Terry Neale - Jo-el

I’m sitting with my mouth open, staring at Sally, trying to comprehend all of what she is saying. The numbers are gobbledegook to me. The alcohol was keeping me stable, Black Label to the rescue.

“We are going to build spaceships that will take us one point six trillion miles into space. How fast do they go?”

“A little less than the speed of light,” she said, as if I should know that. Oh well, no problem then.

“Who’s going to build them?”

“Your giant companies, here in the US and around the planet.”

“What about countries that don’t have the facilities to build such ships?”

“That’s a problem. Either they won’t be going or they must build the factories first, or the developed world will build them.”

“And who the hell is going to pay for all this? I can’t even fathom the cost of such a program. The government doesn’t make that sort of decision very quickly.”

“They have no choice, but you are going to help,” she smiled warmly, her eyes widening and shining like blue emerald.

I guess I should have asked her how the hell I was supposed to assist the government with finding the cash to build spaceships but I’d heard enough at that point. It was obvious to me that Ka-el had a plan and they would tell me when I needed to know. The Scotch was working miracles with my self-being but now I needed to soak it up with some food.

“I’m going to Plum Blossom,” I said, rising slowly from my comfortable seat. “I think I’ll walk.”

When I returned home there was a text message from my son Sean on my cell phone, which I’d forgotten to carry with me. He just asked how I was doing? Typical male, his texts were short and to the point. I replied ‘fine’ and didn’t hear back from him. That too was normal for my son, lost in his own world of friends, his father was simply a safety net in times of trouble. I accepted the situation as I remembered that I was not dissimilar when I was his age.

Still nothing on CNN about my exploits in the Caicos Islands, but I may have missed it. I asked Sally if there was anything to report and she said that three reporters from France and two from the UK, the Islands were under some sort of British rule, were headed to Provideciales, the town by the beach. She also said that one independent reporter from the Miami area was already there and was slowly interviewing as many people as he could find who had been on the beach and witnessed my rescue. As yet he hadn’t submitted anything for publication.

It was early to turn in but I was tired and had no interest in further discussions with Sally, so headed to bed. There was a storm heading south, down the California coast and I told Sally to wake me if there were any kids in trouble during the night. And that is exactly what happened.

At a little after one a.m. Sally tactfully nudged me awake, I’d have to ask how she did that?

“There’s three youngsters caught on Mt. San Jacinto in a storm, it’s bad,” she informed me.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and asked what time it was. Couldn’t help wondering if superheroes in the comic books needed their beauty-sleep? “Show me,” I said, sitting up in bed, cognizant that I was naked and this drop-dead blond was sitting on the edge of the quilt. The screen showed the three cowered against a group of trees, shivering and wet. The wind was howling and there was sleet hitting them at a forty-five-degree angle. “What are they doing there?”

“Hiking the Pacific Crest Trail,” Sally replied.

I knew all about the PCT, made somewhat famous by the movie ‘Wild’ with Reese Witherspoon. It was March, about the time of the year hikers started out from Campo near the Mexican border to walk two thousand six hundred miles to Canada. Nuts! I quickly dressed in full Jo-el uniform and told Sally to bounce me to a small opening about fifty yards from the stranded three kids.

Wow! That was a whack to the senses. One minute the warmth of bed, the next, pitch black and blinding sleet from every direction. My face, the only part exposed to the elements stung with the cold. Slowly my eyes became accustomed to the darkness and a faint outline of trees, swaying violently back and forth against a dim sky, was just visible. With Sally’s help I located the kids, who she advised me weren’t actually that young, all being in their mid-twenties. I approached the group, huddled closely together, sitting against a rock, trying to shield themselves from the storm. Their anorak hoods were pinched tightly around their faces. There were two girls and one guy. The girls were wrapped in sleeping bags up to their necks, they wore headlight lamps, which turned in my direction as I came closer. Three beams of light highlighting the driving sleet. They looked at me like I was from another planet, which I sort of was, with my light-weight, silver, mesh suit and giant wings protruding out of my back. None of them screamed, that was good, but then again, maybe they didn’t have the strength, none of them even moved. They were frozen, the sleeping bags were wet through.

I looked down on them from about five feet away and smiled, “I can get you off the mountain.” They made no effort to stand up, hopefully it wasn’t my lack of deodorant. I reached out my hands in a sort of ‘offering’ pose.

The guy, who appeared completely numb said, “who are you?”

Your friendly neighborhood, Superhero, I thought but said, “my name is Jo-el, please don’t be frightened, I’m here to help you.” Sounded real corny, but what would you say?

“He’s that guy who rescued the French kite-surfer.” One of the girls said. Wow! Out here on a mountain and I was famous already, brought a pang of pride to my heart.

“How did you get here?” question from the man.

Might as well go with the flow, eh! “I flew,” I answered. He wasn’t going to believe that, surely.

“Are you for real?”

I flexed the wings and smiled again, thought that would do for an answer. Sally did a great job bending the wings heavily with the sideways sleet. I certainly looked for real.

“How can you get us down?” next question, the girl again, her lips quivering with the cold. Making progress now. Less about fear of me, more about rescue. Superhero blurb, I got it.

I paused abruptly, as I was about to answer. They hadn’t seen me fly, should I do twirl? Nah! They wouldn’t be able to see, anyway. Then I had this fear that this weather wasn’t going to make flying that easy. Quickly I asked Sally if I could do this? She was Mrs. Calm as usual and said ‘no problem’.

“I’ll carry you down to the nearest town, to a motel.” Hadn’t said ‘fly’, but once I had them in my arms what were they going to do?

“What, fly?” the man again; picked up on that petty damn quick, can’t get anything by you.

I nodded. “Let’s go to the clearing a little way back.” Time for action, I had a warm bed to go to. I turned and walked slowly back the way I’d come. After ten or so steps I turned to see if they were following me. They hadn’t moved. Maybe my blurb wasn’t so great, after all? The wind was still howling and if I went any further they would lose me in the sleet. I stood sideways looking at them, they had a decision to make and I realized it wasn’t easy. I tried to imagine what I’d do in their position, but I knew too much.

Then the girl who’d spoken pulled out of the huddle and stood up hugging her backpack to her body. She let her sleeping bag fall off, then bundled it up into the backpack. She struggled to push it inside, her hands frozen with cold, even in gloves. That was good enough for me, so I turned and continued to the clearing. Don’t you just love a kid with spunk? I stood twenty odd feet into the clearing as the girl approached. Her two friends had come to watch, but stayed back by the trees just in sight.