Exit God Out - Book One - The Unexpected Terrestrial

Exit God Out Book One: The Unexpected Terrestrial - Chapter 12

He got up and looked over the horizon. A cup of tea went down nicely, and was the first thing he had consumed in hours. He hesitated to look out at the ferry dock; it seemed every time he did, he saw something that gave him more grief. He put some clothes on to go outside, and stepped out for a walk. He had no route planned. He just needed to walk, somewhere. Anywhere. A trail went north from Victor's place, and he could walk it without being seen. As he got closer to Victor's house, he could see lights inside, and SWAT teams stapling yellow tape around the house. He stood motionless, trying to absorb what he was witnessing. Where was Victor? Did this have anything to do with their conversation last night? A million new questions engulfed his mind, but he gave thanks because it gave him new material to coalesce. Anything was better than rehashing the day before. It was pointless to carry on, so he turned back and looked for a new path. A large black SUV pulled up beside him.

The tinted window rolled down and a voice without a face asked "Are you Jackson Brown."

He wanted to say no but it would postpone the inevitable. "Yes, I am."

Two men in crisp black uniforms got out of the back and asked him to step inside the vehicle. Jackson was overwhelmed, as if he was in a movie, but not being paid the fee the imposition was worth. He blindly did as asked, to move things along. He was read a passage of rights from a stone-faced amber-eyed man that dropped his papers on the vehicle floor just as he finished reading them. Jackson noticed his name: Mash. What an odd name he thought. Suited him.

"Were you with Mr. Wright last night around midnight?"

"I was with a man named Victor but I don't know his last name." The officers looked over their glasses at him, questioning his response.

"His name is Victor Wright. What dealings did you have with Mr. Wright that evening?"

"I went over to talk to him about my mother Diane Sparrow. She died in a car crash yesterday afternoon," and the tears were impossible to hold back. He sat in a vehicle of sterile silence, like a lab rat being poked and studied in a dark cage. The men waited, impatiently, until Jackson composed himself.

"Are you aware of Mr. Wright's dealings with the government of the United States of America?"

Jackson looked honestly shocked, as it wasn't that he didn't know about Victor, but it was the way these men said it, as if it was some holier-than-thou country that everyone bowed to. Or was it that Canadians are simply not as patriotic. Another distraction from Diane he was willing to use to his benefit.

"I am not aware of what Victor's dealings are sir."

"Has Mr. Wright ever divulged his past with you?"

"Not at all. No one knows anything about him. I wouldn't call us friends. He just visits when my mother comes to the island which is about once or twice a year."

"Did you not have conversations last evening with Mr. Wright about his past?" The officer was getting aggressive with Jackson, but he held his ground and kept focused.

"No. Like I said, I know little to nothing about the man other than he has a crush on my mother. She would know more about him, but that's something you'll have to take up with her." And the second that came out of his mouth, he knew he was in for some rough treatment.

"We are aware of your mother's death. Just answer the questions Mr. Brown. Has Mr. Wright ever given any indication of his prior occupation or his history?"

"Again, no." Jackson was handed a few papers to sign and send back. He was also told his presence would be required in the future and that he may be brought in for questioning. He felt lucky that he wasn't pushed or questioned further, as he was dangerously on the edge of breaking again, and this time Diane may not be able to rescue him. Jackson was finally released and he walked back to his warm empty house, stopping once to settle his stomach. He tripped on the stairs going in, then curled up on the couch, wet coat and all, and sifted through the paperwork they handed him. There was more information about him than he knew of himself. How is it that they took the time to gather it? And what were they protecting? Another distraction from grieving, but he couldn't stop processing questions. He recapped the dinner. He recapped the fight with Victor and the chalkboard and the loud opera. Stillness came over him, as he realized something he hadn't substantiated before.

Could Victor have been more than a forensic psychic? Jackson took a deep breath. Was he hiding something much deeper and darker than anyone knew? Something had to be up with him. No SWAT team would just move in and seize his house. And where was Victor? They either had him or he escaped. Jackson jumped on his computer and typed in the words 'forensic psychic' but instantly backed off as he thought he too could be wired or watched. Paranoia set in, and now he was battling two distinct wars: one of loss and grief and the other of fear and control. He had just about had enough when a knock on his door sent his heart rate spiraling. He approached cautiously, and opened it slowly inch by inch to see a Native Elder on the other side, holding something in a burlap sack.

"Jackson I believe," the gentle man inquired.

"Yes"

"I'm Ahote. I am not far from you," and the Elder spoke slowly and compassionately. "I have brought your bird back. He was hurt and I gave him medicine. You can have him back now. He's going to be fine." Ahote carefully handed the large bird over to Jackson. "Come in Ahote. We can put him down here," and the two men moved towards the island that sat in the middle of the room. They put Charlie down and untangled him from the burlap. His wing was yellow from the plant medicines Ahote applied.

Jackson just stared at Charlie, confounded by the strange events and the turn of them. Again, he got a feeling of support, and smiled at the old man with the missing front tooth and the windswept hair. He showed up just at the right time like Diane did Jackson thought. They looked at each other for a moment and then Jackson asked, "How long have you been here?"

"Not long."

"Oh. That explains why I haven't met you yet."

"You haven't met me yet because you don't get out around the island much. You need to get out once in a while young one." Ahote smiled again and lit up the room.

"I'm not privy to your name. Where are you from?"

"America. I was Hopi. The wise ones." Ahoti's smile kept widening with each clever remark, but his deep judicious eyes never left Jackson's. "I'm sorry for the loss of your mother. She was a guide, a wise woman."

"How do you know my mother?"

"I was on the ferry when she came over to speak to me. I asked many questions. She was kind to me. No one talks to me here. You have not lost her. She is here always with you," and Ahote took his left hand and placed it on Jackson's heart. "Ahote means restless one. I have to go now. Always remember, the wise ones will show themselves to you when you need them." And he turned around and walked out the door without closing it. Jackson stood in the kitchen with Charlie, trying to sort out the last few moments and then ran to the door to thank Ahote, but he was nowhere to be seen.

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