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So if the undead start taking over, chances are better than not that I won’t survive. That’s kind of depressing. Go ahead, click on the banner and take the quiz. But I’m warning you that if you score higher than me, I might have to hide behind you like a frightened little girl should the unthinkable happen.
4 jobs I’ve had . . .
Delivery boy for Curly the Printer
Dishwasher/order taker/delivery boy for Heap’s Brick Oven Pizza, Pasta, and Pies
Admitting Clerk for Utah County Juvenile Detention
Director of Online Content and Communication
4 movies I could watch over and over. . .
Princess Bride
Remember the Titans
The Fugitive
Toy Story 2
4 places I’ve lived . . .
Apia, Western Samoa
Sierra Vista, Arizona
Provo, Utah
Farmington, Utah
4 favorite television shows . . .
The Office
The Office
The Office
The Amazing Race
4 places I’ve been . . .
New York City (6 hours, business meeting, flew in—flew out, didn’t even stay overnight)
Stone Canyon Inn, Bryce Canyon, Utah (Awesome B&B)
Bright Angel Creek, Grand Canyon, Arizona (Best hike ever)
Nogales, Arizona (¿Habla español?)
4 favorite foods . . .
bbq chicken
fajitas
enchiladas (red sauce)
banana cream pie
4 websites I check often . . .
CougarFan.com
Yahoo! Mail
Family and Friends’ blogs
iTunes Music Store (Free music Tuesdays, baby!)
4 hobbies . . .
water skiing
bbq-ing
writing
soccer fan/sometimes coach
4 people I tag . . .
Heidi, my niece
Karl, my coworker
Josh, my son
Fidi Bronco
Once again, as I sat in the Saturday evening session of stake conference, I was profoundly impacted by the Spirit that was there.
One young lady who has received her mission call, spoke about the spiritual highs in our life. She shared an amazing quote from a renowned mountaineer. It was so powerful that I had to google it and immediately add it to my favorite quotes. Here it is:
“You cannot stay on the summit forever; you have to come down again. So why bother in the first place? Just this: What is above knows what is below, but what is below does not know what is above. One climbs, one sees. One descends, one sees no longer, but one has seen. There is an art of conducting oneself in the lower regions by the memory of what one saw higher up. When one can no longer see, one can at least still know.”
–Rene Daumal
Janet and I were driving to the temple and she casually said, “I don’t like the ending to Fog of Dreams.”
Truthfully, I don’t love the ending either.
But at least now it was out in the open.
One of Janet’s key sticking points was “Who is the red-haired girl? What happened to her?”
A very good point. And it got me thinking that I will re-visit the ending. But I thought I’d give the rest of you a chance to weigh in. What did you think? Did you hate it? Did it leave too many unanswered questions for you?
There’s a raspberry seed
Stuck behind my tooth
Like a long-forgotten truth
Can’t remember when I ate it
A fat finger can’t abate it
Digging just beyond reach
Maybe I’ll go buy some floss
Before it starts to grow
The more I learn the less I know
Taking a mindless bite
Stuck with what’s left behind
Can’t pretend the mind is blind
I spent last evening sitting around a table with a great group of 15-year-old boys. I’ve spent the last couple of years teaching, playing around with, and advising these boys. Last night, we ate some great food (food that the boys cooked themselves) and then we were just sitting there. A deck of cards happened to be on the table and I picked them up and dealt a hand of solitaire. Next thing I knew the boys were clamoring to play scum. And so a “mission preparation” activity turned into a marathon face-card night.
We had a lot of fun. But it was all a little bittersweet to me. You see, on Sunday, I was released as their leader. I will definitely miss them. Afterall, I still feel like I’m a kid myself. It’s been a fun ride. And they are a great group of boys.
But in the church, you always have to be ready for change. And though I will miss getting to hang out with the boys, I have a new growth opportunity. It’s a calling I’ve never held (which is saying something). It’s a calling that some of my friends have been jealous of and some have been thrilled that it’s me not them.
I’ll be teaching Gospel Doctrine.
I’m not entirely sure what to expect. We have a great ward, but we do have a few intellectuals, a few “gospel specialists,” and a few contrarians. I’ll keep you posted about how it goes.
I stared for a moment at Sterling Brown. There was something in his eyes—almost panic. I could tell he wanted to say something. But now he studied my face, as if he were trying to determine if he could trust me.
“My son,” he whispered into the phone. “They have my son.”
“They’ve been trying to get me too,” I whispered back. “I escaped just in time.”
For a moment neither of us spoke. The strangeness of it all. The weight of the situation. The feeling that one of “them” might be anywhere.
“There was another guy that almost escaped with me, but they use drugs and stuff to keep people trapped. He went right back to them.”
“I wish I knew how to help,” Mr. Brown said. “But everything I’ve tried … I’m not sure I can do anything.”
Sterling Brown shook his head and then leaned forward. I looked at his eyes again. Then in a flash, like I had seen his eyes before in a dream, his face was familiar. His dark eyes. The same eyes. … Pervis’ eyes.
“Is your son Pervis?” I asked tentatively.
Mr. Brown’s eyes grew wide. He swallowed hard and nodded. “Pervis is my son.”
“And your daughter. She’s in it too.”
Mr. Brown sat up, his brow furrowed. “What?”
“Your daughter, Pervis’ sister, she’s the one who tried to get me into the Society.”
He shook his head. “I don’t have a daughter. … What are you talking about?”
Just then an officer appeared behind me. “Time’s up,” he said as he wrapped a large hand around my upper arm.
I looked at Sterling Brown’s face. “He wants out, Mr. Brown.”
The officer lifted me out of my seat.
Mr. Brown rapped on the plexiglass and held up one finger to the officer. “One more minute,” he said loudly.
The officer shook his head.
Mr. Brown put the phone back to his ear. “I’ll do what I can for you, Alexander,” he whispered into the phone.
“I think I saw your son, Mr. Brown. At a warehouse on the west side. A fenced parking lot. No sign on the building—”
“That’s enough!” The officer interrupted as he ripped the phone out of my hand and hung it up.
Sterling Brown stood up from his chair. We paused for a moment looking at each other. Then he nodded at me and the officer pulled me down the hall.
######
I paced back and forth in my cell until it was dark. The events of the last few days played over in my mind. My whole life was shrouded, like I couldn’t get a clear view of anything. Yet I could feel the pull, the undercurrent sweeping everything along. But I didn’t know where.
Finally, exhaustion overcame me and I collapsed onto the bunk and fell asleep.
She came to me in my dream again. She was standing in the mud. By the tracks. She didn’t say a word, but her pale blue eyes said everything. She knew where my dad was.
The sound of the key turning in my cell door woke me. It was still dark and the jail was silent. I felt my stomach twist inside me. What was going to happen now?
The man in the doorway motioned with his hand. “Come with me,” he said.
I slowly stood up from the bunk and rubbed my eyes. “Where are we going?” I asked, not really expecting an answer.
“Just come with me,” he said again.
I stepped towards him and suddenly in the darkness I recognized him. It was Pervis. I froze. Where would they be taking me in the middle of the night?
Pervis put a finger to his lips and shook his head. I took one step back, but he caught me by the elbow. Then he looked me in the eye.
Something was different about him. The frighten child of a man I had seen earlier in the day was gone. I relaxed and followed him out of my cell.
To my surprise, he lead me away from the front entrance. He unlocked a door and we walked down a dark hallway. We passed through two more locked doors. Pervis seemed to have a key for every door.
Then we came to a large door with a window. I could tell it lead outside. Pervis paused for a moment, then unlocked the door and we stepped outside.
He grabbed me tightly by the arm as we walked out the door. It surprised me and I tried to turn to look at his face. But he pushed me forward. My heart began to pound.
Suddenly, I noticed two leather jackets in the shadows. They took a half step forward, but Pervis motioned something to them and they stepped back. We walked away from the jail, Pervis still holding my arm.
After we rounded the corner, he let go of me. “Sorry about that,” he said.
We walked another block in silence. Then from a dark doorway stepped a man. I hesitated, but Pervis kept walking. “It’s OK,” he whispered.
The man took a step toward Pervis. “Well done, Pervis. Did anyone follow you?”
“I don’t think so,” Pervis answered.
Then the man turned toward me. I saw his face clearly for the first time. It was Sterling Brown.
“We don’t have much time,” Mr. Brown said to me. He held out a key to me and motioned with his head to a car parked behind him.
“I don’t understand,” I said.
“Take it. It’s the least I could do for the help you’ve given us.”
I reached out slowly for the key.
“It won’t take them long to find that Pervis has betrayed them. So you’d better hurry.” Mr. Brown said.
“Thanks,” I finally said.
“Thank you,” Pervis said. “If it weren’t for you, I’d still be trapped.”
“I registered the car to Jonathan Flores,” Mr. Brown said.
I was stunned. I hadn’t heard my real name in so many years.
“That’s right, isn’t it?” Mr. Brown asked.
I nodded.
“Thanks,” I said again. Then I shook their hands and climbed into the car.
As I pulled away, I knew exactly where I had to go first.
#######
I stepped into the shanty and hurriedly shook my father’s shoulder. “Dad,” I said, “Dad, it’s over. The truth is out now. … But we need to go.”
“Where?” he asked after clearing his throat.
“We just have to get away from here. … I have a car.”
He stood up and looked around his little hut. In one corner, he picked up a small box and tucked it under his arm.
Then he looked me in the eye. “It’s really over?”
“Yes,” I said.
“You are my son again?”
“Yes, Dad. I am Jonathan.”
Moments later we were on the highway. I accelerated and checked my rear view mirror. No one was following. The lights of the city glowed in the darkness. As we reached the outskirts of town, the rain began to fall.
I really really really really really thought I was going to get finished with Fog of Dreams. Really.
But you know how it goes sometimes. Life just gets in the stinking way. I promise not to leave you hanging much longer.
Thanks for visiting.
Hi, here’s my pet. I call him “Peeve.”
I unexpectedly find this pet peeve when walking into workplace restrooms and find that some recent visitor found it too hard to flush the dadgum toilet.
Seriously, what is wrong with people? Is it really possible to forget? Or are people really in that big of a hurry to get back to work?
I don’t get it.
I don’t know what else to say.
So what gets under your skin? Is this purely a men’s room phenomenon? Or do the ladies sometimes behave irresponsibly as well?
