Jigsaw World Read Free

barely
detectable anymore.
    Tom had a twinge of a memory about seeing her
rocking in the corner. He vaguely recalled that he had seen her
before in other places, like some sort of Archetype. She was always
in a corner, always rocking, and if she wasn’t shelling peas or
husking corn, she would be smoking. Take your eyes off of her for
an instant, and when you looked again, she would always be
gone.
    Susan collapsed onto the couch, and started
sobbing into her hands. Tom felt like he should do something to
console her, but he couldn’t think of anything that would do that,
without leading to huge complications. When he left this place, he
certainly didn’t want a sidekick (Bailey excluded), he didn’t want
the complication of a drunken woman that used sex for a consolation
act, and he didn’t need any more drama in his life.
    On the other hand, Nancy was gone, abducted by
whatever controlled that craft and that light, and he really
couldn’t blame her for falling apart with her daughter vanished
like that. He was almost ready to engage in a consolation process
that he would regret, when Bailey went over and stuck his cold nose
against her face between her cupped hands. She hugged him, and
increased the water-works.
    After a little exploring, Tom located Susan’s
stash of Canadian Mist and a baggy of marijuana with a book of
papers inside. He carried these items to Susan, and she dislodged
the dog from her embrace and rolled a joint. A few moments later,
after she had offered Tom a toke or two, and been refused, she had
smoked most of the joint, and was half-way through the first glass
of whiskey.
    The next couple of hours found Susan slumped
in a drunken snooze on the couch, calmer than Tom had ever seen
her. He picked her up and carried her into the bedroom, tucked her
in and closed the door. For the first time in days, he was in quiet
surroundings by himself, and could think about what he wanted to do
next.
    One thought that kept popping up was that he
was tired of the desert. It was time to go somewhere with trees,
and rain. Having a bit of ocean nearby wouldn’t be such a bad
thing, either. After he got some sleep, and said his goodbyes to
Susan, he would be on his way with Bailey in tow. Maybe he would
leave tonight, if it was quiet. More likely it would be tomorrow
morning, though.
    Tom made a bed on the couch, using a pillow
and blanket he found lying on an easy chair in the bedroom. He
stretched out on his bed, and Bailey hopped up and stretched out
beside him. Ten minutes saw them snoring in unison.
    He is walking down a dirt path
under trees in what seems to be a nice spring twilight, or what the
old Celts used to call the gloaming. He is drinking a peppermint
tea as he strolls along, and Bailey is walking beside him. Up
ahead, he sees a very tall, thin man, wearing a wide brimmed and
tall hat, and wearing a long coat that is in no style that Tom was
familiar with. Tom could not make out his face, but the tall man is
busy blowing darts at a tree full of monkeys from the blow gun that
he was holding. As Tom watches, the man blows a half dozen darts
toward their targets, and three times, a small monkey tumbles out
of the tree. Each time, the Tall Man would pick the monkey up and
place him in a small cloth sack.
    The Tall Man stops and looks at
Tom, and Tom could see that the man had no face; under the shadow
of the hat’s brim was more shadow, which served as the Tall Man’s
face. He gestures Tom over.
    “ If ye be goin down this trail, ye
be needing these tokens.” The Tall Man said. He reaches into his
pocket, and produces a mercury dime with a bit of feather glued to
it, and the dried up body of a medium sized earthworm. He hands
these ‘tokens’ to Tom, and picks up his sack of monkeys. Whistling
a jaunty tune, he starts off down the forbidden path.
    Tom woke up, and realized that it was only a
dream, a dream that Bailey was apparently still having, if the
little dog sounds, and trotting foot movements