Lights From Heaven

Episode One.

We came to Arizona the same way everybody else did, in a 3-D magnetically enhanced box. Only ours was a replica ’76 Jaguar XJS. I liked the top down, and the car was red when I drove. Silver otherwise. We were accompanied by Cleveland the educated mouse and his feline companion, Claire. They were part of the package deal included with purchase of A Contemporary Travelogue. “Do you fellows want to see more? I can connect you to a flyover tour in two minutes, thirty-five seconds,” squeaked Cleveland. The mouse was riding in my shirt pocket.

 We could see it pretty well from here, the canyon.  Billy and I hung back. The edge was too crowded with the small folk, those without ocular transplants. They came in by the busload in those big rectangles on wheels, optically enhanced to look like something beautifully sleek. With our transplants we could see the buses for what they were, but Billy, my latest travel companion, liked to imagine the transports as dinosaurs on the hoof. They were behind us now, grazing in the parking lot just over the ridge. I could see the fun in that, so dinosaurs it was.

 Claire mewed, she was an agreeable cat but occasionally she would take a mean swipe at Cleveland, as cats were known to do. She often had a hungry look. And that was that, my stomach gurgled. There was nothing enhanced vision could do for that.

 “Later, maybe,” I said. “Is there a diner or food cart around?” No response.

 “Gotta say the name,” said Billy. “Cleveland, we’re hungry as a cat. Food, bro.”

 Cleveland the mouse ducked into my pocket and popped back up with a hardbound book too big for his anthropomorphic hands. “Gentlemen, you will need to reenter your vehicle and leave the park. Here is a list of suitable restaurants, the nearest is thirty minutes.” The mouse pocketed the book and smoothed his whiskers. “Meow,” purred Claire, meaning she wanted to drive. Fine, as long as we got there fast.

 We took the fast lane, autodrive, but the cat was having a great time pretend steering and we were getting dizzy as she careened off of one red rock canyon wall, then another. Billy finally revoked her driving privileges, and we reclined in the comfortable bucket seats while watching real, actual, scenery go by. Claire sulked. By the time we made it down to whereabouts Coconino, the sun was setting behind some large grayish hills. It got dark fast in the forested lands there. The pines went from green to black and we saw some reflected eyeballs looking out from the tree line. “Mule deer,” squeaked the mouse.

 I said “Food,” and Cleveland said we were close. Soon we came out of the forest and a haze of light blurred out the faint stars overhead and the Jag dropped into the right lane and left the highway. The little town below lined both sides of the four lane road with quaint brick motels, antique stores, and restaurants. “First available steak house,” I said, and the car turned left and parked. Billy and I climbed out and started in, when all the lights suddenly went out.

 The Jaguar reverted to its rectangle shape, dusty from the trip, and the small weight of a mouse disappeared from my pocket. All of the dinosaurs that were shuffling quietly in the lots became big boxes and everything generally took on a mundane, grimy patina. Most of the people meandering in the town didn’t skip a beat, but some, like me and Billy, stopped for a moment in our tracks and looked up. I put my hand up to shade what was coming. A pinprick of a light sparked in the eastern quadrant of the heavens and grew brightly until the flash disappeared and became all encompassing, then it slowly faded and everything was once again dark. A big brontosaurus thundered past us, raising dust from the road. A brick dislodged from the three story building we were entering and Billy kicked it away.

 “Big update,” said Billy.

 “Yeah,” I felt a familiar scratch from my pocket. “Man, I’m starved.”

Episode Two.