Chapter 20: Always Chasing Unmanifested Dreams

Background

Charlie Braxton McRoy finds his way out of the madhouse of mirrored halls in the clown village of galactic scientists. But where is he, now? Is he any better off? If the clowns were really truly scientists, what does that have to do with him?

Charlie McRoy, not certain, if the music he heard playing was coming from inside or outside of him. Of course, he couldn't be certain of much with everything that had taken place right before his human eyes.

"It's like I'm being led by the nose, by some invisible force for a purpose, I don't understand to a place I can't find."

Curious? Who wouldn't be? Theme after theme of uncontrolled events popping up without any logical explanation offered for resolution.

"How can I know what might be coming up, next? There's no possible way for me to get prepared." He wondered where the fat ladies, muscle men, tightrope walkers, and 'hoochi coochie' girls lived and why he hadn't seen one of them. Except for one solitary elephant, no other visible carnival workers, anywhere.

Charlie grew more homesick. He longed to go back to Battlefield, Kentucky.

With each passing hour, the memory of love of his home grew more exaggerated.

"Where am I? What on earth am I doing in this place? I don't belong here. I want to go back home." He muttered sorrowfully.

No trace of the FRANCO Corporation had been detected. The incomprehensible carnival seemed to be much too large for there to be no sign of occupants. Not one sighting of another clown, either. This entire formidable structure for only 12 tiny clowns?

"Celeste said they are not allowed outside of the mirrored building. But, I got out. Why? To wander around like a fool?" Charlie was so tired of talking to himself with useless explanations and affirmations.

Nothing to do but to keep walking.

"How can this be? My English Racing Bike; what's it doing here? I'm headed in the opposite direction from where I left it."

But, who can say what direction that might be? He could have been going backwards to end up frontwards. Or he could have been heading sideways to end up straight. If the real truth be known, he had no possible idea in what direction, he had traveled, or where it might be leading. His judgment has been totally obliterated.

"I don't want to try to figure out all of this stupid mess. It's way over my head. I just want to go back home. Back to what I know and love."

The carnival boundaries seemed so expansive, yet in reality they imprisoned Charlie. Everywhere he turned, he found no answers. No escape. But why? No way would he attempt to interpret the situation. Since the bike had reappeared, it must mean for him to start out riding, again. That was good enough for him. One lesson this impossible journey had shown him for sure was to seize the moment and the contents thereof.

"If something's on your path, follow where it leads, with no premeditated comments or assumptions." More of the ancient wisdom fell from his lips without knowing how he knew it.

Charlie slowly, carefully, in full first level consciousness, boarded the two wheeled mysterious contraption. As he pedaled away, over his shoulder, he glanced, unsettled in the direction that SEEMED to be away from the vacant-all-but-clowned carnival. The peddling, on this particular run, did not seem difficult. Nor did he have to use as much force to make the wheels turn, as he had to do previously. The music unmistakably returned.

"I'll just follow the sound of the music. What else can I do? It's my only verifiable companion, even though I can't see where it's coming from." Charlie thought he could distinguish these words as originating from inside his head, as he spoke, but how could he be for certain? Certainty didn't exist wherever he was located.

The sublimely sensual enchanting music subdued his anxious thoughts for a short duration of time before he realized something different had occurred.

"The melody has changed. It's not the same music. What does that mean? What does any of this nonsense mean?" As Charlie continued to peddle, almost effortlessly, he felt himself becoming less concerned. More relaxed, he leaned way back, rather enjoying the sensational, pleasure filled, musically hypnotic, mind altering, induced ride. He experienced an unusual physical commotion, with an unstoppable need, to close his eyes.

"That's a dumb thought," Charlie seared. "How will I be able to tell where I am going, IF I shut my eyes? As if that mattered," he quickly added.

"I'm learning to trust my basic instincts more than ever." Heavy eyelids fell. Shutting his eyes would have seemed absurd under normal circumstances, but

Charlie's definition of 'normal circumstances' was nowhere in sight.

Something miraculous happened when his tired blue eyes sealed. No longer was Charlie pedaling the two spokes of his bike on the dirt trail. He opened his eyes to find the mystifying bike he had been riding had instantaneously, magically transformed itself into a brilliant flame red flying calliope. Encapsulated inside of the MUSICAL pumping candy apple red machine, the exact replica, as he definitely recalled from the age of five years old!

"No need to be concerned over this small matter," he eased the words out in acceptable, satisfying pleasure. "Just because my other-worldly, perfectly normal bicycle has changed itself into a musical-pumping calliope- a red musical pumping calliope - a red musical pumping flying calliope." He repeated the words over and over and over again, as if they were a well formulated mantra.

"What's the matter with that? It's no big deal. In fact, nothing's hardly a BIG deal, anymore. When enough things happen, you kind of give up trying to explain or understand; it's really stupid, you know. All commenting turns the mind into mush. You just have to take it as it comes." He yelled the words over the music, out the window, as his liberally thick blond hair tasseled in the wind.

"I think I'll just rest for awhile until the next episode occurs. Why not? What do I have to lose? It's not as if I have any control in the matter, anyway." On the cold hard steel, of a floor inside of the flying red calliope, he curled and drifted off to sleep.

"Why fight it?" The last words spoken before he entered unconscious-ville. While he slept, he dreamed lucidly. He had returned home, joined by his real mother, father, and two sisters. Everything was exactly the way it was prior to his picking up the BRACELET. He awoke with a unexpected jar.

"Just a dream? No, it can't be. It all seemed so real." He sobbed pitifully.

"It's not fair. I didn't ask for any of this shit. It's not funny, anymore.

It's never been fun. I want to go home!"

The stark bump, responsible for waking Charlie from his nostalgic slumber, was due to the fact that the flying calliope had abruptly fallen from the sky onto a sandy beach. The most incredible looking, fantastic, breath-taking spectacular beach Charlie had ever witnessed.

"WOW! I've never seen anything so beautiful in all of my life. What a sight. It's a shame no one can share it with me."

Even in his most elaborate daydreams, he couldn't have possibly ever imagined someplace so amazing. He crawled from the flying machine onto soft sun-bathed beige sand. He decided to throw off the tennis shoes.

He ran to the excellent shore wading knee-deep in the aqua-blue clear roving water. Cool, refreshing, exhilarating waves gently danced, soaking the calves of his skinny 'white-as-plaster' legs.

"I'm in heaven. I've died and gone to heaven. I know I have. No other place on earth could be this incredible." Charlie momentarily forgot about all of his existing problems.

He dropped to his knees, buried himself into the watered sand, and embraced the splashing of the shoreline waves. He stretched his neck to see if the calliope was still in view. It was. The feathered breeze blew calmed and reassured mental assistance. He listened, quietly; stilling himself, purposefully.

Deliberately, he focused his mortal attention, noticing any remote indication of the rustling life of existent birds, animals, or creatures of the sea. No sound was heard. Why would there be? Charlie was not the least bit surprised. This journey seemed to involve a continued series of events that didn't afford REAL people of the human kind.

Out of the blue, the strangest thought occurred to him. "JUST HOW REAL AM I?" He stuttered and then reaffirmed, "I've been gone way too long. My mind has left me!"

Could he have slept for hours traveling hundreds of miles past the carnival.

"What difference does that make?" He asked himself. Since he didn't know where the carnival had been located, either, wherever he was now, mattered none. Loneliness and homesickness overwhelmed him. Oh, how he wanted to go back home.

No matter how comfortable and beautiful his surroundings were, he didn't want to be (t)here (where-ever (t)HERE was). He wanted to go home! That's all he wanted to do. No amount of pleasure, fun, beauty, excitement, or pain could do away with the desperate longing enveloping his heart and mind. Would he ever be able to return home? He didn't know. Charlie jumped from out of the water, to the dry shore, falling on his knees once again; to pray, this time.

"I WANT TO GO HOME! DO YOU HEAR ME? H-O-M-E. NO where else but HOME.If I can't go home, I want to die. I'm sick to death of wandering from place to place..." Before he could finish his desperate hopeless plea, a distinctively, sharp, cracking, gurgling thud snapped at his feet. A voluptuous menacing alligator planned on consuming Charlie for lunch!

Scrambling to stand on his feet, from his bent knees, Charlie barely saved his hide. "You dumb-ass alligator, what are you trying to do?" Charlie had backed up. Gathered and projected a real feisty attitude onto the razor-sharp toothed thick skinned reptile.

"Not doing a thing out of the ordinary; about to have me some lunch."

"Not at my expense, you're badly mistaken." Charlie snapped.

"Don't see why you are so upset. I heard you talking about wanting to go home. You would really be at 'home' in my belly."

"That's not funny, one single bit. Yes, I want to go home, but it's not inside of your hard gut." Charlie was so mad at the thought of the Alligator eating him alive.

"What's your problem? My home, your home, what's the difference? You said you didn't want to be here. I was going to make it 'lights out' for you. Real easy; you act like your life matters; didn't sound that way to me."

Charlie did not like this obnoxious joke cracking mouth watering alligator.

"Are you in the habit of crawling around eating little boys for lunch?" Charlie snarled.

"No. You are the first boy I ever saw. But, don't mean I wouldn't try the taste of you. My philosophy; try everything, you might like it. And, even if you don't, at least, you got to try something different. A wide variety of delectable meals makes me very happy."

Charlie could not have cared less whether this nine foot scrubby fellow ever saw happiness, again. Too angry to be frightened, he was actually talking to a hungry alligator, and not the least bit rattled. Holding conversations with anything other than humans had become common-place.

"There's such a thing as warranted courtesy, you know," Charlie informed the nine foot reptile, "Haven't you ever heard of manners?"

"No. I can't say, I have. But, I'd be glad to try them if you tell me where I could get some."

"Manners are not something you eat. They are something you use."

"I am not much into 'using'. I spend most of my time prowling for my next meal. I don't have time to 'use' manners. Waste of time, in my opinion. "

"You're so dumb." Charlie informed, "Manners simply involve you asking before you take something."

"Asking?" The alligator looked quite puzzled by Charlie's comment. "What do I need to ask for? If it's there; I take it."

"That's stealing," Charlie replied.

"SO?"

"So, are you a thief?"

"Could be. What is a thief?"

"A thief is someone who steals things that belong to other people. You cannot take what belongs to other people."

"OH!" The alligator turned his large framed mouth separating each section, ever so widely, as he listened more reflectively. "Is that right? What is it, you and the others own?"

"Lots of things; clothes, land, houses, cars, money, bikes, food."

"You mean you own the beach I crawl upon?"

"No. I don't own the beach, silly."

"Then, I couldn't steal the beach from you, right?"

"Yeah, that's right. But, if you take something that does belong to someone else; I mean, if the other person really does own it, you would be stealing. That makes you a thief."

"What determines ownership?" The dumbfounded alligator asked.

"Ownership means that someone has bought for you the item or you bought it for yourself." Charlie responded.

"Bought?" The alligator had never heard the term before.

A clueless alligator was obvious to Charlie, "Yeah, bought, you know with money."

"No, I don't know what money is. Who bought you?"

"What do you mean, who bought me?"

"You said, ownership is determined by someone buying or you buying. Did someone buy you or did you buy yourself since you said you owned yourself?"

"You are confusing me."

"I'm only repeating what you told me. Otherwise, I wouldn't know about ownership."

"Well, technically my mother and father bought me but I own myself."

"How is that possible? According to you, since they bought you, THEY own you.

In that case, I wouldn't be stealing you from you; I'd be stealing you from your parents. And, since they are nowhere in sight, I can't ask them. So, I wouldn't be stealing. I feel much better about this whole thing of stealing."

No need to explain the laws of the people to an animal

"Now, I am going to eat you." The alligator politely relayed.

"OH! NO, YOU ARE NOT," Charlie screamed. He knew, he could outrun the heavy reptile, if need be.

"But, I thought we had this matter settled. I am not a thief; I'm starved. You are my meal for lunch."

How was Charlie to explain his way out of this one? Even if he did run away, where was he going to run to? Charlie changed the subject, "If you don't mind me asking alligator, but aren't you out of your natural domain?"

The dumb alligator fell for it. "I sure am. How did you know?"

"'Cause I know a little bit about water animals. I studied them back home in school."

"Study? Something else, I don't know much about."

"OH! You don't need to worry; it's something boys and girls do when they are in school. It's called an education."

"School, now I do know about them. I'd love to run into a school of fish. That's called a gator's delight."

Charlie laughed aloud. The alligator was talking about fish. He was talking about education. "Anyway, alligator what are you doing on a sandy beach instead of the swamp where you belong."

"It's a long story. You don't care."

"Oh! Yes, I do care." Charlie had all the time in the world to listen, as opposed to getting eaten for lunch.

"Well, I've always had a ferocious appetite."

Charlie could tell that.

The story-telling alligator rambled on, "I didn't mind going far and wide to hunt for new and better food. Each day, I would venture a little further and little further down the swamp. Everyone from my home base would try to tell me, one day I would get lost, not be able to find my way home. But, I thought they were just jealous because I could get more scrumptious food then they could."

Charlie never blinked as the alligator relayed his all but too familiar story.

"So, what happened?" asked Charlie.

"What do you think? (The blatant obvious). One day, I ventured too far. I was following, what I figured was a lip smacking meal, fat, juicy, plum full of exotic pleasantries. I had to have it! No matter how long it took for me to seize it. As you can see, I let my hefty desire nature run completely away with me. Turned out, what I was chasing was a broken up piece of rubber seat deposited in the swamp from a plane crash. Anyway, I darted after it but it kept moving at a slightly faster pace than I was moving, and sure enough by the time, I discovered what I had conquered, it was way too late. By then, I was so lost. I had no idea, how far I had come or how to get back home. I just kept moving along up the riverbank, in the same direction as the movement of the water. I figured, I didn't have much to lose and since I was still very hungry and by this time tired; I didn't want to attempt the journey back upstream against the current. I ended up here."

Charlie was ecstatic; finally, someone, regardless whether that someone, happened to be an alligator, had an inkling of an idea of where he had come from. Or at least, on what continent he might be. Charlie took a chance.

"Tell me have you ever heard of a place called Battlefield, Kentucky?"

"Yes, indeed. I've got distant relatives who live close to that area. For your information, they are big Whigs in the music business."

"Music business? How absurd! MUSIC, MUSIC, MUSIC," Charlie stumbled in mumbled, tattered thoughts. "This whole journey, music's the ONE thing I could always hear but never see...Why does it seem there's such an emphasis on music? I just don't get it. I never considered music that important in my life... whoever heard tell of alligators in the music business?"

Charlie could not hardly believe what the alligator said. He wanted to grab the big guy, kiss him right square in his dingy teeth-lined mouth.

"YOU HAVE!"

"Yes, why is that such a big deal?"

"Because that's where I'm from. I'd do just about anything to get back there."

Author's Notes: A gigantic "Thank You' to amfunny for the lovely picture you have allowed me to use in chapter 20 of The Subject of Desire!