XYZ

Tap-a-tap, fingers sound on wooden table. Knees hitting together. Terry shifted his bony butt and whistled out loud. He instantly regretted it. His history teacher gave him a cold stare and continued to drone on. War after war marked the passages of documented time. He wondered why men wanted to steal, rob, plunder, loot and rape other people and other people's land. His own people were stolen from their own backyards and brought to a foreign land to be slaves for white people. Why? he wondered. History recorded these events coldly but not impartially, with no conscience; cold hard facts—the so-called facts—what good was studying history if strong emotions weren't called up to plead for a change in the selfish cruel drives of man? The study of history always escapes the point—thousands of years of inhumanity, man has not progressed in loving—it's not the point—doesn't he care? Isn't history—the study of it—to teach us that love, sharing, is the only way to pass the time fruitfully? Terry's eyelids were drooping. He was falling asleep.

"The civil war was one of the bloodiest . . . Lincoln freed the slaves . . . " He gave a short snort. His head was heavy. His eyes rolled up. He found himself reading a document. It was a detailed account of a young man's journey. It was entitled Freedom Trail, Our True Home. There was a map of key points of interest. Terry laughed at some of the names.

"Terry, will you share with the rest of the class what is so funny?"

"What? I was . . . " What was I dreaming? Freedom Trail? The bell rang—fifteen students woke up. Terry wondered how many of them had dreamed of a past historic event or of a herstory waiting to come.

Kallie dreamed she was dancing, swaying like the trees on a mountain top when a storm is bapsing through. She moved in wiggles like a snake, then bolted like a startled antelope. She pounded the rocks like a river confidently changing, smoothing its ragged contours. She rode the waves like a pelican off the shores of a deserted beach. It was not a lonely dance. All creatures of light form sashayed in her light. Her satin sheened. She was sassy in her innocence.

She woke and ached to remember her delight. She frowned when she remembered today was ballet class. The hours of practice of single moves. She didn't like it, wanted to give it up. Give up dancing? Her body was making her afraid of dance. How could that be? She had never been self-conscious before. She felt the dance like the dance of her dream: open in nature's movements. Now that her breasts were getting rounder and hairs grew in places that were never there before, she felt more timid about her free form dancing. People watched her . . . boys and men noticed her. It felt strange, uncomfortable. She just knew that she could not move freely anymore. It would all be an elaborate, strained technique from now on. She could not show herself as she really was anymore. It felt taboo, too private.

She left her ballet shoes in the closet on purpose. She just couldn't face it today. How could she tell her father she wanted to quit? Maybe Terry, her brother, would understand and side with her. She needed to talk to him, touch base. His goofy humor always loosened her up and brought her feelings to the surface where she could feel them and laugh at some of her fears.

"Terry, you want to meet at the XYZ spot after school today?"

"What's up Kallie?"

"Nothing."

"Yeah, right . . . come on . . . "

"I just want to go there and sit by the bridge, go swimming in the river."

"It's kinda cold for that!"

"Come on, Terry . . . "

"I gotta dream I'd like to tell you about . . . remember, that's why we used to go to the XYZ spot . . . it was our dream-telling place."

"Yeah, I gotta dream I'd like to tell you about, too. You know how I name my dreams? I call it the Freedom Trail."

"Okay, 3:30 then?"

"See ya then." Terry tapped his fingers in silly, quick pats on his sister's shoulders and tossed her black curls. Kallie punched him on the arm and laughed.

Terry called out before Kallie had a chance, "Don't mess my hair!"

Terry sat under the bridge on a flat rock slab. He tried to remember why they had called it the XYZ spot in the first place. He couldn't quite place it. He knew it started long ago, before his parents broke up. It was a confusing time; his mother had left them for some kind of spiritual quest. It was her, thought Terry. She used to make up stories about a special place called XYZ. She described XYZ as a place where fantasy and the natural world dance and sing. Anything could happen. Terry tossed a rock into the river. He watched the ripples. He laughed when he remembered that Kallie used to dream about meeting aliens at the XYZ spot. Years ago, when they were about eight and ten, Kallie dragged him to this very spot at midnight on the full moon in July.

"Terry, they said they would come at twelve and show us their spaceship," Kallie urged him on . . . "Come on! Come on!" They never did see any aliens that night. Kallie said it was because they had fallen asleep and the aliens didn't want to waken them. She knew that because in her sleep they had sung sweet songs into her ear.

Ah, I don't believe in aliens . . . what a crazy thing to do. We were just kids then. What was it that mom used to say? Oh, that XYZ is . . . she used to call it the crazy factor. Whenever she used to say something that was weird, different, or something that had to do with believing in the impossible, she used to say, "Well, there's always the XYZ, the crazy factor. Terry wasn't quite sure anymore if there was such a thing as a crazy factor. He just knew he still missed her.

"Hey, Terry! You got here first! I always get here first!" Kallie called out to her brother.

"Beat you to it," Terry smiled. Kallie sat down beside him on the rock. Her feet were already itching to be dipped into the river.

"I was thinking about how it all got started . . . our XYZ spot . . . Remember, mom used to talk about XYZ as the crazy factor? Remember?"

Kallie slipped her feet into the river. The water was a little icy. "It's hard, Terry. I don't remember much about her, about living with her. I don't even remember dreams about her anymore."

Terry was silent for a few minutes. Maybe it was best that Kallie had forgotten her. It might be easier for her that way. He still missed her terribly. She used to say that she was a magical creature given to flights of fancy. Maybe she was on one now and someday would return to them. Get real, thought Terry. She won't come back. She is gone for good.

"What's your dream?" sister and brother asked at the same time.

Kallie walked into the river and stopped at knee level. "You go first," she called out over her shoulder.

"Well, I had this really cool dream about this map. It was a trail with really funny names . . . sorta like the XYZ spot . . . well, it was about a long journey. I was on the journey and I was laughing so hard because every time I came to a crossroad, the signs were all so silly . . . "

"Like what?"

"One of the names was Sing a Kiss. Weird, huh?"

Kallie laughed. "What was it about, I mean the dream?"

"The map was called the Freedom Trail, and you and I were following it."

"Freedom Trail?"

"Yeah."

"Where do you think we were going?" Kallie asked her brother.

"I don't know, but I was laughing a lot and you were dancing in your old crazy way . . . you know, before you started taking all those dance lessons."

Kallie wrinkled up her nose a bit. "About ballet," she said . . . "I don't know how to tell dad that I can't stand it. He's always calling me his little ballerina. My dream, Terry, was about my dancing . . . you know . . . how I used to feel it . . . like a bird . . . or a cat . . . you know what I mean."

"Yeah, it's the crazy factor. Like mother, like daughter."

Kallie remained quiet. She didn't want to talk about their mother. Dad wouldn't talk about her. If you didn't talk about it then you wouldn't have to feel the hurt.

Terry splashed his sister. She pretended to be mad, but she loved it. Terry chased her deeper into the river. Within a minute their clothes were soaking wet. His big toe stumbled on a can, a soda can, he thought. He dived in to retrieve it. It was unopened. The label was completely eroded away.

"What's that?" asked Kallie.

"Some kind of soda can, I think. Want a drink?" he teased as he headed for his favorite rock on the river's edge. Terry pulled the aluminum tab and the top of the can opened fully. "What's this?" he puzzled out loud.

"What is it?" asked Kallie.

"Some kind of piece of paper is inside. Probably a love letter from your boyfriend Steven," teased Terry.

Kallie ignored the tease. "Take it out. What does it say?"

"Hold on, it's a message from the aliens . . . you remember them?"

"Well, a lot of people have seen aliens," Kallie protested.

Terry unrolled the paper. Immediately his attention was riveted by the words, Freedom Trail. The hair on the back of his neck stood up.

Kallie was impatient and grabbed the piece of paper from her brother. She read on:

For those who have believed in or dream

about the XYZ factor.

Wow, she thought. "Your dream!" exclaimed Kallie.

Terry felt strange. He had often teased Kallie about her dreams coming true. He had often teased her about the XYZ factor, and now his own dream was coming true. Maybe this is a joke, he thought. Someone knew about my dream and planted the map here. Who, though? No one could have known. He grabbed the map back and read out loud.

"To begin this journey you must start wherever you are right now; and once you start, there is no turning back. Everything you learn will be of extremely important value to you. If you want to start, write XYZ in the dirt three times. (That means both of you.)"

"It's real, it's real, Terry! It's real! I know it! You wanna do it?"

"Ah, come on. This is stupid. It's not real. Someone made it up for a joke."

"Why? And how did they know about the XYZ factor? Even dad doesn't know about that. If you're not gonna do it, I'll do it alone and . . . and maybe I'll never come back!"

"Yeah . . . there's that crazy factor again. You don't even know what you are talking about. Maybe I'll try this stupid thing just to show you that it's like the aliens. Nothing will happen."

"Cut it out, Terry. I can take care of myself. You gotta do it cause you want to. Well?"

Terry reasoned with himself. If I try and nothing happens, well, is that really a big deal? Only Kallie will know about it, and then we will be equaled out for the alien episode. What if there really is something to it and Kallie does it and has a really neat adventure—or worse, she doesn't come back? What will I tell dad?

"I'll do it, let's do it together. And if nothing happens, I'll never bring up the XYZ factor and you can't tease me about my dream."

Kallie nodded her head. "Let's find a stick to write XYZ with."

XYZ, XYZ, XYZ . . . large letters appeared in the dirt. Kallie and Terry dropped the stick and looked at each other with questioning looks that read: Now what? Nothing was happening. Terry held off on his impulse to say, "I told you." He kicked the dirt and thought, why do I want something to happen anyway?

Kallie was smiling. It was a huge smile that Terry hadn't seen the likes of since, well, he couldn't remember her ever smiling like that, but it did feel right and real on her face. The curves of Kallie's lips were expanding past her ears. Terry started to laugh. Kallie laughed. Terry laughed a big belly laugh. He was holding himself, trying to contain the laughter.

"I feel so funny," he said through his silly chuckles. "I can't stop."

"Me either!" Kallie reached out to hold Terry's hand. They touched palms and the sparks flew! Kallie looked into Terry's eyes. She saw mountain peaks, crusty seashores, rainbow trout flying, gorillas checking their wristwatches, trolls playing in a rock band, mice wearing sunglasses, caterpillars wearing ballet shoes.

"Stop it, Terry! Just look at me!"

"I'm not doing anything. It's you . . . your smile is so big I can see everything in the world in it and it's all so mixed up and weird, really silly—like . . . ”

"Bananas with bow ties?"

"Yeah!"

"Excuse me, excuse me. Would you two give me your attention? I must tell you how to use this function correctly if you want to go on this journey. You'll never get anywhere, you'll just laugh yourselves into a coma that way. Let me show you how to use the XYZ factor in a way that will be most beneficial for your journey. You two are scheduled for the Freedom Trail, aren't you?"

Kallie clapped her hands. "See Terry, it's an alien! I told you they were real! It's gonna help us!"

"Alien? What makes you think I am an alien? I'm not an alien! I am a licensed, fourth degree angel!"

"Angel? Like holy and working for God type of angel? Really?"

"I can't tell you who I am working for . . . that's part of the grand adventure you will be on. You two aren't well prepared for this adventure, I can see that. Well, at least you have heard about the crazy factor. Very few people know about it these days. May I ask who told you about it?"

"It was our mom," Terry answered.

"I suppose she has a name, doesn't she? My name is Emoto and I know that you are Terry and the young woman's name is Kallie. I've been watching you both long enough to figure that out."

"Her name was Kallama. My name is taken from hers."

"Yes, of course. Now it is clear why you are going on this adventure. You two will be most surprised. Nothing is what you think it is, nothing! Oh, I wish I was coming with you. You two are so lucky. No one on earth ever goes on this journey anymore. I remember in the old days . . . people planned and prepared for this moment . . . to start this journey . . . for years and years. If you had the dreams, you had the calling. Yep, people knew their colors back then, and their letters—not like today. People nowadays don't even know the meaning of ABC."

"ABC? There is a meaning to ABC?" asked Kallie.

Emoto shook his magenta face three times and sucked in his breath. "How did you ever get to XYZ when you didn't even know the basics of ABC? Oh, what a pitiful state the human heart has fallen into . . . you two are still young, too young to be so ignorant. To think that you were fooling around with the XYZ factor and not even knowing your ABC's! Most dangerous. Glad I showed up when I did."

"What is ABC?" Kallie asked again.

"It's Always Be Caring. I heard that it has degenerated into the stiff Always Be Careful. Must every journey into the heart start with fear? NO! NO! It must start with caring. Do you care to begin? This journey has absolutely nothing to do with being careful. So, what do you think? Can you go? Do you trust me? If you do, I am authorized to give you the caring. Your vehicle is waiting."

"Let's go for it, sis."

"Okay, but what about the XYZ factor? Emoto, you said you were going to help us with how to use it."

"I already have, my friends . . . I already have."

"Wow! Look at our vehicle, a bicycle built for two! Terry, where do we go on it?"

"How should I know, Kallie?"

"The map! The map! You got the map?"

"Oh yeah, right. As far as I can make out, we ride down this road for two miles, then we come to a crossroads."

"Where do we go then?"

"Here's where the silly names come in. We have a choice between, What's Behind Is in Front of You and Float and Gloat. Weird, huh?"

"Yeah, let's get going. I'll ride in the front."

"Kallie, ain't you forgetting one thing?"

"What?"

"We've done this ride a thousand times. It ends at Harbringer's meadow, where the old ice cream store used to be."

"Terry, don't you get it? Nothing's normal! How did we get this bike and—and the map and Emoto? Where's Emoto?"

"Disappeared back into our hallucinating imaginations," laughed Terry. "Let's go, I'm gonna go with the flow . . . the XYZ flow, of course."

In a short while, Harbringer’s meadow was in view. Kallie jumped off the bike first, looking for signs of the crossroads. Everything looked the same . . . the same white shack was on the west side of the street. Kallie remembered getting her favorite—chocolate chip. She was about five then. Terry remembered the time that he had a contest with Kallama . . . who could finish an ice cream cone with the least amount of licks.

"What do we do now?" asked Terry.

"I don't know, Terry. Do I have to figure out everything? Hey, I'm remembering something . . . about mom. She used to take us here when we were younger, didn't she?"

"Yeah, let's poke around. Maybe it has some clues. The door looks rotted, we could probably push it in. Let's see what's inside."

The door came off the rotten hinges and Terry pushed it to the side. Kallie pushed ahead of him.

"It's dark. Wait a minute, I see a light in the back room. Terry! Look!"

Mountains of it! Ice cream mountain ranges! Cotton candy trees! Chocolate chip blossoms! Fudge brownie stepping stones! A meadow of red licorice. A waterfall of root beer and a pool of vanilla creme.

"Can we eat it? I'm starving," laughed Terry. "I'm not gonna ask how any of this got here. Let's jump into the pool!"

Kallie swam the length of the pool, sipping a fair amount of vanilla creme during her play. Hmmm, she thought. This tastes so good. Hmm, I could float and drink all day. Wait a minute, this has gotta be the land of Float and Bloat. "Terry!"