. It didn’t, but he didn’t remember that he was waiting to hear it. The absence of the sound did not alarm him. The blurring and bleeding were making his whole body strain to breathe. He lay down holding his chest tight. He wondered if he was having a heart attack. How can this be? he wondered. This body is not real, it’s only a dream of Kallama—She Who Sees Through The Rainbow. Why is she absent from me now? The pain was difficult to bear. He had to trust that this pain was necessary . . . but why and for whom? How would it change anything?

He moaned and called out for her. The usual, gusty mountain winds were absent. Strange visions. Characters on paper coming alive with notes caught from the web of the dream-catcher’s earrings. Angry voices, loving songs, lion growls, children’s giggles . . . reverberations over and over. What is this? It went on and on. Just when he felt like he couldn’t endure the pain anymore, he recognized what the blurring and bleeding was about. It was she without restraint. He had never felt her like that before. No wonder she was the master of XYZ—the crazy factor. The pain left him and his whole body was alive with another kind of tension.

“So this is human desire,” he thought. “How can I function like this?” he wondered. “God help me . . . so this is what it feels like to be in love . . . instead of being love! How can they live with such aching tension and this constant genital buzzing?”

Compoootour examined the rock. He scanned for signs of human presence. None. This place is full of the unexpected. Danger—possible danger at any time, at any place. Finally a place of adventure! Heaven was so boring—so predictable. This is a life! I finally got a life! He wondered how God Louie was getting on without him. No need to wonder about that, he deduced. After all, Louie is God and heaven is fully automated these days. Anyway, he’ll be so happy and proud of me when I find She Who Sees Through the Rainbow for him. He’ll be whim-mammering to his heart’s content. Heaven will be jumping with his wild parties once again. I’d love to be invited to one of his parties! I’ve read and reread the Old Testament Times. God Louie was incorrigible back in those old days. I’ve studied the data over—could Louie get it on! Drinking, singing and dancing past exhaustion—and the love songs he performed for Her . . . oh, they were so alive with passion and tease. If I can find Her and bring Her back to him, perhaps I could jam at one of the parties with my electrified guitar. I’m tired of being the receptionist for poor, lost, guilty souls. All they ever sing are songs of their pain. How dull, improper . . . who wants to hear, especially God Louie, about their unworthiness. It’s not polite to go on and on about oneself, especially one’s faults. You would think they would keep quiet about all their sins, after all . . . they made it to heaven, didn’t they?

Compoootour deleted that line of thought. His memory banks were loaded with information pertinent to Earth natural cycles, customs and rituals of all Earth peoples . . . etc . . . etc . . . and it all was stored quite easily on one of his eyelashes. He also had an open channel into the most sophisticated computers on Earth. He was appalled at how primitive they were. They still looked like boxes! No functional form of beauty and grace, like himself. He was quite handsome with dark black hair and green eyes. Of course, his body was well-proportioned, muscular, well-defined but not overly exaggerated. What a shame that Earth computers were not as attractive to the eye. He was most disappointed that the earth computers had no real creative capabilities; they were only capable of storing information and spewing it back. He was shocked to find out that most of the information stored was just to keep track of people’s finances by institutions of money. Lots of invasion of people’s privacy if you ask me, he thought. He could access heaven’s channel right now if he wanted to, but he never interfered with God Louie that way. Louie would call him if he needed him. Anyway, he reasoned, following Terry and Kallie and that Slowjo Maam is not spying or invading their privacy. They don’t even know that I am around and certainly any information I have stored about them so far will never be used to determine their financial reliability. It will be used to help all of us . . . certainly they all would like to find out where Kallama is. I suspect Emoto is having trouble finding her these days. And I am getting curious about this mysterious woman. Where is she roaming? And what about her power? What is this strange XYZ power that she alone is the master of? Why has she gone off on her own and even Louie is not privy to her whereabouts?

The children—well, they’re not really children anymore—Terry is nineteen now and Kallie is sixteen, almost seventeen Earth cycles. Terry’s memories have faded considerably since the days we met in heaven. I don’t quite understand the purpose of the function in humans that can erase certain pictures and perceptions. I don’t know why he would want his memories of his mother to fade and disappear. I have repeatedly scanned them and they are loving ones. What is interesting is that Kallie’s link to her mother is opening more and more in dream channeling. If this continues, her dreams might prove to be a vital link in solving this case. However, there is a drawback to dream channeling. Kallie must remember her dreams and find a way to use the information she receives in them to alter her patterns of behavior in the physical. Dream links can be broken if not used to affect one’s life. Compoootour scanned his own dream banks for any useful information. He smiled to himself, his favorite reoccurring fantasy played out in his picture screen. He was destined to meet Her one day. Louie had programmed Her into his being and often teased him.

“Oh, what fun you’re gonna have, old man . . . She’ll send your data banks spinning!”

He tarried there awhile until a dream alert signal grabbed his attention. He selected appropriate decoding numbers and the screen cleared and new images appeared.

He scratched his brow. Most puzzling, he thought. It’s Kallie. She is older. She is painting on a wall, a scene . . . can’t make it out. Compoootour focused on the wall and magnified his dream vision. A painting, scroll-like, was fervently coming to life with Kallie’s deliberate brush strokes. How fascinating. It’s being done in an abstract form. How can I read her symbols? What do they mean? Compoootour scanned his memory banks for any information that would help him understand the colored gestures. I’ve got an idea. Perhaps if I fast forward the scroll into dream future, even though she hasn’t presently finished the mural, I will meet up with it’s completion and then it will become obvious what it’s all about. He had to deplete one of his solar batteries to do it . . . that would limit his time on Earth. I’ll take the drain on resources . . . this might be the clue I need. Future dreaming, especially within a dream—and it being someone else’s dream—was one of his advanced technical slight of hands. He had only used it a few times and both times he slipped the information he received into a free-floating disk because it was about his future, and when he got close to seeing it, he decided he might as well leave it alone. It would take the unexpected out of his life and he was programmed to derive pleasure from out-of-sequence events called surprises.

He sat down as he was feeling the loss of power. Better get a sugar treat after this. It’s coming, the images are clearing. What? It’s an image of me. How odd. I’m looking at myself painted by Kallie in a future dream. Compoootour studied his face. Yes, it’s me. I look a little pale but it’s definitely me. Wait, someone or something is bleeding through my face. A woman’s face. It’s fading. I can’t quite make her out. Compoootour lost his objective invisibility and called out, “Hello, hello? Who are you?” A piercing high noise hit his ears. He turned down the faders and quite clearly heard a woman’s voice speak.

“Don’t you know who I am? Really now, Compoootour, you have been following me . . . or should I say, been trying to find me, for some time now. I had to show up in this dream because, well, you weren’t getting anywhere. I’m She Who Sees Through The Rainbow, or you can call me Kallama.”

“Kallama! Where are you? God Louie . . . ”

“Shhh. Listen. I cannot see him yet. There is much to do to prepare the world for the split I’m giving it. It’ll happen soon.”

“You mean XYZ, the crazy factor? But Kallama you know what God Louie feels about that. The people won’t get past the mind distraction. They’ll explode in fear before they can conduct the intense heart vibratory field of XYZ.”

“I understand all that Compoootour. I am well aware of the dangers. I have an idea how to counteract the mind distraction. XYZ is the only hope. Now, it must be used.”

“Couldn’t you just give everyone a little dosage of XYZ? Like you did with Terry and Kallie?”

“You don’t understand. I cannot explain it all now. You must stay out of Kallie’s future dreams. Kallie will find me on her own. She has a need for me. She will follow that desire. It will be very difficult but I believe she has the strength to do it. Compoootour, I want your help. Will you help me?”

“I don’t know if I can—I must follow God Louie’s feelings on the matter of XYZ. I must remain loyal to him.”

“Very admirable, Compoootour. You must follow your loyalties and your destiny but they might not be the same. One day you might have to follow your own feeling, your own XYZ. What I want you to help me with is this: it has to do with Terry and Slowjo Maam. Her memories are returning again. She is afraid to remember them fully but she must.”

“How can I help with that Kallama?”

“Become her lover.”

Compoootour dead-out fainted. I’m not sure if it was the overusage on his wattage or the underuse of certain genital muscles or feelings. He was out for some time. When he finally came around, the sun was already on level with the horizon. He chewed a couple of sticks of bubble gum to get his sugar equilibrium back to normal functioning capabilities. He soberly contemplated what Kallama asked of him.

Very, very improper. It’s not my place to become sexually involved with humans . . . they have been proven to be emotionally unbalanced. I don’t understand why Kallama is asking this of me. How could sexual intercourse help Slowjo Maam to remember. What! If I just slip into her memory banks, I could just tell her whatever it is she doesn’t want to remember, that Kallama thinks she needs to. What’s proper here? I’ve been given full service and etiquette training. God Louie also told me to keep my distance from the humans who came to heaven.

“Always be helpful but keep your distance—they are full of germs and desperate desires. Wear gloves when you shake their hands. You have heard about that dreadful disease that is going around Earth these days—AIDS—although I don’t understand what possible aid it is to anyone, except as an aid to get them here faster,” he said. He has always told me to keep a proper distance from those people and now Kallama is asking me to . . . just to get it on with this young girl without the proper data bank exchanges. I couldn’t possibly. I know God Louie would not recommend this course of action for any reason.

“Kallama! I don’t understand this! I don’t understand you!”

“Nor do I, but I thought I did . . . well, anyway, I felt I did.”

Compoootour almost jumped out of his skin. No human had ever been able to sneak up on him. Their thoughts and smells always gave them away at least two hundred feet in advance of their actual bodily presence. They are always so busy sweating and the odor of their thought patterns . . . pee . . . uuuuu.

“It’s because I am usually thoughtless. Can I sit down? Can I join you? You’re Compoootour, aren’t you? Maybe you can be of some help to me.”

“And you sir? I have seen your face before. Yes, yes, it is on file in the universal archives. Sir,” Compoootour jumped up, “I am most happy and honored to meet you. You are Emotion Motion, fourth-degree licensed angel, an angel of the highest ranking.”

Emotion Motion laughed, “Call me Emoto. By the way there are no other fourth-degree licensed angels.”

“Yes sir. I am sure it is a special distinction that you alone have managed to achieve through great acts of courage . . . ”

“You mean acts of loving, Compoootour. There are no other angels, not even undergraduate angels in the third or second or first degrees. No need of them anymore.”

“Sir, is that because heaven is fully automated these days?”

“No, it’s because we all became unemployed due to the lack of interest in women to conceive immaculately—you know by having sex with angels.”

“Sir, you mean your job was to have intercourse with women . . . for what purpose?”

Emoto gently elbowed Compoootour and laughed, “I’m only kidding . . . I’m only kidding. Not a bad description though, huh?”

“Sir, this subject of sex has been coming up a lot lately . . . ”

“Along with a certain part of your anatomy, I suppose?”

“Sir, whatever do you mean by that? Sex, it is a troublesome line of thought, is it not? I’ve had a recent communication from Kallama and you wouldn’t believe what she asked me to do!”

Emoto’s eyes were pronounced. “She asked you to have sex with her? Where is she? Do you know?”

Compoootour was surprised by Emoto’s question and the anxious, impolite way he asked it. “Of course not, sir. She asked no such thing of me. I have no feelings for her in that way. She is, after all, God Louie’s friend, a goddess and master herself. No, no sir . . . she asked me to help Slowjo Maam to remember something that seems pertinent to XYZ . . . I’m not sure . . . she asked me to help Slowjo Maam remember by becoming my lover. I don’t know what to make of it and I was just puzzling over it when you appeared.”

“Oh, how did she look?”

“Whom do you mean, sir? I’m not following you.”

“Kallama . . . How is she? . . . Compoootour? I have been looking for her. I haven’t seen her. I can’t find her anywhere, not even at the XYZ bridge. I’ve got to see her!”