My head was going tilt-a-whirl. Where was I? I felt around. I was lying in the dirt. Looking up, my stomach lurched. I quickly lay back down before I spewed. I could see I was in a deep ditch, a dry creekbed. But where was the church, or the skeletons, or Dad? I turned over, getting to my knees. The spinning was slowing down. Wherever the heck I was, I needed to get up and find Dad. And where was Tibia? She'd pushed me! And I thought we were friends. I don't know how she's involved in all of this. But Dad was right, no more casino girls.
I slowly got to my feet. The creekbed was too deep to see out, and there was no sign of anyone else, not even footprints. I looked up to the sky. There was something odd about it. It looked all crumpled up, like used newspaper.
Wait, no, it wasn't that.
It was like when you're in an airplane, and you look down, and see mountains with clouds skirting across the top. But this was like looking up at mountains, and the clouds bumping against them.
Mountains in the sky? That's too much. I rubbed my eyes to make it go away. But was it really the weirdest thing I'd seen all day? There were, after all, walking skeletons, nuclear bathtubs, and now misplaced mountains. A normal day, right?
The sun was making its way to the horizon, floating beneath the mountains, like a lost lightbulb. I climbed the edge to get a better view. I was in the desert, full-on West Texas desert. There was sand and scrub, cactus and cliff-sides. But no Dallas. The church, the parade, everything was gone, including Dad.
Coming out of the creekbed, I saw that everything had a shimmer to it, a kind of shine. I could see it in the cliffs up ahead. Streaks, like electricity, shot up the sides and ran along the top. The sand beneath me, and even the air, had a sparkle and warble to it.
"There you are!" said a voice.
I turned to see a skeleton coming right at me. "AAHH!" I fell backward, tumbling back into the ditch.
It jumped down, coming after me. I crawled back, looking for something I could use as a weapon—rocks, sticks, hand grenades. I grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it in its eyes. Crap! Skeletons don't have eyes.
It reached out for me. For sure, its long bony fingers wanted to rip me into itty bitty bits. "Coffee, it's me," it said.
"Tibia?" I stared into its blank eye sockets. "They got you? You're one of them now?"
"It's just me," she said, placing her bony hand on her bony chest, "Calm down."
"Are you kidding? This is no time to be calm. Why do you look like that?" Was it really her? It must be a trick. But it had the same style of sugar skull face paint that she had at the parade, and the same paper marigold was stuck to the side of her head… er… skull. But skeletons aren't real. I mean they are. But they're supposed to be on the inside, not the outside!
I know… it was the latte. She drugged me. Pumpkin spice, that'll cover up any flavor, right? Nothing weird had happened until I drank the latte. It took a few minutes to kick in, but by the time we got to the basement, I must have been in full-on, reefer madness. "You drugged me!"
"What?" she said.
"My latte, you put something in it, like marijuana."
"Marijuana?" she said, putting her hands on her hips. Okay, that did look a lot like her.
"It makes perfect sense. This is just a bad trip."
"Have you ever even had marijuana?"
"I have now."
"You're not drugged. We need to get moving. The sun's going down." She grabbed me by my shoulders, trying to help me up.
"Ow!" Her bony fingers really hurt. "I'm not going with you. Not when I'm high. Before I know it, we'll have gotten makeovers and be sipping tea with your teddy bear collection. I have more important things to do. I have to find Dad."
She grabbed my face. Jeez, those fingers. "Look at me. You're not on drugs. This is for real." She enunciated like I was a four-year-old. "We have to get out of the open before it gets dark."
"What have you done with Dad?"
She rolled her… uh… eye sockets. "If I knew that, we wouldn't have to find him. Now, let's go." She started climbing out of the creekbed.
Hesitantly, I got up. I really didn't want to go with her, but wandering around in this cartoon desert, buzzin' like a beehive, seemed like an equally bad idea. "Fine, but as soon as this stuff wears off, I'm outta here. I can find Dad on my own."
"Fine," she said with an exasperated look.
We started walking towards an outcropping of rocks. Everything was jacked up. On the surface, things shined and shimmered, but if you looked, really looked, you could see crazy patterns everywhere. It was like wearing kaleidoscope goggles. No wonder marijuana was illegal. On a normal day, this would be way more fun than people should be allowed to have. A tumbleweed rolled past us, giggling, and up ahead a prickly pear cactus waved at me. "Hi, Coffee." I waved back, snickering. It even knew my name.
"Stop screwing around." Tibia yanked my arm, dragging me ahead.
"Are you always this bossy?"
"Only when I'm trying to save you from getting eaten by the denizens of the underworld."
"Right-o, Tibs," I said, giving her a finger pistol. She glared at me. Good, I'd found one of her buttons. "Well, since you're soooo sure I'm not on marijuana, then where the heck are we?"
"This is the Afterlife."
I stopped. "Afterlife!"
"Keep it down," she said, looking around. "Yeah… you know… the spirit world."
"Spirit world? Dude, are we gonna see dead people?"
"Yes."
"Man," I said, looking around in awe, "I never thought Heaven would be so… dry."
"This isn't Heaven. That's up there," she said, pointing to the upside-down mountains.
"Yeah," I said, craning my neck, "What is that thing?"
"It's called The Range. It keeps us from getting fried."
"Fried? From what, Heaven?"
"Yeah," she said. "If you're not a member it can be pretty… intense."
"Wow," I said, slack-jawed. "So have you ever seen, you know?"
"The Man Upstairs? Oh jeez, no. You'd be double fried, extra crispy."
"So he's pretty mean, huh? Lots of smiting?"
"Eh… It's more like drinking from the fire hose." Tibia looked at the setting sun. "We're not going to make it to camp. We need to find shelter. I know a spot over there." She pointed to a rocky outcropping over by the face of a cliff.
"You think Dad'll be all right?"
"Those guys he's with, they aren't our friends, but they need him alive. And they know what to do around here."
Somehow that wasn't very reassuring. Then I thought of something even worse. "So if this isn't Heaven, does that mean we're in–"
"H, E, double hockey sticks?"
I swallowed hard. "Yeah."
"No, you have to go down pretty far to get there," she said, pointing. "We're kinda in the middle. We call it the Open Air. It sits right next to your world."
I had no idea marijuana was so strong. Where was I coming up with this stuff? "So you're dead?"
"No, I'm a spirit."
"What's the difference?"
"I was never like you… a human." She looked around like she was checking to see if we were being followed.
"So what do y'all spirits around here do for a good time?"
"We make sure your world exists."
"Wow. Heavy."
We walked up to the cliff face where a tumble of rocks made a small enclosed area. Tibs scampered up a large boulder and gave me a hand. We jumped down inside. The rocks were piled high, like someone had made a little fort out of what nature had started. "This should protect us for tonight. We just need to get a fire going to keep away the parasites. Gather up those rocks."
"Rocks? We need some wood, and I don't see any around here."
"Just do it."
I gave her a funny look, but really, why should anything make sense at this point? I bent over, picking up a grapefruit-sized rock. As the sun set, light streaked across the side of the cliff wall. In an instant, the whole thing burst into a shower of colors. An array of yellows, oranges, and reds waved and zigzagged across the cliff face. It was way more than three-dimensional. It was bustin' out into four, five, and six dimensions, hypnotic. I couldn't pull away.
SMACK! Tibia slapped me right across the face. "Snap out of it," she said.
"Hey!"
"Yeah, yeah, it's sooo cool," she said, using air quotes. "You noobs are all the same. Now get moving and help me make this fire."
"Noob?" I dropped a rock. "Well, in my world I bet you're the noob."
"I did a good enough job to fool you," she said, picking up the stone.
"So I guess that whole thing about you following your dad around to casinos and getting into a fight was all just a lie. I bet you skeletons don't even have dads."
"I do have a father, for your information." She put her hands on her hips in that way that made her look unmistakably like her fleshy version. "Although I'd probably be better off if I didn't."
"What do you got against him anyway?"
"Nothing, just drop it," she said, looking away.
Jeez, touchy. I tossed a rock into the pile. "This is dumb… you, and your rock fire, and your cockeyed Afterlife story." I looked up at the crazy Range in the sky. "None of this makes any sense. I'm going to find Dad." I turned, looking for a place to climb out. As I grabbed a handhold, there was a shake and a low rumble. A grinding, scraping sound came from beyond the rocks. "What is that?"
Tibia pulled me down. "Shhh."
We peered through chinks in the rocks. "I don't see anything."
"Quiet."
Then, craning my neck, I saw two jackrabbits run across and duck into a large cactus patch. But these weren't regular jackrabbits. They had horns, like an antelope. "Jackalopes!" I tried to say. But Tibia had clamped her hand over my mouth, so it came out more like, "MurfBerps." The creatures cowered in the cactus, trying to be invisible. The sound grew louder. I tried to see what it was, but the space between the rocks was too small.
Then it slithered into view. Its head must have been as big as a VW Bug. And it was attached to the biggest rattlesnake I'd ever seen. No… nobody has ever seen a rattlesnake this big, not even cavemen. It slid by, piling up rocks and dirt several feet high as it rippled by. And it just kept coming, going on and on. It must have been over 300 feet long.
"What was that!" I said when it finally passed.
"That was a coatl," said Tibia. "So, if you go out there, stumbling around, you're gonna have to wrestle with that thing."
"But all of this..." I waved my arms. "It's just in my mind… all made out of thoughts and ideas."
"Of course it's thoughts and ideas. But that doesn't make it any less real."
I gripped my hand, wringing it out. She's bonkers. "I'm leaving." I turned to go.
She grabbed my shoulder, "Did your brain fall out back there? You saw that thing, right?"
"Let's say you're right, and I'm not tripping, and this is the Afterlife. Then that means I can't die. I'm invincible!"
"No, stupid," she pulled me in by my collar, "There're way worse things than death out there. You could fall into someone's nightmare, get enslaved by Thralls, or get swallowed by that coatl."
"What happens if you get swallowed by a… what'cha call it?"
"Coatl. You come out the other end… but only after a few thousand years."
"Eww."
"That's why we're going to stay here and enjoy this frickin' campfire." She punctuated each word with a finger jab to my chest.
I rubbed the spot. "Jeez, fine already."
I helped her stack up her dumb rocks. We made a little pyramid out of the stones. Then she sat down, crossed her legs, and picked one up. She brought it to her lips, er… teeth, and made like she was giving it a kiss. A faint glow started to spread over the rock. She blew on it, and a trail of sparks fluttered out. Then, WHOOSH, it caught fire.
"That's sick!" I said.
She kept her head down, but smiled a little, then put the rock back on the pile. "This should keep the parasites away. You should get some sleep."
Like that snake, I guessed that parasites grew a little larger on this side, so I just nodded and leaned back against a rock. "I don't suppose you could whip up some sleeping bags for us?" I said, crossing my arms and trying to nestle into a comfortable spot.
"No… but I could catch you on fire. That should keep you nice and toasty."
"Hard pass," I said with a grimace. Tibs nestled down in front of the fire, like she'd done it a hundred times before. I stared into it, watching the flames make strange shapes. You could see all kinds of things in there—elephants, butterflies, dogs playing poker. I tried to stay up and watch the show as long as I could. 'Cuz when I woke up, the trip would be over, and everything would be back to normal. Right? Of course… everything would be back to normal. But the hypnotic rhythm of the flames lulled me off to sleep.
***
I jerked awake. I'd had this crazy dream. Tibia had drugged me and… I looked around. I was still in the desert. There was Tibia, the skeleton Tibia, curled up like a kitten next to the dying embers of the rock fire. I shook my head. Surely a marijuana trip couldn't last this long. I looked up. The moon was floating just beneath the Range. There were spots where it looked like it had gotten too close and knocked off a few peaks. What if this wasn't a trip? What if skeletons, and laughing tumbleweeds, were for real? Does that mean jackalopes and giant Coffee-eating snakes are real? That made my stomach hurt.
And if this is real, what about Dad? What had he gotten us into? I looked over at Tibia. She was still sleeping. At least, I think she was. When you don't have eyes, it's hard to tell. Whatever was going on, I wasn't going to stay here a minute longer. Coatls or no coatls, she clearly had other plans, ones she wasn't telling me. And I wasn't going to wait around to see what they were. She'd pushed me into the tub, kidnapped me. I couldn't trust her. I waved my hand in front of her face. She didn't move. So I got up, real quiet, and tip-toed outta there.
The moon lit the desert like a black light, giving everything a dim, radioactive glow. If I could find my way back to the creekbed, maybe I could find where Dad came over. Maybe I could pick up his trail. It had to be around here somewhere, but everything looked so different in the neon moonlight. I turned around. Now I couldn't even see the cliffside. My head darted this way and that. I stumbled around in the dark. I was as lost as a Baptist in a brewery.
But up ahead, was a glint of light, a white spot. It looked like a phone screen! Someone had a phone out here. "Hey," I yelled. It jerked up, like it heard me. "Yeah, I need help!" Then it took off in the other direction. "Hey! Come back!" I ran after it. It darted this way and that. "Just a min–." I struggled to keep up, bounding over the rough ground. Then my toe hit a rock, and I crashed into the dirt. I came up, spitting sand. It was gone. "Dangit!" I punched the dirt. But, wait a minute, I had my own phone. I reached into my pocket. It was gone. But something else was there instead, something round like a coin. I pulled it out, holding it up to the moon. It looked like a poker chip. It had smooth edges and a hefty weight, a quality chip. Its white stripes glowed in the black moonlight. "How did that get there?" I couldn't see how much it was worth. But I could barely make out something stamped on it, the outline of a face. It was like Lincoln on the penny. I'd never seen a chip with a face before.
Then the light blinked back on. "Hey, wait!" I yelled. But the phone took off like a shot. I hot-footed after it. It seemed to skim over the ground and raced up the top of a hill. "Stop!" My boots slid across the sand and stones. It dove over the side just as I reached the top. I stood there, searching, my hands on my knees, struggling to catch my breath. Down below, I saw something else. It had a faint blue glow and was much larger than a phone screen. Maybe it's a ghost, I thought with a crazy laugh. This was the Afterlife, after all.
I crept up on the blue haze. As I got closer, I could see it was a woman. But she was hazy and flickered in and out like an old movie. I could see right through her. She was a ghost! Her back was to me, and it was like she was working on something. I got closer, so close I could almost poke her with a finger. She was doing dishes. Right out here, in the middle of the desert, she was washing dishes. In front of her was a faded, wispy countertop and sink, and next to that, a faded stack of wispy dishes. She wore a tank top and yoga pants and her hair was pulled back into an afro puff. She had on big rubber gloves and was scrubbing like her life depended on it. There was also a little boy, maybe three or four. He had on red superhero pajamas and was whupping her on the butt with a wooden spoon. He kept saying, "Momma, look'it, Momma, look'it."
"Little Man, how can I look'it when I got all this work to do," she said, scrubbing away.
He kept whupping her on the butt, "Look'it, look'it, Momma, look'it."
But, no matter how fast she scrubbed, the pile never got any smaller. Then the dishes on the countertop started to multiply. When every inch was filled, they popped up on the floor. She looked around, scrubbing even more furiously. Next, more Little Mans started to pop up. Pop, pop, pop, each one hugging on her leg, wearing red superhero pajamas, holding wooden spoons, and beating on her butt, saying, "Momma, Momma, look'it, look'it."
She scrubbed harder and faster. Soap suds flew. She wiped her face. Her breathing got harder and faster. "Little man, I just can't–" Then, up out of her head, came a blue smoke, like dry ice. I tracked it as it floated up into the night sky. But something was up there, hovering just above her. It was black, so black it repelled the moonlight. It had smooth, rippling wings and a giant circular mouth, ringed with sharp, needle-like teeth. It was like a cross between a stingray and a nightmare. It was inhaling the blue smoke, gobbling it up.
I yelled, falling backward, backpedaling, kicking rocks and dirt into the ghostly image. The woman jerked around. She looked at me with wide, terrified eyes and disappeared in a puff. Her, all the Little Mans, all the dishes, just gone.
The thing let out a screech. It was one part howler monkey, two parts speaker feedback. It didn't like me disturbing its meal. It dove for me. I rolled to the side, trying to get my feet under me. But it swooped like a dive-bomber and was on me in a flash. It gnashed its teeth, screeching. I grabbed one of its slick wings, shoving it off. It swooped back. I kicked, putting a heel to its teeth.
But the teeth got closer, chomping, gnashing. My heart pounded. It was wrapping me up with those slick wings. I punched and kicked. It made that sucking sound, "Nooo!" I yelled. A misty red smoke started to leak out of me. I kicked harder, pushed harder, but I was getting woozy, blacking out. Soon I'd be gone. Then the thing would do whatever it wanted.
Then there was a blast, a gunshot, up close. The thing flew off, screeching so loud I had to cover my ears. And a dude, a big dude, walked up.
"Scram, blood-sucker," he said. I heard the click-clack of a lever, and BOOM! A purple flame shot from the end of his rifle. The stingray was blasted into a shower of smoke and embers, like a kicked campfire. "Hey kid, are you okay?" The dude walked up and stuck out a hand. But it wasn't a hand at all. It was more like a paw. And he wasn't a dude at all. He was a bear. A walking, talking bear, like Baloo in The Jungle Book. Except this one was dressed like Clint Eastwood. He had a black and white serape and a broad-brimmed hat. He was also holding an old lever-action rifle. Thankfully, he wasn't wearing any pants, 'cuz bears wearing pants would be stupid. I stared at the paw a moment. But compared to what I'd been through today, this was pretty tame. I reached out, and he pulled me up.
"You got some cajones to be out at night," he said. "Good thing I went to take a leak."
"Who are you?" I said. "And what was that thing?"
"Haven't been here too long, have you?" he said, taking something out from underneath his serape.
"Ugh… no," I said.
He sniffed the object. I think it was… a Twinkie? "Oh, that's too bad," he said, taking the Twinkie all in one bite, "How'd you die?"
"Die? I'm not dead."
"Yeah, they all say that," he said, munching. "You'll come around."
"But really, I'm not dead."
He shrugged, "I'm good with that. Whatever works for you."
"You killed that thing." I looked over to where the stingray had been.
"The parasite?" said the bear. "Naw, you can't kill anything around here. Just banished it."
"Banished? To where?"
"Who knows?" he said, looking up. "It's different for everybody. But I wouldn't go testing it out if I was you."
"There was also a blue lady. She was wash–"
"A dream?" said the bear, "You gotta watch out for those. There're some real sketchy ones out here. Speaking of which, how'd you get so far out in the desert?"
I thought about Tibs and the neon bathtub, but I just met this guy. The less he knew the better. "Uh… I was following this light. I thought I saw someone with a phone. Was that you?"
"No cell phones in the Afterlife, kid. So kiss your Instagram followers goodbye. That was probably a Marfa Light."
"A what?"
He turned back, "You know, Marfa Lights. They float around at night and try to lead suckers to their doom. It's kinda like fantasy football. They get points for each idiot they get. I've got a running bet on Quarkle669. He's up 12 points this week. It wasn't Quarkle669 you were following, was it? Saving you may have cost me a couple 'a points."
"What?"
"Nevermind. Hey kid, my friends and I got a camp, just down the hill. Why don't you join us, at least until morning?"
Now, bears are probably just as likely to eat you as skeletons or stingrays, but this seemed like my safest bet, so I said, "Um… sure."
"I'm Wallace," he said, sticking out his paw.
"Coffee," I said, shaking it.
He cocked his head, "Now that's a name I ain't heard in a long time."