Mayhem (The Remarkable Adventures of Deets Parker Book 1) by J. Davis Henry

Mayhem (The Remarkable Adventures of Deets Parker Book 1) by J. Davis Henry

Author:J. Davis Henry [Henry, J. Davis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-05-22T22:00:00+00:00


I didn’t believe Hank had walked off the bus in Boston. Hank was part of the spell being woven around me—a panda in the chair where he had sat and told me we were on a miraculous quest to help Betsy, the now half-empty bus with the two women laughing about ghosts, the driver saying the kid hadn’t changed appearance in four years, Hank waving goodbye.

He was gone, a visitor affirming some truth that I once could only have referred to as perplexing or frightful. The awe of mystery I felt as I fell into my seat not only further derailed my perception of how the world functioned, but also offered tangible, yet unimaginable possibilities of another set of rules to the physical universe. My eyes had never learned to recognize these rules, my laughter had never echoed with understanding of them, nor had my feet welcomed any other ground than the earth I was born onto, but my natural barriers to cryptic signals from monsters and feathers, jump-ropers and Polaroids, shadows and pandas continued to crumble apart.

I was learning to relate more clearly to what appeared to be an alternate reality.

And Hank had been there, acting on some invisible signal, nudging me, then moving on, leaving a message and a toy bear.

There was nothing to do but continue on with Hank’s quest. In seeking answers to the terrifying riddles of Monster Alley, I had chosen to act on intuitive hunches. By doing so, I was gathered deeper into mystery, unable to turn away from the direction it pointed me in.

What if I go insane, believing I can unravel a secret that may not be able to be unraveled? It seems to me the slightest insinuation may be the clue to unlocking another secret. Did whatever energy that brought Hank and I together need us, specifically, to further its mission? If we hadn’t met, would there be other paths to achieve the same purpose, whatever it may be? Is there a cognizant force planning every detail of this bus ride? If so, does it know me? Who does it invite and dismiss? If it is nothing more than disconnected, dangling happenings, how does it lock itself into synchronous events?

I can’t answer.

Hank didn’t believe in God.

Yet, I can’t dismiss this greatest of mysteries. Somewhere there’s a mystical dog whistle blowing and I can hear it. Man, I wouldn’t be surprised if all the strangeness I’ve witnessed is brought about by Betsy’s antimatter stuff being sucked into a black hole that’s jumping through a wormhole somewhere. Maybe everywhere. Maybe into nowhere.

At that moment, a feeling came over me that I can only describe as acceptance by some otherness. Simultaneously, my right hand felt energized, like it did when I drew, and I remembered it carving sand away, the old man watching. Paradoxically, I believed that wherever my trail took me, like a completed Zobe, it wouldn’t exist the moment I reached it.

Staring at the pine forests flashing by, raising my eyes to



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