The Firefly Field Theory

|14| Let The Fun Begin: Part IV

PART IV:

Sitting on the middle bench, with Bravo's heavy head on my bony shoulder I look out the window. The flashing images printed on sliding pages of a book move swiftly and create motion.

I can't even catch every detail, as they roll by like passing seconds. Once they disappear, my eyes register the green spiky pine leaves that flashed by, the line of beat up residential stones that peer at us from the side of the road, the nascent saplings eking out a bare subsistence from the soil and the wet wooden aroma that rises from the sturdy bark of the thick forest.

The clouds are growing darker, and the air is condensing. The completely drenched banana is lying sprawled in the way back. Z sitting in the driver's seat is blaming someone-besides-himself for not checking the weather forecast. Wall-e has changed into a less fruity more respectable outfit, and Omi is having a look at the zoomed up image of the map on his cell phone.

"What's the time?" I ask.

Omi looks up from the screen and says, "It's about five, we'll be home by nine, I guess."

"Yeah, I just hope it doesn't rain." Z groans. Omi pokes his head out the passenger seat window a little and looks up at the sky. I also take a look at the approaching heavy cluster of angry clouds.

The smoke enters my nostrils, first as a muted symbol. It doesn't feel like a threat initially; the car keeps rolling down the steep road. As we penetrate the thick woodland, along with numerous other retreating cars Omi reads off his cell phone, "Hey, Z. Listen. There's news of a really bad flash flood in Dhudial."

"Isn't that really close by?" Z asks him, overtaking a smaller car.

The tinge in my nose; stimulates my senses. The wisps of smoke intensify, darken and deepen. I look around for their origins, but I can see no fires.

Omi, scrolls down his cell phone screen and says, "The left road at the next intersection leads up there, it's about five kilometers."

"Are they calling in any aid?" Z asks.

I keep looking out the window expectantly, I see nothing that could've caused the burning tangy scent, Omi says, "It doesn't say, but I guess it might take a while for rescue to get there."

"Hey, you guys smell something burning?" I finally ask a little too late, because as soon as I voice my question, that's when I see the answer.

The image outside the window flashes by in the same swift acceleration, much like all the scenes a moment ago, but in terms of content, threat and concern, it's different from the previous sliding photos.

It stands out. I can see what's burning.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" I am rattled. I lunge forward instinctively making Bravo's sleepy head slip down my shoulder, her eyes pop open.

"What? What's wrong?" Z asks looking around, without stopping the minivan,

"Stop the van!" I yell; everybody stares at me like I've lost my mind. Z drives off a little; clearly unsure of what's going on. He glides the van to the less populated side of the road, and brings it off the track. He slows down and then pulls the brakes letting the keys hang in the ignition, so the car still hums. He turns around to become the fourth person in the minivan to stare at me; I don't have time to explain.

I don't feel that an explanation will be necessary for too long. I pull the door on my side of the van open, and jump out, running back to the spot in the woods where I saw a busted van, crashed into a tree trunk. Not just any van. I know that van.

I hear them all yell at me, asking me to stop and tell them what has possessed me. Since I don't stop trampling the damp sullen earth laid out against the road and I don't respond to them, they eventually get out and start running after me. They don't stop asking all the damned questions though.