Transmissions of the White Dragon

Transmissions
of the
White Dragon
TOLLY BURKAN
FOUNDER OF THE FIREWALKING MOVEMENT
www.TollyBurkan.com
Transmissions of the White Dragon
© 2007 by Tolly Burkan
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and places are fictitious or are
used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
– Dedicated with love to my daughter Amber –
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
For their insights and suggestions, the author would like to express his gratitude and appreciation
to Amber Burkan, Mark Bruce Rosin, Sarah Rogers Nesper, Jeph Solo, Timothy Bone and Barry
Burkan.
www.TollyBurkan.com
2
Chapter One: Batman
Jason was seventeen years old when the idea occurred to him that he could earn more
than the measly wage he was now making as a stock-boy in the grocery store where he had been
working for almost 11 months.
So, in mid-December, he resigned from his job and ran an ad in the Sunday Chronicle:
Santa for hire. Xmas Eve appearances at your home. Treat your kids! $100 for 15 min.
It required a lot of padding to transform his lean, fit, athletic body into jolly old Claus,
and massive amounts of latex and makeup, but he was now $800 richer.
Before New Year’s day, Jason had a plan to keep the good times rollin’.
Jason was a thinker. Besides having a black belt in Tae Kwon Do, Jason maintained
straight “A”s in high school and had a 4.35 GPA, since he took only Advanced Placement
courses.
His dazzling smile, golden blond hair and riveting blue eyes were put together in a way
that gave him the kind of good-looks that made him a magnet for girls. He had a rather
humorous reputation in this department. He never asked any girls to go out with him. THEY
asked him. His calendar was always full, but he never went out with any girl more than once.
Consequently, just about every girl in the senior class had been out with Jason: the fat and ugly
ones as well as the most stunningly gorgeous.
Since he never said “no” to a girl; it couldn’t be a boost to any girl’s ego if she was seen
at a party with Jason Wagner... even though he did look a lot like a young Greek god. His quirky
reputation was famous. If he had a fault, it was only this: hubris. Like everyone else, but even
more so, he perceived Jason as a helluva great guy. Jay never tried to be humble; as he felt it
was more important that he be honest.
Jason’s ad on December 28th read: Super Hero of your choice. Will appear at the stroke
of midnight for your New Year’s Eve Y2K party. $500. Go for it!
He only got one response. But that’s all he needed.
On December 31, 1999, Jason spent the better part of the day constructing his Batman
costume.
Using his imagination, and skills he acquired from Tae Kwon Do and years of
gymnastics at school, Jason choreographed a short routine that he knew would entertain and
draw some thunderous applause. He downloaded the Batman theme-song from the Internet and
burned a CD he could play on the sound system at the party.
*
*
*
www.TollyBurkan.com
3
On January 1, 2000, Jason slept until after noon. The knocking on the door of his
bedroom roused him... from one of the deepest sleeps of his young life.
“Jay.”
Jason heard his name, but was reluctant to leave his dream. He blinked his eyes open—
then realized it was Y2K and the predicted doom of the planet had not materialized.
“Jay.”
It was Ryan, Jason’s younger brother by 16 months. They were a family of three, since
the death of the kids’ father almost four years before. Jason and Ryan were exceptionally close
now. Before their father had died in a fishing accident, the two boys were never close; they were
constantly quarreling and competing with each other. Their sibling rivalry had kept them from
ever being friends; but since 1996, they were tight—really tight. It’s amazing how quickly some
children can mature following the loss of a parent.
“You awake Bro’?”
“Yeah, come in.”
Ryan was the same exact height as his older brother, six-foot even. If he worked out a
bit, he would look almost like a twin. But at sixteen, Ryan was thinner than a string bean.
Intellectually, he was not Jason’s equal; however, when it came to computers, Ryan was
absolutely incredible. He was the geek that the school office was always calling to fix the high
school’s system—after all the local professionals had only succeeded in making the original
problem ten times worse.
“How’d the party go, Jay?”
“It was pretty unbelievable, Rin.” Jason called his younger brother by the name he had
used from the time he was first learning to speak. “I think I’ll need a couple of days to chill. It
was really unbelievable.”
“Sweet. Tell me about it.”
“Well it was in a big banquet room at a golf club. The guy who hired me is a rich doctor,
and he invited over 200 people. I guess I forgot to ask how many would be at the party. When I
arrived in my street clothes at about 10:30 to check out everything and figure out how to play my
Batman music on the sound system, I was sort of amazed at how many people were there. The
doctor laughed when I told him I was going to play my music on the sound system. He’d hired a
band for the party, and sure enough, he had already told them in advance that they would be
expected to play Batman’s Theme Song.” Jason shook his head, as if he himself was in disbelief
while remembering what had happened the night before. “Rin, they knew how to play Batman’s
Theme Song!”
www.TollyBurkan.com
4
“Sweet,” Ryan interrupted.
“There was this big stage they had set up for the party. The band was on one side, and I
had use of the other side of the stage. So I told them what I was going to do, where I was going
to place my springboard, the amount of space I needed—and we planned out exactly how the
music would work.”
“Right on.” Ryan was enjoying the tale.
“At midnight, these indoor fireworks went off. I’ve never seen anything like it. The
band started playing ‘Bat-Man!’ and colored spotlights moved all around the stage. I entered
with three handsprings, hit the springboard, and did a double flip. I had to stitch my cape with a
thin thread so I wouldn’t get tangled in it when I made my entrance. As soon as my feet hit the
floor, I broke the thread free and went into my black belt routine.”
“Dude!” Ryan’s jaw was slack as he relished the images of his brother doing these
familiar moves... in a Batman costume!
“I finished with all those airborne stunts I do with the gymnastics team at football games,
and ended with the modified helicopter kick that won me the trophy last year.”
“Whoa!”
www.TollyBurkan.com
5
Chapter Two: The Week after the Night Before
During the first seven days of the new Millennium, Jason received over a dozen phone
calls from people who had seen him New Year’s Eve. Several people wanted Batman to appear
at their child’s birthday party; one store manager wanted Batman at a new store-opening; a
features editor at the San Francisco Chronicle wanted to interview him for a story; the rich
doctor wanted to secure him for next New Year’s Eve; and a few people wanted to brainstorm
ways his services could be employed for their various upcoming events.
It was five o’clock Thursday afternoon. Jason was sitting at his desk doing calculus
homework. He had a calc exam the next day. School had resumed and mundane life was again a
part of Batman’s reality. But at least he wasn’t stacking shelves with boxes of Cheerios for
$6.75 an hour. And yesterday, he added $1,300 to his bank account.
Jason’s cell phone chirped.
“Hey,” Jason answered. It was Ryan.
“Heya Jay.”
“S’up Rin?”
“You going boarding with us this weekend?”
The Wagners had a vacation home in Tahoe and both boys were avid snowboarders.
Ryan, however, was truly the star in this arena. Whereas Jason excelled in Martial Arts and
gymnastics, Ryan was a hot dog on the slopes. He wasn’t really a geek. It was just his
eyeglasses, extreme skinniness, and computer expertise that perpetuated the myth. His attitude
was actually more punk. He didn’t dress punk, but he hung with that crowd. On a skate or
snowboard, his abilities were unrivaled.
“Rin, this week is getting really crazy. I want to go, but I have this big test tomorrow,
and there’s all this Batman stuff, and—”
“Jay! Dude, if you don’t go, it’s off. You gotta drive!”
“Right. OK,” he easily consented. He loved boarding.
The boys’ mother had been talking about selling the Tahoe cabin ever since their dad
died. Though Mick Wagner was making good money teaching at UC, he had no life insurance.
As a 37-year-old man in perfect health, it had never occurred to him. He never imagined himself
being killed in an accident. Their mom, Janet, had always been a housewife and had not worked
since she was a teenager. Now, her present income came from cleaning houses. It was rather
meager, but she enjoyed being self-employed. For the past three years, she supplemented her
income with a line of credit linked to home equity loans on both houses. Understanding that she
was rapidly depleting her greatest financial resource, Janet Wagner resolved to sell both houses,
www.TollyBurkan.com
6
the Tahoe cabin first, and the Victorian after both boys graduated high school. Once the Tahoe
cabin was sold, opportunities for snowboarding were going to be far less. Both boys knew that.
“Sure, I’ll drive,” Jason affirmed with resolve.
“Woo-hoo. I’ll tell Travis. Awesome.” Travis was Ryan’s best friend, and always
accompanied him when he went boarding at Tahoe.
“’K. Later.” Jason clicked off his cell and checked the weather report for the weekend at
Weather.com. “Lookin’ good,” he mused to himself. A smile crept across his lips as he
fantasized boarding the expert slope at Heavenly Valley... in his Batman costume. “I don’t think
so,” was the thought that sobered him and returned him to his calculus studies.
Jason inherited his father’s intellect. Mick Wagner had been a professor in the Physics
Department. Many physics majors at CAL—of all the campuses in the vast University of
California system, only UC Berkeley could be called “CAL”—were students who would
someday be designing and building nuclear reactors all over the globe. Physics professors at
CAL Berkeley were an elite group. Maybe it was because they inevitably had connections to the
inner circles of The Government, whether they liked it or not, through the University’s ties with
the Livermore and Los Alamos nuclear labs. It was strange, Jason thought, that FBI and CIA
agents visited the house after his father drowned. Of course, he still didn’t know that it wasn’t a
fishing accident at all. Jason’s dad was out on the Bay doing work-related research. Oh yes, his
death was indeed a tragic accident, but if it had been known that Mick was “working,” then there
would have been millions of dollars in liability insurance money that the surviving Wagners
would have been entitled to receive. But since that aspect of his work was top—TOP—secret,
everyone believed Mick was fishing.
Ryan, in contrast to his older brother, had inherited most of his traits from his mother.
Though the boys looked alike in their appearance, their brains were wired completely differently.
Ryan was more spontaneous, never aced any math or science classes, and played video-games on
his PC with incredible motor skills and eye-hand coordination. This is not meant to suggest that
he wasn’t capable of straight “A”s, he just wasn’t “academically inclined,” as his mother would
say.
Jason was just getting back into the calc problem he was working on when the phone
chirped again. He was about to consider letting it go to voice mail, but TTCD—teenagetelephone-compulsion-disorder—took over, and he clicked it on with an automatic reflex.
“Hey.”
“Me again Jay,” said Ryan.
“Rin, let me do my homework―”
“Travis wants to know if Amy can come with us?”
www.TollyBurkan.com
7
Amy was Travis’s older sister, and like Jason, a senior. Jason had been out with her
once, but only once, of course. She was cute, but she wasn’t a very good boarder. Jason wasn’t
particularly attracted to her, so he had to quickly consider whether this might confuse things—by
sending some kind of wrong message to Amy. He figured that except for the ride up and back,
he probably wouldn’t see too much of her, since they’d use different lifts. He knew she wouldn’t
be on the same slopes that he’d be bombing. The way Heavenly was configured, there was slim
chance of him seeing her at all actually.
“’K.”
“Tight!” was all Ryan responded before clicking off.
Jason chuckled as he recalled some of the weird stories he had heard about Amy and
snowboarding. She either had bad luck or she just was not a good boarder. Last year she even
broke her collar bone. Her excuse was funny, but true. Apparently an older woman on skis had
dropped her pants to pee behind some trees, when she suddenly lost her balance and started
down the intermediate slope backward, with her pants down, screaming at the top of her lungs.
Amy was so startled by the sight of this bare-assed woman sailing past her backward and out of
control, that she herself wound up slamming into a tree. The bare-bottomed woman eventually
fell, broke a leg, and the ski patrol had to rescue both of them and load them into an ambulance.
Jason had been sufficiently interrupted that his calculus studies were now suffering.
“Better check my e-mail,” he thought.
Slogging through the spam, Jason searched for a handle he recognized. No mail.
Bummer. Jason loved getting e-mail... of course! He was a teenager. Without admitting to
himself that he was disappointed, he randomly opened a piece of spam.
“Create the world you dream with every choice you make.”
—Stephen C. Paul
He didn’t recognize the sender, but liked the one-line message, and printed it out. Then
he deleted everything from his in-box, including the many, many Clinton-Lewinsky jokes.
www.TollyBurkan.com
8
Chapter Three: Calculus
Thursday evening found Jay exhausted. Exhilarated too, but exhausted nonetheless. He
set his PC on random-play and began listening to the 900 songs he pirated using Napster, picked
up his calc book with every intention of studying, but his mind kept wandering.
Jay tried to sort through his feelings, looking for the reason he couldn’t concentrate on
the calculus problems. At first he wasn’t willing to dig beneath the surface, but all of a sudden,
the truth behind his agitation became clear: he was missing his father. He realized that if a magic
genie was able to grant him one wish, he’d wish that Mick had not been killed. Memories of his
deceased father soon filled his mind, and homework was forgotten.
Jason reached underneath the Lazy-Boy he was sitting in, grasped a box, and slid it from
beneath the recliner. The box contained a ouija board. Ryan had given it to him for Christmas,
and that same day, he had slipped it under the massive chair without yet having tried it. He
removed the ouija from the box and decided he would use it to attempt speaking with his father.
A part of him thought that the whole process was silly; but another part of him truly hoped that
the mysterious board might provide a portal to another world.
“Dad, I miss you so much,” the boy whispered. He placed the board on his lap and put
the pointer in the middle. “Can you hear me Dad?” Jason whispered, with barely a sound
emerging from his lips. He lightly touched the pointer and waited for it to move. Nothing
happened. “Can you hear me Dad?” he repeated, but no more audibly than the first time. The
pointer still did not move.
After several more attempts, with no results, Jay was in conflict whether to continue
trying or to give up. “Dad, can you hear me?” The pointer stirred. It moved toward the word
YES. Instead of rejoicing, Jay said to himself, “I want it to move so badly, I’m sure I’m probably
just doing it myself.” He re-boxed the ouija board and slid it back under the Lazy-Boy.
Returning to his calculus studies, Jason tried to dismiss all thoughts about the ouija board. But it
wasn’t easy.
*
*
*
His mother woke him at ten. “Jay. Jay. Honey, why don’t you go sleep in your bed and
turn off the music.”
Jason awoke with a start. “What the—?” He quickly glanced at the digital alarm on the
night table. “I don’t believe I did this,” he anguished. “I REALLY need to study for that test
tomorrow.”
Janet saw her son’s drooping eyelids and, as a mother, she knew that he REALLY needed
to go to sleep. But she was wise and held her arguments to herself. All she said was, “Well,
Sweetie, you could always wake up early and study tomorrow morning.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
9
Janet Wagner was a tender and loving parent. She used few words, but she was eloquent
and articulate. Her words were often like jewels. Their quantity was replaced with quality. She
was the source of the boys’ good looks. Whereas Mick’s good-looks would be called “rugged,”
Janet was a definite “hottie.” She was presently 36, and being only 19 years older than Jason, he
often heard the guys at school talk about how cute she was. But though she was a real looker,
Janet was the epitome of conservatism. Her father was a Baptist Minister, and she was never the
daughter who rebelled. She certainly didn’t attend church any more, not since Mick died, but
she was moral and unshakable in her belief in God—but on her own terms. The boys inherited
their blond hair from their mom, and her winning smile. She stood five-seven, had played girls’
soccer in high school, and seemed tighter today—after two births—than she did in twelfth grade.
She and Mick married just after she graduated high school. He, being five years older, was
already in grad school working on his Masters degree, with enough income as a tutor and
teaching- assistant, that money wasn’t an issue.
“You’re right Mom, I’m spent,” Jason mumbled as his lids fluttered.
Five minutes later, Jason was snug in bed, lights out. He didn’t even brush his teeth.
And he didn’t remember to set the alarm-clock either.
That night, Jason’s sleep was extremely deep. His dreams were vivid, strange, a bit
disturbing. The ouija board flirted with him through much of the night. It morphed into a
seductive, dancing gypsy woman who made him drink a magic potion. It became a teasing genie
who laughed at him whenever he requested wishes. Finally, the ouija board returned to its
original shape and was carried away by a fluttering of bats.
Throughout the night there always seemed to be bats connected to his many dreams.
Even within his own dreams, while asleep, he was aware of this oddity. It wasn’t until the bats
were circling him at his desk in calculus class—that he became aware—that he was still sleeping,
and that he had forgotten to set his alarm, so he could get up early and study for the calculus test.
“Shit!” he exclaimed, leaping from his bed at 7:30 the next morning.
He rode his bike to school and barely made the bell. He worried—non-stop—about his
calculus test. Jason actually loved school. He loved learning. He loved scoring straight As in
his classes. He was so much like his father that way. Of course he’d attend CAL. He wouldn’t
know ‘til April if he was formally accepted, but there was really no doubt in anyone’s mind that
he was going to be going to CAL... with a scholarship. Duh! His father’s death certainly insured
THAT. Even if he didn’t have a 4.5 GPA, he was Berkeley bound. But that wasn’t the point for
Jason. He LOVED calculus. He LOVED science. You only have to look at his room to realize
that, in many ways, he is just a typical teenage boy; but also, in other ways, he was an old soul
that enjoyed learning for learning’s sake. He was so like his father; just a very young scientist.
When Jason walked through the door of his calc class, he was actually sweating. His
hairy armpits were wet and his stomach was wrenched with a knot that was physically
uncomfortable. Besides the fact that he was anxious, he was also mentally beating himself up for
the stupidity of failing to set the alarm. He was definitely not in the right state of mind for taking
a test.
www.TollyBurkan.com
10
Jay slid into his seat and took a couple of long, slow breaths—the kind he was taught in
Tae Kwon Do. It was not that easy. He was still thinking to himself, “Shit! I’m such an ass!”
When the test was laid in front of him, he stared at it in disbelief. He hardly knew any of
this stuff. “Shit! Shit! Double-shit!” was all his mind was capable of responding, when he saw
the very material he was preparing to study last night... but—instead—he went off to dreamland
with Mister Sandman. Jason skipped around the exam searching for the questions to which he
knew the answers. There were quite a few. But the majority of the test focused on the new
material that he hadn’t yet studied.
All the remaining calc problems were mind-numbing barriers. Jason’s stomach started
manufacturing gas. So, in addition to stressing-out over being unprepared for the test, he was
now struggling with making sure he didn’t fart in class. Life was cruel. His father was taken
from him when he was only 14. He was still a virgin. And now he had gas. Bummer!
Jason had never taken drugs of any kind. He was an athlete: a Martial Artist and
gymnast. He wouldn’t experiment with tobacco, pot, none of it. Rin liked pot, but Jay was
straight as an arrow. So, when he started hallucinating in calc class, you can imagine his
chagrin. As he sat there, slumped over his desk, he started seeing bats circling over his head.
The same bats, in fact, that he had seen in his dream: the ones that made him jump out of bed.
One bat was different from the rest. It was distinctly grayish in color. It swooshed down toward
his head, and as it glided past his left ear, it whispered, “Let it be easy.”
Jason was so startled that he farted out loud. Some class-mates snickered, Jay turned
beet-red, and everyone else either pretended that they didn’t hear it; or assumed a facial
expression that seemed to say: “I NEVER fart!” Yet, even as his embarrassment was causing
him to agonize, a sense of astonishment was overwhelming him. The bat was communicating
with him. His fingers tingled. His mind seemed to go blank.
Suddenly, the bell rang.
Jason was puzzled and dazed when he left class. But he didn’t have time to sort out his
thoughts because Ryan cornered him as soon as he was in the hallway.
“Hey Dude, I told Travis and Amy we’d pick them up at five. Jay, Dude, you’re lookin’
sorta’—well, pretty fly, actually,” Rin giggled, ribbing his older bro’. “What’s with you today?”
“Hey Rin,” Jay sort of blinked. “I think I experienced an altered state, or something,
during the calc test.”
“Well you look—I dunno’—like maybe you’re on something.” Ryan laughed long and
loud, thinking that the very idea of his brother being high was as far-fetched as any funny
thought could be.
www.TollyBurkan.com
11
“Rin, could someone have slipped me some drug yesterday without me knowing it?” Jay
asked with a child-like and vulnerable demeanor.
“Don’t be a dork, Jay,” was all Ryan could respond before Travis was upon them.
“Dude, I’m so stoked about going to Tahoe tonight. Sorry about Amy having to come
along—but my parents are out of town and if she didn’t come, guys, like, I couldn’t come.”
Travis rolled his eyes as he pleaded his case. Travis was a head shorter than the brothers. He
had carrot-colored hair, with natural Shirley Temple curls, that he let grow to about an inch
below his ears. When in public, his eyes always seemed to be laughing at a silly, unspoken joke.
“Don’t sweat it Trav. It’s gonna be a killer weekend,” Ryan replied with his head
bobbing up and down.
Jason was feeling more than a bit disoriented and decided to cut his next class. He
peddled his bike home and went upstairs to his room to lie down. He wasn’t sure how long he
had been lying there when the phone rang in his mother’s room. He heard her phone machine
give the greeting and then he heard the voice of his calculus teacher. “Hello Mrs. Wagner. This
is Sid Marsh, Jason’s calculus teacher. I’m a bit concerned, and have reason to suspect, Jason
may have cheated on his exam. He got a perfect 100% score, which wouldn’t ordinarily be
suspicious at all—but I included several trick problems that none of the students were prepared
to answer. The only way Jason could have gotten those answers was from the folder I had left on
my desk. I hope you understand that this is a serious matter. Please don’t discuss this with your
son until we’ve had time to talk. My cell number is—”
Jason was outraged! How dare Marsh accuse him of cheating. Sid Marsh—of ALL
PEOPLE. He was a friend of the family. He knew Mick before—Jason’s mind stopped, as he
realized someone had just opened the front door.
Rin was in school, so it must be his mother, he thought. She was sure to be angry that he
had cut class, and then when she heard the message tape, she was really going to boil. Jason
tried to organize his thoughts so he could appease his mother. It occurred to him that if he
couldn’t convince her of his innocence, she would force him to cancel the Tahoe trip. Before his
thoughts came together, however, three men burst into his room and knocked him unconscious.
Batman never had a moment to respond with all his fancy helicopter kicks and trophy-winning
maneuvers.
www.TollyBurkan.com
12
Chapter Four: Tahoe
Jason was tied and gagged and stuffed into the trunk of a car. He didn’t know that. He
was unconscious and dreaming that he was in Tahoe. It had been the most rad day on the slopes.
He met a teenager his own age who was a native Me-Wuk. He learned that the Me-Wuk tribes
were the Native Americans of the Sierra Mountains surrounding Lake Tahoe. His everyday
name was Tim, though his tribal name was Raven. Jason invited him back to the cabin to hot tub
with the rest of the gang.
In Jason’s dream, he was sitting in the hot tub with Rin, Travis, Amy and Raven. They
partied late, and everyone except Jason and Raven had gone to sleep. Jason told Raven about his
dreams, particularly the bats, also about being Batman New Year’s Eve, and then he told him
about the bats in calculus class and the message left by Mr. Marsh.
“The bat must be your power animal,” Raven said very matter-of-factly.
“What does that mean?” asked Jason.
“My people believe that we occupy only one dimension. But there are beings in other
dimensions who can see us—even if we can’t see them. Sometimes a power animal pays
particular attention to us. Even though they exist on another dimension and we can’t see them
with our eyes, we can sometimes communicate with them and they can communicate with us.
We can often feel their presence even when we cannot see them with our physical eyes.” Raven
spoke with a conviction that resonated with deep knowledge.
Jason then asked Raven if he knew anything about ouija boards. “I remember my
grandfather calling a ouija board unfamiliar medicine. He had been to a seance, and was
convinced that using ouija boards opens a door to another world.”
Suddenly, the car swerved; and Jason rolled over into an extremely uncomfortable
position. His discomfiture woke him.
“Holy shit,” were the first words that sprang into his mind. Maybe it was because he
watched a lot of TV and movies, but he instantly assessed that he was bound and gagged in the
back of a car’s trunk. He felt awful. He tried to remember what had occurred before he lost
consciousness. He remembered nothing. There was that call from Mr. Marsh, the front door
opened, then three guys and BLACK–– “Ouch!” that was some goose-egg he had on his head.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been unconscious, but he guessed that another two hours
passed between the time he opened his eyes and when the car finally came to a stop. He figured
they were somewhere in the mountains, as the temperature kept dropping every minute he lay in
the trunk.
When the trunk lid opened, three men wearing face-covering ski-masks yanked him out
and tossed him on the snow. The biggest of the three immediately bent over him and blindfolded
www.TollyBurkan.com
13
his eyes. His hands were already tied behind him, he was gagged, and now blindfolded. And the
worst part of it all—he had to pee.
Everything was happening so fast—but not so fast that he didn’t recognize that his
captors had taken him to Tahoe. To his amazement, he was only a few short miles from the
family cabin. The landmarks were distinctive and unmistakable—especially to a teenage boy
who had been here many, many times.
“Well they have to let me pee,” Jason thought. “They have to untie me sometime. Then
they’ll get some samples of how a Martial Artist delivers payback.” He started planning how he
would use his Black Belt skills. He also knew a route to escape—he knew people that lived
about a half-mile from here.
Jason was pushed and shoved along an unplowed course and was eventually jostled up a
few stairs and into a toasty house being heated by a well-stoked wood-stove. If they kept jolting
him about he was sure his bladder would come undone any minute.
“Here’s the scoop kid. Do as you’re told and you won’t get hurt.” Jason was as attentive
as he had ever been in his life. He felt like a buck with headlights in his eyes, and ten shotguns
pointing down at him. He froze. Not a muscle twitched. His mind was empty of thought. He
was simply waiting.
“We’re wise to your karate thing kid.” He thought he recognized that voice! It was a
different voice that had just spoken, “We’re wise to your karate thing kid.” Where did he know
that voice from?
“Yeah kid,” came the original voice. “You try any of your karate stuff and we just shoot
you—bang, bang—and you’re dead. I hope you got that, ‘cause I really don’t wanna kill you.”
Jason felt like he was going to hurl. His mouth was gagged with cloth and duct tape, and
he had premonitions of choking to death on his own vomit.
“So here it is kid, we’re putting you in a room. It has a bathroom and towels and all the
nice stuff so you can think it’s a hotel. But the walls are thin. So you gotta be real quiet. If
you’re real quiet, you are free inside your little suite... no ropes, no gag. But you make one little
peep, and you lie in that room with hands tied and mouth gagged.” The speaker delivered all this
at very close range, almost whispering into Jason’s right ear.
He continued, “I’m going to loosen the ropes on your wrists and put you in a room.
When you hear the door close and latch, you will be able to wiggle out of the ropes in about two
minutes. There’s clean clothes, a fully equipped bathroom with a shower and a Jacuzzi. There’s
also a TV with MTV kid—so we really want you to know we’re looking after your comfort. We
got the satellite just for you.”
Jason was sure he was going to pee in his pants and he tried to say so. His mumbling was
misunderstood. “Oh right, food. Yeah there’s some food in there too. There’s a little doggie-
www.TollyBurkan.com
14
door that we’ll send food through. And that’s how you communicate with us—through the little
doggie-door. There’s paper and pencil, so you just send notes. We ain’t gonna like, talk to you.
Did you understand everything?”
Jason nodded, hoping that the ropes would soon loosen so he could pee at last. He was
moved around, the ropes were loosened, the door closed, and then latched. In 30 seconds,
Jason’s hands were free. He ripped the blindfold from his eyes, zeroed in on the bathroom, and
performed the long-over-due ritual that binds us all.
When Jason emerged from the bathroom, he surveyed where he was. Basically, it looked
like a room at a Ramada or Holiday Inn. There was nothing distinguishing about it. Heat came
from a floor vent. The window had been covered with thick plywood, bolted in such a way, so
that he really had no hope of escape via that avenue.
Jason sat down on the bed. “Perhaps I’m dreaming this,” Jason thought with some
conviction. He remembered a line in Hamlet that the English teacher had read: What dreams
may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil must give us pause.
Maybe he was dead!?
Perhaps he was losing his mind?
Of course he wasn’t yet aware that his father had finally solved the mystery of cold
fusion. It was probably the best-kept secret in the entire world. Just like the government had its
own reasons and agenda regarding the official policy that explicitly instructed NASA to keep any
discovery of extraterrestrial life TOP SECRET; it also had a similar policy regarding Mick
Wagner’s unexpected discovery. The Government, for its own reasons, did not want it known
that unlimited power was available free of charge, in seawater. Since the incredible discovery
ultimately seemed that it would yield no profit, it was best to hide and suppress this scientific
milestone—at least for the time being. As soon as a way could be devised to capitalize on this,
there would be time enough to announce the news to the world.
Jason heard talking in the other room and tried to hear what was being said by putting his
ear close to the vent in his own room. Indeed, he was able to hear more of what was being said,
but he could only distinguish every fifth word or so. He definitely couldn’t follow the gist of the
conversation. Feeling frustrated, he decided to check the tray of food that had been left for him.
There were two turkey and cheese sandwiches with avocado, tomato and sprouts, on whole
wheat bread. They were each in zip-lock plastic bags. There was a bowl filled with trail mix,
another bowl with apples, pears and bananas, several cans of pineapple-coconut juice drinks and
half-a-dozen Yogurt Berry protein bars, all his favorite flavors. “Wait a minute,” Jason thought.
“Whoever put this tray together really knows me. This is the kind of food I always like to eat...
and the ‘Yogurt Berry’ bars, this is no coincidence.”
The task of piecing the puzzle together was far too daunting, so Jason set upon eating the
sandwiches. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. And this was his first food of the day. He
glanced at his watch and was surprised to see it was only 5 o’clock. The window was sealed, so
www.TollyBurkan.com
15
his only way to know the time of day was by wristwatch or TV. It seemed so much longer than
just 24 hours since Rin had convinced him to go boarding.
Jason opened the drawers in the dresser next to the closet. In them, he found clean
underwear, T-shirts and socks. Everything was in his size. In the closet, he found a shelf with
wash cloths, towels and slippers. Several shirts, jeans and Khakis were on hangers. All in his
size. The bathroom was stocked with extra tissue, Q-Tips, razor, soap, after-shave—“My God!”
Jason gasped. “This place looks like it’s been outfitted by my mother.” He knew it was a
preposterous thought, but his captors were obviously not planning to torture him. Or were they?
He wondered if perhaps they would slowly try to brain-wash him by systematically depriving
him of his comforts and amenities?
Before he could wander too far down that road, his sensibilities returned. He stripped
and decided to linger under a hot shower. He was glad to wash. He felt dirty. He felt bruised
and abused. The hot water was soothing. The shampoo stung his head where a huge lump still
throbbed under skin that was sufficiently broken that much dried blood had to be gently
massaged from his hair. His wrists were badly bruised, burned and lacerated from his earlier
struggle against his bindings. After twenty minutes the hot water seemed to be turning lukewarm and Jason left the shower. Next to the tub and shower enclosure was a wall hook with a
plush, terry-cloth robe. Jason slipped it on and headed for the TV.
He instinctively turned to the news stations seeking information that might reveal what
was happening to him. But there was nothing. Not yet. Jason began thinking about the situation
that would be unfolding back home. “Rin will miss me first,” he speculated. “He’ll be cursing
about me being a flake and screwing up his weekend.” Jay wondered how long it would be
before his mother realized that something was wrong and would call the police?
www.TollyBurkan.com
16
Chapter Five: Cold Fusion
Mick Wagner had been intrigued with the idea of cold fusion ever since he was a
freshman in high school. Unlike nuclear fission, that liberated atomic energy by splitting atoms,
fusion joined atoms, and released energy as a byproduct of the process. Ultimately, Professor
Wagner succeeded in his experiments using common sea water, and proved that fusion could
occur without generating the incredible temperatures that accompanied fission. Moreover, the
process, once finally discovered, proved to be economical to the point of absurdity. The energy
was able to be created virtually for free.
Wagner made his breakthrough in 1995. However, there had been many other
researchers whose false starts and partial successes had been reported in the media lately, so he
kept his own discovery very quiet. Government intermediaries, along with his colleagues,
continuously pressed him for his formula. “When I have proven to myself that everything is
100% the way I believe it is, then you can have the details,” was all he’d concede. “And not
before.”
Months of constant work proved that Wagner’s formula was accurate, definitely
reproducible, with consistent results. But still he wouldn’t reveal his secret. His Department
Head called him into a conference early in 1996. “Mick what are you waiting for?” he began.
“It seems you’ve proven that your work is sound. I think it's time you prepared a disc with the
specifics. Well, actually, it’s not just that I think it’s time––”
Mick interrupted, “Relax. It is time. You’ll have the disc within a week. I promise.”
But less than a week later, Mick drowned.
The FBI and CIA searched his computers at work and computers at home. Wherever
Mick kept his research notes, if anywhere, they were not in any of the computers that were
searched, re-searched, and scrubbed. Government interrogators interviewed everyone who might
have even remotely known more than the initial investigation had turned up. But it truly seemed
that Mick Wagner had taken his secret with him to the grave.
The day he died, Mick had told his family that he was going fishing with his friend
Christian. He and Christian loved the sport, and had been out on the Bay in Christian’s boat just
about every day that Mick had free and the weather was nice. Christian was retired, even though
he was only 51 years old, and always loved an opportunity to take his little cabin-cruiser out
beyond the Berkeley Marina, where it was moored. Unless he had company, he rarely fished on
his own.
But lately, Dr. Wagner had this impassioned desire to fish. Mick confided in his old
friend, “Christian, no one must know that I’m doing experiments on your boat. You just set
there and fish, smoke your pipe, and let me do my experiments.”
“Suits me just fine, Mick,” Christian chuckled.
www.TollyBurkan.com
17
The two of them had been out many times, and the ruse seemed to work fine. Christian
fished, never asked questions, and Mick did his experiments. They were out together on the
tragic day of the fatal accident.
“Looks like this is going to be our last trip for a while,” Mick said as he adjusted some
levers on his electronic contraptions. “Tomorrow I’m going to turn in my work. Christian, old
friend, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re standing just a few feet away from a future Nobel Prize
Winner.”
Neither man had noticed that there was a small, but steady, stream of liquid slowly
oozing from one of the electronic devices. As the boat rolled and pitched in the surf, tiny rivulets
of fluid spread along the deck. So, when Christian approached Mick to clap him on the shoulder
and give him a congratulatory handshake, he carelessly tossed aside the match he had just used
to light his pipe. The explosion was heard throughout the East Bay. It resounded from the hills
of Angel Island, turned every head in the nearby Emeryville Marina, and had a rescue craft
speeding from the Berkeley Marina within seconds of the blast.
Miraculously, Christian was unhurt, aside from singed hair and eyebrows. But Mick,
though physically not too badly damaged, had been thrown forcefully into the water, the wind
had been knocked out of him, and stunned, he drowned before he was even able to attempt
swimming for his life. His experiments, his devices, and his briefcase, all his research notes,
discs and important documents, were badly burned before the boat sank. A final, underwater
explosion, destroyed and scattered whatever remnants had remained.
Christian, remorseful that he wasn’t able to somehow rescue his friend, had spent the past
few years going out of his way to befriend and assist the surviving Wagners. He had become so
close to the family, Mrs. Wagner began referring to him as “Uncle Christian,” when she spoke
about him with her boys.
It was around dinner time, the day Jason vanished, when Janet Wagner called to her
younger son, “Ryan, phone Uncle Christian and ask him to come over.”
Janet had been playing Mr. Marsh’s phone message over and over again. When Christian
arrived, she played it again for him. “Christian, you and I know that Jason wouldn’t cheat.”
“Yeah Janet,” he started, “But this Marsh fellow doesn’t know Jason like we do. I can
understand his point. I’m sure all he has to do is talk to Jason about it. There’s obviously some
simple explanation,” Christian concluded.
“I want to talk to Jason about it, but no one seems to know where he is.” Janet called
over her shoulder, “Ryan come in here.” When the lanky teenager entered his mother’s room,
Janet instructed, “Tell Uncle Christian exactly what the plans were that you and your brother had
made for the weekend.”
Ryan related the details of the weekend trip and finished by saying, “At four o’clock, me
and Jay were supposed to be on the front porch with our gear. At five, we were going to pick up
www.TollyBurkan.com
18
Travis and Amy, but as it turned out, they came over here with their gear at 3:45. So Travis, me
and Amy were all here at a quarter-to-four, we waited until five, and finally Travis and Amy left.
Their gear’s still downstairs. It seemed like Jay just flaked out on us. It’s weird really. He’s not
usually such a dork.”
“Christian, shouldn’t I call the police?” Janet asked the family friend.
“Have you called his friends? Maybe someone knows where he’s at.” Christian added,
“If he’s just goofing-off somewhere, you’ll embarrass him if you go calling the police too soon.
I don’t think enough time has gone by for you to be worrying. I was once a teenage boy too, and
there’s a lot that he could be up to right now. Besides, he knows how to take care of himself.”
His attempt to be consoling didn’t seem to be all that effective.
Ryan jumped in, “Man, I’ve been calling all his friends for an hour. I’ve got a vested
interest here. The powder at Heavenly s’posed to be super sick! this weekend.” Of course it
hadn’t yet occurred to anyone that Jason was really in serious trouble.
Janet made dinner for Ryan, Christian and herself. Christian helped prepare the salad.
He was a widower, with no kids of his own, and he really did treat Janet and her boys like the
family he didn’t have. When nine o’clock came, the decision was made to call the Berkeley
Police.
In Tahoe, at nine o’clock, Jason lay on his bed perplexed by two thoughts: 1) Who would
want to kidnap him? It was rather well-known that the Wagner’s were not rich. 2) Who was it
that belonged to the familiar voice he heard that afternoon?
In the next room, the three unknown men were having their own discussion. “As I
understood it,” said one of them, “the plan has different phases. We’re just part of phase one. I
really don’t know what happens next. I just know that we’re not part of it.” The three men
looked at each other trying to learn if any of them had more information than the others.
“All I know,” the familiar-voiced man began, “is that I was supposed to make sure that
nothing happened to the kid. I was also to make sure he had the right food, clothes and stuff,
‘cause I think he could be here awhile.”
The third man added, ”Well, we’re all outta here tomorrow. After that, we remember
nothing.”
In Berkeley, Christian stayed late at the Wagners’. There wasn’t anything he could tell
the police. Mostly, they wanted to talk with Ryan. When they left, they took the tape from the
phone machine. Christian’s role was basically to be a silent, but supportive, friend.
Christian was a rosy-cheeked Dane, with a white well-groomed, captain-like beard. His
white hair and receding hairline gave him the distinguished look of an Ambassador. He was
five-ten, of average build, robust in appearance, and his face had, what could be called: “classic
www.TollyBurkan.com
19
laugh lines.” He was a sincere, kind man. But much of his friendship toward Janet and the boys
was motivated more by guilt than by compassion.
He knew, of course, that Mick was working. If he had spoken out, the Wagners would
have received the benefit of liability insurance carried by the university. But the first rescue boat
on the scene was filled with government agents. Christian was quickly debriefed, and then,
summarily threatened. If he spoke of anything but a fishing accident—to ANYONE—it wasn’t
just his own life at risk. The innuendo was unmistakable; and he figured that the Wagners were
better off with a life of poverty, than with no life at all. And he knew they’d get by.
Janet’s parents were never going to let any of them starve. Mick’s parents were
deceased, so there could be no support coming from that quarter; but the houses had equity, and
the boys were destined to be successful. After all, Ryan was a computer whiz. And Jason, why
on the very day that Mick was killed, before the accident, he had said, pointing to his own head:
“In here, Jason’s got everything that I’ve got,” meaning, of course, that Mick was convinced of
his son’s future success.
One thing that Christian did not know, however, was that he himself played a much
bigger part in the Wagners’ lives than he even realized. Without his knowledge, or, for that
matter, without the knowledge of anyone else, Mick had contacted an old friend of his a few
months prior to his death. His friend worked for Green Peace, the environmental watchdog
group. Mick was quite excited about his experiments. Although he hadn’t yet broken through
the final challenge, he knew he was on the threshold: the threshold of producing massive
amounts of clean energy without pollution, without a lot of cost, without any of the offensive
byproducts that Green Peace seeks to protect us from. He knew that the information of cheap,
clean, abundant energy was something Green Peace would celebrate. At lunch with his friend,
he explained that it was not yet a “given,” but with any luck, the breakthrough was only weeks
away. He swore his friend to secrecy until such time as they had their next meeting. But Mick
died, and their next meeting never happened.
His friend was almost as good as his word. After all, he only told ONE person. But the
one person that he confided in, was a member of a radical, underground environmentalist group.
There were quite a number of such groups in America, mostly based in California and Oregon.
Their credo was a variation of: the end always justifies the means. One of these militant
environmental groups, the Weathermen, had recently created a media frenzy with pipe bombs,
highly-publicized arrests, government statements and high-profile trials.
Between the time of Mick’s luncheon and his death, a young man in his early twenties,
moved into the vacant house that was for rent, right next door to Christian. He was outgoing and
likeable. Apparently, he had just inherited quite a nice sum of money from an uncle that he
never knew existed in Chile. He did some occasional work for Christian, on the boat, before it
blew up, and now, just around the house. Not for money, of course, but to be neighborly and fill
time. There were even occasions when Christian would drop by the Wagners with “Nick” in
tow. Nick kept renewing his lease, and had lived next to Christian for almost four years now. A
few times over the years, Janet had even invited Nick to dinner, along with Christian.
www.TollyBurkan.com
20
Chapter Six: The White Dragon
Amy was “Barbie” on the outside, but inside, she was unpredictable. She had a wicked
sense of humor; and a penchant for adventure that prompted her to take risks and attempt follies
that no sane girl would ever consider. Her preppie facade cloaked “Wonder Woman,” which
was why she was suddenly so interested in Batman. Amy had long, straight, jet-black hair,
brown eyes and full lips. If she had had a dark complexion, she might have been mistaken for a
Latino or Native American; but her family hailed from France. Her skin was fair, even white,
which made her hair seem blacker, her dark eyes deeper, and her lips redder. The last time she
checked, she was 5’6” tall.
Amy was a few months older than Jay, had in fact turned 18 just the month before, and
celebrated by going skydiving at the Parachute Center in Lodi. On her sixteenth birthday, she
went firewalking. She’d already made plans to go SCUBA diving the following summer, and
hang-gliding as well. When her brother Travis once asked her why she was such a klutz on the
snowboard, she replied, “If I’m not willing to keep boarding every time I fall or make an ass of
myself, I’ll never learn to get better.” So even after breaking her collarbone, Amy continued
boarding all through last season.
Amy called every hour. Finally, at 11, Janet suggested that everyone go to sleep. She
assured all concerned that she would phone the moment she heard anything.
Ryan planned to stay home with his mother the next day, Saturday; while Amy resolved
to form a squadron of friends at the school to organize a Missing Person Poster Campaign.
Though it was Saturday, and the school would be officially closed, she was certain that the
Principal would open the office so Amy could execute her poster campaign. She was determined
to spread Jason’s face all over the Bay Area, so that if anyone recognized him, they could call
with information. (From then on, as always happens, dozens of irrelevant calls would come
pouring in ‘round the clock.) Amy said she’d call Janet and Ryan throughout the day.
“Someone must have seen him,” she said logically.
But no one saw anything.
When Jason was abducted, everyone was simply minding their own business. It was only
a matter of seconds between the front door and the car. He was bundled to look like garbage and
the whole scene was apparently invisible. The area he was taken to in Tahoe was by-and-large
merely clusters of vacation homes. Very few saw any activity this time of year. This part of
Tahoe wasn’t convenient to the ski resorts or the casinos, so it was mostly the summer crowd
that lived here.
Jason had fallen asleep shortly after nine. While it appeared that he was simply sleeping,
in a very comfortable bed, much more was actually occurring—hidden from sight—deep
within—within the mind of Jason Wagner. An electro-chemical phenomenon was percolating
through the fold’s of Jason’s consciousness. It would be inadequate to call his experience a
dream, for it changed his life forever.
www.TollyBurkan.com
21
It started with Amy. She was familiar... a comfortable beginning to the night. Jason and
Amy were having a discussion about dreams and illusions as they walked along a trail in
Blackberry Canyon, near the university campus.
Amy was saying, “You know I went firewalking on my sixteenth birthday. Haven’t you
ever thought about THAT illusion?”
I want to do that. Will you do it again... with me?”
“I’d LOVE to,” Amy replied—and she really meant it.
Jason looked at Amy and realized for the first time how beautiful she was. He also
noticed the way she responded when he suggested that they go firewalking together. One thing
he always noticed about a girl, was the way she would take notice of him. Many girls were
attracted to him physically, but what he just saw, was that Amy was attracted to a part of him
that not many people appreciated.
“You have to trust that you won’t get burned,” Amy said.
“I trust you,” Jason responded, and bent forward and gently kissed Amy on the lips.
“Dude, don’t lead the chick on!” he imagined hearing Rin’s voice. But the moment that
he kissed Amy, he knew—he KNEW—he could trust her in a way he had never known. He
knew he could trust her with his life, if it ever came to that.
“Amy, I want to tell you about what happened in calc today, about the bats, and about
what Raven said.” He looked around, but Amy was gone.
Jason followed the creek upstream. “Amy! Amy!” he kept calling. The Bay Laurel trees
hung over the water, and as he bent beneath their boughs, the pungent fragrance of Bay Laurel
tickled his nose. Because he kept bending close to the water, the babble of the stream prevented
him from hearing Amy replying to his calls, until he was almost upon the mouth of the cave from
which her voice was emanating.
“Jason! Jay! I’m in here.”
Jason had been in Blackberry Canyon many, many times, but he never had seen this cave
before. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t have entered; but the sound of Amy’s voice compelled him
forward. He peered into the blackness and tried to adjust his eyes. Several bats flew from the
cave and Jason gave a start.
“Jay!” Amy was calling.
“I’m coming,” Jason cried and he hunched over a bit so he could enter the cave without
hitting his head. As the tunnel darkened to black, Jason dropped to his hands and knees for
stability. Crawling along, he began to consider how he was going to proceed, since sight was
www.TollyBurkan.com
22
impossible, when he lurched forward—falling suddenly and unexpectedly into a large hole. He
tumbled downward, but through air—not head over heels along a rocky slope.
He fell for a long time, unable to see, when he landed on top of what seemed to be a
horse. Because it was still dark, he was not able to discern what was happening, but ahead, he
heard Amy call, “Over here!” He saw light about a thousand yards before him, and he was
gliding toward it on the back of... on the back of a white dragon. As the dragon alighted in front
of Amy, it shrank in size until it was no bigger than a large alligator.
Jason reacted with, “Amy, what the hell is going on here?”
Amy replied, “Chill out Jay. I have to leave. My only part in this right now is to
introduce you to your teacher. When the student is ready, the teacher always appears.” With
that, Amy dissolved into thin air.
It was probably around this time that Amy was actually phoning the Wagners’ house to
see if Janet had heard anything yet. Janet told her that she hadn’t and recommended that they all
get some sleep. But of course, Janet wouldn’t sleep. Couldn’t sleep. Not a wink.
Jason turned and faced the white dragon. “Well say something,” he demanded.
“What makes you think I can talk?” the dragon replied.
“I just knew it,” Jason said rather smugly.
“How come you’re not green?”
“Because I’m white.”
“Do you breathe fire?”
“Not usually. I’m not that kind of dragon.”
“What’s your name?”
“I don’t have one.”
“What shall I call you?”
“What do you want to call me?”
Jason blurted out, “Michael! Can I call you Michael?”
“Certainly. Michael it is. Wasn’t that your father’s name?”
“Well yeah, but no one called him Michael. Everyone called him Mick.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
23
“Michael is fine; just don’t call me Mike.”
“’K.” Jason intuitively knew that Michael was a fount of knowledge and he impulsively
asked, “Do you know how my father died?”
“Yes,” Michael answered. “He drowned in San Francisco Bay almost four years ago.”
“What I mean Michael, is—was he murdered?”
“Why would you ask such a thing?” came Michael’s retort.
“Because after he died,” Jason said with some emotion, “Well, after he drowned, the FBI
and the CIA came to the house and they asked a lot of questions that didn’t really make any
sense. They took all my dad’s computers and they emptied all his file cabinets. They eventually
gave it all back, but there seemed to be this big secret.”
Michael said very gently, “Your father was not murdered Jason. His death was a terrible
accident. It was a loss not just to you and your family, it was a loss to all of Mankind. Jason,
your father was a brilliant scientist. He died much too soon. But it was, indeed, simply an
unfortunate accident.”
At about the time that Michael and Jason were conversing and getting to know each
other, a telephone was ringing inside a cave in Afghanistan.
www.TollyBurkan.com
24
Chapter Seven: The Afghan Connection
The satellite phone wouldn’t work inside the cave, but a device was arranged to create a
ringing sound when a signal was coming in. Actually, it was more of a clicking sound. The
turbaned figure took the phone and walked to the entrance of the cave. He poked his head out
and peered both to the left and to the right. When he was sure that there was no one else around,
he stepped out and switched on the telephone.
“We have the boy,” he heard to his delight. “He’s sleeping now, and we didn’t hurt him
hardly at all. He’s fine.” Without speaking a word, the turbaned man switched off the phone.
He again cast a furtive glance in all directions and played with the instrument in his hand. He
placed it to his ear and after a moment or two, he mumbled a few words into the receiver.
Many of the radical environmentalist groups in America were funded by sources they
knew nothing about. UC Berkeley, with its research facilities and nuclear labs, was rife with
spies from interests the world over.
Christian’s neighbor Nick was a covert agent working for a group called The People’s
Planet. Unlike Green Peace, they often used violent means to obtain their goals. Their goals,
however, were loosely defined, and the momentum of the group was really controlled by the
charisma of those in leadership positions, rather than any idealistic vision.
Nick’s first assignment, after he won Christian’s confidence, was to plant a bug on
Christian’s boat. It was this hidden transmitter that sent the message to People’s Planet: “In
here, Jason’s got everything that I’ve got.” The bug was not performing well that day, and most
of Mick’s conversation with Christian was lost. However, what made it through, convinced PP
that Jason was privy to his father’s secrets. Misunderstanding what Mick was telling Christian,
they spent the better part of three years trailing Jason, spying on him, planning ways they might
get the missing formula. Of course, the formula was gone—completely and irretrievably
destroyed. But neither the U.S. Government, nor People’s Planet, could accept that.
Sources in Afghanistan had already uncovered evidence that the U.S. was contemplating
strategies for seizing Iraq’s oil fields. Powerful people in the Middle-East were convinced that
the United States was planning to dominate the world by controlling all the planet’s energy
resources. They had learned that the CIA was preparing to keep Dr. Wagner’s discovery of cold
fusion from ever seeing the light of day. The U.S. had no intention of allowing cheap energy to
flood the world.
In the middle of the night, while Jason was dreaming of dragons, and Janet was tossing
sleeplessly in her bed, a phone call woke a heavyset man in Sacramento. He grabbed the phone
without fumbling and pressed it to his ear. The static and crackling on the line immediately told
him this was the call he had been waiting for. He listened without speaking, then simply said,
“I’m on my way to Tahoe.”
Jason, meanwhile, was feeling more and more comfortable with his newly found friend,
even if it was a dragon.
www.TollyBurkan.com
25
“The bat,” Michael was saying, “is your power animal when you’re awake. I’m your
power animal while you are asleep. But I am in communication with the bats; they do my
bidding. I sent them to your calculus class to help you with your test.”
Jason seemed remarkably comfortable with this information. “Does everyone have a
power animal?” he inquired.
“No, not everyone. Power animals are only for people who can use them,” Michael
responded.
“Why now? Why am I being introduced to all this now?”
“Jason, you are in serious trouble right now,” Michael began. “However, invisible forces
are here to help and protect you. There’s much you and your family never knew about your
father’s work at the university. He started out as a young professor, but his passion was research.
He did his job well enough in the classroom—but he was really only ‘average’ in this area—on
his own time, however, he was a research scientist with few equals. Your father, Jason, was the
first man to successfully figure out the secret of cold fusion. He was a true hero. He wanted to
provide the world with clean and affordable energy. Unfortunately, his secret died with him, and
all his research was destroyed and now lies scattered on the seabed.”
“Wow, I had no idea,” Jason said while shaking his head.
“Mick was doing research when he died. He wasn’t fishing. I’m going to help you prove
that so your mother can get the insurance money she is rightfully entitled to. But first, we have
more serious concerns. Your government was never convinced that Mick’s experiments were all
lost. To this day they are still investigating ways to uncover your father’s secret. But that
doesn’t involve you or your family, so you have nothing to fear from Uncle Sam. But,” here
Michael paused for dramatic effect, “there’s this fellow in Afghanistan who we really do need to
watch. He thinks that Mick gave you the missing formula, and he will stop at nothing to get it.”
Now the events of the previous day were starting to make sense. “That’s why I was
kidnapped?” Jason said, more than asked. “I’ll just tell these thugs that I don’t know anything.”
“It isn’t that easy. First of all, these ‘thugs’ are not that important. They’re just... thugs.
The people who count won’t believe anything you say. Unless you provide them with the
formula, they will just keep bearing down on you. They’ll torture you, and kill you, before
they’ll be convinced that Mick’s secret has truly been lost.”
Now, for the first time, Jason became genuinely scared. Sensing the wave of fear that
had just gripped the young teenager, Michael quickly interjected, “Relax Dude, that’s why I’m
here.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
26
Jason laughed at Michael’s choice of words. “Dude,” he continued, “Lest you think that
all dragons speak English, you should know that we simply speak the language that our students
will understand.”
“Are all dragons teachers?” Jason asked.
“No, only white dragons,” Michael said, perhaps with a touch of pride.
Jason was particularly struck by how similar Michael seemed to many of his other friends
at school.
“So you wonder why I’m similar to your friends at school, eh?” Michael said flatly. “It’s
because you are creating me, Einstein. I’m inside of you—in your head. Don’t forget that this is
a dream... Dude. Dragons don’t exist—REALLY!—get sober, why don’tcha?”
“Michael! What about all the things you told me about my father. Was that all true?”
“Did it feel true when I said it?” Michael asked.
“Yes.”
“Well Jay, I am you, or maybe I should say you are me? Anyway, your intuition speaks
through me. I am only telling you things that you already know. You just don’t know that you
know. Like with Amy, you love her, but you don’t know that you love her.”
“Michael, how do I know what you’re telling me is true? How do I know this is a dream?
How do I know this isn’t real?”
“Come on, Jay. Get real! Hell-l-l-o-o-o—I’m a white dragon. Of course this is a dream
Sherlock. Everything here is YOU! All the people in the dream are you. If you see a tree,
Dude, it’s because you made it—you created it—you put it there. It’s your dream. It’s sort of
like the real world. The only way God can make a tree there, is by becoming the tree... since
God is all that is.”
“Are you telling me that in this dream-world I am like God?”
Michael laughed, “Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Michael, if God can only make a tree by becoming the tree, how did God make me?
Did God actually BECOME me?”
“Let’s save that for another time Jason, right now we have to deal with the fact that you
are a prisoner in the hands of madmen. Let me warn you right now, don’t even think of using
your Martial Arts skills—these guys will kill you before you can get your kick half-way between
the floor and your target. You have no idea what they’re hiding.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
27
In Sacramento, The Fatman dressed hastily, grabbed his little black case from under the
bed, and was in his car in record time—for him, that is. His girth had always slowed him down.
The drive from Sacramento to the Tahoe location would take him, maybe three hours at this time
of night. He hadn’t really managed much sleep, so he thought it best to stop for coffee. The
forecast had been for clear skies, but there was an obvious weather front approaching, and if it
began snowing, he wanted to be sharp and alert. He had a four-wheel-drive SUV, but he wasn’t
carrying chains.
When The Fatman pulled into an all-night coffeeshop, it was almost two in the morning.
It seemed unusually crowded, even though it was a weekend. “What’s with the crowd,” he asked
a waitress.
“There’s a big storm coming over Donner Summit. Route 80 is closed. Even with
chains, they won’t let you past the Auburn exit.”
This was certainly unexpected. The Fatman straddled a stool by the counter and ordered
coffee. The radio was playing the weather report. “A short, but powerful storm will cause
whiteout conditions over the Sierra Nevada as it blows in from the north. It was originally
thought that the storm, which had stalled in Oregon, wasn’t due until Monday.” That’s all The
Fatman needed to hear! He felt his blood pressure rise, and he struggled to keep his Type A
temper in check.
“Are you all right?” his waitress inquired, concerned when she saw him turn red and
apparently choke on his coffee.
“I’m fine,” he snorted. Leaving a five-dollar bill on the counter, he quickly turned and
exited. He smirked as he got into his car, a dark, forest-green Toyota 4Runner. The delay
wasn’t that disastrous. He was wrong to get unduly upset; after all, he had to watch his blood
pressure. Even with the meds, it was still precariously high. A delay of a few days wouldn’t
really matter... he’d already waited over three years for this phase of the plan to begin. “Long
overdue!” in his opinion. But he knew better than to argue with his superior. Though he
respected the man above him, he also feared him.
His superior was more than just a faceless cog in a chain of command. This MiddleEastern zealot was actually a friend of the family. Wealthy, and well-connected, he did The
Fatman a favor many years ago... a BIG favor. The Fatman was amazed, and beholden, that this
distant family friend had extended so much on his behalf. When he asked his benefactor if there
was any way to repay the favor, he was amazed by the answer: it was simply “Yes.”
From that day onward, The Fatman put himself in the service of Evil. He justified it with
all kinds of excuses—and elaborate fabrications that he made up for himself—and now firmly
believed as if they were the truth; but the bottom line was this: he enjoyed his work. Beyond
that, nothing good can be said of the man.
The Fatman drove himself home. At daybreak he’d call Tahoe and inform them of the
change in plan. Right now, however, he was relishing the thought of getting more sleep, as he
www.TollyBurkan.com
28
eased the large vehicle into the garage. He left the black case in the SUV, locking the car’s
doors, even though it was in the garage, which was also securely locked.
In Berkeley, Janet’s phone rang. “It’s me, Amy, I’m sorry to wake you.”
“You didn’t wake me, I haven’t been able to sleep.”
“Well I’ve already arranged for a bunch of friends to meet at the school tomorrow to get
the poster campaign started. I was on the phone a lot. I woke people up, but when I told them
what happened, everyone was super nice.” Amy paused for breath. She hesitated, then
tentatively began, “Mrs. Wagner, I had just fallen asleep. I don’t think I could have been
sleeping more than an hour, when I heard Jason calling me. I sat up in bed, I thought it was a
dream, but even after I sat up, I heard him call. I went to the window; I didn’t see anything, so I
called you.”
“Amy dear,” Janet said consolingly, “I think you just thought you heard him after you sat
up. Maybe you were still dreaming when you sat up?”
“I guess you’re right,” Amy reluctantly conceded. Without warning, she began to sob.
Janet had a little more control, but she herself was weeping nonetheless. As soon as she
was able to manage her voice, she tried saying a few words of reassurance to Amy. The two
women commiserated for about another 90 seconds, then each hung up her phone.
www.TollyBurkan.com
29
Chapter Eight: The Blizzard
Michael was first to sense the change in the weather. “I’ll be right back,” he said. “I’m
going to fly over the crest of the Sierra. I want to check the weather.”
“It’s supposed to be clear,” Jason said authoritatively.
“Yeah, well there’s a storm that’s coming in from Oregon ahead of schedule. It wasn’t
predicted to move south of Shasta for a couple of days, but here it comes. Weather! Won’t it be
nice when we can control it, instead of trying to predict it?”
The young scientist was tempted to say that we were already controlling the weather, and
was about to lecture Michael on global warming, the Greenhouse Effect, the Ozone Layer—
when he suddenly came to his senses. “Can’t I come with you?” Jason seemed to plead.
“Oh, of course, what was I thinking?” Michael said as he shrank himself, slithered
between Jason’s legs, then enlarged himself to the size of a small whale. “Hang on!” Michael’s
humongous white wings unfurled to their full length and the two of them ascended. “Try not to
look like you’re having too much fun. There’s a camera trained on you even while you sleep.”
“A camera!” Jason exclaimed. “I didn’t see a camera.”
“There’s a lot you don’t see Jay. For a scientist, you miss a lot. You pay attention, but
only selectively. There’s six cameras.”
“Six? None in the bathroom—I hope?”
He wasn’t too pleased when he saw Michael nod with a wink. Then he noticed that he
was cold, very, VERY cold. “Michael, I’m freezing. What gives?” Before Michael could reply,
Jason felt pelting hail-stones stinging his body. “Why aren’t they just going through me
Michael? I thought this was a dream.”
“When it rains in a dream, the trees in the dream get wet. When it hails in a dream, you
are going to feel it. It’s ‘relativity’ Jason. I don’t have to tell you about that. You’ve read
enough of your dad’s library to have that down to basics.” Michael laughed and said, “Just a few
more moments. Ah, that’s what I wanted to see.”
Jason saw massive clouds upon massive clouds. He shielded his eyes with one hand and
held tight to Michael’s nape with the other hand. Still, sleet and wind-driven hail made it
difficult to peer out from between his fingers.
“We’ve bought ourselves an extra day,” Michael said as he made a U-turn and began to
descend.
“Couldn’t you have figured that out without flying up here?” Jason chided. “You’ve got
powers, why didn’t you use them?”
www.TollyBurkan.com
30
“You also have powers you don’t use, my friend. Sometimes you overeat to the point of
discomfort. You have the power to stop eating, but you choose one experience over the other.
It’s just choices, Jason. I chose to fly instead of not flying.” Michael finished by saying, “It’s
really as simple as that.”
Jason recalled the piece of spam that contained the line: “Create the world you dream
with every choice you make.”
Suddenly his attention was captured by the jarring thud, as Michael landed.
“Michael, it looks like we would have been snowed-in if we had gone boarding this
weekend. It would have been too much weather for boarding, and I would have missed school
Monday, maybe even Tuesday. I hate missing school.”
As the wind began to howl through the tall trees surrounding his prison, Jason tossed in
his sleep. A rather poorly concealed camera sent this information to watchful eyes; and, it was
being recorded, as well.
Michael said, “I have a plan.”
“Well I hope your plan includes me smashing out the eyes of those cameras.”
“Come on Jason, get real. If you do that, you know the consequences. You’ll get
yourself tied up, and for no reason whatsoever; because they’ll still train cameras on you. Do
like the man said and behave yourself.” Michael tried appealing to the scientist in Jason, “It’s
the law of cause and effect—you know, action and reaction man—every action on your part
brings about a re-action. Just be cool.”
“’K. It’s just that I wanted to fill that Jacuzzi tub, and enjoy myself in the morning.”
“Do it. It’s no big deal. Just don’t give them footage they can use in a porn film.”
Jason laughed out loud: on camera, of course.
“So what’s your plan, Michael,” said Jason, as he made himself comfortable by reclining
on a stack of goose-down pillows, that materialized somehow, while they were aloft. Jason
looked at Michael expectantly. The white dragon stood there wrapped in thought. Jason
respected the silence and gave the dragon’s body a more careful inspection. Michael was right,
Jay really wasn’t a master at paying attention. For example, he just realized that Michael had no
genitals. His surprise was quickly abated by the thought, “Oh well, he’s a dragon. He may not
even have internal organs. Right! He’s not real.” That aside, Jason continued to survey the
dragon’s body.
His entire body was covered with pearl-like, glistening scales. But when Jason rode on
his neck, the scales actually felt silky, like feathers. Michael’s features always appeared
www.TollyBurkan.com
31
different. He seemed to be constantly changing, and yet, at the same time, changeless, as well.
In one moment, Jason was sure he was dealing with a young dragon; in the next, he was certain
that Michael was exceptionally old: ancient!
“Now for the plan,” Michael finally stated. “I can’t say it out loud, just in case you start
repeating my words by speaking in your sleep. I’ll have to give it to you by direct transmission.”
Jason was about to ask Michael to explain what he meant, when Michael said, “Grab
this!”—and instantly—the entire plan appeared inside his own head. “My God!” he exclaimed.
“That’s brilliant.”
“No it’s not Jay, but it will buy you some time.”
Ordinarily, The Fatman would be able to watch Jason through any of the cameras, right
there on his PC in Sacramento. However, when he found that he was unable to sleep and he tried
to switch on the images, nothing happened. The Fatman fussed with his desktop equipment for a
few minutes, and when that failed to bring any success, he tried phoning the Tahoe house, even
though it was still hours before sunrise. “Damn,” he grunted when a pre-recorded tape informed
him that lines were down because of the storm.
In his sleep, Jason heard the TV dish twisting in the wind. “Hear that Michael? I hope
I’m still able to watch TV. I want to know if people are looking for me. I want to find out if
these thugs left any clues.”
The night wore on, with winds increasing, and swirling snow drifting into mounds around
the house and along the bushes and brush. The dish never did get wrenched from the roof, but it
was buried in deep snow so that no reception could be received from the satellites overhead.
Someone slid a tray through the flap in Jay’s door and, though the sound wasn’t loud,
Jason woke up. He looked at his watch. Seven o’clock. He realized that he had fallen asleep
with all the lights on. Then he realized: there was no way to turn them off.
His breakfast tray consisted of hot oatmeal, with milk, raisins, butter, and maple syrup on
the side. There was also a tall glass of orange juice, a bran muffin, and a plate with bacon and
sausages piled high. A handwritten note said: Good Morning.
Jason began devouring his breakfast while playing with the buttons on the remote control.
The TV was useless! Damn the blizzard anyhow.
“Damn the blizzard anyhow,” one of the men in the other room said to his cohort. “The
phones are out, the roads are closed—Damn! I was planning to ship out of here today.”
“There’s nothing that can be done. The storm will pass. We got heat, we got food, we
have no problems.” He thought a second or two, then added, “Even if the power goes out—we
got no problems.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
32
Nick was in another room reviewing the tapes shot overnight while everyone slept—or
tried to sleep. He first rewound the tapes, and then fast-forwarded the images, just to make sure
nothing suspicious had occurred during the night.
“Hey Nikita, what’s the kid doing now?” called one of the men.
“He’s filling the tub,” came the reply from the next room.
The bigger of the two men laughed softly. “I’m sure he likes watching that.”
“What do you mean?” asked the other.
“Well haven’t you noticed how much attention Nikkie puts into preparing the kid’s
food?”
“Yeah. What of it?”
“He’s gay, man!”
“No shit? How do you know that?”
“The Fatman told me.”
“So—how would The Fatman know—something like that?”
“Cummon genius, The Fatman knows everything. He probably knows every restaurant
you’ve eaten at for the past year—and if he don’t know, believe me, he can find out.”
Jason eased himself into the tub and turned on the Jacuzzi. He felt pretty good this
morning. The food was excellent, the goose-egg on his head was considerably reduced, though
when he touched it, he still said “ouch,” and the night had been—wonder-FULL! As prisons go,
Jason had no problem with this one... except, maybe, the cameras. He smiled, remembering
Michael’s comment about not creating footage for porn films, and he lay back into the tub, tried
to relax, closed his eyes, and imagined he saw tiny bats fluttering above him. “There’s no reason
why I can’t just lie here for hours,” he thought. He knew that thanks to the storm, whatever
plans the thugs had made concerning their prisoner—everything was now on hold. He might as
well just listen to the wind and let his skin get pruney.
www.TollyBurkan.com
33
Chapter Nine: Travis
Amy and Travis were both up before the sun on Saturday morning. It was agreed that
Amy would organize printing the posters, and interacting with telephone trees, and media.
Travis would be in charge of organizing the distribution of the posters. He was smitten by the
novelty of spending so much time and attention on someone else’s needs, besides his own.
Travis tended to examine himself too much—in an unhealthy way. It was his dark side, the one
no one ever saw... not ever!
On the surface, Travis was “Mister Feelin’ Good.” He was always smiling, always
making jokes, and had a naturally impish look about him. With reddish hair and freckles, he
could easily be a passable leprechaun at any costume party. But behind the effervescent facade,
Travis was a troubled youth. He spoke to no one of his thoughts and concerns, but ruminated
alone at night while his family slept. He had made the decision to kill himself, only days before
Jason vanished. He was going to make it look like an accident—by slamming himself into a
support tower of the ski lift as he bombed down the most killer slope at Heavenly. This was
supposed to be the day of his demise, but instead, he was distracted by, and preoccupied with,
the mystery of Jason’s disappearance.
Travis phoned Ryan, “Hey Dude, here’s what’s happenin’.” He filled his friend in on
what he and Amy were up to. Ryan was sticking by his mom, so they decided to stay in touch by
cell phone throughout the day. Travis and Ryan were tight, but even so, Ryan was clueless about
Trav’s darker side.
At the high school, Amy took charge. She introduced her brother Travis to her friends.
Travis and Amy were even closer in age than Ryan and Jason. Travis was 17, and older than
Ryan by several months. In fact, his circle of friends overlapped both the older crowd and the
younger. While Amy focused on supervising the activities in the office, Travis went out to the
parking lot with a cadre of teens who had volunteered their cars.
Travis consulted a map, and divided the Bay Area into sections. He had so many
volunteers, he was able to assign three kids to each car, in addition to the driver. The plan was
for the driver to choose a location, stop, discharge his crew, then drive a block, park, and wait for
the crew to catch up. Meanwhile, the crew would scatter, affix posters to all the power poles,
and obtain permission to also display it in store windows. Travis made sure there was at least
one cell phone in every vehicle.
Travis and Amy were both so well organized, you might suspect that they did this kind of
thing all the time. Which of course they did not. Travis decided to stay close to the school, and
use it as a base from which he could coordinate things and handle problems if they arose.
Everyone seemed to treat him with tremendous courtesy and respect. He enjoyed the constant
validation he received, and, at one point, even marveled to himself that he was handling his job
so professionally.
Mid-way through the morning, Travis’s cell chirped. It was Ryan. “Heya Ryan, things
are really coming together on this end.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
34
“The police were here this morning,” Ryan said. “They really don’t have any leads so
far. They looked through the house again, but there’s really nothing here—no clues. They just
left and will be heading over to the school to talk to some of the kids.”
“Why are they doing that? No one here would know anything.” He thought for a second,
then said, almost reluctantly, “Unless maybe they think he ran away and maybe told someone?”
“I don’t know what they’re thinking,” Ryan said. “Hey Trav, I guess you heard about
that storm hitting Tahoe?”
“Yeah!”
“Good thing we didn’t go. We would have just been snowed-in for days.” Ryan sort of
chuckled, “Jason would have been so pissed—you know how he hates to miss school.”
Travis did know. He respected Jason because Jason was both a great student, and a great
athlete. He was also just a great guy. Travis was neither good at pulling high grades, nor much
of an athlete. He was good enough on a skateboard. He was better on a snowboard. But he
never excelled at anything. Unlike his friend Ryan, he wasn’t even skilled at computer or video
games. All he really acknowledged himself for, was being a masterful cut-up. He could always
be counted on to be a clown. He had a knack for making people laugh.
Shortly after he hung up from Ryan, Travis noticed the police arrive. Somehow, it was
the sight of the police that made Travis realize just how serious this was. The cops circulated
through the group, speaking to both students and teachers, who were also volunteering their
efforts. They never spoke with Travis, which was fine with him, since he really had nothing of
value that he could tell them.
Travis walked off by himself. He had been so busy up until that point, he never actually
had gotten in touch with his own feelings. He didn’t know Jason that well. Sure they inevitably
interacted on a regular basis, but he didn’t know the inner Jason. The outer Jason was a great
guy, but Travis knew that the inner and outer person could be as different as night and day. He
considered his own situation: Jekyll and Hyde. No one who knew him suspected that Travis was
perpetually sullen when alone. Not even his parents or sister knew about his depression. He was
so ashamed of it, since there seemed to be no logical cause, that he imagined himself alone in the
world. And, of course, in one sense, he was.
On an impulse, Travis phoned Ryan. He just needed to talk. But when he heard Ryan’s
voice at the other end of the line, words failed him and he began to sob without provocation.
“Trav—that you?” Ryan knew it was Travis because his cell phone had caller ID. “Trav, what’s
going on?”
Travis had never cried in front of anyone since he was a small boy. At once, surprised
and ashamed of himself, he was suddenly in unfamiliar territory. All he could manage to say
was, “Ryan, I just feel real scared. I’m afraid something awful has happened to Jay.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
35
Ryan, who himself was not a crier, also began to sob; his emotions being triggered by his
friend’s sudden openness and vulnerability. Ryan never spoke, but Janet was aware of her son
crying with his friend on the phone in the adjoining room. She had been maintaining a stoic face
for the sake of her youngest son, but listening to the emotions flowing in the other room caused
her to weep as well. If Jason had been hurt or killed in a car wreck, she felt she would have been
better able to deal with the circumstances. But the uncertainty—the mystery—of the situation,
was more than she could bear. Ryan, suddenly aware of his mother crying in the next room, said
to Travis, “I gotta go,” and he hung up.
Walking into the room with his mother, Ryan approached her, hesitated, then embraced
her, and the two of them sobbed together in each other’s arms. The catharsis was needed.
Several minutes passed, and then, mother and son sat on the living room couch together candidly
speaking about their feelings.
“You know Mom,” Ryan said, “right after Dad died, you were driving Jay and me
someplace and there was all this traffic. Jay said to me, ‘I’d like to invent a magic gun that could
vaporize the slow moving cars in front of us.’ You know how Jay is always inventing stuff in his
head—well anyway, I said to him, ‘Dude, if you’re going to invent a magic gun, why not just
have it put the slow cars behind us? That way you don’t have to kill the drivers.’ I know it’s
going to sound funny, but I can tell that moment started a change in our relationship. As soon as
the words came out of my mouth, I saw this look on Jay’s face, and I knew he was remembering
Dad lying in a casket. From then on, Jay always treated me with respect. Before that, you
remember how he always picked on me?”
Janet was touched that her youngest son had opened himself to her like this. It was rare.
But she recalled how withdrawn she was from her own parents when she was a teen; and she
understood that this stage of human development involves finding ourselves—separate and apart
from our parents. She patted Ryan on his leg and simply nodded.
After they talked about Jay for a while, Janet attempted to change the mood. It was
starting to remind her of how people reminisced about Mick during his wake... and Jason was
NOT dead! “Let’s go out for ice cream,” she said rather abruptly.
“Right now? What about the phone?”
“Ryan, you’re too skinny. I’m your mother and I want to fatten you up. The phone
machine can handle it for 30 minutes.”
So, they left.
www.TollyBurkan.com
36
Chapter Ten: The Fatman
The Fatman was evil. Everyone knew that. He had always operated well-below the radar
of the law; so, according to any official records, he did not exist. For such a corpulent man, he
was remarkably invisible. But among those who sought his services, he was famous. No one
knew his name, or if they did, they never spoke it. He was simply known as The Fatman. To his
face, everyone called him “Sir.”
The Fatman was fifty years old. He was bald, his face scarred from teenage acne, and no
matter how much deodorant he employed, he always smelled bad. The most anyone knew about
him was that he used to be a surgeon, but retired after losing a malpractice suit. Now, he still
used his medical expertise, but in other, more sinister, ways. Armed with an arsenal of tools and
medications he obtains through the black market, the fat spider circled the world providing his
services, for those who could afford him.
While Jason luxuriated in the Jacuzzi, Nick quietly watched him; and the others
entertained themselves telling stories about The Fatman. Of course they really had few first hand
stories they could tell, since neither of them had spent more than a few moments in his presence.
The stories were second-hand, some maybe third- or fourth-hand. The Fatman’s reputation had
reached global proportions during the past ten years of his “retirement.” The stories about him
were abundant and varied, but strictly among those select few who inhabited certain inner
circles. Nick and the thugs had all been involved in other projects that employed The Fatman,
though this was the first assignment where the three of them worked together at the same time.
“Weren’t you a part of that operation in Colorado last year?” the one said to the other,
trying to make it sound like a question.
“How’d you hear about that?” his cohort asked with genuine astonishment.
“Come on, don’tcha realize that’s what keeps us all ‘honest.’ We all know too much
about something someone else was involved in—so we sort of protect each other like fraternity
brothers.”
“Yeah, I guess we are in a fraternity—one that joins all the little fraternities. That’s how
The Fatman stays in business—referrals.”
They both seemed to find that comment funny, and laughed out loud—long enough for
Nick to wonder what the joke was.
“What you guys laughing about?” Nick inquired as he entered the room.
“We wuz just telling stories about The Fatman,” said the more rough-hewn of the two.
“I could tell you a few as well,” Nick said, with a sly smirk creeping across his lips.
They took the bait and pulled up a third chair, gesturing for him to sit down and share his tales.
www.TollyBurkan.com
37
Soon, the regales of laughter and howling caught Jason’s attention. He got out of the tub
and dried himself off. He slipped into the robe and bent over the vent to see if he could discern
what was being said in the other room. The thugs seemed to be louder than usual at this
moment, so he was hopeful that he might even comprehend some of the dialogue. But though he
strained to hear, for almost 20 minutes, the only thing intelligible were the obvious guffaws.
The house was still being buffeted with wind-driven snow and occasional hail. The
racket generated by the storm pummeling the creaking walls, coupled with the whistling of wind
through the trees, made Jason’s task rather impossible. One thing he did learn though, by
listening through the vent, was that the telephone and Internet service were down. He had earlier
heard a radio blaring somewhere in the house, so he knew they at least had access to weather
information. “No phone, no Internet, no TV,” Jason was thinking. “They must be following the
news on the radio. Maybe I’ll hear whether or not people are looking for me.”
Jason continued to listen at the vent. He thought he kept hearing the words fat man.
Finally, realizing the futility of this strategy, Jason got off his hands and knees, did a few Tae
Kwon Do moves to shake-off the stiffness his body suffered from crouching over the vent, and
got dressed.
In the other room, at one point, someone said, “Well I’m sure The Fatman is none-toohappy about this storm delaying his arrival.” Jason, of course, did not hear this. But the words
drained all the blood from Nick’s face.
“The Fatman’s coming here?” he managed to say, though the words almost stuck in his
throat. Up until this moment, everything was discussed in very generic terms. This was Phase
One, then there was Phase Two. However, for some reason, Nick had never known that “Phase
Two” meant turning Jason over to The Fatman. He instantly comprehended the scenario that
was sure to follow and he had to keep himself from shaking. After all, he was fond of Jason.
“What’s with you?” one of the thugs said, noticing that Nick suddenly looked rather
strange.
“I think I have diarrhea,” Nick lied, and dashed from the room.
“Hey Nikkie, don’t stink the place up—light a match when you’re done,” someone called
after him.
Nick closed the bathroom door and sat down on the toilet to think. “The Fatman—
coming here! I had no idea! I’d never have gotten Jay into this if I knew The Fatman was going
to be involved.” He was perspiring. “Don’t panic Nick,” he said to himself. Suddenly,
understanding how hopeless the situation was, he began to cry—silently, biting his lip, so the
others couldn’t hear.
The Fatman was in Sacramento preparing his own breakfast. Outside, rain was falling on
the periphery of the mountain storm. Inside, The Fatman cracked four eggs into a bowl and
stirred in shredded cheese—a full cup. He tossed three huge sausages into a pan and put half a
www.TollyBurkan.com
38
loaf of bread on the table of the eat-in kitchen. Within ten minutes, he was sitting before his first
meal of the day, slathering softened butter on the bread, and squirting catsup on the sausages and
eggs. When he finished shoveling all this into himself, he went to the cupboard, removed a berry
pie, and put some instant coffee into a cup of water, which he placed in the microwave.
Going to the refrigerator, The Fatman removed a can of whipped cream. The microwave
went “ding,” he removed his coffee, and sat down to finish his breakfast. He put a layer of
whipped cream over the pie, and ate it with a fork, right out of the original pan. He never sliced
it. He drank his coffee black, after adding three heaping tablespoons of sugar, using it to wash
his pallet clean after every third or fourth bite of pie. The cup was drained and pan emptied, but
he didn’t seem to feel complete, until audible gas emerged from both ends of his rotund and
disgusting body.
www.TollyBurkan.com
39
Chapter Eleven: Bread Pudding
Saturday was filled with a lot of activity, but virtually no productivity.
Jason whiled away the hours with catnaps and daydreams.
Nick tried desperately to distract himself, fiddling with knobs and levers on the audiovideo console that connected to the cameras and monitors, preparing lunch and dinner for Jason,
and all the while, trying to concoct some plan that might spare Jason’s life—though he knew, if
The Fatman didn’t actually kill Jay, his life might not really be worth saving... once The Fatman
was finished.
The two thugs played an endless game of cards, telling dirty jokes, and chain-smoking
cigarettes without stopping.
The Fatman spent the day lying in bed watching television.
The day in Berkeley seemed interminable to Jason’s friends and family.
At dinner—which was just several pizzas brought by Christian—Janet, Ryan, Amy,
Travis and Christian sat in a circle at Mrs. Wagner’s dining room table. “Where’s Nick these
days?” Janet asked Christian absent-mindedly.
“Beats me,” Christian replied. “I called him last night to ask him to help out with the
search, but I got a recorded message that simply said he would be out of town for a few days.”
There was little to talk about. The day had been a fruitless exercise in dealing with one
false lead after another. The fact that no one had phoned demanding a ransom, was another
reason to be somber. The uncertainty of the situation was fraying everyone’s nerves to the point
of excruciating pain. When the phone rang, everyone froze.
After several rings, it was Christian who left the table and picked-up the receiver.
“Hello.” He listened briefly, said, “thank you,” and hung up. “Jason’s story is on the news,” he
informed them as he snapped on the TV in the living room, which could be seen through the
large, arched opening between the two rooms.
Jason’s picture filled the screen, as a news anchor’s voice pleaded, “If you have seen this
boy, or have any information on his whereabouts, please phone the toll-free number on your
screen.” This was followed by some stock footage of the gymnastics team performing at a
football game, with several close-ups of Jason’s face. Then there was an interview with Amy at
the high school, as she was organizing the poster campaign that morning. She thought she had
embarrassed herself when she started to cry, and repeated the plea: “If anyone has seen Jason,
please, please, please call the police.” The spot ended with Jason’s face again filling the screen.
Janet, who had not really been eating, but only playing with her slice of pizza, was the
first to speak. “I guess there’s nothing else we can do now but wait.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
40
“That’s the hardest part,” said Ryan.
“I’ve got to save that boy,” was all Nick could think. “But how? How? How?” Then
the idea occurred to him: “I’ll put the key to the deadbolt in some food.” But he doubted
whether Jason’s arm would be long enough to reach through the hinged door-flap and manage to
fit the key in the lock? “Yes, his arm IS long enough,” Nick affirmed to himself, but without
conviction. “So even if he escapes,” a little voice inside his head whispered, “he’ll freeze to
death in the storm.” He considered this, and figured: “Anything is better than giving him to The
Fatman.”
As Nick puttered around the kitchen, one of his cabin-mates asked, “What are you
doing?”
“I’m making us some dessert.”
Nick had been doing all the cooking, and they enjoyed it—of that, there was no doubt.
Therefore, he wasn’t surprised—had even expected—their enthusiastic encouragement.
“Great Nikkie boy!” came the first voice.
“Smells fantastic Nikita. What is it?” came the second.
“Bread pudding,” he called.
Nick wrote “3 A.M.” on a tiny piece of a paper napkin, wrapped it around a key, then
securely sealed the key in a small square of aluminum foil. He then pushed this into one of the
servings of bread pudding. He prayed, “Dear God, may Jason understand that this note means to
leave at three—when everyone will surely be asleep.” He knew that he himself would never
sleep—and he knew that he dared not stir from bed to assist the boy. Even so, a part of him
already knew that he had just signed away his own life.
He felt like a dead man walking as he served the dessert. He pushed one serving through
the flap, the action calling no particular attention to itself, since this had been the routine all
through the day... Nick prepared the food, and always slid one meal through the door-flap. He
sat down and pretended to be enjoying his own dessert as the other two consumed theirs with
gusto and congratulatory remarks of praise. “You really know how to make good food Nick,
with hardly any ingredients,” said one. The other said, “We’re lucky you were assigned to
Phase One with us Nikkie.” Nikita nodded and smiled.
When Jason saw the bread pudding slide through the door, he thought it looked like
something from a cat’s litter box, and the thought discouraged him from sampling even a small
taste. He wrinkled his nose as he leaned over the dish to inspect dessert. Deciding it was not
anything he wanted to try, he simply let it lie on the floor where it lay.
www.TollyBurkan.com
41
“So far,” Jason thought, “they’ve treated me very well.” He let this thought lull him into
a state of relaxation. He didn’t give the future much thought, fortunately, for if he had a clue of
what was in store for him, he would not have so easily fallen asleep.
The Fatman was watching television. The news had just concluded with a photo of
Jason, and now the weatherman was saying, “The winter storm warning will be canceled in a few
hours. This was a doosey of a storm. It knocked out power and phones all over the Tahoe Basin,
but it’s leaving a lot sooner than expected. Temperatures will be very low tonight folks, so even
if they get the roads cleared, be careful for black ice when driving around the Sierra tomorrow.
For those of you with chains, tomorrow might be some of the best powder this season for skiers.”
The anchorman droned on, but The Fatman was already out of bed, phone in hand. He clicked
the TV off with a remote, and made one telephone call. His conversation was short. “Very
nice,” he mused to himself as he hung up the phone.
Michael greeted Jason with a casual, “Hi, how was your day?”
“Boring actually,” Jason shrugged.
“Funny, but you seem to look a lot older than the last time I saw you,” Michael said,
handing him a mirror.
It was true. Jason studied his reflection in the glass. He looked like he was, maybe 25 or
so. He had a mustache, not much of one, but it was respectable. His eyebrows were fuller, and
there were small lines in the corners of his eyes. He was definitely older. His cheeks were more
angular and no longer had the rosy glow of youth.
He wanted to ask Michael about this—and also about the large, black shape that was
always lingering just out of sight—he had seen it the night before as well, but was so overstimulated at the time, that he hadn’t had a chance to inquire about it. As Jason was composing
his question inside his head—his mind was suddenly stopped by a direct transmission from
Michael.
“Give it up Dude, there are questions the mind cannot answer. Don’t try to figure out the
Universe, or even your dreams. Most every star you see in the night sky is really a galaxy. The
average galaxy contains between 100 billion and 500 billion stars. There are billions of galaxies
Jason. Your mind cannot even grasp the magnitude of what I just said, let alone trying to
contemplate the Infinite... of which, your dreams are a part. There’s a time and place for using
your mind Jay; but remember, your mind cannot count the number of numbers... meaning that it
has its limits. You cannot measure something infinite with a finite tool. Don’t try to understand
what’s going on here in your dream. Get out of your head, and you’ll get the answers to
questions you’d never even think of asking.”
Jay just stood there feeling stupid, and blinked. Then Michael said out loud, “I know, I
know. You have such a good mind; it’s hard for you to have me belittle it. I understand, Jay.
You do indeed have a good mind—you have your father’s brain, eh?” Michael shrank down to
Jason’s size, got up on his hind legs, and placed one wing around Jason’s shoulders. There is
www.TollyBurkan.com
42
plenty for your mind to do Jason, believe me—I see the future. But you didn’t need your mind
to ace that calc test, did you? We got you through that, didn’t we—just fine!”
“We?” Jason said quizzically.
“The invisible forces I mentioned to you yesterday, remember? ‘We,’ refers to me, the
bats, and any other forces that can be rallied.”
As the night wore on, Michael taught Jason about the nature of reality. The wind stopped
blowing shortly after midnight; and by one o’clock, the billions of galaxies. disguised as stars,
appeared in the wake of the abating clouds. If anyone had been watching the monitors, the
cameras revealed a young man who slept oh so much more peacefully after the wind stopped.
But the monitors were unwatched. All four inhabitants of the large cabin lay horizontally in their
beds. Three of them slept.
Nick lay wide awake with his head racing. “What could I possibly have been thinking?”
he distressed to himself. “When The Fatman looks at the tapes, he’s going to see the key and
know I put it in the pudding.” Nick was almost trembling, which was completely out of
character for him. Though he was gay, he was the epitome of masculinity, and generally solid as
a rock. His father was Russian, his mother Greek, and he had the exquisite, quintessential good
looks of a movie-star. His hair was black, his eyes dark, dark brown, almost black themselves,
and his slight build cut the form of a bull-fighter’s physique,—slim, but athletic—and not at all
feminine. Because he was short and petite, people often mistook him for a teenager instead of
his actual age, which was now 21.
“Maybe, after Jason leaves, I can erase the tape,” Nick thought in desperation. He
wanted to creep into the adjoining room and check the console, but he dared not stir for fear that
he’d be up and about the very instant that Jason was making his getaway—and if he was seen, he
would be held responsible. “There’s no way out,” he began trembling again. “I’m going to get
caught.”
Nick just laid in his bed, listening to the snoring from the other bedrooms, and trying not
to lose control of his shattered emotions. His watch glowed in the dark, and as 3 A.M.
approached, he strained to hear whether Jason was making his escape.
At 3 A.M., however, Jason was sound asleep—well, not sound asleep, just asleep. He
had forgotten to empty his bladder before retiring, and so, even when riding on Michael’s neck,
he was always reminding Michael to “take it easy, ‘cause I have to pee.” Finally, Michael said,
“Go pee already!”
Jason opened his eyes and looked at his watch. He saw that it was five minutes past 3
A.M., and then he quickly closed his eyes, so as to give himself a moment to adjust to the lights.
Once he was wide awake, he squinted to filter the light, and headed for the bathroom. He
flushed the toilet when he was finished relieving himself, and walked to the edge of the bed and
sat down.
www.TollyBurkan.com
43
Nick heard water racing through the walls and knew that Jason had just flushed his toilet.
“My God,” thought Nick. “What’s he up to? It’s almost 3:15.”
Jason was about to again recline on the bed, when he noticed the pudding sitting on the
floor. Forgetting that he had earlier labeled it cat shit, he bent over and picked up the bowl. He
was about to get a spoon from the shelf in his room, but decided to eat the pudding with his
fingers instead. His body was a bit turned, as he was going to actually get up, but when he
changed his mind and decided to use his fingers, he left his body turned toward the shelf—so the
camera never saw what he was doing when he reached into his mouth and removed the key. He
could feel it was a key, even before he unwrapped it. Now familiar with the six cameras and
their angles, Jason managed to shield what he was doing from the spying eyes.
“3 A.M.” the note said. He cast a furtive glance at his watch. 3:20. “Well it’s now or
never,” Jay thought, and moved onto the floor, as if he just wanted to sit cross-legged, near the
door, and munch his bread pudding. He set the bowl aside, and with the key in his right hand, he
extended his arm through the door-flap and stretched it upward, straining, straining—seeking the
slot, into which he could slide the key of potential freedom. Just as Jason discerned the feeling
that he was seeking, just as it seemed he was going to succeed in actually inserting the key into
the lock—at that very second, the key fell from his hand and bounced on the floor.
Jay dropped to his stomach and tried to see the key through the flap. There it was! He
reached, but his reach was not long enough. He would need to get a spoon or something.
Nick heard the key fall. He was out of bed in an instant and silently tip-toed toward Jay’s
room. As he approached Jason’s door, he spotted the key lying on the floor. He could have
easily kicked it through the flap with his foot, but a voice behind him said, ”What’s going on?”
Nick took one more step forward, placing his foot directly on top of the key so that it
wouldn’t be seen by the thug behind him. “Sh-h-h,” Nick said. “I hear the kid moving about in
there.”
“Well let’s go see what he’s up to,” said the unwanted intruder. They both headed for the
room with the console, Nick pausing to scratch his ankle... and pick up the key. He slipped the
key into the pocket of his jeans. He had gone to bed with his clothes on; they all had.
As the two men entered the room with the electronic equipment, the third man appeared.
“What’s the party, guys?” he mumbled, noticing on the wall clock that it was not yet even 4
A.M.
“Junior is moving about his room, so we’re going to see what he’s up to,” said the first
guy, with the authority of a ringleader. Nick’s heart was pounding. What would the tapes
expose?
The cameras, in present time, showed Jason hunched over the floor vent straining to hear
what was happening elsewhere in the house. Nick was relieved, the other men just laughed.
“Let’s rewind the tapes and see what he’s been doing,” said the ringleader, reaching for the
www.TollyBurkan.com
44
switches. Nick said nonchalantly, “I’ll make some coffee.” He was groping for some way to
create a distraction.
“Coffee?” moaned the half-asleep man who never thought he was finished sleeping.
“Just go back to bed,” said the ringleader. Nick said, “Well I’m not going back to bed, I’m
having coffee. I’ll make extra for whoever wants some.” Nick was chattering to himself, as the
other man wasn’t even listening. He was watching the tapes being replayed on the monitors.
On one monitor, he saw Jason get up from the bed and go into the bathroom. On another
monitor, he watched Jason unzip his pants and proceed with the job at hand. Once his bladder
was empty, Jason returned to his bedroom and spotted the uneaten bread pudding. It was hard to
tell what he was doing now, maybe eating—“caveman style?” the thug thought, as he watched
the tape replay.
“Cream and sugar?” Nick called, trying to be distracting.
“Cream, no sug––” The sentence stopped mid-stream.
“Nick! Come over here.”
“This is it,” Nick thought. “Don’t panic.”
“Look at this Nikkie.”
There was Jason with his arm through the door. It wasn’t apparent that he had a key.
Fortunately, the microphone didn’t hear the tinkling sound the key made when it fell from Jay’s
hand. Now Jay was on his stomach, reaching and stretching. Still, it wasn’t obvious that a key
was involved. “What’s he doing, Nick?”
“It’s hard to say,” Nick replied. Just then, the other man said, “Listen. Nick? You hear
that?”
Nick listened. He heard nothing. “I don’t hear anything,” Nick said.
“Exactly! There’s no wind. The storm’s over.”
The larger man left the monitors and walked to the front door. He opened the door and
looked up into the night sky. It was clear and bright with stars.
“Br-r-r,” said Nick. “It’s cold, come in and close the door... coffee’s ready.”
Jason tried to hear what was happening. Through the vent, he could tell that others were
awake in the house. He heard talking, but couldn’t tell what was being said.
“You want something to eat?” Nick asked the other man.
www.TollyBurkan.com
45
“What you offering?”
“I have a Toblerone Bar I’ll share.”
“A what?”
“It’s chocolate—from Europe—you’ll love it. It tastes particularly good with coffee.”
“Sure, I’ll try some.”
Nick went to a shelf in the kitchen and re-emerged with the bar of chocolate. He
attempted to break some off, but it was too hard. He reached into his pocket to withdraw his
pocketknife, when the key tumbled to the floor. Both men stared at it in dumbfounded
amazement.
Suddenly, the man realized what Jason had been doing in the videotape—he instantly put
the pieces in his mind together —and he struck Nick with a heavy fist, knocking him against a
wall. Before Nick could react, the man lifted him into the air and tossed him against another
wall, shattering a mirror and sending shards of glass skidding across the floor.
Though Nick was small in stature, he was a street-kid at heart, and he knew how to fight.
He aimed for his adversary’s crotch and struck a bull’s-eye with his left foot. When the large
man doubled-up in pain and swooned backwards, Nick pounced on him, and let go with a string
of rapid-fire punches right into to the bigger man’s gut. Clearly, he had just won the upper-hand.
But by now, the other thug had been roused, and he entered the room with a quizzical,
“What’s happening?”
Nick was about to lunge, when, though a bit sleepy, the other man grabbed a gun from—
somewhere—and it was now pointing squarely at Nikita’s head. Nick froze.
From the floor, the groaning man managed to say, “Little Nikkie here was going to help
his young friend escape—weren’t you?” He flashed a menacing glare at Nick, who now just
crumpled into the nearest chair, himself bleeding from both his mouth and his nose.
Nick looked helplessly around the room. He was no match for these guys when they
were armed. “Wasn’t there another gun within reach?” his desperate mind was thinking.
Just then, a strange sound could be heard advancing toward the front of the house. The
ringleader grabbed Nick and pulled him from the chair. “Here,” he ordered, shoving Nick into
the arms of his partner. “You hold him while I check what’s happening outside.”
Nick was almost suffocated as a large, burly hand clasped firmly over his mouth to
prevent him from screaming or calling out. He felt the barrel of the gun being jammed into his
ribs.
www.TollyBurkan.com
46
While the one thug kept Nick restrained, the other crept cautiously toward the window
with his gun drawn. Through a break in the curtain, he saw two Hummers. Both had chains on
all four wheels, and the Hummer in front had a snowplow attached to its bumper. He flipped a
nearby switch and turned on the outside floodlights.
“It’s The Fatman!”
Nick’s blood suddenly ran cold, and he fainted.
The Fatman gave some orders to the driver of the Hummer with the snowplow, and then
headed toward the house, black case in hand, as the plow departed.
When The Fatman walked through the door, both men snapped to attention. “Sir,” said
one of the thugs, “we weren’t expecting you... not yet—what with the storm.”
The Fatman said dryly, “I want you out of here in ten minutes.”
“What about the roads, Sir?”
“Drive slow, you’ll manage.” Just then, The Fatman saw the situation for what it was.
Nick was passed out cold on the floor, pretty-well bloodied, and a mirror had been shattered,
with shards scattered all over the floor.
Before he could ask for an explanation, the more talkative of the two thugs volunteered
the story of what had just transpired. The Fatman looked at the wall clock. 4:50. I want you
both out of here by five.
“What about him?” the second thug asked, pointing to Nick.
The Fatman withdrew a small revolver from his coat pocket. “I’ll keep him covered
while you pack. Now move!”
In less than five minutes, both men were ready to depart. The Fatman aimed his gun at
Nick, and while the radical environmentalist lay sprawled on the floor and unconscious, at point
blank range, The Fatman shot him in the chest.
“Dump his body in the lake while it’s still dark. Now get out of here,” The Fatman
ordered. He watched them scurry from the room, with Nick’s lifeless body being dragged like a
sack of trash, blood streaking the floor as they exited. He listened as car tires spun on ice and
slid out of the driveway, fading into the night.
The Fatman went to the console room to survey the equipment. He was more than
familiar with it; after all, he was the one who installed it. He saw Jason leaning over the toilet
vomiting. Either the sound of gunfire, or eating bread pudding, didn’t seem to agree with him.
www.TollyBurkan.com
47
Chapter Twelve: Jay vs. The Fatman
Sunday dawned with a clear, cloudless sky. These were the kinds of days that tourists in
Tahoe dreamed of, as the snow-covered peaks created perfect picture-taking opportunities from
every point around the lake. The mountains reflecting on the azure water gave the entire scene a
surreal quality, and was one of the features that made Tahoe a world-class destination.
Jason sensed that something had changed. He lay on his bed, quiet and still. No
breakfast was slid through the door. Nothing in the house seemed to stir.
The Fatman was getting himself settled in. He made a few trips back and forth to the
Hummer, bringing in needed supplies. He set up his satellite phone, put some groceries in the
refrigerator, and opened his black case—not to remove anything, but to merely survey the
contents and reassure himself that all was in order. He snapped the case closed and set it on a
small table.
The Fatman went back into the room with all the electronic equipment. He pushed a few
buttons, flipped a few switches, and then said, “Jason, can you hear me?”
Jason sat up quickly, as if jolted by a massive shock. He leaped from the bed and began
surveying the room, seeking the source of the voice. “Yeah, I hear you,” he said.
“Turn on your TV,” The Fatman said.
“There’s no reception,” Jason began, “the dish is buried in snow. I just tried it, and––”
“Jason, do as you’re told!” The Fatman’s voice made Jason’s flesh erupt in goosebumps.
He immediately grabbed the remote and pressed the button marked “power.” The TV screen
flickered for a moment, and was then filled with the face of The Fatman. From the TV, The
Fatman spoke to him.
“Jason, do you know why we’ve brought you here?”
“’Cause you knew I wanted to go boarding this weekend?”
“Kid, don’t be a smart-ass. You don’t know who you’re talking to—and you have no
idea of the consequences if you piss me off. Now, I’ll ask you again: Do you know why you’re
here?”
“No, Sir,” Jason answered, his hubris now gone.
“Very well—I’ll tell you. Then I am going to eat my breakfast while you consider what
I’ve said. After I’m done eating, we’ll have another face-to-face chat. Just leave the TV on,
even if you don’t see any picture. Understand?”
www.TollyBurkan.com
48
Jason nodded. He knew he didn’t have to speak—he knew his every move was being
watched.
“Jason, you are here to provide me with your father’s formula. Not only are you to
supply me with the formula, you are going to explain it to me so there is no risk that I might not
have it exactly right. I’m going to wire it to experts who can verify the truth of what you give
me, and if you fully cooperate, you will be safely returned to your home.” The Fatman paused
for dramatic effect. “You do have the formula, don’t you?”
“Yes, Sir,” Jason lied. This was exactly what he was instructed to do, per Michael’s plan.
“Fine. But first I must eat.” The TV screen went black.
Michael had said that this strategy would buy time, but Jason was concerned that it
wasn’t going to buy enough time.
The Fatman prepared his breakfast, giving little thought to Jason, except for occasionally
considering how he would dispose of the boy’s body. He had already decided that he would kill
Jason—before he allowed Jay to see his face.
Meanwhile, Jay was pacing back and forth in his room like a caged animal. At one point,
he got down on his belly and tried peering through the flap in his door. Something had changed!
A large shard from the broken mirror had flown into a corner near Jason’s door. Suddenly, Jason
had a view into the next room. He couldn’t see much, but he could see a lot more than he could
before. He listened at the flap. Then he crawled over to the vent and listened again. He felt
certain that there was now just one other person in the house, beside himself. Well, he couldn’t
be certain, but that’s what his intuition said.
Within an hour, Jason heard sounds emanating from somewhere in the house. He peeked
through the flap and tried to see whether or not anything would be reflected in the shard of
mirror. Yes! He watched as The Fatman dragged a small table into his range of vision.
Concerned that he might be observed, Jay jarred the flap open just enough so that he could see
the reflection in the glass. The Fatman set a tray on the table. He opened a black, leather case
and withdrew several hypodermic needles and set them on the tray.
“Oh shit,” Jason thought with a shiver. He HATED needles!
Next, The Fatman withdrew several scalpels and other instruments, placing them on the
tray in a very orderly fashion. Jason’s heart began to pound so hard that his chest ached. His
hands were icy cold, and clammy with perspiration. He did not need to see any more. He sat on
the edge of his bed with his head bowed. He felt dizzy and wanted to cry, but tears wouldn’t
come.
Had he ever felt this bad in his whole life? Not that he could remember.
www.TollyBurkan.com
49
The lights flickered briefly. This reminded The Fatman to check the phone. The lines
were working again. “Excellent,” he thought. “At least I’ve got the Internet now.” He tested the
land-line phone by calling his home answering machine to remotely check for any messages that
may have been left for him. Nothing. All clear.
The Fatman’s face appeared on Jason’s TV. “We’re ready to start now Jason.”
“Can I have something to eat first? I’m really hungry,” Jason stated.
“No. It’s best for you to have an empty stomach. I have to give you some medication,
and—well, it’s best that you have an empty stomach.”
Jason was sure he was about to start shaking uncontrollably, something which had never
happened to him before; but, nonetheless, he sensed that his knees were already quivering. Just
then, something caught his attention, and he was momentarily distracted. Glancing quickly to
his right, he saw three bats circling near the ceiling.
In Berkeley, Janet, Christian, Ryan, Amy and Travis were playing cards at the Wagner’s
dining room table. Travis had spent the night, sleeping on the floor in Ryan’s room. Amy had
slept in Jason’s bed, and Christian spent six hours tossing and turning on the convertible sofa in
the living room. It only made sense for them all to be under the same roof. This was the core
group. This was the support that Janet needed. If, and when, the phone call came—demanding
ransom or delivering instructions—it had been decided that everyone now present should be
there.
The card game made everyone laugh once or twice; the players engaged in some
mindless banter, but, in truth, no one’s heart was really in the game. It was meant to be a
distraction. Though it seemed that they were playing cards, they were all there just waiting, by
the phone—hoping it would ring—hoping that maybe the police would call with some good
news.
The Berkeley Police had already tapped the Wagners’ phone line, so if anyone made
contact with them, the call could be traced and recorded. Janet had been told that if indeed one
of the kidnappers called, she should keep him talking as long as possible. It takes time to trace a
call.
The Fatman looked down at Jason from the TV, mounted hospital-style from the ceiling,
opposite the bed. “Lie on the bed and get comfortable young man,” he said, trying to be
nonchalant.
Jay did as he was told.
“How old were you when you got this information from your father?”
“Thirteen,” Jay said without hesitation.
“You know, of course, exactly what we’re looking for—what we need from you?”
www.TollyBurkan.com
50
“Yes I do,” Jason said, again without hesitating.
“Jason, is everything we need in your head?” The Fatman decided he needed to rephrase
the question, and he quickly added, “What I mean is, do you have anything written down—notes
you need to refer to?”
Jason considered that if he said “yes,” then maybe his captor would transport him
somewhere—perhaps this was an opportunity to escape? Overhead, the bats were circling.
“It’s all in my head, Sir.” That wasn’t what he was preparing to say at all. Jason
suddenly realized that the bats were taking control of the situation. But that was his own voice
saying the words.
The next ten minutes felt like a roller-coaster to Jason, as he continued answering The
Fatman’s questions—not knowing where the words were coming from, as they emerged from his
mouth. What a ride!
The Fatman asked, though he phrased it like a statement, “It would seem to me, even
though you say you assisted your father while he performed experiments, it would still seem that
you certainly cannot have everything that we need—memorized—completely and accurately
memorized, in your head—I’m not sure if you really think I believe that?”
“Well Sir,” Jason spouted, “you and I both know that you are not going to release me
until everything I tell you is confirmed and verified. I’m of course prepared to be here a while,
since it will take almost a week to test what I am telling you. And don’t you think I know that
you’ll kill me if I lie to you. I’m not stupid Sir, on the contrary, I am exceptionally intelligent, as
you are about to find out—so be assured, I am going to cooperate with you.”
At this point, Jason became absolutely incredulous as he heard himself say, “Besides, I
want my father’s discovery to be known and used. Otherwise, he died in vain. I thank God he
gave me his secret and I thank God you’re here to see that it gets used—because we both know
that our own government had plans to keep it under wraps.” There were now six bats circling
Jason’s bed.
“Listen to me closely Jason. In a moment, I want you to lie on the floor, on your back. I
want you to position yourself next to the door. Roll up your sleeve and put your arm through the
flap. I’m going to give you an injection. You will then lie on the bed again. Do you
understand?”
Jason did not respond. He did not move. Half a minute passed and The Fatman spoke
again. “Jason, did you understand what I just said?”
“I’m sorry, Sir,” Jason managed to say with a quivering voice. “I don’t want to do that.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
51
“Jason!” The Fatman almost shouted, in fact Jason heard his voice vibrate right through
the walls of the house, “You have no choice. See the little holes in the wall up near the ceiling to
your left, that’s where the gas will come out if you don’t do as I say right now.”
Jason moved slowly, as if his body was suddenly made of lead. He had to drag himself
into position. He rolled up the sleeve of his shirt and slid his left arm through the flap.
On the other side of the door, he heard a voice say, “Make a fist.” There was a jab, and
then something warm seemed to creep into his vein. “That’s it. Go lie on the bed,” said the
voice on the other side of the door.
Jason thought, “That wasn’t so bad.”
The Fatman was again on television. “We’re starting out slowly Jason. You might say,
we’re experimenting right now. This shot will help you speak more freely.”
Jason didn’t feel anything unusual. “Maybe this is a test,” he considered. “Maybe this
was just a placebo?”
“Where’s your shoes Jason?” asked The Fatman.
Jason had been wearing socks ever since he first showered. His shoes were in the closet.
Well they weren’t actually shoes, they were hiking boots, but they were in the closet, and he said
so.
“Go get them and put them on,” ordered the man in the box.
Jason complied, while wondering what the purpose was in this seemingly meaningless
exercise. When he was back on the bed with his footwear on, The Fatman said, “Now tie the
laces of the right foot to the laces of the left foot.”
Jason was about to ask “why?” but changed his mind as the bats glided past his ear,
whispering as they flew.
“Soon you’re going to get very sleepy Jason. You won’t really be asleep, but you will
feel as if you are sleeping. However, you will clearly hear my voice, and you will be able to
speak.” The Fatman droned on, but Jason was already sleeping, eyes closed, breathing slow and
rhythmically.
“What’s your name?” came a sharp voice from the TV.
“Jason Wagner,” came a mumble from the limp body on the bed.
It occurred to The Fatman that he might have over-medicated Jason, though earlier, he
had actually considered that perhaps he had under-medicated the boy. After a few moments of
thought, The Fatman went to his bulky, black, leather case, and rummaged a small vile from its
www.TollyBurkan.com
52
depths. He slipped it into a pocket and then fished out another hypodermic needle, a much larger
one than he had used before. He then peered into the case, withdrew a second vile, plus two
stainless-steel instruments, and put all of these in another pocket.
The Fatman went to a shelf and removed his gun. He checked the barrel to make sure
there were still several shells, after already expending one on Nick. He took the key from the
nail on the wall next to Jason’s door, and unlocked the deadbolt.
“Jason, I have my gun drawn and you are not to move,” said The Fatman as he
approached the bed where Jason slept. He looked down at the boy. It was impossible to know
Jason’s condition without first performing a few tests. The Fatman reached into his pocket and
retrieved one of the stainless-steel instruments he had put there a minute ago. He glanced at the
metallic object, and never saw Jason’s boot approach quickly from the right, at lightning speed,
with the force of a freight train in motion.
The Fatman fell to the floor, but his gun was still in hand. As he propped himself up, a
bit stunned, but still clear-headed, Jason delivered the most outstanding helicopter kick of his
life. The Fatman went down and unconscious.
Jason didn’t know that he had actually knocked The Fatman unconscious, because he was
out the door before he ever thought of looking over his shoulder. As soon as he was outside, his
first thought was, “Oh shit, it’s freezing!” Jason was certainly not dressed for this weather, but
he was free. Technically, it wasn’t freezing. Thirty-two degrees above zero is freezing. The
outside temperature was presently a menacing five degrees above zero. No human being dressed
as thinly as Jason, could survive very long outside in this weather.
It then occurred to him that The Fatman would be chasing him—with a gun! There was
absolutely no way he could hide his trail in the snow. He knew where he was heading, because
he had already figured out that he was just a short distance from the cabin of people he knew... at
least his parents had known them. And, as he recalled, they had a snow-mobile in the garage.
When Jason realized that there was no way he could hide his tracks, he almost panicked
with despair. But then he looked up, and saw the six bats fluttering in front of him. He had no
choice but to trust these bats. They had earlier told him to fake the knots on his boots. They
were the ones who told him not to follow Michael’s original plan.
As his heart was racing, Jason began to feel the effect of the chemical now cycling
through his veins. He felt woozy and intoxicated, not the same kind of intoxication he felt after
calc class, but a dulling and disorienting drunkenness. The bats flew ahead of him and he
followed. They made a U-turn and led him toward the newly plowed road. He followed. They
led him onward, and though he did not recognize the course, he was soon standing behind the
house he had originally wanted to find. He was no longer cold. He was heaving heartily as he
sucked in needed air after the trek he had just made.
Though the back window of the garage was shuttered for protection from the weather,
Jason quickly and easily jimmied it open and was able to gain entry. The first thing he saw, was
www.TollyBurkan.com
53
the snow-mobile. “Fantastic!” he whispered out loud. As his thoughts coalesced through the fog
in his mind, he decided to search out other provisions. Half walking, half staggering, Jason
entered the main house through a door in the garage and sought a sweater or coat to keep him
warm. The entry closet proved to be a cornucopia—wool ski hats, scarves, gloves, sweaters,
coats, ear warmers, wool socks—everything he could possibly wish for was right there.
Jay knew he needed to stay warm speeding along on the snow-mobile. He put on earwarmers, a wool ski-mask with eye-holes, so he could also cover his face, he donned three bulky
sweaters, some quilted overalls, put on some stretchy, wool socks, decided there was room
enough in his boots for a second pair, donned them as well, then slid on an extra-large down
parka. Jay zipped it closed, wrapped a wool scarf around his neck, and decided to let the parka’s
hood hang free until he really needed it. He selected mittens instead of gloves, snatched two
wool blankets and a knapsack from the closet shelf, inspected himself, and thought it was time to
move on.
Just then, he remembered, “Food!” He figured he’d look for some food; but instead, he
curled into a fetal position, and fell fast asleep right there on the kitchen floor.
www.TollyBurkan.com
54
Chapter Thirteen: The Explosion
The weight of ice and snow on tree limbs, caused many branches to fall on telephone and
power lines in the Tahoe Basin. Thus, there were pockets in the area without light or phone
service. Even when phones came on, it was often just temporary. The aftermath of a blizzard is
sometimes as problematic as the storm itself.
Once The Fatman regained consciousness, the first thing he did was try the telephone, but
the lines were again dead. He didn’t think it was time to use the satellite phone—definitely not
until he first assessed the situation. He went outside and saw the tracks Jason had left in the
snow. They would be easy to follow—if he was a thinner man! After a moment of thought, he
got in the Hummer and began slowly driving the freshly plowed streets.
As The Fatman patrolled the area, Jason slept soundly; stirring only for an initial
moment, when he adjusted the knapsack he was using as a pillow. Michael was approaching,
flying in from the West, shrinking as he landed nearby. His first words were, “You look
different.”
“I feel different,” Jason responded.
“You look older,” the dragon observed.
Jason was about to reply, “I FEEL older,” but said nothing once Michael produced a
mirror. The teenager gazed at his own reflection. He hardly recognized himself. He appeared to
be a man of about thirty. No longer was his hair a distinctive shade of blond. It had turned
brown. His mustache was bushier and the lines around his eyes more pronounced. While he was
only aging days at a time in one world, he was aging extremely rapidly in the other. He regarded
this only as a passing, minor, curiosity, and changed the subject by saying, “I didn’t follow the
plan.”
“Of course you did,” Michael chuckled as he stroked one of his folded wings with a claw,
grooming himself, ‘dragon-style.’ “The plan changed, that’s all.”
“Really?” was Jason’s only response. He shivered. Perhaps his body was still cold? Just
then, he became aware of the large, black shape hovering—always just out of sight. He wanted
to say something about this, but hesitated to interrupt his teacher, who was already speaking.
“The bats pass on important communications. When something changes in this world,
and I want to let you know, after you are already in the other world, I send a bat to you, or
several bats, as the case may be. Often, you won’t even know that your power animal is around.
Thoughts will just pop into your head, and you’ll think they’re your own.” Michael considered
his words, then added, “Well they are your own, but thoughts can originate in many different
dimensions.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
55
Jason wasn’t sure that he understood what Michael was saying, perhaps because he was
distracted by worries of The Fatman. He said, “Michael, I’m afraid I’m not really free yet. I’m
afraid my trail is too easy to follow.”
“Believe me Jay, The Fatman is no longer an issue. You’re biggest concern should be the
temperature. Soon, the wind will pick up and the outside chill-factor will drop to 20 below
zero.”
Michael gave Jason the next part of the plan by direct transmission. As he received it,
Jason’s body shivered on the kitchen floor.
An hour had passed, as The Fatman drove around and around, futilely seeking evidence
Jason would have left in the snow. Once or twice, it occurred to him that another vehicle had
picked-up the boy, but he saw nothing indicating that other vehicles were on the road. He knew
the phones were out and that Jason could not call for help. The houses and cabins in the vicinity
were all vacation homes, and not one of them was presently inhabited. He knew that could
change at any moment, as the roads gave access to the area. But since this region was not close
to the ski resorts, it was also possible that most would remain vacant all winter.
The Fatman considered that Jason would have broken into one house or another to gain
protection from the weather, but he had to concede the reality that he himself was not the person
to verify this. That required more athletic men. Unless he spotted an obvious trail that he
himself could follow without effort, slogging through the snow was not an option. The wind
began to blow once again, and The Fatman realized that drifting snow would soon obliterate any
tracks the young boy would have left. He drove the Hummer back to his base camp, to think.
After a while, The Fatman had to admit that he had let the boy escape. He slowly
prepared the satellite phone. He didn’t need to calculate the time difference between here and
Afghanistan. He was among the few who had permission to phone 24 hours a day—time meant
nothing.
Some days, calls went through quickly, clearly, and without effort. This was not one of
those days. After 20 minutes of fussing, he was finally connected. “The boy doesn’t know
anything. We’ve tracked him for nothing all these years.” He listened. “Of course I am certain.
You know my methods, they never fail.”
The Fatman wasn’t sure he was being convincing. He heard voices at the other end,
apparently discussing this, then he was told to return to Sacramento for further instructions. He
did not have a chance to add any more words of his own. The connection went dead. The
Fatman was angry—VERY angry. He picked up the table and violently threw it across the room
as he shrieked and yelled with a reverberating roar. He continued shouting and screaming
incoherently in a blind rage. Objects shattered. Things large and small were smashed. The
creature was out of control.
After a time, after the interior of the house had been virtually destroyed by the gargantuan
man’s violent ranting and raving, he tossed a few personal belongings into the Hummer, and left.
www.TollyBurkan.com
56
He was still outraged and in denial over the turn of events. Not really paying attention to his
own driving, The Fatman continued venting his anger, shouting and screaming, inside the car.
Soon, he came to his senses, and realized that he had gotten himself utterly and completely lost.
He did not recognize any familiar landmarks. He knew he was climbing, when he thought he
should have been descending.
The Fatman wanted to turn the Hummer around and head in the opposite direction, but
the snowplow had made only a narrow path along the middle of the street. Reluctantly, he
continued up the steep incline, seeking a place where he could turn the unfamiliar vehicle
around. He did not like driving the Hummer, and missed his familiar Toyota 4Runner. After
another steep mile, he realized that conditions were not likely to improve, and decided he had no
choice but to maneuver the car with the circumstances being just as they were. After all, the
Hummer was designed to tackle exactly these kinds of challenging situations.
If he had been more skilled in driving icy roads, The Fatman would not have let his anger
interfere with his judgement, and he would not have lost control of the mammoth SUV. But as it
was, he had little time to react, once he realized that he was sliding over the edge of a granite
escarpment. The Hummer slammed into a rock outcropping, flipped, tumbled, and exploded in
mid-air. The loud, fiery explosion would normally have echoed throughout the Tahoe Basin, but
the snow-covered pines muffled the blast, and Jason hardly stirred in his sleep.
www.TollyBurkan.com
57
Chapter Fourteen: The Big Surprise
Jason awoke and looked at his watch. “Oh no,” he reacted. “It will be dark soon.” That
realization made him forget about food, and he hastily made his way into the garage. Getting the
snow-mobile out would be no easy task. The snow was deep, and when Jason powered-up the
automatic door opener, he was confronted with a wall of snow. The drifts had buried the
entrance almost to Jason’s full standing height.
Grabbing a snow-shovel, Jay began working on constructing a ramp. This wasn’t
necessarily a daunting task, but it was consuming precious minutes of daylight. He knew he had
to make it to his family’s cabin before it was dark. It would have been an easy task to zoom
there on the roads, but his fear of being found by The Fatman made him decide that he would
have to attempt this by going cross-country. When the ramp was completed, Jason tried starting
the snow-mobile. Nothing happened.
He checked the gas tank, he checked the spark plugs, he checked the wires. Everthing
seemed to be in order. There wasn’t much gas in the tank, but it would probably be enough; and
there was sufficient fuel so that the engine should have certainly started. He tried again.
Nothing! Jason noticed snowshoes hanging on the wall, and was just contemplating using them
to hike cross-country, when a bat glided past his face. Unlike the other bats, this one was real. It
slept in the rafter’s of the garage by day, and exited through the roof vent, to hunt by night.
Jason considered this to be an auspicious omen and he again tried the ignition of the
snow-mobile. This time, it started right up. Jay strapped the snowshoes to the knapsack
containing the two blankets, he straddled the seat, and, slowly, slowly, inched up the ramp. He
was conscientious enough to remember to click the remote door control, then tossed it back over
his shoulder and into the garage; making sure it landed inside, and that the door was securely
shut, before he headed up and over the hill opposite the house. Anticipating that he would be
followed, Jason attempted a circuitous route. A few times, he became disoriented, but as dusk
approached, he felt certain he would soon find the family’s cabin.
The wind was now blowing briskly, and Jason, covered with blowing snow, looked more
like a snowman than a human being. The setting sun was being reflected from all the natural
formations covered in ice. The scene was a phantasmagoric fairyland for the eyes, but Jason
noticed nothing. He was solely focused on reaching his destination before dark. Without any
warning, his engine stopped. He was out of gas. “No!” Jason screamed, his voice muffled by his
snow-encrusted ski-mask.
As if instinctively, Jason fitted the snowshoes onto his feet, and continued in the direction
he thought would lead him to his second home. He had only walked with snowshoes once
before, so he found the process slow and awkward. However, he knew that he had no choice but
to persevere. If he was trapped in the snow overnight, his chances of survival were very small.
He looked around. There were no cabins in sight. He saw neither headlights nor house lights. It
occurred to him more than once that he might be lost, but intuition told him to continue in the
direction he was moving. As it grew darker, Jason became concerned that he would walk right
into a tree. It was becoming more and more difficult to continue. Then he remembered that
www.TollyBurkan.com
58
there was a flashlight in the bottom of the knapsack. He removed it, and clutched it in his
mittened hand.
While struggling onward, Jason noticed that bats were out en masse. These were Tahoe
bats; they were not products of his imagination. Encouraged by the sight of his power animal,
Jay plodded forward. It was now pitch dark. Jay aimed the beam of the flashlight ahead, right,
then left. He needed to think about his course for a moment, so he snapped off the light to
conserve power. The flashlight was off, but still tightly clutched in his hand, when Jason became
aware of an animal. He didn’t yet know what it was—a mountain lion? A dog? A coyote? It
really didn’t matter, because Jay became so startled that he lost his balance and fell face forward
into the snow. He tried to move, but he couldn’t. Dreamily, he just let himself lie there, still and
without movement, as suffocation slowly anesthetized him.
Janet’s nerves were frayed to the point of agony. The waiting was killing her. When she
phoned her parents for support on Sunday afternoon, her father quoted meaningless Scripture
that did nothing to comfort her. Her mother said that both parents would fly to California, “...if
that’s what you want dear.” She did not have to think about it very long, when she said, “No.
There’s really nothing you can do here. I’ll keep you posted by phone.”
Amy had spent most of the day in Jason’s room. Except for the fact that the police had
taken his PC downtown to search it for clues, Jay’s room was exactly the way it had been when
he disappeared. Amy felt a slight twinge of guilt as she explored Jason’s personal world and the
things that comprised it. She read poetry he had written and stuffed in a drawer; she scanned the
titles of his books on the bookcase shelves, and removed two or three to skim their Tables of
Contents and a few pages; she touched the clothes he had hanging in his closet, even smelled
them, without thinking (that made her smile); then sat at his desk and stared at the branches
obscuring the view of the Bay. She hadn’t consciously defined it as such, but Amy was in love.
Mrs. Wagner had to force Ryan from her side, but she persuaded him to accompany
Christian and Travis to Blockbuster so they could get some movies to watch. Christian had
suggested that a few good comedies would provide a healthy distraction. As evening
approached, he reminded everyone that they would again probably be up late, and would again,
not get a lot of sleep. Everyone was more or less brain-dead and exhausted.
As the sun set on San Francisco Bay behind the silhouette of the Golden Gate Bridge, the
guys returned with Chinese food and three funny movies. Ryan said, “If you don’t like the
movies Mom, blame Christian and Travis. They both out-voted me every time.”
Michael tried to revive Jason. The boy was aware of the dragon’s presence, but ignored
him. Jay couldn’t move. He was not distressed, he felt relaxed actually, and very much at peace,
as if drifting in warm water. A little voice from somewhere within said, “If you don’t move,
you’re going to die,” but he didn’t care. If this was death, Jason welcomed it.
Vaguely, Jay sensed the bats circling over his lifeless body. The REAL bats, the Tahoe
bats. He heard Michael speaking to him, but for the first time ever, he didn’t care to listen. He
www.TollyBurkan.com
59
was already merging with the snow, becoming one with inanimate nature, when he noticed the
fragrance.
“What’s that?” It was perfume. Amy’s face appeared inside Jay’s brainbox. A part of
his limp body stirred, and the boy rolled over. He opened his eyes. It was still dark, but he was
suddenly motivated to get up from the snow, turn on his light, and continue forward. He would
never have lingered there if he had known how close he was to his destination. As he crossed
over the ridge he was climbing, he looked down and saw the expansive lake, defined, even in the
darkness. Starlight revealed the house, not far from the west bank of the water’s edge.
Jay wanted to run, wanted to fly, down the hill toward home. But he had no choice but to
trudge slowly on, step by step, in the awkward snowshoes. When he reached the cabin, late
though it was, Jay became acutely awake and profoundly invigorated. Using the flashlight, he
easily located the hidden key, and was soon inside the frigid, but comforting coziness of his
family’s house.
He first tried the lights, but the power was out and there were none. Not that this was a
problem, as he knew they had kerosene lamps. Jay next tried the phone. It seemed to be dead,
but he couldn’t be sure. He heard static on the line, but never got a dial tone. He hung up the
phone and decided to retrieve a kerosene lamp, when he heard a strange sound on the second
floor. Jay’s heart rose to his throat. He then noticed that a window had been smashed out in the
main room. This wouldn’t be the first time a bear had broken into the cabin.
As he was trying to decide the best course of action, something descended the stairs—not
walking—rather, tumbling. Jay was struck, and almost knocked over, by the impact. He stepped
back, shone his light on the shape before him, was startled, and screamed—“Nick!”
www.TollyBurkan.com
60
Chapter Fifteen: The Phone Call
Nick lay semi-conscious on the floor. It was only after he recognized Nick’s face that
Jason remembered the familiar-sounding voice back at the place of his incarceration. He needed
light. The flashlight was fading and was pitifully inadequate. Jay used the dimming glow to
locate a kerosene lamp, found matches, and soon had sufficient light to inspect Nick more
closely. His skin was blue. He had blackened eyes and bruises on his face, and blood all over
his shirt.
Jason wasn’t sure he understood the whole picture, but he knew that he had to help Nick,
if it was even possible to help him?
Nick had a bullet lodged in one of his vertebrae. Miraculously, it had entered between
his ribs, passed almost harmlessly between his lung and his heart, and missed his spinal cord by a
quarter of an inch. When he regained consciousness, he was in the trunk of a car. The car was
not equipped with chains or snow tires, so it was constantly sliding and skidding along the icy
streets. At one point, the car left the roadway, tumbled, and landed half-submerged in the alpine
water. The occupants up front were securely belted, dazed by exploding airbags, and drowned in
their seats. It took Nick hours to manage an exit from behind the back seat. It cost him most of
the little strength he had left, after losing so much blood.
When he finally made it to shore, Nick was shivering beyond control, soaking wet,
disoriented, and almost dead. Instead of collapsing, he clung to a tree for support and tried to get
his bearings. “Could it be?” he thought in disbelief. “Am I really this close to the Wagners?”
Because he was so cold, and almost dead, his blood-loss had been slowed. Enough of it,
however, still pumped through his veins so that he could make it from the car to the Wagner’s
cabin. After breaking in, he struggled to crawl up the stairs to get warm in one of the blanketed
beds. He saw the phone at the top of the stairs, and instead of trying to save himself by calling
911, he pressed Janet’s number into the pad on the handset.
It was Ryan who answered the phone. All Nick could utter was, “Jason’s in Tahoe,” and
then the line went dead. Five minutes later, he heard someone enter the house downstairs.
Jason realized that the most important thing he could do for Nick was to get him warmed
up—and fast. Jay stripped the wet clothes off the battered body of this man he had come to
know as a friend. He then saw the bullet hole. The wound had stopped bleeding—either
because Nick was so cold that his circulation was impaired, or, perhaps, he had lost so much
blood, there wasn’t much left. Jason could not even imagine the answers to his many questions;
but he clambered up the stairs and tore wool blankets and down quilts from the beds. Returning
to Nick’s body, which now lay so still and unconscious that Jay couldn’t even be sure whether or
not Nick was still alive, he bundled the limp figure in layers of blankets, then checked for a
pulse. Nick was still living, but without much life left.
Jay then headed for the woodstove to get a fire started. There were only a few logs
inside; the rest were buried under the snow, if indeed there were any left outside at all. Both
Jason and Ryan had been remiss when their mom had told them to restock the wood supply.
www.TollyBurkan.com
61
With some struggling, Jason did manage to get a fire kindled. He then checked on Nick, and
decided that the unconscious man was not going to warm up—there wasn’t enough wood and he
was barely alive.
Jason lit two more kerosene lamps, and used one to scout out every piece of linen, every
quilt and blanket, and every towel he could find upstairs. He dragged this all down the steps, and
began making a bed on the floor in front of the fire. He knew it was important to quilt and
insulate the floor, before he carried Nick’s small frame over to the fire, and laid him gently down
on the improvised mattress. Jason piled the remaining quilts and blankets on top of Nick, then
huddled up next to him and tried speaking to the lifeless figure of his friend, who somehow had
gotten involved in this whole crazy mess.
Ryan was surrounded by policemen, and the four other members of the core group. As
he sat in the living room of his house, all Ryan could repeat was, “That’s all he said: ‘Jason’s in
Tahoe.’ Then he hung up.”
It was almost 8 P.M. Sunday night. They finally had a lead—not much of a lead, but a
lead nonetheless. Also, Ryan had said that the voice somehow seemed familiar, though he
conceded that he might only have been imagining that. “Think, think hard,” his mother pleaded,
“think who that voice belongs to.”
When Nick failed to show any more signs of life, Jason became more and more
concerned. He didn’t know what else to do. Just then, he noticed a bat fluttering aimlessly
around the room. At this point, he couldn’t tell the real from the unreal, but then the idea
occurred to him that there was another way to warm Nick’s frozen body. He unwrapped the
cocoon he had constructed around the corpse-like man, he quickly removed his own clothes, slid
his naked body next to Nick’s own naked flesh, and then mounded the remaining blankets on top
of them both. “When that fire goes out,” he whispered in Nick’s ear, “this may save both our
lives.” Being a teenage boy, Jay momentarily felt inhibited and self-conscious, but not for more
than a split-second, as he knew instinctively that this was a matter of life and death. So he
embraced Nick, and began to carefully rub the body of his smaller, but older friend; visualizing
blood moving throughout the frigid form.
Within an hour, Jason noticed a response from the fallen Nick. Gradually, his body was
starting to warm. Blood was flowing into the tissues of Nick’s extremities, and every once in a
while, he made a sound, tried to move his lips, and his eyelids fluttered. Jay continued
massaging Nick and whispered in his ear, “You’re going to be all right Nick. I’ll take care of
you.” He thought a second, felt a tear stream down his cheek, because he doubted what he just
said—but within a second, and with new conviction, he affirmed, “We’re going to be all right.”
The fire finally died out, and though cold air was still streaming through the smashed
window, Jason couldn’t bear the thought of creeping out from under the blankets, naked, with
intentions of sealing the gaping hole. He simply embraced Nick closer to his own body, until
they were both entwined, and fell asleep.
www.TollyBurkan.com
62
“You’re getting older,” Michael said. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed for Jason
that he was rapidly aging... but only in Michael’s world, not in his own. Reading his thoughts,
Michael chuckled, “You don’t yet feel at home here? I’m sorry to learn that. This is just as
much your world, as it is mine. How could it be otherwise?”
“Michael, this has been a helluva day.” Jason felt that all he managed to say was an
under-statement.
“Well, so far, you’ve made all the right choices,” the dragon was quick to point out. “I
can council you, the bats can point a direction, but ultimately, you are alone when you make your
choices.”
“Michael, I’m exhausted... inside and out.”
“That happens sometimes.
resources.”
Even the inner man occasionally needs to recharge his
Jason’s sleep became dreamless. He was only aware that he felt a sense of relief, that
somehow tomorrow would be a better day. As the fire died, the two young men—
unconsciously—kept snuggling closer and closer together beneath the covers, instinctively
seeking warmth; and color slowly, almost imperceptibly, entered Nick’s bluish face. While
sleeping, Jason could sense life returning to Nick’s body, as Nick would sometimes move under
the mountain of blankets.
They were enmeshed in each other’s arms, bodies tangled together, when, shortly after
midnight, the electric lights came on; and an astonished Ryan, and a very shocked Travis,
simultaneously exclaimed: “DUDE!”
www.TollyBurkan.com
63
Chapter Sixteen: 911
Earlier, Nick’s call had triggered an unimaginable commotion in the Wagner house.
Ryan immediately convinced his mother that he and Travis should use Jason’s car and head for
the family cabin—to use it as a staging area. The police in the Tahoe Basin would be doing all
they could, of course, but the kids from school would want to come and help—put up more
posters, search the hills—they’d need somewhere to crash.
Amy said, “I’ll go home, get my car and meet you up there with a box of posters. I’ll
start a phone tree too.”
Christian said, “Amy, I’ll draw a map with driving instructions for you to copy and FAX
to your friends.”
Janet said, “Ryan, I don’t think there’s enough firewood up there to heat the house if the
power’s out. Take some oak, and buy a few DuraLogs on your way.”
Amy asked, “Will our cell phones work up there?”
“Depends on your carrier, and on the weather,” Ryan informed her.
“Well,” Amy instructed, “let’s all make sure our phones are fully charged; and let’s all
keep them on, all the time.”
Ryan and Travis spent scant time loading their gear and boards into Jason’s car, and
headed for Route 80. Travis, who had more experience driving, took the first shift behind the
wheel. “Do you have a plan?” he asked Ryan.
“Nah, not really. Let’s discuss it during the ride and see what we come up with.”
The boys decided that the first thing they should do was get the cabin ready for the
onslaught they were expecting. Every few minutes, one of their cell phones would chirp with an
update from Amy. It seemed that most of their friends in the junior and senior class were cutting
school Monday to join the search. There would be kids arriving all through the night.
Ryan said to Travis, “Dude, you did such an awesome job organizing everything at the
school yesterday, why don’t you just do the same thing tomorrow.”
Travis nodded, “’K.”
Amy, about 90 minutes behind the boys on Route 80, was saying to the friends in her car,
“Tahoe is a huge place. Jay could even be in the back-country. Where do the police begin to
search?” The thought of the formidable task seemed daunting to consider. The car grew silent
as everyone realized that a monumental challenge lay ahead.
www.TollyBurkan.com
64
A girl in the car broke the stillness by saying, “My brother and his friends are coming up
with their boards. If Jay’s in the back country, they’ll be checking-out that area.”
Someone else in the car said, “I’ve never boarded. Can you really do that in the backcountry?” No one knew the answer to that question, and the subject changed.
By the time Ryan and Travis arrived at the cabin, the wind and shifting snow had
obliterated Jason’s tracks and signs of his entry. It only disturbed Ryan briefly when he couldn’t
find the hidden key, but the door was unlocked, so he just walked in and reached for the light
switch. Jay hadn’t heard a thing, and slept soundly until the lights went on.
There wasn’t anyone present who wasn’t stunned—except Nick, who never stirred.
Completely taken aback to discover that the object of their search was right here, and that
the search was ending, before it had even begun, Ryan was literally flabbergasted. After initially
exclaiming “DUDE!” his next words were, “My God! Jay are you OK?” Just then, he
recognized Nick’s lifeless body on the floor next to his brother. “Is that Nick?”
“Yes,” Jason said simply. “Call 911 on your cell. He’s been shot and is almost dead.”
Ryan said to Travis, “You call 911. I’m calling my mother.”
When Janet answered the phone, Ryan could only sob, and through his blubbering, he
choked out the words, “Jay’s HERE! He’s OK.” The next voice that Janet heard, was that of her
oldest son. “I’m OK Mom. Really. I’m OK.”
“Christian and I are on our way,” his mother said. “Oh Jason, Jason, Jason––” she could
speak no more, as she was overwhelmed by her tears.
Travis stirred the embers in the woodstove, added a DuraLog, with some oak, so that by
the time the ambulance arrived, the room was already getting warmed. Jay had gotten dressed,
and though he insisted that he was fine, he was loaded into the ambulance next to Nick.
Ryan left Travis at the cabin to await the arrival of his sister; while he himself followed
the ambulance, driving his brother’s car. He was still uninformed as to what had happened, since
he and Jay had barely spoken between the constant cell phone activity. In the car, as he was
driving to the hospital, Ryan said out loud, “Holy shit.” It was his only response, once he
suddenly understood that it was Nick’s voice on the telephone.
Between the time of Ryan’s departure and Amy’s arrival, Travis covered the broken
window with plastic, cardboard, and duct tape. He stoked the fire into a raging inferno, and
turned on the power to the hot-tub. For a fleeting moment, he acknowledged that this was the
first time in memory that he had been alone with himself, and was not thinking of suicide. A bat
fluttered near the stove and Travis grabbed a broom—successfully shooing him out the opened
door.
www.TollyBurkan.com
65
Travis attempted to phone some of his friends to inform them that Jay had been found;
and that they didn’t need to come up. Trying to dissuade anyone from coming to Tahoe, though,
turned out to be futile. It seemed that almost half the school was right now en route. In less time
than expected, Amy arrived, followed by an endless stream of cars filled with teenagers and
snowboards.
www.TollyBurkan.com
66
Chapter Seventeen: The Hospital
By the time the ambulance arrived at the hospital, the police were already waiting. Both
Jason and Nick were rushed into the emergency room. It seemed that Nick might not live; but
once it was determined that Jason was up to a brief conversation, two policemen approached
him. “Who did this?” the first officer asked. “I’m not sure,” Jay replied, never mentioning that
he knew Nick and suspected his friend might have been involved.
The second cop asked, “Who is the other guy, and how did he get shot?”
“I’m not sure.”
The police had many questions, but all Jason said was, “I’m really hungry. Please get me
some food. Please.” A doctor entered and asked the policemen to leave while he drew blood.
The cops went to get Jason something to eat. He was not clearheaded and was reluctant
to speak to the police. He certainly didn’t want to get Nick in trouble. Nick! How could he find
out how Nick was doing? After all, except for feeling a bit hung-over from The Fatman’s shot,
he felt pretty good. It was Nick who was really in trouble.
“How can I find out about the condition of the other guy?” Jay asked the doctor who had
just finished drawing his blood.
“I’ll see what I can discover,” the doctor said, and then left Jason alone.
Ryan entered. “Heya Rin,” Jason said as he greeted his brother.
Ryan sat down in the chair next to the examination table. “You wanna tell me ‘bout it?”
he asked.
“Yeah, I’ll tell you, but not now. Rin, I need some time to sort stuff out. Besides, I’m
feeling funny from this shot I got when I was being held prisoner.”
The brothers sat together in silence for about ten minutes; then the doctor came in and
informed Jason that he was being admitted to the hospital. “Your mother phoned, and she has
authorized us to admit you. She won’t be here for another three or four hours, so we are going to
put you in a room, and hopefully, you’ll get a little sleep before your mother arrives.” Then the
doctor added, “Oh, the other guy—he’s being prepped and will be going to the operating room as
soon as a surgeon arrives. I can’t tell you anything about his condition, because I don’t know
anything more. He’s still alive.”
Pointing to Jason with his thumb extended, Ryan immediately said to the doctor, “I’m his
brother. Can I stay with him until our mother gets here?”
“I’ll arrange it,” the doctor said. “We have plenty of open beds. I’ll put him in a room
with two beds, and you can get some sleep too, in the bed next to his.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
67
“Thank you very much,” Jason remembered to say, as the doctor disappeared.
“I’m not allowed to use my cell in here,” Ryan informed his brother. “So I’m going
outside to call Mom and Travis just to bring them up to speed.”
“’K.” Jason nodded. “See you in a bit.” As Ryan left, one of the policemen returned
with a sandwich and some hot cocoa. “Here you go Jason,” the uniformed cop said, as he placed
the food and beverage on the bedside table. “I understand that you’re being admitted, so we
decided there’s time enough tomorrow to speak with you. Just get some rest now.”
“Thank you,” Jason said with obvious relief, and reached for the sandwich. He savored
every bite, though it was not the best sandwich he’d ever eaten. He finished his meal alone, and
was just starting to sip his cocoa, when Ryan reappeared. “Dude,” Ryan began, “Mom’s on
Route 80, just west of Sacramento. Travis said there’s already 10,000 kids at the house, and
Amy said I should tell you that she has a lot to tell you—whatever that means?”
Jason replied, “Rin, here it is Sunday night, and you, me, Travis and Amy are all in
Tahoe.”
“First of all Jay, it’s not Sunday night—it’s Monday morning already. And if I knew in
advance that this was your idea of a weekend in Tahoe, I don’t think I would have signed on.”
And Ryan still didn’t even know the half of it.
Two nurses appeared, whisked Jay away, and within minutes, they were settling him into
his room. Ryan tried to remain out of the way and on the fringe of the activities as the nurses put
an I.D. bracelet on his brother, recorded vital signs, and gave him a hospital gown.
Jason asked, “Can I take a shower?”
“Of course,” came the reply. The nurse who gave him his gown showed Jason to the
shower. “If you need anything, just push the buzzer attached to your bed. Try to get some
sleep.” The nurse left.
Ryan said matter-of-factly, “Jay—Dude—I’m going to crash in the bed next to yours. If
I’m asleep when Mom gets here, you wake me... ’K?”
“’K.”
When Jason returned to his own bed after a brief, but extremely refreshing shower, Ryan
was snoring. Ten minutes later, so was Jason.
“Seems like you have a few more lines in your forehead tonight,” Michael said, as Jason
arrived.
“I’m not surprised,” Jay shrugged. “It’s been a—day!”
www.TollyBurkan.com
68
Michael said, “You think you’ve had a hard day; believe me, it’s Nick whose had the
hard day.”
“Is he going to live?” Jason wanted to know in the worst way.
“Yes, but his problems aren’t nearly over. Right now, the police are assuming that he is
also a kidnap victim. But they will soon learn the part he played.”
“How will they find out if neither me nor Nick say anything?”
“You’ll see soon enough. You won’t have to wait long.”
Just then, a chill and a shiver ran through Jason’s entire body. He again noticed the
presence of a large, dark shape—hovering just out of sight.
“Michael, what is that shadowy thing that sort of hovers nearby, but never comes into the
light so I can see it?”
“That’s your doubt Jay. It hangs like a dark cloud over your head, and follows you
wherever you go. When you’ve banished all doubt from your own mind—when you've mastered
the lesson of taking full responsibility for everything that happens to you, when you are an
unshakable pillar of confidence as you make the choices that lie ahead of you—then—and only
then, will that disappear.”
Jay tossed in his sleep. “You seem discombobulated,” was all Michael said.
“It’s Nick,” Jason began. “I don’t really know how he fits into all this, but I’m concerned
about him.”
“Let’s go check on him,” Michael said, as he slipped between Jason’s legs, enlarged
himself, and began ascending—all before Jason could even respond.
“Here’s a new treat for you,” said the dragon, as they approached an air intake vent
outside the hospital. Both the dragon and the human on his neck, quickly began shrinking, until
they were smaller than peas in a pod. Gliding between the vent’s louvers, Michael navigated the
air ducts within the hospital and emerged in the operating room.
When Jason looked down, he said to Michael, “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I
think I’m going to be sick.”
Nick was connected to wires and tubes. The faces of the surgeons were all grave. One of
the doctors was saying, “He’ll make it, because he’s young. But he’s not going to have an easy
time of it.”
“He’s going to make it,” Jason celebrated. “You heard that, didn’t you Michael?”
www.TollyBurkan.com
69
The white dragon didn’t respond, but headed back into the air duct, darting this way and
that, until they emerged. “Let’s go to my place, then we’ll discuss this,” he finally said once they
were outside.
Jason was about to exclaim, “You’re place?” when Michael inflated himself to mammoth
proportions, flapped his expansive wings, and lifted them above the clouds. Soon, Jason was
warm all over, and a sense of well-being filled his every cell and pore. He was distinctly aware
that the dark, black, chilling shape was nowhere around. Within moments, Jason and Michael
were both hovering in space. The dragon reduced himself, stepped a few feet away from Jason,
and announced, “We’re here.”
Jason looked around. “Here,” was nowhere. They were simply floating in empty
space—though the space was white, rather than black. There were no visible signs of objects,
not even clouds, yet something billowy seemed to buoy them. So Jay said, “We seem to be
nowhere at all Michael. This is your home? Am I missing something?”
“You’re exactly right Jay. We are nowhere... but spell it: Now Here.”
Jay wanted to say, “Stop speaking in riddles,” but never got the words out, because
Michael was already speaking. “You are the one who will actually be saving Nick’s life.”
Jay did not at all understand what that was supposed to mean; however, instead of getting
into a dialogue with the dragon, he was snatched from sleep by his mother’s gentle prodding.
“Jay, Jay darling, it’s Mom.”
Jay opened his eyes, saw his mother, and the two of them embraced; Janet, completely
lost her balance as her son hugged her furiously, pulling her right onto his bed. Ryan snored on.
Janet and Jay laughed and cried for almost five minutes, without saying a word between them.
Finally, Christian slipped quietly into the room, and Janet, noticing him from the corner of her
eye, thought to initiate some questions. “Jay, what happened?”
Jason related to Janet and Christian, all he could remember. He never mentioned
Michael, or cold fusion, of course. He was still puzzled by Nick’s involvement.
Christian said, “I gather from what I heard the nurses saying, they think that Nick was
also a kidnap victim.”
While Ryan slept soundly, Christian, Janet and Jason discussed the puzzle pieces each
possessed. In the middle of the talk, without any seeming connection to the topic at hand, Jay
blurted out, “Mom, I didn’t cheat on my calc test.”
“I didn’t think for a moment that you had,” his mother laughed.
www.TollyBurkan.com
70
Night turned to day without Jason getting any more sleep. Shortly after the sun rose, a
commotion in the hall caught everyone’s attention. Ryan finally awoke, in time to join the rest
who were already staring out the window in disbelief. The hospital’s parking lot was filled with
dozens and dozens of teenagers, possibly hundreds, with more arriving every minute. Most had
snowboards, and were plying the manmade slopes created by snowplows when the lot had been
cleared the day before.
Soon, the police had to be summoned, as the throngs of boarding teenagers in and around
the parking lot were interfering with normal hospital routines, like making it difficult for
Monday morning deliveries to the medical facility. From the crowd outside, only Amy and
Travis were successful in entering the hospital. Mrs. Wagner went down the hall and convinced
the proper people to allow the brother and sister to join the family already gathered in Jason’s
room.
When Amy and Travis entered Jason’s room, Jay locked eyes with the girl, and though
neither spoke, worlds of understanding passed between them.
As the morning unfolded, several developments kept the Wagners and their friends in
constant suspense. Jay told his mother, Christian and the three other teens as much as he could,
but at no time did he speak about Michael, or cold fusion. Christian, a retired lawyer, managed
to protect Jason from interrogation for most of the day. However, Ryan had already spoken with
the police during the night, when he first arrived at the hospital. He had told them that he
discovered Jason and Nick tangled together, naked, under the pile of blankets.
During the day, on Monday, the police discovered the bodies of The Fatman and the two
thugs. They also found the cabin in which Jason had been held captive. By Monday evening,
even though the investigation was still in progress, Christian learned that Nick’s fingerprints, and
some damning videotape, had implicated him in the kidnapping. Though Nick was in the
Intensive Care Unit, on Life Support, in a coma and fighting for his life, Christian surmised that
the young man was likely to be charged with kidnapping, forced imprisonment, conspiracy to
commit murder, producing child pornography and lewd and lascivious behavior with a minor.
Tuesday morning, a policeman was permanently stationed outside the door of the I.C.U.
www.TollyBurkan.com
71
Chapter Eighteen: The Party
Attendance was sparse at Jason’s school that Monday. Those who had gone to class,
found that a “party spirit” seemed to prevail in every classroom, and no serious schoolwork
occurred. The teenagers who had been disbursed from the parking lot, returned to the Wagners’
cabin and partied all day. When rumors started circulating that Jason was going to be released
from the hospital sometime Monday afternoon, plans and preparations for a monumental
homecoming celebration got underway.
At the hospital, all who knew Jason before, noticed a subtle, but unmistakable change in
the boy’s appearance and demeanor. He was confident when he told the police he wouldn’t
speak with them until he had a lawyer present. When they balked at this, citing that he was the
victim and wasn’t going to be charged with anything, he held his ground. Christian, serving Jay
as a temporary advocate and personal friend, shielded him from what could have been a string of
stressful confrontations. But even without the youth’s help, the police uncovered enough
evidence in the kidnappers’ cabin to form a fairly accurate picture of what had transpired.
Cell phones chirped throughout the day, as plans were made to release Jason from the
hospital. Many friends, and well-wishing strangers, were waiting for him at his family’s cabin.
But Jason was adamant that he had no intention of leaving Nick alone. Ryan said, “Jay, I feel
like it’s partly my fault that Nick might get charged with the lewd thing. After all, it was me
who told the cops you two were naked.”
“But he was unconscious! And it was me who took off our clothes,” Jay was protesting.
“Duh! Doesn’t anyone have a brain?”
Ryan agreed, “It’s crazy, but so is the law sometimes. Look Jay, since I might have
started some of this, let me stay here with Nick while you go to the party. Later, we can arrange
shifts.” When Christian assured Jason that he would be able to arrange for Ryan to quietly sit at
Nick’s bedside, even throughout the night, Jay yielded and consented to go to the party that was
actually already in progress.
Throughout the day, Amy had been hoping to have a private word with Jay, but that
proved to be completely impossible. The phones were a non-stop distraction. The media were
all over the story like vultures on a carcass. The police, of course, had their own agenda.
Christian was networking through his old contacts, and calling in some favors owed. Amy
remained silently in the background, though, not for an instant, did she and Jason feel any break
in their connection.
Travis phoned his parents and brought them up to date. Then he spent time making the
rounds between the cabin, the hospital, and the market—replenishing party supplies. Christian
received the necessary permissions so that Travis could relieve Ryan at maintaining a bedside
vigil next to Nick, in the I.C.U. Ordinarily, only family members were allowed, but Christian
convinced the hospital staff that they were Nick’s only family, though not related by blood.
Fortunately, the compassionate nature of the staff put people before paper rules and regulations.
www.TollyBurkan.com
72
It was late in the afternoon when Christian finally began the drive to the cabin, with Janet
up front next to him, and Jason and Amy in the back. Though they still hadn’t had a chance to
speak, Jay and Amy held hands, and Amy placed her head on Jason’s shoulder. The car moved
slowly over the icy roads, and the only one who spoke was Christian. “An old colleague of mine
owes me a favor,” Christian was saying. “Tomorrow we are going to meet him at Caesars
Palace. He’s going to stay there for a couple of days so he can conduct his own preliminary
investigation. Jay, he’s the only one you are to talk to—don’t talk to police, or reporters, or your
friends—about what happened.” Christian’s eyes glanced into the rearview mirror and saw
Jason nod as he said, “’K.”
Jason still was unaware that the other three of his captors were now dead. He had no idea
that The Fatman had made the one call that insured his safety. The people who had stalked him
for the past three years were no longer interested in Jason Wagner. But since Jay had no way of
knowing this, he had an uneasy feeling. He felt sure that sinister forces were still out to get him.
He tried pushing these thoughts from his mind, knowing they couldn’t do any good, and resolved
to discuss the matter with Michael during the night.
What Jay also did not know, was—although foreign interests no longer intended to
pursue him—U.S. agents discovered Jason’s lie to The Fatman. When they were summoned to
assist with the investigation, agents saw the tape where Jay said he knew his father’s formula.
So now, his own government was, at this very moment, constructing its own plot against him.
Although the two thugs remained unidentified, The Fatman, and his home in Sacramento,
quickly became known—once the FBI and CIA were brought in to assist with the dragnet.
Viewing the videotape taken in the cabin, an agent paused the tape, calling to another
man, “Come here and take a look at this.” He rewound a bit of tape and replayed it for his
partner.
It was Jason saying, “Besides, I want my father’s discovery to be known and used.
Otherwise, he died in vain. I thank God he gave me his secret and I thank God you’re here to
see that it gets used—because we both know that our government had plans to keep it under
wraps.”
The man who had discovered the tape said, “The boy knew all along.”
Back at the hospital, Ryan sat quietly next to Nick, reading magazines he had bought for
this purpose. Occasionally Nick moaned, but he never opened his eyes, and his condition was
still listed as “critical.” Every few hours, Ryan assisted the nurses as Nick needed to be shifted,
adjusted or turned. The staff actually seemed pleased that he was there.
It would be utterly and totally impossible to describe the chaos that erupted when Jason
stepped from Christian’s car. “He’s here. He’s here!” was shouted over and over again, until a
throng surrounded both Jason and the car. Mixed in with the high school crowd, were
photographers and newsmen from many of the media. One cameraman, who boosted himself
onto the roof of Christian’s car, was about to take a zoom shot of Jason from up above, when
Christian yanked him off the car by a pantleg, and said to the amazed fellow who was looking up
www.TollyBurkan.com
73
at him from the snow-covered ground, “Buster, you set one foot on my car again and you’re
going to wish you had never come to Tahoe.” He cast a menacing glance at the man, who
sheepishly gathered his equipment from the snow and slinked away.
Jay was hoisted aloft onto a sea of shoulders, hands and bobbing heads, which slowly
transported him to the house. Amid the celebrations, shouting and cheers, Janet said to
Christian, “Why don’t you and I go to Caesars for the night?”
“Good idea,” Christian replied. He then noticed Travis’s curly red hair and made his way
over to Ryan’s friend. “Travis, tell Jason that his mother and I will be at Caesars tonight. You
know my cell number. Call if you need us.”
“Yeah, right,” came the reply. Travis raised his arm in Christian’s direction and made a
circular “A-OK” sign with his fingers.
As Christian’s car started pulling away, Janet expressed her reservations, “Christian,
there’s no adult there. Do you think they need a note from me?”
“If there’s any problem, we’ll get a call. There’s at least a hundred cell phones there, and
both Jason and Travis know how to reach us.”
“What about those media people?” Janet added.
“Jason knows not to speak with them. Consider all those teens back there as Jason’s
personal bodyguards. If he says he doesn’t want to talk to the newsmen, I am sure those kids
will make it quite impossible for the media to get anywhere near him.”
Neither Janet nor Christian knew about cold fusion and the motive behind the
kidnapping. The simple question, “Why?” had still gone unanswered. It hadn’t occurred to
either of them that Jason himself would know why he had been kidnapped. His escape was so
quick, most had just assumed a ransom demand would eventually be forthcoming, even if not yet
received. Perhaps it was the unanswered questions still plaguing her that caused Janet to feel a
remnant of uneasiness. Perhaps it was just motherly concern; she really didn’t like leaving her
eldest son so soon after his return. But Christian reassured her, and reminded her that he was a
teenager—and that had to be respected. Sometimes, teenagers had to be allowed to enjoy being
teenagers.
Christian and Janet booked adjoining rooms at Caesars, and, after each had showered and
changed into some clothes that had been hastily grabbed when they left Berkeley, they went to
the bar and ordered wine. They had each been thinking about the events of the past day, but
hadn’t had time yet to sit down alone together to compare their thoughts and ideas. Since they
still did not know why Jason had been kidnapped, the more they talked, the more they merely
felt like they were spinning their wheels in sand—as they tried to fathom the mystery.
In the hospital, Ryan dozed sitting upright in his chair.
www.TollyBurkan.com
74
At the Wagner house, the party was loud and celebratory. Since the other cabins in the
area were all vacant, no one cared about the volume. Reporters were forbidden to enter; but they
loitered nearby anyhow, seeming to enjoy the sheer happiness emanating from the festivities.
These were good kids. There were no drunken brawls, no audible breakage, and always lots of
singing and laughter.
At four in the morning, the hot-tub was no longer hot, the food and beverages were
completely consumed, and only half the kids were still awake. Giggles and whispers were
tapering off, a few lights had been extinguished, and sleeping bodies covered every square inch
of floor-space and furniture on the first level.
Jason and Amy crept upstairs to find a place they might snuggle together and get some
sleep. They still had not had time to speak—had still not yet had time to be alone—but they
hadn’t left each other’s side all night. “I know a place where we can be alone,” Jason whispered
to Amy as they stumbled down the hall amid wall-to-wall bodies.
“You’re kidding?” she whispered back in disbelief.
Jay led Amy into the master bedroom, already carpeted with sleeping teens. He scooted a
body away from a door, and pulled Amy inside. It was a walk-in closet, almost the size of a
small bedroom—and it was completely uninhabited. Jay flipped on a light and motioned for
Amy to be very quiet, by putting his finger in front of his lips. He then slid aside his mother's
dresses, and there, behind the hanging clothes, was a folded futon and pillows. After Jay had
made the improvised bed for Nick, he remembered the futon stored here for guests, but didn’t
want to again move the stricken man.
As Jason prepared a bed for himself and Amy, Travis was downstairs, covering the hottub, switching off the lights, locking the doors against the prowling media, checking window
locks, and busied himself being “Mister Responsibility.” When he was convinced that all was
secure, he looked at his watch and set the alarm. “I can get two hours of shut-eye before I have
to relieve Ryan,” he thought, then slithered under a couch and fell asleep.
Jason reached up and pushed against the attic-access door that was located in the ceiling
of the large closet. “I just want to be sure we have some air in here,” he explained. “I’ll just
crack it a bit, not enough to let in the cold.”
“Won’t bats get in?” Amy wondered aloud.
“Nah,” said Jason, but he almost hoped that they would.
For blankets, Jay found a flannel sheet folded on a shelf, and also his mother’s woolen
cape. He turned off the light, and he and Amy snuggled together in their secret boudoir. It was
the first time they had ever been alone together... ever! Though it was unfamiliar, it was not
uncomfortable.
www.TollyBurkan.com
75
Amy whispered in Jay’s ear, “Is it true what my brother told me? He said when he and
Ryan walked in, you and Nick were sleeping together naked, sort of entwined.”
“Yeah,” Jay confessed without shame. “We had to stay warm; Nick’s life depended on it.
It must be a funny thing to imagine.”
“Let’s not imagine it,” Amy said. “Let’s just do it.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
76
Chapter Nineteen: Jason’s Soul Mate
Jason was perplexed when he slid past the doorway of sleep and Michael was not to be
found. Of course there were bats fluttering everywhere, but these he had already taken for
granted. The sight of the bats always reassured him that he was safe and protected, but he craved
Michael at the moment, because he needed the dragon’s advice. He stroked his beard and
contemplated his next move.
“Beard?” Jason asked himself as he discovered his own goatee. “Why am I growing so
much older—so fast?” he pondered, as he glanced at his reflection in a shiny surface nearby.
When he called for Michael and got no response, he shrugged, and decided to just enjoy the
wonderful sensation of being close to Amy. It would be much later that Michael would explain
his disappearance. “It’s a code among white dragons,” he’d say. “We always make ourselves
scarce the first time our protege spends a night with his soul mate.”
“What the––?” Jason reacted, when he heard Michael say this. “I’m too young...” he was
about to protest.
“Your mother was still in high school when she realized that Mick was her soul mate,”
the dragon reminded the boy. “Age is never a factor in these matters Jason.”
Promptly at seven, Tuesday morning, Travis appeared at the hospital. As he approached
the I.C.U., he noticed a uniformed guard seated by the door. When he advanced closer, the
policeman looked at him and said, “You must be Travis Cutler.”
“Yes,” Travis replied. The officer made a notation in what appeared to be a log-book,
glanced at his watch, entered the time, and allowed Travis to enter. Ryan was sitting next to
Nick’s bed, a bit bleary-eyed, but awake.
“Any change?” Travis whispered in Ryan’s ear. Ryan didn’t answer verbally, but shook
his head “no.” Then Ryan whispered in his friend’s ear, “Jason will relieve you at seven
tonight,” and he left the room.
The plan was for the three boys to each take a 12-hour shift at Nick’s bedside.
During the days that followed, Nick’s condition stabilized. He remained unconscious,
but was down-graded from “critical” to “serious,” and was moved from the I.C.U. to a private
room, guarded, of course, 24 hours a day by a uniformed policeman who sat just outside the
door. Jason and Ryan refused to consider returning to school until Nick was released from the
hospital. When Travis’s parents objected to him remaining in Tahoe, and missing so much
school, he threatened to drop out and take the GED instead of completing high school. They
quickly relented. Amy, on the other hand, returned to Berkeley.
When Jason or Ryan kept vigil with Nick, they never spoke to the lifeless man. Each
brought magazines and read. During the night, sometimes they would sleep. However, when
Travis sat with Nick, night or day, he talked to him non-stop. “Heya Dude, it’s me, Travis,” he’d
www.TollyBurkan.com
77
begin. He would then start talking to the comatose man as if they were sitting at a table playing
cards.
These one-sided conversations were actually therapeutic for Travis. He had never
opened-up to anyone before—had never shared his innermost feelings and thoughts. If he had,
then perhaps he would not have come so close to attempting suicide. Here, however, in the room
with Nick, he felt no hesitation about spilling his guts. Some days he even cried as he told Nick
about his loneliness, his depression, his confusion, his anxiety and fears. “Sometimes I just feel
that life really sucks,” Travis lamented at one point. “And Nick, here’s something I haven’t told
anyone, it’s probably the reason I’m so miserable...” Travis hesitated. The words were too
difficult for him to say aloud. Finally, he mumbled in despair, “Nick—I’m gay.”
Janet and Christian remained at Caesars, though no longer in adjoining rooms. The three
boys used the cabin, but the cabin was too far from Caesars, and that’s where Christian’s P.I.
friend had set up his base of operations. Christian felt it best to stay near the private investigator
as the mystery was being explored. His friend, whose name was Barney, told Christian, “It’s
extremely odd to see FBI and CIA working on this case the way they are. I have a feeling there
is more here than meets the eye, but I haven’t yet been able to figure it out.” Jay still hadn’t told
Barney, or anyone else, about cold fusion.
Barney had been a private investigator for more years than anyone could remember; and
he was as good as they come. He had many contacts in all branches of government, and though
he was still ignorant of some aspects in this case, he assured Christian that it was only a matter of
time before he uncovered the unknown facts. One thing he knew for sure: Nick was going to be
crucified. He was the scapegoat. No one else was alive, so the full wrath of the prosecution was
going to be focused on Nick.
Because Christian did not know all the details, it was difficult for him to feel compassion
for Nick. On one hand, he had come to know the boy as a friend, and truly enjoyed his company.
He was a friend who almost felt like family sometimes. But on the other hand, he had indeed
kidnapped Jason, and may have even jeopardized Jay’s life. Christian considered phoning a
prominent criminal attorney who owed Christian more than a few favors; but he decided to wait
until Nick regained consciousness, so he could at least hear what the lad had to say for himself.
On Friday afternoon, five days after being admitted to the hospital, Nick suddenly opened
his eyes without any warning. It was on Jason’s shift. At first, Jason heard a moan, so he stood
up and surveyed the frail-looking form of the man who had kidnapped him only one week ago on
this very day. “You’re looking rather scruffy Nick,” Jason said. “I’m going to get a razor and
give you a shave.” As he was looking directly at Nick’s face, Nick’s eyelids fluttered for a few
brief seconds, and then he opened his eyes.
A very stunned Jason merely said, “Nick.”
Nick didn’t move, but he scanned the room with his eyes. Then his eyes focused on
Jason. No words passed between them, but Jason imagined that Nick was trying to say
something with his eyes—he seemed to be saying, “I’m sorry Jason. I’m so very, very sorry.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
78
Jason pushed the call button to summon a nurse. When the nurse entered, Jason was
surprised that the nurse wasn’t surprised by Nick regaining consciousness. “Well it’s nice to see
you awake,” she said matter-of-factly. “I was expecting you to wake up yesterday actually.
Your vital signs have been really strong.” The nurse checked the needles, wires and tubes that
were still connecting Nick to bags of liquids, beeping screens, and bedside gadgets. She then
adjusted him on the mattrace and was preparing to leave when Jay asked, “Can I get a razor and
give him a shave?”
“Certainly. I’ll bring you a basin, a razor and some cream.”
Nick tried to speak, but was not successful in his attempt. “Later,” Jason told him.
However, Jason was thinking, “But not too much later.” The reason he had not spoken
candidly to anyone, especially about cold fusion and the motive behind his kidnapping, was
because he was waiting to first speak with Nick. He had his own questions that he wanted
answered, and Nick was the only source for this information. By now, Jason knew the other men
were all dead. It had been in the news reports and papers during the week. But Jason still kept
looking over his shoulder. He couldn’t be sure that new agents weren’t stepping in to fill the
vacancies left by the old.
Ryan and Travis spent many hours together at the cabin. It was Friday when Ryan said to
Travis, “Dude, you look really different. I can’t tell what it is, but something’s changed about
you.”
“Yeah. I feel really different. This has been an amazing week. You know Ryan,” he
paused, “this is the first time in my life that I ever thought someone else’s needs were greater
than my own. Up until this week, I have been one self-centered jerk. I learned more about
myself in this one week, than I learned in the last 17 years... and that’s not bullshit!”
Ryan had never heard his friend talk this way. Travis never revealed his feelings... never!
“Well Dude, what can I say?” was Ryan’s only response.
There was an uneasy silence, and Travis was about to change the subject, when Ryan
said, “You know Dude, you’ve been a great friend this week. You did some amazing things—
like organizing the posters last week, then the way you took care of the house for us when all
those kids were here—and the way you cleaned up for us, and refilled the hot-tub—man, you’ve
just been so awesome.”
Another long silence ensued. Ryan then thought to add, “Oh yeah, and the way you’ve
helped us with Nick...”
Travis interrupted, “Dude, that’s the best part. I mean, when I’m hanging with Nick, I
feel really good. He’s so helpless. He looks so pathetic with all those tubes in him. When I’m
there, I sort of appreciate my own life more—if that makes any sense?”
www.TollyBurkan.com
79
The conversation between the two friends might have continued, but a cell phone
chirped, and both boys automatically reached for their pockets. It was Christian calling Ryan.
“Nick’s regained consciousness. Meet us at the hospital.”
By the time everyone—Jason, Janet, Christian, Ryan and Travis—had assembled in
Nick’s room, he was sleeping. Just sleeping. He was no longer in a coma. While he slept, the
five spoke in whispers and held a conference. Janet informed Ryan that he had to return to
school on Monday. Travis relayed that Amy was coming up Friday night and planned to stay for
the weekend; and that he’d return to Berkeley with his sister on Sunday night. Janet decided she
would accompany her youngest son, while Christian and Jason remained undecided about their
exact plans.
The change in Nick’s condition was rapid and dramatic. The next time he opened his
eyes, he seemed more lucid, and even spoke. “I’m hungry,” were his first intelligible words,
though barely audible. Jason was there at the time and summoned a nurse; informing her of
Nick’s request for food. The nurse consulted Nick’s chart and announced that ice chips and
sherbet were the only things he could have by mouth. Jason volunteered to feed him, and the
nurse left to retrieve Nick’s meal.
After eating, meager though it was, Nick looked infinitely better. Now shaved, and fed,
he appeared to have more color in his face and was even moving a little bit in his bed. He again
tried to speak. It was an obvious effort, but he asked Jason to sit close.
“Jay, I have to talk to you,” he managed to say in a very soft whisper. He was
exceedingly weak, and even the whisper was a strain. Jay moved his ear close to Nick’s lips.
The first thing Nick said was, “Jay I’m sorry. I didn’t know about The Fatman. I didn’t know
you’d be hurt. Honest.”
Jay said, “I believe you.” Then he told Nick that The Fatman was dead. Nick seemed
relieved to hear that and appeared to relax a little. Then Nick began a whispered monologue,
telling Jason every detail of the entire escapade—all the way back to 1996. It was obviously
exhausting Nick to relate all this to Jason in his depleted condition, but there was an urgency in
his voice. He needed to unburden himself. Jason found it hard to hear his every word, since the
weakened man’s voice kept fading; but he heard most of what Nick told him. It was actually
fortunate that Nick’s voice was barely audible, because the hidden bug was unable to record any
of what was spoken.
At seven, Travis entered the room with his sister. Amy and Jason kissed, then departed
holding hands. Travis glanced at the now-sleeping Nick, and took a seat. At about eight, Nick
opened his eyes, turned his head and looked at Travis. He whispered, “I’m gay too.”
Travis was thunderstruck. His jaw dropped open, but he was unable to speak. Finally, he
said, at first in a loud voice, then in a shocked whisper, “YOU MEAN—you mean, you heard
everything I was saying when I was going on and on these past days?”
www.TollyBurkan.com
80
Nick nodded affirmatively. Travis wasn’t yet sure how he felt about that. However, his
thoughts were interrupted by a nurse entering with sherbet and ice chips. She checked the
bedside instruments and then asked Travis if he wanted to feed Nick. “Sure,” he responded.
As he spooned food into Nick, he whispered non-stop—with both angst and relief that he
now had a confidante.
Before Ryan arrived at seven the next morning, Travis and Nick had managed quite a
voluminous exchange—whispered to each other in the other’s ear.
With Travis at the hospital, Jason sleeping with Amy, and his mom constantly with
Christian, Ryan felt like a fifth wheel. Without too much regret, he headed to the video arcade at
Caesars hotel, and there, he spent most of the night.
While Ryan blasted aliens with his ray gun, Amy dreamed about her beloved, snuggling
closer as she slept, and Jason rode atop his dragon, heading for Michael’s etheric, white abode.
Once there, Michael addressed the man with the graying hair and long beard, who was Jason,
“Did you know that both Nick and Travis are gay?”
“Nick’s gay?” a dumbfounded Jason gasped. “And Travis?”
“It’s been such a dark secret, and such a heavy burden, that Travis was planning to kill
himself,” Michael said. “He is afraid that his parents’ Christian beliefs will cause them to
disown him if they find out. Right now, he and Nick are offering each other support. But Jay,
Nick is going to jail soon, so Travis will have no one to lean on. His state of mind is not so
strong that he doesn’t need support. You could provide an ear for Travis. You can serve him.”
“I’m not a therapist,” Jason protested.
“He doesn’t need a therapist Jay. He’s not sick. He just needs an understanding friend.
He’s too shy to confide in Ryan. Trust me.” Michael then said, “Grab this!” and sent Jason a
direct transmission. It made the boy smile, and he nodded with comprehension.
“Michael, how long is Nick going to be in jail?” Jason inquired.
“That depends on you, Jay.” Michael followed his comment with—“Grab this!”—and
another direct transmission.
www.TollyBurkan.com
81
Chapter Twenty: The Young Wizard
Noticing his reflection, Jason said to Michael, “At night, I’m becoming an old man.”
“That’s because you’re a fast learner,” Michael replied. “Besides, you’re not an old man,
Jason, but a young wizard.”
Jason blinked a few times after Michael gave him this information. As he slept, Amy
again snuggled closer, and Jason asked Michael to return him to Tahoe. The white dragon
chuckled and shook his head, “For a young wizard, sometimes you’re a slow learner—you never
left!”
Jason opened his eyes. Amy’s familiar fragrance was right there, her head was on his
shoulder, her long hair draped across his chest. He smiled, drew a deep, slow breath, and
cuddled closer as he again closed his eyes.
When the sun had been up for an hour, Amy and Jason tumbled from bed. The old
adage—the way to a young wizard’s heart is through his stomach—certainly held sway with
Jason. Amy brought all the fixings for a sumptuous breakfast: eggs, milk, pancake batter,
sausages, 9-grain bread, whipped butter, maple syrup, and some pastries for dessert. Jay didn’t
have much to tell Amy over breakfast, as they had been in constant phone contact throughout the
week. So the two teens ate in silence; each one specifically appreciating that the usual teen
banter wasn’t necessary between them.
Nick’s improvement was rapid and dramatic throughout the weekend. By Sunday
evening, when all but Christian and Jason had departed for Berkeley, Nick was actually able to
feed himself small amounts of pureed food.
On Monday morning, Christian and Jason entered Nick’s room. “I’m blown away by
how good you look this morning, Nick,” Jay said by way of a greeting.
“Yeah,” said Nick, “I’m going jogging this afternoon. Wanna go boarding with me
tomorrow morning?”
Everyone smiled. Nick was obviously on the mend; his sense of humor had already
healed.
The visitors pulled chairs close to the bed.
everything Nick—everything!”
Christian began, “Jason has told me
Nick was no longer smiling. Christian continued, “Nick, I can’t condone what you’ve
done. I know you understand what could have happened, so I’m not going to belabor anything in
that area. We all like you Nick. We may not fully understand your motives, but Confucius said
‘sometimes even a monkey can fall from a tree,’ so we intend to help you as best we can.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
82
Christian’s voice was soft and his manner was fatherly. A single tear ran from Nick’s left
eye and slid over his cheek. He made no attempt to brush it away, and he said nothing.
Though the hidden bug was working well, it never recorded anything that could be
helpful to the listeners. Monday’s conversations were vague, even though no one was aware of
the concealed listening device; and the frustrated authorities learned nothing of value.
“Nick, a very prominent lawyer owes me a favor. He is going to represent you, when the
time comes. That won’t be too much longer, I’m afraid,” Christian shook his head as he
informed the patient of the arrangements he had already made.
Nick, though not fully intact physically, had all his mental acuity about him. He totally
grasped his situation, and was moved beyond words by the generosity of all these people—who
should have been reviling him. He lay in his bed, silent, overwhelmed with gratitude and
appreciation. With his own parents overseas, having disowned him years before—declaring him
“dead”—when they learned he was gay, this was as close as he had come to experiencing a sense
of a caring family... in many, many years. He felt both unworthiness and astonishment at his
unanticipated, incredible good fortune.
As Christian and Jason visited with Nick, a doctor entered the room with Nick’s chart in
hand. The doctor seemed pleased when he observed Nick’s radically improved demeanor.
“Morning Doc. My friend and I were just making plans to go snowboarding tomorrow,”
Nick said.
“Really?” replied the young doctor. “Tomorrow’s my day off, I think I’ll join you.”
The levity was a sharp contrast to the reality of the situation. A policeman, stationed at
the door, was a constant reminder to all who entered: Nick is in deep shit!
When Christian asked the doctor when Nick could be moved, the physician explained,
“We are not in any hurry. Of course the cops want to move him as soon as possible, but we are
going to keep him here for at least another week.” Nick was examined, his vital signs checked,
and the doctor left the room.
Christian said, “My friend is arriving soon. We’ll come by this afternoon.”
After a few more minutes of unimportant conversation, Christian and Jason departed,
leaving Nick alone with his thoughts. “He’s starting to look like the old Nick,” Jason was saying
as he and Christian left the hospital. “Christian, you have no idea what he looked like when I
found him—he was literally blue!”
On the way to Caesars, Christian and Jason discussed Nick’s situation. They also
discussed Jason’s own situation, as Jay had finally confided in Christian and told him about cold
fusion. As the two of them drove back to Christian’s hotel, Christian decided it was time to blow
www.TollyBurkan.com
83
the whistle and let everyone know that Mick was working when he died. He resolved to have his
attorney friend handle that aspect of the case as well.
When they arrived at Caesars, Christian’s friend was already waiting for them. “Jim, I’d
like you to meet Jason Wagner,” Christian said by way of introduction. “I’d recognize you
anywhere,” the lawyer said, shaking Jay’s hand. “Your picture has been in newspapers and on
TV for the better part of a week.”
Jim Baxter was an imposing man. He stood six feet, five inches tall, had a full shock of
wavy, white hair, and exuded an air of confidence that in itself was a bit intimidating. He
suggested that the three of them have a meeting upstairs in his room, and then have lunch, before
going to the hospital to meet his client.
At the meeting, Jason did most of the talking. Christian had instructed the youth to be
completely open with Jim—it was the only way that his friend could really help Nick. Jim was
impressed by Jason’s presentation, which was both articulate and insightful. When the meeting
was almost over, Jim commented, “I must say, you seem to have a very old soul for such a young
man. I keep forgetting that I am speaking with a 17-year-old.”
“Thank you Mr. Baxter,” was Jason’s only reply.
After lunch, the three men headed straight for the hospital. Jay first became anxious
when he noticed bats fluttering around a window—Nick’s window. When they walked down the
hall, Jason’s next premonition came at the sight of something that was missing, rather than
present. There was no policeman by Nick’s door. When they opened the door, and found the
room empty, Jason’s heart skipped a beat.
www.TollyBurkan.com
84
Chapter Twenty-one: James Baxter, Attorney at Law
The familiar doctor entered on their heels. “I protested this. I insisted that he was not
ready to be moved.”
“Where is he?” Jason was the first to respond.
“I honestly don’t know. A cadre of uniformed men, and others in plain dark suits, simply
shoved papers at us, and had their own doctors load him into a private ambulance.”
Jim Baxter said with authority, “Show me the papers.”
When the doctor hesitated, Christian looked at him reassuringly. “It’s fine, he’s Nick’s
lawyer.”
At the nurses station, papers were retrieved and handed to Jim. He only glanced at them
for a brief moment before he announced, “They arrested him.”
“Where did they take him?” Jason implored.
“It doesn’t say, but that will be easy to find out,” the attorney shrugged. Then the three
of them left.
Christian drove Jason back to Berkeley, Jim met with Barney, the private investigator,
and it was agreed that Jim would hold a meeting in his San Francisco office the following day,
Tuesday, at four o’clock.
During the ride back to Berkeley, Christian tried to reassure Jason. “James Baxter is the
best, Jay. If anyone can help Nick, it will be Jim.” Christian noticed that Jason seemed far more
composed than he would have expected from a teenage boy. For the most part, Jason remained
silent while the car sped west along Route 80.
After considerable time spent in thought, Jason said, “Nick isn’t a bad person. He just
made some bad choices.” Christian was impressed by the boy’s uncanny wisdom.
“If you cooperate with us, things will go a lot easier,” said the plainclothesman looking
down on Nick.
Nick’s room looked like any other hospital room in the United States, except for the fact
that there were now bars on the window. “Sir,” he said softly, “I choose to invoke my Fifth
Amendment right to remain silent, since anything I say may be used to incriminate me in a court
of law." People’s Planet had indoctrinated him about self-incrimination.
Teen cell phones were chirping all through Monday in Berkeley, California. When
Travis first learned that Nick had disappeared from the hospital and was now a prisoner himself,
www.TollyBurkan.com
85
he almost panicked. He was the first to greet Jay when Christian’s car pulled into the driveway
of the Wagners’ house. He had been waiting for almost an hour.
“Dude, is it true that they kidnapped Nick?”
Ryan, who heard the car and came from the house, said, “Don’t be lame Trav. The Dude
isn’t kidnapped—he’s arrested. We know where he is. Don’t we?” he asked his brother with a
quizzical glance.
“Well, he’s in jail I s’pose. But I don’t know where.”
“Can I visit him?” Travis blurted out, and seemed visibly shaken.
“Yeah right,” Ryan teased, “no one knows where he is and you’re going to visit him.
Dude, get real.”
“Look Rin, we’re all—strung out. Lighten up,” Jason chided.
At home, there, with his peers, Christian noticed how quickly the old soul again
conformed to stereotypes of a typical teenage boy. Jason threw an arm over Travis’s shoulder,
and everyone went into the house. Mrs. Wagner announced, “Jason, I made all your favorites for
dinner. After all, this is a very special homecoming.” She was suddenly moved by a wave of
emotion and embraced Jay with a grip more like that of a wrestling champ, than that of a mother;
she tried not to cry.
In the middle of dinner, the wall phone rang and Ryan left to answer it. “It’s Mr. Baxter
for Christian.” Christian retrieved the phone from Ryan and listened without speaking. Before
hanging up the phone, he said, “Okay then, we’ll see you tomorrow at four.”
As Christian returned to his seat at the table, four pairs of expectant eyes followed him.
“All he said was that he knows where Nick is. Nothing sinister has happened to him and he’s
apparently okay. He’s just been taken to a secure facility, and is getting all the necessary
medical care.”
When dinner was finished and the dishes were being removed to the kitchen, Amy
arrived. She greeted Jay with a hug and a kiss, and then the two of them retired to the Batcave
upstairs. Jay had not been in his room since his abduction ten days before. He was thus
humorously surprised to see that Amy had taken the liberty of adding a dozen different pictures
of Batman to walls and shelves around the room.
“Is there any news I don’t know about?” Amy asked.
“Well yes,” Jason said, and brought his new girlfriend up to date.
The remainder of the evening was uneventful, and at nine o’clock, Amy and her brother
left for their own home. At ten, Christian wrestled with a decision—whether he too would return
www.TollyBurkan.com
86
to his own house, or spend the night with Janet. She quickly, and easily, persuaded him not to
leave. Jason and Ryan each understood the shift in their mother’s relationship with Christian,
and both, separately and without comparing notes, heartily approved. It was the first time since
Mick died that Janet had shown any interest in another man.
When Jason finally went to sleep in his own bed, Michael appeared—barely five minutes
after Jay’s head hit the pillow. “You’re looking good,” the dragon smiled. Jay didn’t need to see
his own reflection to be aware of how the wind was playing with his long hair, and long beard,
both now smoky-gray in color.
“How about paying Travis a visit tonight?” Michael suggested.
“I don’t think so,” Jay said flatly. “I like the idea of staying in my own bed.”
Michael laughed. “You’re a wizard, you don’t have to leave your bed to visit with
Travis. And remember, he’ll never know that it is you. You don’t look like the Jason he’s
familiar with.”
“How do I find him?”
“Just follow the bats.”
“What should I say to him?”
“Just be silent and look within. That’s all you have to do to access your inner wisdom.
When the time comes, you’ll know exactly what’s appropriate to say... or not say.”
Jason looked up and saw the bats circling his head. He bent his knees, gave a little spring
to his bounce, and shot upward, through the circling bats—like an arrow piercing a bullseye—
and then followed them as they reformed and soared upward as well. When he first spotted
Travis, the boy was sleeping soundly in his bed. For a moment, Jason thought about looking in
on Amy, but quickly remembered that he had a job to do.
“How’s it going?” he began. Travis was not surprised. After all, no one finds it odd
when they meet a wizard—in a dream. “’K,” was all he said with a shrug.
In no time, the two were deep in conversation, for in this realm, time was an irrelevant
factor. “You have to be true to yourself,” the wizard was saying. “You have to accept who you
are, and know that everything you are experiencing is a necessary part of your emotional and
psychological growth. The future has wonderful things in store for you young man.”
At another point in the dialogue, Travis complained, “Sometimes it feels like people are
allergic to me.”
Jason laughed, “You can be a perfect peach, and I guarantee you, there will always be
people who are allergic to peaches. Maybe you should hang with a different crowd.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
87
The night wore on, and Jason discovered that he was able to literally walk around
Travis’s brain, like a sight-seer exploring alleyways in a new and unfamiliar city. He not only
learned more about Travis, he also learned a great deal about how the human psyche works—
especially during adolescence. Travis seemed quite open to Jason’s many insights, suggestions
and comments, which made the wizard feel very satisfied—and Jason soon decided he really
enjoyed playing this role.
James Baxter’s secretary had been expecting them, so when Christian, Janet and Jason
arrived for their four o’clock meeting, they were ushered right into Jim’s inner office. Christian
shook Jim’s hand and introduced him to Jason’s mother. After a brief “howdy do,” Jim shook
Jason’s hand and the meeting commenced.
“Well, I suppose the most important news I have for you is that I’ve seen Nick.” This
comment provoked a marked reaction in all the others. But before anyone could interrupt, Jim
continued. “I am now officially Nick’s lawyer. When I was allowed to see him, he remained
very suspicious. So far, all he’s done is plead the Fifth. When I tried to get him to speak a bit
with me, he adamantly refused. He’s scared—and I don’t blame him. Also, though it is highly
improper, he suspects, I’m sure, that his room might be bugged. And it very well might be.”
Jason asked, “Can he have visitors?”
“I was just getting to that. Technically, the answer is yes. However, medically, visits are
restricted by doctor’s orders.”
When Jim saw the disappointment on everyone’s face, he quickly added this consolation,
“The doctor just wants Nick to have a few days to get adjusted. From what I understand, he’ll be
allowed to have visitors by the weekend.”
The attorney’s face became grave. “This is not going to be an easy case. I’ll be able to
get some of the charges dropped almost immediately. From what Jason’s told me, there’s no
grounds for lewd and lascivious behavior, and the child porn charge is really just a joke. It will
be a challenge, but I think I can also get the charge dropped for conspiracy to commit murder.
But the kidnapping and false imprisonment charges are going to stick.”
“Doesn’t it count that Nick saved my life?” Jason asked.
“He didn’t save your life.”
“Well he called my mother—instead of thinking about himself and calling 911.”
“I’ll certainly point that out to the jury, but it will not influence the prosecutor at all.
Besides, that call didn’t save your life.”
“Of course it did,” Jay said. “If Nick didn’t call, then Ryan might not have come up—
and when the firewood ran out, I would have frozen to death.” When he saw Jim shake his head
www.TollyBurkan.com
88
and make a face that indicated this logic wouldn’t work, he jumped right in with, “besides, Nick
smuggled me the key.”
“We can’t prove that.”
“I’ll bet his fingerprints are on the foil the key was wrapped in. It’s probably still in the
pocket of the pants I was wearing that day. I’m not sure where they are, but I’ll find them.”
“Jason, I don’t mean to sound pessimistic, but there are obviously opportunities for
someone to have taken any old piece of foil and to get Nick to lay a fingerprint on it. The D.A.
will be able to disqualify that without much effort at all.”
Jason’s face fell. Jim then went on to say, “As I see it, and this is based on what Barney
has also been able to provide, the government has a vested interest in making an example of
Nick. People’s Planet employs terrorism, and that’s one front where the government feels it is
most vulnerable. It cannot permit the appearance that it is lax on terrorism—not for a moment.
The government wants nothing better than to wipe-out groups such as the Weathermen and
People’s Planet. They barely tolerate Green Peace.”
The white-haired attorney again shook his head. “Frankly, the CIA and the FBI have
unearthed a gold mine of evidence, between the Tahoe cabin where Jason was imprisoned, and a
related house in Sacramento. I doubt if anyone will be hearing about People’s Planet for a long
time, if ever again. Once it was realized that much of their sensitive information had been
uncovered, all the key players disappeared into the underground. If Nick had any friends in that
organization, they aren’t about to step forward and offer help. I’m going to do my best to defend
him, out of my long-held feelings of respect for you Christian, but it could very well turn out that
Nick may spend the rest of his life behind bars.”
James Baxter painted a bleak picture. There was a long silence; then, Christian and Janet
changed the subject and asked Jim a few questions about how insurance coverage CAL carries
for its employees would affect Janet, now that Christian reported Mick was actually working
when he was killed. As they talked, Jason ventured off into memories of things that Michael had
told him. He remembered Michael saying, “You are the one who will actually be saving Nick’s
life.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
89
Chapter Twenty-two: The Batcave
Over the next weeks, Nick recovered sufficiently to be moved from the medical facility
and mixed in with the general inmate population. His most frequent visitor was Travis Cutler,
who, though he was only an acquaintance before the kidnapping, had now become a close and
loyal friend. Travis could only visit on weekends, but he wrote to Nick every single day—
usually confiding his deepest personal feelings, that he had never dared sharing with anyone else
before. Many of his letters referred to strange and wonderful dreams that contained visits from a
wise and compassionate old wizard.
Christian had felt, and rightly so, that the timing of his whistle-blowing would prevent
anything from happening to the Wagners. They were too much in the limelight—too much in
the eye of the media. He was called to a hearing, and with Baxter by his side, he told of how he
had been intimidated by men who arrived at the accident scene within moments of the initial
explosion. In retrospect, he said, “Obviously they were already there—specifically to spy on us.
How else could those people have been the first on the scene?”
James Baxter, whose reputation as a tenacious fighter in the courtroom was legendary,
pointed out that although the statute of limitations would ordinarily prevent a claim at this late
date, he was intending to expose fraud, and a criminal cover-up on the part of the university and
the government, making the university, their insurance company, and the government all liable—
not only for paying claims to which the Wagners were legally entitled, but punitive damages as
well. The hearing lasted several hours.
Jim was fully prepared to go to court, even welcomed it; but the case settled within a
week and Janet promptly received a check for five million dollars.
Jason, of course, returned to school and resumed the role of a high school senior.
However, he dropped-out of Tae Kwon Do and resigned from the gymnastics team. He no
longer had time for those extracurricular activities—now that other things were distracting him.
He wrote an occasional letter to Nick, and visited him only sporadically; he did the minimum
required to maintain his GPA at school; and spoke from time-to-time with investigators. He
stopped socializing with his friends; and everyone began to surmise that it was Amy consuming
all his time. Everyone knew this kind of thing happened to boys once they had a girlfriend.
However, though he saw Amy every day, she was not the focus of his attention. His
focus—their focus—was the experiment Jay was conducting in his room at home—now dubbed
“The Batcave.” With Amy as his lab assistant, Jay was attempting to replicate his father’s
research.
“I wish Christian had been more attentive when he was out on the boat with my father,”
he complained to Amy one afternoon. “He can’t even remember what my dad’s equipment
looked like. As much as I’ve been able to learn from compiling my dad’s books, papers and
notes, I haven’t found any hardware. I am not even sure where to go at this point?”
www.TollyBurkan.com
90
“Didn’t you say that a lot of your insights come to you during the night? I’m sure it’s
still too early in the game to start feeling discouraged.”
Amy, the perpetual optimist, was a soothing balm for Jay’s own self-doubts. In fact,
since they had been seeing each other so regularly, Jason hadn’t once sensed the large, dark
shape that used to haunt the periphery of his dreams. Her positive energy apparently sustained
him even while he slept. Also, during experiments and research, though Amy couldn’t see them,
Jay was always encouraged when he would look up, in moments of frustration or despair, and
notice bats swirling above.
Ryan saw less and less of his curly-haired, red-headed friend; and though the brothers
lived under the same roof, he saw even less of Jason. When at home, Jay ate his meals in the
Batcave. If Ryan knocked on the door, he predictably heard, “Not now Rin, I’m busy.” Since
Ryan knew that Amy was usually also behind the closed door, he never was bold enough to open
it—afraid that he would discover the young lovers in a situation that would only embarrass them
all.
Ryan was aware of the changes in his sphere of familiarity, but he wasn’t concerned. He
had plenty of friends—and besides, Janet had just bought him his own car. “Far out! A Mazda
Miata,” was his response when he found the brand new car waiting for him one afternoon when
he came home from school. Janet loved being able to now afford presents for her sons.
Although Christian was retired, he spent many hours each week assisting James Baxter
with Nick’s case. Barney’s investigation had provided pictures of an entangled web involving
conspiracies within conspiracies. Christian found it a fascinating adventure delving into the
discoveries Barney had uncovered. For example, The Fatman—whose name was Dr. Maxwell
Houston—had received money from sources that revealed his services were not only used by
criminal elements, but governments as well. If the Feds were determined to make Nick a
scapegoat, a messy can of worms would be opened publicly in court.
One night, as the now white-haired wizard was soaring over the clouds astride the neck of
the dragon, Michael said, “Let’s pay a visit to Stephen Hawking.”
“Stephen Hawking!” This was Jason’s hero. The crippled physicist who suffered from
Lou Gehrig’s Disease, was an inspiration to everyone in and out of the scientific community.
Though unable to move or speak, the brilliant scientist used technological breakthroughs in
medicine and telecommunications to lecture and write books.
“I think you need to pick his brain,” Michael informed the wizard.
When the dragon anticipated that Jay was about to argue that Dr. Hawking was too
disabled for a meaningful exchange, Michael reminded Jason that the famous scientist was only
disabled by day. “You know how you’ve walked around inside Travis’s head during the night,
well now you will do the same with Stephen Hawking.”
“I feel like maybe we’re trespassing, Michael.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
91
“Jay, you never felt like you were trespassing when you explored Travis’s mind—why
now?”
“Because my intention with Travis has been to help him. With Dr. Hawking, I feel more
like a spy trying to discover information.”
“Jason, Dr. Hawking has no secrets. He exists to serve humanity. Everything that’s in
his mind is freely shared for the benefit of the entire planet. All I want you to do is borrow some
of his ideas, then marry them to the ideas your father had, and let’s see what you yourself can
create from this raw data.”
When Jason approached the revered physicist, he was rather astonished to find that he
was expected. Dr. Hawking himself was astride his own white dragon, and soon, they were all
airborne. Jason and the Doctor conversed, while the two dragons flew close together in a tight
formation.
“My God!” Jason exclaimed. “I never heard or read anything like that before.”
“Well,” Dr. Hawking said, without effort and with perfectly formed words, “I haven’t yet
published these concepts. This is the leading-edge of my own current research.” The two
scientists reveled in each other’s company, delighted to find another mind capable of
understanding the far-reaching strands of thought that connected each of them, and both of them,
to a higher power.
By morning, once the duo had separated, Jay was electrified with new information. Also,
he was completely awed by Stephen Hawking—the man himself. He marveled at what this
person had been able to accomplish despite a horrendous infirmity. Without verbal instruction,
Dr. Hawking had taught Jason a lesson he would benefit from for the rest of his life: It’s not what
happens to you, but rather, what you yourself choose to do about it. Over the years, he knew he
would often think back to his encounter with this man, and use it as inspiration to help him
through the inevitable challenges that life always provides.
As the first rays of morning sun hit the Golden Gate Bridge, Jason opened his eyes and
leaped from his bed, going to his desk immediately, and frantically began scribbling notes and
equations over five pages in his journal. He never left the Batcave that day, cutting school, and
forgetting to phone Amy. When Janet knocked on his door to see if he was okay, he replied,
“Mom, I’m more than okay—I’m making a breakthrough. Please—PLEASE—I can’t be
disturbed.”
Inside the Batcave, Jason’s invisible power animal fluttered in circles. Outside, the
government’s invisible buzzards circled as well.
www.TollyBurkan.com
92
Chapter Twenty-three: Valentine’s Day
Nick remained in jail awaiting his trial. Though Jim had tried to get bail reduced from
the unusual, and exorbitant, three million originally set by the judge, his attempts were futile and
completely unsuccessful. It was already mid-February and a trial date had not yet been set.
Jason and Amy had made plans to eat out and see a movie together on Valentine’s Day.
“You have to get used to having a girlfriend now, Jay,” she said. “I’m going to teach you how to
be more romantic.” She knew there would be no resistance. Jay was eager to learn.
There were many federal agents who yearned to know what was going on inside the
Batcave, but it was decided that attempts to bug the Wagner house would be too risky at this
point. However, Jay’s comings and goings were observed—mostly from above by government
satellites. Technology was now so sophisticated, cameras—orbiting the Earth—could accurately
relay the digits of license plates on cars. Spying on Jason was not that difficult; and many eyes
watched them as Jay escorted Amy into Trader Vic’s restaurant in the yacht harbor at
Emeryville.
Looking out over the water, they held hands under the table.
“I love you, Amy.”
Jason had never said those words to a girl before... a young woman—not a girl.
Amy didn’t blush, but she cast her eyes downward, and gave Jason’s hand a squeeze.
The words seemed so unexpected—from Jason, the young scientist who rarely communicated his
emotions. The moment was delicious, but quickly ended when their waiter came up to the table
and began announcing the specials of the day.
They both ordered the salmon, then sat and gazed into each other’s eyes without
speaking. Amy looked particularly beautiful this evening, thought Jay. She had her hair done
up—with large curls on top of her head. It made her look older, and more enticing to his natural
adolescent instincts. Her neck was fully exposed, and adorned only with a single string of pearls.
She wore a pink dress that seemed to make her skin appear whiter and her hair appear darker.
The subtle scent of her perfume excited Jay’s nostrils. “She’s beautiful,” he thought—then said
aloud, “Amy, you are so beautiful.” She smiled.
After dinner, they had about forty-five minutes to kill before the movie started at the
Emery Bay Cineplex. “It’s nippy out, but if you want to take a walk around the marina, I’ll keep
you warm,” Jay assured Amy. “A walk sounds wonderful,” she purred.
The winter sky was clear, and though the city lights dimmed most of the stars, many
shone brightly through the light pollution and twinkled gaily, as if in defiance of the man-made
competition. A chilling breeze came in from the west and caused Amy to shiver. Jason drew her
closer, then enfolded her in his arms and gave her a long, slow, passionate kiss on the mouth. He
could feel her temperature rise as she brought her body even closer to his. “Happy Valentine’s
www.TollyBurkan.com
93
Day,” they both thought to say, at the exact same time, when their lips finally parted. The
coincidence made them both laugh and they continued their walk, arms around each other,
squeezing one another affectionately as they strolled.
Being in love was wonderful!
After the movie, Jay drove his girlfriend home and returned to the Batcave. Tomorrow
was a school day. But though he lay in bed, sleep would not come. Jason floated on a cloud of
his own thoughts. He reflected on what had happened in his life during the last two months. It
was only eight weeks ago that he was working as a stock-boy in a supermarket. “Change
certainly can come without warning,” he mused, smiling. And as he thought of his own life, he
also considered that only a few weeks ago, Travis—who now seemed truly happy and
grounded—was planning to kill himself. “Change certainly can come without warning,” he
thought again.
Jason was learning one of life’s crucial lessons, and perhaps the one lesson that teenagers
need to grasp more than any other: This too shall pass.
“Nice robe,” Michael said as he greeted the White Wizard. Jason looked at his reflection
and realized that the ancient-looking man with the long white hair and snowy beard was now
sporting a luminescent, flowing, white robe. He studied himself for several seconds, then
grinned, nodded his approval, and simply said, “Sweet.”
“Michael,” Jason asked, “how come I look so old, but my body still feels so young?”
“Because you don’t have a body, Jason. Not here at least. What you are mistaking for
your body is really just your own mind and feelings in a form you can see.”
Jason changed the subject by saying, “Michael, I am so frustrated. My research and
experiments are taking me nowhere.”
The dragon pondered to himself for a moment, then said, “White Wizards never
experience frustration. Jason—the boy—the young scientist laboring in his laboratory back at
his Batcave, well THAT Jason may indeed feel frustration. But that is no longer who YOU are.
You are now the White Wizard. You are the witness, and the witness is always patient, merely
observing what goes on upon the Earth-plane.”
“How do I assist Jason with his frustration?” implored the wizard.
“The purpose of life is to be happy—plain and simple. However, everyone takes a
different road toward happiness,” Michael instructed his protege. “What makes Jason happy?”
“Helping others. Others are actually serving Jason when they allow him to serve them.”
The wizard didn’t even need to think about this.
www.TollyBurkan.com
94
“Very well, then remind Jason that he should focus on the fact that he is in the process of
helping Nick—and even though that is his motivation for pursuing this experiment, so he can use
it to barter Nick’s freedom, ultimately, Jay is helping all of humanity.”
The wizard added, “And he is also helping to glorify the memory of his father. After all,
this is just Mick’s lost discovery.”
The white dragon told the new wizard, “When he’s feeling frustrated, it’s because he is
being near-sighted, and has lost the big picture. In those moments, remind him that each part of
the process is necessary—like stepping stones—and then help him focus on how he will feel
when he has finally accomplished his objective and has attained his goal.” The dragon seemed
to be finished, but then added, “Remember, in many ways, he’s just a typical teenage boy.”
The wizard gazed at the sleeping youth, and, for a moment, wasn’t sure who was the real
Jason. As he watched himself, asleep in his own bed, he wondered, “Is Jason pursuing his
dreams, or are his dreams pursuing him?”
www.TollyBurkan.com
95
Chapter Twenty-four: A Race Against Time
When the phone rang, the three Wagner’s were at the dinner table eating dessert. Janet
answered the phone, and both boys reacted when they saw their mother turn pale. She hung up
the phone, and the brothers asked in unison, “What’s the matter?”
“That was Christian,” Janet said as she returned to her seat. “Because of Nick’s
connection to People’s Planet, they are going to try Nick as a terrorist and seek the death
penalty.”
No one spoke. Everyone sat in silence and contemplated the reality of what had just been
learned. Later, they would be informed by Jim Baxter that Nick’s trial was scheduled for midApril. And Jim would also be preparing them for the worst. After all, Nick was, in fact, guilty
as charged. The evidence was overwhelming.
When Ryan finally phoned Travis to share the latest development, Travis had to reach for
a wall to stabilize himself, “No way!” he shouted in denial.
Ryan didn’t give his friend time to say another word. “Trav—Dude—listen up. Jay has a
plan. Is Amy there?”
“Yeah.”
“’K, get your butts over here as soon as you can.”
Christian, Travis and Amy all arrived at the same time. They joined the Wagners sitting
at the dining room table. Everyone looked tortured as Jay convened the meeting.
“I think we all need to be on the same page,” Jay said for openers. “Travis and Ryan
need to be brought up to speed about the big secret.”
“Big secret?” Ryan thought to himself. “How can I be living here and not know there’s a
big secret?” He furrowed his brow, but really didn’t consider saying anything out loud, and
quickly returned his attention to Jay.
“Ryan, Travis—it’s time you knew why I was kidnapped.” The younger boys sat
spellbound, bug-eyed, daring not to breathe, in anticipation of Jay’s words. He then told them
about Mick’s discovery, and explained, “low-energy nuclear reactions do occur.” With
competence, authority, and power, Jason also outlined all the key and relevant details of ensuing
events so that Ryan and Travis had a good overall picture of the situation. The only thing he did
not share—and never shared—with anyone—not even Amy—not ever—was his mysterious
relationship with a white dragon.
“As you now all know, Amy and I have been building a laboratory in my room. From
what I have gleaned from my dad’s clues, this won’t take up much space. But right now, I need
everyone’s help. If we work together as a team, we can perhaps unravel my dad’s breakthrough
www.TollyBurkan.com
96
in time to exchange it as a barter for Nick’s freedom. If we can pull this off before mid-April,
there won’t be a trial at all.”
“I bought a new boat,” Christian said to Ryan and Travis. “Part of the research has to be
done out on the Bay.”
Mrs. Wagner joined in, “Jason and Ryan, I’m going to arrange with your school for you
both to have half-days. Ryan can help Christian on the boat each afternoon, while Jason works
in the lab. The Cutlers aren’t likely to let Amy and Travis take off half the day from school,
since we can’t let them know the details; but on some days, Travis can work on the boat too,
after he gets home around 3:30.”
Christian continued, “Jim Baxter doesn’t know what we’re up to. In case we fail, it’s still
important for him to be doing all he can for Nick’s defense.”
Somewhere far removed from Berkeley, Agent 37 said to Agent 89, “There seems to be a
lot of activity at the Wagners tonight. I think it’s time we installed a bug.”
As the meeting at the Wagner house wound down, Christian injected, “Oh yes, my friend
Barney, the P.I., he’s also going to be helping me. He knows everything that we do—in fact,
much of what we know comes to us through Barney.”
The next week was a bustle of activity. Jason purchased expensive hardware, which they
could now easily afford; Ryan and Christian assembled one contraption after another on the boat,
per Jay’s specs; and Barney meticulously swept the house and combed the boat every day—
removing the bugs that kept appearing through seemingly invisible means.
Under Michael’s supervision, the white wizard made nightly visits to Nick, who needed
more encouragement than anyone at this point. “If you can find meaning in your situation,” he
told Nick, “the suffering will end.” The wizard told Nick that unless he learned the lesson in all
this drama, then it would keep plaguing him, perhaps forever—until the lesson was finally
learned.
At night, Nick’s nightmares were replaced with fits of optimism. He wrote Travis letters
about his dreams, and the two of them marveled at the similarity of their respective wizards.
As Jason orchestrated the pursuit of Mick’s work, everyone who watched, including the
Feds, was amazed at the mental and emotional competence of one so young. He did indeed seem
to possess a very old soul.
No one noticed more than Amy. And in many ways, her romance with Jay merely
mirrored Janet’s and Mick’s romance of years before. The same traits that made her admire
Jason, were duplicates of the traits that Jay’s mom admired in his dad. And the traits that
attracted Mick to Janet were identical between Jason and Amy as well. Sometimes, it seemed
like history repeating itself. Even while working on the formula, Jay had frequent flashes of déjà
vu.
www.TollyBurkan.com
97
At night, Jason—the white wizard—continued his visits to Travis and Nick. He
especially wanted to make sure that Travis didn’t go off the deep end if they failed in their
attempt to save Nick. He knew that Travis and Nick were already making plans to move to
Vermont together after Travis turned eighteen and Nick got released from jail. When Travis
heard that Vermont was planning to legalize gay marriage, he wrote to Nick, “Those Dudes in
Vermont are really rad. They rule! Totally!”
The wizard was more pleased with his progress at night than he was with Jay’s progress
by day. By day, Jason grew more and more perplexed by riddles that seemed impossible to
decipher. Even though there were many promising “mini-breakthroughs,” March began with a
somber mood that permeated and enveloped Jason’s laboratory like a fog... dampening his spirits
and obscuring the light.
And as the days in March unfolded, each failed to produce the sought-for answers. By
the end of the month, despite Janet and Christian announcing their engagement on the Spring
Equinox, everyone involved in the secret project felt rather glum. On the last day of the month,
Travis told his parents that he was dropping out of high school and getting a GED equivalency
diploma.
“Dude!” Ryan erupted when he heard the news. “You mean your parents aren’t going to
disown you and throw you out of the house?”
“Well, my dad threatened both those things,” Travis laughed. “But when he saw that I
was prepared for either option, he relented. So now I can work on the boat with you every day.”
Shortly before dawn, on the morning of April first, Jason was sleeping in a chair, with his
head resting on his arms that were folded on the table in front of him. The dedicated young
scientist had fallen asleep while working late in his laboratory. There were more bats than usual
circling the Wagner house. Janet and Christian were sleeping in the master bedroom; and Ryan
slept, as usual, with a headset on and a constant stream of pirated music pouring into his head.
“Michael, we’re running out of time,” Jason complained to his mentor. “My head aches
from spinning in circles. Why am I not finding the answers to my questions?”
“Sometimes, asking the question is, in itself, the resistance to the answer.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Everyday, you keep looking at A, B, C and D—asking, ‘Is it this? Is it
that?’ Maybe it’s ‘None of the above’.”
The exhausted wizard was about to complain that he was sick and tired of riddles, when
Michael said “Grab this!” and sent him a direct transmission.
www.TollyBurkan.com
98
“Oh my God! You’re kidding?” Jason screamed aloud in his sleep—and woke himself
up. Realizing that it was April Fool’s Day, he even pondered whether or not the dragon would
dare play such a mean and reprehensible joke on him? Without a lapse in time between his eyes
springing open and his head rising from the table, Jay began muttering equations and formulae—
reaching for his calculator, and getting more excited by the second.
Whoops and yells emerging from the Batcave aroused Janet and Christian—even Ryan,
whose ears were enshrouded by the sound of blasting music. Through the beat of Hip Hop
pounding in his dreams, Ryan heard his brother scream—“I’ve got it! I’ve got it! Holy shit!
I’ve got it, got it, got it!”
When everyone arrived, they found Jay jumping up and down on his bed like a five-yearold. He was both laughing and crying at the same time. Ryan and Christian joined in his
laughter. Janet joined in his tears.
When the scene became more sober, Jason said, “It will take a week to verify this, but it
will work—I know it!”
Janet headed to the kitchen to start making coffee. As the sun rose, Christian was on the
phone with Barney. Before he dared to speak, he used the scanner Barney had given him, just to
make sure the phone wasn’t being tapped. Damn! It was.
“Barney, the phone’s tapped again, so I’m not going to talk with you now. Come over as
soon as you can and have coffee with us.”
Twenty minutes later, Barney arrived. Over coffee, he listened to the latest news. Then,
after a few moments of consideration, he offered his thoughts. “As I see it, we have two choices.
We can either try to pretend that it’s just business as usual around here, hoping that the pressure
level stays approximately where it is; or we can make a big show, by hiring a private army for
protection during the next seven days while Jay confirms the breakthrough.”
Unanimously, they decided on the army.
The first week of April soon became a three-ring-circus, with a constant hum of activity
and non-stop excitement. Jay took off from school, labored ‘round the clock, never slept in his
bed, succumbing only to cat-naps which overtook him now and then as he worked. Janet, fearful
for the safety of her youngest son, afraid that he might also get kidnapped and held as a
bargaining chip, arranged for Ryan to be tutored at home. A van loaded with specialized
equipment and armed occupants, patrolled the entire block under Barney’s expert supervision.
Men, who seemed very young, and who could have easily been mistaken for friends of the
teenage brothers, concealed sophisticated weapons as they protected the Wagners 24/7.
Without their knowledge, Barney also arranged protection for the Cutlers. He did not
want to be caught unprepared, knowing how very cunning was the nature of the adversary. Amy
herself had an important part to play, and so, protectors invisibly stalked her, staked out the
school, and guarded her house each night as she and Travis slept.
www.TollyBurkan.com
99
Michael spent little time with his newest wizard, as Jay rarely could be found sleeping.
Whenever the boy briefly shut his eyes, the dragon wasted no time in planting direct
transmissions inside Jason’s head. The plan was far more intricate than simply announcing that
the formula for cold fusion had been discovered; and Michael had to be certain that Jason
understood every detail of what Amy needed to do while Jay himself was confirming the
efficacy of the breakthrough.
By week’s end, Christian phoned Jim Baxter. It was time for the attorney to be brought
into the new picture. “I can’t discuss this on the phone, Jim. But we need to have a meeting.”
“When?” the lawyer asked.
“Yesterday.”
And so it was arranged.
www.TollyBurkan.com
100
Chapter Twenty-five: The Meeting
With only a week to go before the start of Nick’s trial, a small entourage of vehicles
pulled up in front of the building housing the law offices of James Baxter, attorney
extraordinaire. Barney, and several dozen armed guards, surrounded Christian’s boat and the
Wagners’ home.
Far away, as two men watched a screen, Agent 42 asked Agent 51, “Why do you think
they’re all arriving at the lawyer’s office in a limousine?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they’re celebrating something?”
Once Jason, Janet, Christian, Ryan, Amy, and Travis had all settled into Jim’s office, the
meeting began. Jason was the first to speak. “Mr. Baxter, I’m going to make this very simple.
The government has our friend in jail. We want him out—we want him out now with no strings
attached.” When Jason noticed that the attorney was about to interrupt, he held up his hand and
continued.
“They have something we want—AND—we have something that they want. Believe me,
you will see in a minute, they want what we have far more than they want Nick, or even want to
use him as an example for deterring terrorists.” Jay then delivered the bombshell.
By the end of the meeting, Jim Baxter was completely numb and dumbstruck. Wheels
were attempting to turn in his brainbox, but nothing came from his mouth. After an interminable
silence, he shook his head in amazement and said, “I think you have indeed bought Nick’s
freedom.”
Amy then told Jim about her part in the gambit. For while Jay was verifying the results
of the experiments, she had spent tireless hours on the Internet, assembling the information
needed to complete their overall strategy. It wasn’t going to simply be a matter of trading what
they had for what they wanted.
Outside, above the streets of San Francisco, 500,000 bats fluttered, darted and soared, in
a daylight display never before witnessed anywhere on Earth. Wire-services would be
extrapolating on the story for weeks.
www.TollyBurkan.com
101
Chapter Twenty-six: Mick’s Gift to the World
The charges against Nick were changed to something like “aiding and abetting
criminals,” and he was sentenced to time already served. As soon as he was released from jail,
James Baxter handed an envelope to a man in a dark suit, who promptly left the attorney’s office
and was never heard from again.
The next morning, every United Nations Delegate representing a country with a border
along the sea, received an e-mail. It contained explicit instructions for creating energy from sea
water—using fusion. Everything needed, was in the e-mail... the formula, the diagrams, the
details in minutia. It was signed, “With my blessings, Mick Wagner.”
Nick moved into Christian’s house to serve as care-taker; since Christian himself had all
but moved into Janet’s house. It was decided that as soon as Travis turned eighteen, he and Nick
were going to move to Vermont and work at a ski resort managed by Jim Baxter’s brother-inlaw. Travis was eager to “show those eastern dudes how to board Cali-style.” Nick was simply
looking forward to getting out of the state, hoping to leave a lot of bad memories behind.
The first night Jason returned to the Batcave to sleep in his own bed, he snored for
thirteen hours straight. He awoke expecting to find headlines in all the papers—screaming the
story of cold fusion. But instead—nothing! Absolutely nothing. Nada. Not a word.
“Strange,” was all he thought.
The next day: again, nothing.
That night, he asked Michael, “How come there’s been nothing on the news? I would
have thought that this was one of the biggest stories in a decade.”
“It is,” Michael replied. “But the media know nothing about it.”
“I don’t get it,” the wrinkled, white wizard wondered aloud to the dragon.
“Jason, energy is a commodity. It is bought and sold like soy beans or gold. The power
business is big business... to the tune of two trillion dollars a year.”
“Two trillion every year?”
The dragon shook his head in the affirmative, and the wizard whistled.
“We’re talking about a lot of power,” Michael continued. “Of course everyone seems to
be after power these days. And you gave it to them—big time! But you see Jason, when power
is craved like that, and suddenly, it appears—then no one knows what to do with it—no one
knows what to do with THAT MUCH power.”
“Certainly it won’t stay under wraps forever,” Jason lamented.
www.TollyBurkan.com
102
“No, it won’t. But obviously no one thinks it’s the right time to announce what’s
happened. Everyone is considering what to do—especially in light of the fact that everyone
knows that everyone else also knows what they know.”
“What now?” the wizard asked.
“High school graduation. Courting Amy. College.”
“You make it sound so—routine. So—ordinary. It doesn’t seem very exciting.”
“Give me a break Dude. Haven’t you had enough excitement for a while?”
“S’pose so.”
“Besides, haven’t I taught you that you are the creator of your own experience? It isn’t
what’s happening in your life, it’s what you do in response to what’s happening. Don’t forget
what you learned from Dr. Hawking. You create your life with your choices.” The dragon then
added, “Don’t worry, if you get too bored by day, I’ll spice things up for you at night.”
“Amy just told me the exact same thing.”
Michael winked.
www.TollyBurkan.com
103
Chapter Twenty-seven: Three-and-a-half Years Later
Michael had been Jay’s teacher for three-and-a-half years. Jason recalled that Michael
often said, “You can’t even count the number of numbers. That proves your mind is finite. You
will die before you could count the number of numbers.” The thought daunted Jay relentlessly.
The more Jay tried to contemplate the nature of infinity, the more he was confronted with
the fact that one cannot measure the infinite using finite tools. Yet, by attempting to do the
impossible, he felt that he stretched his mind in healthy ways. As a scientist, he needed to
exercise his brain, just as he exercised his body at the Do Jo.
It was through this route of pursuing mental gymnastics, and also by grace, that Jason
Wagner, a mere fourth-year college student, discovered how to fly. Michael had told Jay that
grace is a mystical quality. At the time, Jason asked Michael, “‘Is’ a mystical quality, or ‘has’ a
mystical quality?”
Michael was used to the way his protege thought. And the white dragon was extremely
pleased with the progress of this masterful wizard.
“When your lovely wife Amy excites you with her fragrance, do you think, ‘Amy smells
wonderful’ or do you think, ‘Amy is wearing something that smells wonderful’ ?”
“I think ‘Amy smells wonderful,’” the wrinkled white wizard responded without any
hesitation.
“There’s the answer to your question,” Michael said with a twinkle in his ancient green
eyes.
That interaction was taking place in one of Jay’s dreams, but as it occurred, he was aware
of his young wife’s fragrance as she slept snuggled next to him in their bed that chilly night in
Berkeley. He inhaled her, and a smile illuminated his face even as he slept. He wriggled closer
and spooned his body more into her own.
When he had awoken in the morning, even before he kissed his wife, Jay’s mind fixated
on the nature of grace. It set his psyche flying... flying... flying... He looked up and imagined
that he saw several white albino bats circling the bed. He blinked, and his power animal
vanished. “By day my power animal helps me allow life to be easy,” Jay’s mind was flying.
“Michael is my power animal, my mentor, my protector—at night. He’s a dragon and he has
wings. Bats have wings.” His mind stopped. There was a sudden, bright, white, flash of light—
and Jay screamed out loud, “Amy! I’m going to fly.” The unexpected explosion of sound
erupting from his lips, woke Amy—so it was, they both sat upright with a bolt, at the exact same
moment. “What the—?” Amy said sleepily.
She never completed the thought, because her 21-year-old husband, was already kissing
her fervently on the mouth. And Jason himself never said another word, but the passion of their
love-making that morning, gave her a direct experience of what it felt like to fly. Between pants
www.TollyBurkan.com
104
and giggles, the two of them squealed and chirped with sounds and gestures that can only emit
from those who are so deeply in love.
That fateful morning, now a month before, gave birth to Jay’s newest invention: a
personal flight-pack. He didn’t invent the concept. It went all the way back to the twentieth
century when science fiction writers in the 1930s had characters like Buck Rogers jetting here,
there and everywhere with power-packs that enabled them to fly. Several had actually been built
by the United States Air Force in the latter half of the century. But so far, none were perfected—
not to the point of being marketable. Jay was about to test-fly an idea that could change all that.
Soon, with his innovation, just about anyone would be able to comfortably afford a device that
would allow them to fly like a bird—or a bat.
The implications were truly profound. Emissions from conventional automobiles were
polluting the air, and also contributing to the global warming that has already caused the ice caps
to shrink and the weather to change. When people could fly to work with a non-polluting device,
cars would be fewer, and used far less.
Jay drove north on highway 101, heading for Point Reyes, where he would test his
invention for the first time. Amy sat next to him, commenting on the clear sky and ideal
conditions, as their Honda Accord plodded along the congested freeway.
“Do you realize that it’s going to take us over an hour and a half to get from our
apartment in Berkeley to the beach at Point Reyes?” Jay huffed as they again came to a stop, in
the stop-and-go, bumper-to-bumper nightmare that everyone endured as they came through the
bottleneck on 101 in San Rafael. “Soon, I will be able to fly there in 30 minutes.”
What made Jason’s invention different from anything that had come before, was that it
really wasn’t a “flight-pack” at all, but rather, a cape.
When the cape wasn’t in use, it folded closed like an umbrella. Also, like an umbrella, it
was a combination of fabric and spoke-like rods. When opened, the cape resembled the Batman
cape Jay had constructed for his Y2K costume a few years before. The spokes were hollow, and
besides giving form to the cape, making it kite-like when fully deployed, the spokes directed
energy streams that propelled the device. Within a pouch sewn between the shoulders, was an
onboard computer. The miniature computer transmitted and received information, to and from,
the Global Positioning Satellite system. Using GPS technology, the cape could be programmed
before each flight; so, once the wearer was airborne, there was no need to do anything more than
enjoy the ride. The cape flew by auto-pilot.
The aero-dynamics were similar to a kite or hang-glider. Unless the owner chose to
suspend GPS functions and employ personal navigation, the flying person could read a book,
take a nap, or extend arms forward and assume the “Superman-position.” The only times that
full attention was required, were during take-off and landing.
The hydrogen propellant was a by-product of onboard electrolysis. The prototype that
Jason was planning to test-fly, contained lithium batteries. However, the capes he envisioned for
www.TollyBurkan.com
105
the future, would be much lighter in weight; for they would contain no batteries at all. They
would be perpetually powered by streams of electricity, that would be transmitted without wires.
Before Jay got side-tracked with the cape, he was, in fact, working on re-discovering a
secret lost with the death of Nikola Tesla, the true Father of Electricity. Just as a radio receives
sound that is transmitted through the air, without wires; so too, Jason’s cape would receive
electricity—that would be transmitted through the air—without wires.
By the time Jason and Amy arrived at the beach, it was approaching noon. The young
couple lovingly removed the folded cape from the back seat of the Honda. They opened it, and
draped it over the roof of their silver Accord. The cape was black, but Amy was saying, “Jay,
the next one has to be more colorful. I’ll make a batik with purples and reds.”
Jay laughed, “Well that one will be for you. This is my Batman cape, so it has to be
black.”
The two lovers were in high spirits. Not only were they celebrating the day of Jay’s testflight, a mere month after he awoke with the idea, they were also celebrating the result of Amy’s
pregnancy test. Apparently, the same morning Jay gave birth to the notion of personal flight,
their love-making started a new life, now growing inside Amy.
Jay opened the truck of the car and removed two headsets. “Put this on,” he said,
handing one to Amy. He placed the other on his own head and started walking away from his
wife, pacing down the beach. “Can you hear me now?”
“Yes.”
He kept pacing. “Can you hear me now?”
After testing their ability to communicate, Jay returned to the car.
“Okay Batman, are you ready?” Amy gushed with excitement.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Jay replied, donning a helmet.
Amy helped Jay harness the cape onto his body. It attached like a parachute or backpack,
but had a few extra straps that Jay added for additional security. As Amy checked and rechecked each and every inch of the harness, Jay noticed a slight cramping in his stomach. It was
similar to the “stage-fright” he remembered experiencing—along with an adrenaline-rush—each
time he performed with the demo-team doing gymnastics displays at the football games in high
school. “You okay?” Amy asked, noticing the pensive expression on her husband’s face.
“Yeah. I just want to be extra, especially careful. After all, I don’t want anything
happening to your baby’s father.” Just then, he noticed the albino bats overhead, and his body
relaxed.
www.TollyBurkan.com
106
Jay checked his instruments one more time, then simply said, “Here goes,” and lifted off
the sand.
It was a surreal moment for the two college students. Their excitement and joy was
infused with a sense of awe and disbelief as the cape performed exactly as it had been designed
to do. Jay rose higher and higher, timidly at first, but with a thrill that kept pushing him to go
higher still. “Can you hear me now?”
Amy was screaming and jumping and running every which way on the ground, shouting
with hands waving wildly in the air, “Yes! Yes! Oh my God—Yes! Yes! Yes!”
Jay was astonished at the silence. Amy was a speck on the ground. He could see miles
up the coast as he glided north along the ocean’s edge. It was such a new and overwhelming
experience, and yet, so familiar. After all, he had been flying every night for three years, usually
straddling Michael’s neck. But this, though similar in sensation, was absolutely, so hella cool—
it was off the charts. “I’m not on something that flies, I AM flying!” he exalted to himself, and
then screamed out loud at the top of his lungs, “Yeeeeeee-ha!”
“Ouch,” Amy transmitted.
“Sorry.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
107
Chapter Twenty-eight: Nikola Tesla
Jason was positioned to graduate high school as the class valedictorian. But then the
kidnapping occurred, and all the related incidents. Therefore, Jay did not graduate first in his
class. But he did tie for salutatorian, and was still glowing from that honor, when he served as
Christian’s Best Man, the day following graduation. Jay’s brother Ryan gave the bride away.
It was at Janet and Christian’s wedding reception that Jason first heard about Nikola
Tesla discovering a way to transmit electricity without wires. A cousin of Christian’s was telling
another guest about how Tesla lit 200 lights, 25 miles away, without wires—and how Tesla’s
secret was lost when the man died. Jay was immediately reminded of how his father’s secret
might have been lost, had it not been for Michael’s coaching.
Nikola Tesla was a brilliant inventor and innovator. Though Thomas Edison seems to be
more well-known, it’s actually Tesla who was Master in the realm of electricity. Following the
wedding, Jason gradually got sucked into researching Tesla’s work—more as a hobby, in the
beginning—but the hobby soon became an obsession. “Thank God for Amy,” he often thought.
If it had not been for their courtship over the summer, Jay would have done nothing more than
pursue the mind of Nikola Tesla, spending every waking hour either in the library at CAL, or
holed-up in the Batcave.
At night, Michael was completely encouraging. “This may prove to be your livelihood,”
the white dragon observed on one occasion.
When school began that fall in the year 2000, Jason went to CAL, and Amy went to
UCSC, the state university’s Santa Cruz campus. Jay continued to live at home, while Amy
adjusted to life in a dorm. Every weekend, Jay drove to Santa Cruz, or Amy drove to Berkeley.
They went skydiving together, they joined into a firewalking ceremony together, they took minivacations together. And as their romance became more and more impassioned, they both came
to realize that they were meant to be life-partners.
Amy transferred to CAL, and the two were married in 2001, during the summer
following their freshman year. They rented a duplex apartment in Berkeley, less than a mile
from campus, and only half a mile from Janet and Christian; which pleased Jason, because he
couldn’t imagine a life without his Batcave.
When Ryan decided not to attend college, but to start his own computer repair service
instead, he assumed he could take-over his older brother’s bedroom. After all, Jay was now
living with Amy. However, Jay persuaded his brother to leave the Batcave intact, as Jason’s
personal laboratory. And so, Ryan cramped his home-based business into his own—woefully
small—bedroom; while Jay continued to frequent the Batcave—sometimes six days a week—for
many hours each visit.
Jason was a scientist. His mind was always craving to know that which wasn’t yet
known. Tesla’s work fascinated him. Nikola Tesla created answers to questions no one had ever
thought of asking. His brilliant mind was like a magnetic attraction to Jay’s own mind. So Jay
www.TollyBurkan.com
108
would have studied Tesla simply for the joy of knowing the man through his works. But now he
had another motive—compelling in its own right.
It was already Autumn of 2003, and nothing had ever happened as a result of Jason
giving the secret of cold fusion to the world. In fact, the world at large did not even know of the
event. It was already the best-kept secret of the twenty-first century. The reason was “politics,
profit and power”—pure and simple. When years passed with nothing appearing in the news or
on the Internet, Jason asked Michael for a plausible explanation.
“Politics, profit and power,” Michael said. “The countries bordering the sea can produce
unlimited power. But the land-locked nations are now being held hostage by their neighbors
with coastlines. The countries with the power want exorbitant profits for transmitting the power
to the countries with no access to the sea. Though it hasn’t become public knowledge, the
political seething is actually greater than that connected to the terrorism plaguing the planet right
now.”
If Jason could re-discover Tesla’s secret for transmitting electricity without wires, his
intention was to only give it to the governments of the land-locked nations. His reasoning was: if
one nation generates the power, and the neighboring nation serves as a contractor who could
transmit it wirelessly into the homes, offices, schools and factories of the nation creating the
power, then certainly the nation with the power would allow the energy to be wirelessly
transmitted to the land-locked nation—as an exchange.
Tesla hadn’t considered cold fusion. It was not in his equation. However, the United
States government was very familiar with hot fusion. The government liked Tesla’s idea of
wirelessly transmitting electricity because it would allow nuclear power plants to be built on the
moon, and then the electricity could be sent back to Earth. If there was a nuclear melt-down on
the moon, it wouldn’t risk the lives of the population on Earth. The government wanted control
of Tesla’s technology. But Tesla wanted a business deal. He wanted to keep the secret for
himself, and then sell his services to the government as an independent contractor. The
government balked at this, but Tesla was unyielding. Therefore, when he died, his secret went
with him. To date, no one had yet come close to re-fathoming the mystery. No one, that is,
except Jason Wagner.
Jason was in his senior year at UC Berkeley. His studies in school had nothing to do with
his flying cape or transmitting electricity without wires. These “pets” were his hobby. They
were exotic. His physics courses were far more mundane. He never even told his professors
about his pets. Jay was doing well in school, his wife was expecting their first baby, everything
seemed perfect. His life with Michael was constantly causing him to grow—and the fact that no
one else knew about the white dragon and the white wizard, not even Amy—also gave him a
deep sense of confidence and satisfaction. Though no longer encumbered with hubris, at twentyone, Jay felt that he was on top of the world.
Somewhere far removed from Berkeley, Agent 37 said to Agent 89, “We’ve been
assigned to handle that Wagner kid again.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
109
“Not HIM?”
“Yeah, him.”
Although Jay thought he was experimenting and doing research in secret, the government
had never stopped watching him after his caper with the United Nations and foreign governments
of the world. For a long time, no one really knew what he was up to; but recently, by accident,
as a result of routine bugging and spying associated with the new Patriot Act, the unbelievable
reality of what Jason was doing came to the attention of very important people in the secret
government of George W. Bush.
Amy was now ten weeks pregnant. It was difficult to determine who was more excited
and enthusiastic about the pregnancy—Amy or Jason. The two of them looked forward to being
parents with unabashed jubilation. As Jay walked home from working late in the Batcave, he
found himself humming. That surprised and delighted him, for he hardly ever sang or hummed
to himself. He then chuckled mentally, for he realized he was humming “Rock-a-bye Baby in the
Treetops.”
It was ten o’clock and the November night was damp and chilly. Jay turned up his collar
as a cold breeze came down from the Berkeley hills. He liked the walk; it was just half a mile.
He’d only take the car if it was raining, and it would have to be a heavy rain at that. He knew
that he needed the exercise, since he had been going to the Do Jo less and less over the past
three-and-a-half years. And he never did gymnastics these days. There simply wasn’t time,
what with schoolwork, his pet projects, and also being married to Amy. He often thought how
lucky he was that he didn’t have to work. The settlement certainly had made life easier for Amy
and him.
As Jay approached the duplex where he and Amy had the second-floor apartment, he
remembered how hungry he was. When he worked late like this, he usually had to fend for
himself in the kitchen, which meant that dinner would be a cold sandwich and a glass of wine.
When he reached for the doorknob on the outside front door of the bottom level, Jay had a
strange premonition. He couldn’t interpret what it meant, so he quickly turned and glanced
around him. His eyes searched each shadow cast by the street light. Nothing could be seen, so
he shrugged, opened the door, climbed the stairs to the second landing, unlocked the inner door
to his own flat—and gasped.
“Amy!” he blurted. “You... rascal!”
The dinner table was set with brand-new plates and silverware. Candlelight revealed a
new linen tablecloth, and in the center of the still-life, was a beautiful roasted turkey, set on a
silver platter, surrounded with candied yams. Long-stemmed glasses gleamed in the flickering
candlelight, and his favorite wine was uncorked and breathing on the sideboard.
Jason stood for a moment, enchanted—and appreciative that he was married to the finest
woman any young man could ever have for a wife—then he walked over to his beloved, who
was smiling so broadly that her smile was actually a Cheshire grin; and he squeezed her with a
www.TollyBurkan.com
110
hug that took her breath away. He then locked lips with her, and their kiss went on for minutes.
When they finally parted, all Jay said was, “I thought Thanksgiving was two weeks away.”
“Jay, I’m so in love with you, everyday is Thanksgiving.”
“Ditto that,” was all he could say.
“You were surprised, weren’t you?” Amy grinned.
Smiling himself, from ear to ear, Jay nodded, saying, “Read my lips.”
As soft music played in the background, the two lovers dined slowly. It was after
midnight when they finally slipped into bed.
Generally speaking, Jay was a “morning person.” He preferred making love in the
morning. Amy was a “night-time person.” She preferred making love at night. However, on
this occasion, they were both on the same wave-length. After all, it was past midnight, so
technically, it was Sunday morning. They made love until 2 A.M.
As Jay drifted into sleep, he heard Michael laughing, “Not bad for a man as ancient as
you.” The wrinkled old wizard smiled, and then winked at his mentor.
www.TollyBurkan.com
111
Chapter Twenty-nine: The Secret Government
A gun fired, and Jay woke with a start. Amy slept on.
When Jay heard gunfire near the Tahoe cabin, he could assume it was a hunter. But in
Berkeley, as with many cities, gunfire signaled a crime, oftentimes drug-related. When no other
shots were fired, Jay relaxed, noticing for the first time that rain was falling. It was a nice steady
rain; the initial storm that meant rainy season had begun. The rain dripped from the eaves, and
Jay watched it fall through the window next to the bed. When the storm occasionally burst forth
with a downpour, he enjoyed the sound it made pelting the roof. The usually bustling college
student wallowed in the laziness of sleeping late on a Sunday morning. Amy stirred, but she
slept on.
Jay drifted in an out of sleep, never really dreaming, but always snuggling closer and
closer to his wife—the woman he adored. He relished the sensations of their naked skin making
contact, warm and cozy beneath the down comforter. He felt safe and secure, protected by
Amy’s deep love and the aura of her joy. And as the wind rattled the window-frames—and the
rain pounded the glass panes so near the bed—Jay was delightfully aware of his body
temperature rising in response to his love for his sleeping wife.
Jason snuggled even closer, hoping that Amy would soon awaken. He was a morning
person.
Amy smiled and began to purr like a kitten. Jay caressed the back of her neck with gentle
kisses. “You’re awake?” he whispered in her ear. When she mumbled, “Uh-huh,” he licked her
ear and gave her neck another round of kisses. Amy squirmed, and Jay put both his arms around
her, embracing her with his affection.
Amy, suddenly aware of the season’s first rain, began to sing softly, “Listen to the
rhythm of the falling rain,” and she began moving her body rhythmically. Jason loved the
rhythm. She rolled over and faced her horny husband. Each looked at the other through one
open eye. “I’m a mind-reader,” she giggled. “I bet I know what you want.”
Jay started to smile, and was about to say something, when suddenly Amy leaped from
the bed, retching and running for the bathroom.
Morning sickness!
“Damn.”
By the time Amy returned to bed, Jay had relaxed and was now grinning. He was all
consolations and tenderness. Amy felt she was blessed to have such an understanding husband.
He always seemed so much older than his years. (If she only knew...)
Jason announced, “It’s breakfast in bed for you today M’lady.” He stood over her and
bowed low, bestowing a kiss on each nipple.
www.TollyBurkan.com
112
“Ooooh. What’s the bill of fair today M’lord?”
“Turkey omelets.”
“Sounds wonderful,” Amy sighed. “And I’ll have my turkey omelet with an additional
side order of turkey, thank you. I’m eating for two now.”
Jay kissed his wife, stepped from the bed, and was about to don a robe, when Amy said,
“Honey-buns, don’t put on your robe, just turn up the heat. I love watching you walk around
naked.”
He knew how she felt, because he too loved watching her walk around the flat without
her clothes. Of course he complied. They both had the habit of being nice to each other.
As Jay cracked eggs in the kitchen, he reflected on the night he had just spent with
Michael. It was laden with both wisdom and foreboding. Michael started the episode with
levity, remarking on the sexual prowess of “one so young.”
Soon, the two were discussing the fact that Jay never really slept. Every day he
interacted with his peers, professors, his wife, and then, Michael was quick to point out, “You
spend your nights with me.”
“True,” Jason countered, “But I only do so if I’m sleeping. Because, oh humble dragon,
you are merely a dream.”
“I see,” Michael retorted. “You mean I’m not real. Is that it?”
“Well if I have a pain in my foot by day—I mean a killer, nerve-sizzling pain—even after
it’s gone, like three days later, I will remember that pain because it’s real pain. It is a part of the
daytime, REAL world. But you are a part of the night—the world of dreams. I’m sorry if this
hurts your pride my sweet, dear dragon. And though we can both see that I’ve grown extremely,
ridiculously old in the dream-world, we both know I’m REALLY just twenty-one.”
“H-m-m-m-m,” the dragon snorted, and a thin wisp of smoke exuded from his nostrils.
“You think if you have a nerve-sizzling pain here, you won’t remember it just as vividly in three
days? Well I can prove you’re mistaken about that point.”
Jason saw the dragon’s eyes turn red, and flames started dripping from his jaws like
saliva from a dog. Suddenly he grasped his mentor’s point, and simply said, “I understand. You
don’t have to prove it.”
“And during the day, you say you’re only twenty-one. You may look it, but you don’t act
it. Your wisdom shows. People are always commenting about it. Your light isn’t hidden under
a bushel. And all that was acquired here. You apply it during the day, no differently than you
www.TollyBurkan.com
113
apply the knowledge you gained from attending your mathematics courses. Maybe this is reality.
Maybe the daytime world is the less real. Who are you to judge?”
That stopped Jason cold. Who was he to judge? Perhaps he was insane? Perhaps these
dreams were a form of actual psychosis? Was it true that he never really slept? Was his mind
active 24 hours a day—seven days a week—all year long? Who was the real Jason? Who was
he? The mind that never slept? Or the body breathing deeply, lying by Amy’s side in the
bedroom of their flat? He had been concerned enough to research the topic of dreams for many
hours in the CAL library; but though volumes had been written on the subject, none were
conclusive. He knew as much about dreams today as he did before he ever cracked a tome on
the subject.
Jason, the old white wizard, felt uncomfortable. He grew silent and absent-mindedly ran
the fingers of both hands through his long white beard. Then his right hand shifted to the
flowing mane of his platinum-colored hair. This discomfiture always occurred when he doubted
his own sanity... when the line between genius and pathology blurred. He abruptly changed the
subject.
Jason Asked, “What is intuition?”
Michael hesitated, then said, “There’s an invisible energy center behind your nose—Grab
this!” The dragon then fed the details about this “secret energy center” directly into the
wizard’s mind, using a direct transmission. Jason stiffened, then relaxed, and nodded as he
grasped the implications of the energy center behind the nose. It was the source of intuition.
In a flash, Jason understood the cliches he’d heard for most of his life: He has a nose for
news. I smell something fishy. Just follow your nose. They all implied a sense of intuition.
As Jay added diced onions and turkey to the eggs, sizzling in the pan, he smiled broadly,
recalling all that he had learned during the night. But then, the memory of the darker warnings
Michael transmitted, brought a look of concern to his young brow.
“Your computers have all been compromised with spyware. Your every keystroke is
being recorded. There is no way to remove it unless you reformat all your hard drives. I suggest
you do that immediately, and from now on, keep all your secrets recorded nowhere else but
inside your own head.”
“M’lord,” came Amy’s voice from the bedroom. “It smells wonderful, but I’m on the
verge of starvation.”
“Shan’t be but another moment M’lady.”
Two minutes later, the naked knight gallantly strode into his lady’s boudoir, presenting
her with a platter fit for royalty. The two lovers then sat cross-legged in bed and devoured the
morning’s feast to the music of falling rain.
www.TollyBurkan.com
114
When an hour had passed, and the two were literally licking their fingers, Jay said, “I’ll
do the dishes and clean-up the kitchen. Then I have to go to the Batcave to complete some
computer work.”
“I’m going over to my parents’ house this afternoon,” Amy replied. “It’s amazing how
everything has changed since I got pregnant. They were so against our marriage and so uptight
about Travis moving to Vermont with Nick—but since they learned they were about to become
grandparents, something radical has shifted. They suddenly seem as if everything is okay—that
Travis is a fine young son, and you, the prior villain who absconded with their baby girl, why
now you’re the bragged-about son-in-law that they always wanted in the family.”
Jay smiled. “They’re just getting older. We mellow and grow wiser with age, don’t ya’
think?” (It was really the wizard speaking.)
The phone rang and Amy answered it. It was Janet calling for Jay.
“Your mother’s on the phone Honey-buns.”
“Hey Mom, what’s up?”
“Christian and I are going to the city to start our Christmas shopping. You have a letter
that came yesterday. I forgot to give it to you, but since you said you were coming by this
afternoon, I’m going to slip it under the door to your cave.”
“Thanks a lot Mom. I’ll be by later. Have a good time in San Francisco.”
After doing his chores, Jay finally got dressed and went over to his mother’s house. As
expected, Christian and Janet were not at home. But Jay could hear Ryan’s music blasting
before he even got within 40 feet of the front door. “Ryan,” he shouted, thumping on the barrier
to his brother’s room. The music stopped. The door opened.
“Yo, Jay, Dude. How’s it hangin’?”
“Hey Bro’. I want you to check something for me on my computers.”
“’Course. Wussup?” Ryan now sported a wispy goatee, and wispier mustache.
“I want you to see if there’s any spyware on my computers, and if there is, I want to
know if you can figure out when it got there and who might have put it there. I want to know
what kind of software it is and if it’s possible to remove it.”
“You just feeling paranoid, or do you have a reason to suspect someone’s spying on
you?”
“I dunno Rin. I’m just following my nose you might say. And something smells fishy.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
115
As the brothers opened the door to Jason’s lair, Jay looked down and saw the envelope
his mother had phoned about earlier. Ryan booted the computers, and Jay read the letter.
Before long, Ryan whistled and said, “Holy shit Batman! You’ve been penetrated! Big
time!”
“Tell me, Rin.”
“I don’t know how this all got on your machines, but every place you surf, every stroke
you type—it’s all been logged and sent to another computer. I can’t tell much else about this
program—except that I can’t remove it. It’s very well protected... and very well hidden. Do you
have any idea who would do this?”
Jay handed his brother the letter. “Maybe here’s a clue.”
The letter was from some government agency neither boy had ever heard of. It was a
request for an interview with Jason. Ostensibly, his input was desired for an undisclosed project
that was being developed in connection with new security measures the nation needed in order to
combat terrorism.
Ryan was immediately suspicious. “I never heard of this agency, have you?” he asked.
“That doesn’t mean anything. There are a zillion new agencies that no one has heard
of—all created since 9/11.”
“What are we going to do about the computers? You want me to back-up your files and
reformat the drives?”
Jason thought for a moment. “No. Rin, I want you to remove the drives and burn them.
Everything is backed-up already—in here,” he said, pointing to his own head. Then he added,
“You should probably check your own machines Bro’.”
Ryan, already livid, was about to become enraged at the very thought of someone
violating his privacy; but Jason anticipated the outburst, and said, “Ryan, cool your jets.” Jay
rarely called his kid brother by his given name. That in itself caught the younger boy’s attention.
“Something sinister is lurking here Rin. I can smell it! Let’s just keep our eyes and ears open.
After my meeting, we’ll plan what we want to do. But right now, we still are clueless about
what’s really going on.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
116
Chapter Thirty: Star Wars
After Jay’s meeting, before he discussed it with his brother, or his wife, or with any other
person, he wanted to speak with Michael.
The night following the meeting, a somber old wizard sat on a large rock talking to his
teacher. “I’m so glad you taught me how to pay attention 100%—and also about using intuition.
I was able to take away far more than what they thought they were revealing. Michael, I’m
overwhelmed.”
“Start from the beginning,” the dragon counseled.
“Three men explained to me that the government, in connection with private enterprise,
plans to develop a number of space-based projects. It didn’t take me long to realize that private
enterprise and government are one and the same entity. The largest corporations, banks and
insurance companies are controlling what we have always thought was an elected government.
Michael, I got to see that it makes no difference who we elect, there’s a secret government that
never changes. It represents all the big-money interests. They want to build something similar
to what used to be called Reagan’s Star Wars—a space-shield and weapons system comprised of
satellites and docking-stations.”
Jason spoke on and on while Michael stood still and listened. He told the dragon that he
believed there was a conspiracy to channel all the new cutting-edge technology into secret
weaponry, espionage, covert military bases, and space-travel. There wasn’t a hope for medicine
or industry to even have access to much of the technology that the secret government was
guarding. Jay also deduced that the situation was really world-wide, and not limited by national
borders. There was a global powergrab, with stakes that were clearly incalculable.
“How much of this was revealed to you and how much are you getting from your sixth
sense?” Michael asked.
“They never revealed much at all, actually. But they took me on a little tour of a secret
facility. I put myself into ‘attentive-awareness mode.’ Without them knowing it, I read memos
on desks, I glanced over graphs and maps that were open in various locations, I noticed what
information was being sought—by the books on shelves—I observed certain kinds of equipment
in use, overheard a number of hushed conversations… and then my intuition kicked in.”
“Now I understand how you got so old, so fast,” the dragon laughed.
Jason became silent. A worried look overcame him, and then he said, “The scary part, is
the evil I smelled. Ultimately, I was threatened. They are familiar with every aspect of my pet
projects, and if I refuse to work with ‘them,’ unthinkable consequences were hinted at.”
They both fell silent. Long moments passed, but neither spoke.
www.TollyBurkan.com
117
And so progressed the night. Morning dawned. Jay opened his eyes. He could not recall
another time when dragon and wizard had spent an entire night in silent thought—no
transmissions—a silent night. Amy was snoring, so he knew she was sleeping deeply and
needed the rest. She had no morning classes, so Jay slipped noiselessly from the bed and let his
wife sleep on. He himself had a class he couldn’t miss; but his spirits were low and he had to
force his feet to drag him to the campus.
As he walked along Euclid Avenue, he imagined that every bush hid a stalking agent. He
thought every camera, held by any person at all, was being aimed at him. He was certain that
satellite images were capturing his every move, transmitting his exact whereabouts to countless
G-men whose job it was to make sure that Jason Wagner eventually complied with their wishes.
His paranoia was hard to conceal, but he remained constantly evasive when quizzed by
his family and friends. Both Thanksgiving and Christmas came and went in a joyless blur. Jay
feared not for his own safety, but for the safety of those he loved most dearly. He didn’t doubt
for a moment that “they” would find a human life a meaningless amount to pay in the high stakes
game he was now involuntarily and inextricably involved in. Perhaps the most disconcerting
part of it all was simply the waiting. He was told that he would be contacted. But it was now
mid-January of 2004, and no further contact had been made. Obviously, they were deliberately
allowing the fear to have time to root deeply and grow. They were so very right. They knew
how to play this game—and Jason did not.
During this entire time, Michael remained unusually silent. He seemed to only remind
Jason of things they had already discussed many times over the past four years. Most of all, the
dragon would repeat, “Remember, it doesn’t matter what happens—what’s important is your
response. You can’t always control what happens to you, but only you can choose your
response. The worst thing, would be to automatically react. That route always leads to
suffering. You’re not a robot Jason. Just because one of your buttons gets pushed, you don’t
have to automatically respond with anger, hate, this emotion, or that. You can be the master of
your own life. You can create your life with your choices.”
One day, between classes at CAL, on a particularly warm, clear and sunny afternoon in
late January, Jay strolled off campus to Blackberry Canyon—one of his favorite haunts, and
where he seldom found time to escape to these days. His spirits were glum, despite the fact that
white, albino bats fluttered about him. Instead of the joy he had felt during his first months of
impending fatherhood, Jay had all he could do to staunch the dread and foreboding he felt for the
safety of his unborn child.
Jay was so preoccupied with his own thoughts, he didn’t notice another person sitting
about 75 feet upstream from where he always parked himself, under a fragrant Bay Laurel.
When she got up and started walking downstream along the path, Jay only noticed her when she
stood above him, perhaps eight feet away, as he sat cross-legged on the ground.
“Sorry to disturb you, but you’re right on the path.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
118
Jay looked up, startled, and then embarrassed. “Oh no, I’m sorry—it’s just that I always
sit here. It’s my favorite spot.”
He was about to move, when she said, “That’s funny. It’s my favorite spot too. But for
some reason, I walked a little further upstream today, just to check out a few new spots. Do you
come here often?”
“I used to, but now I don’t seem to come often enough.”
“My name is Heather,” said the young woman, and she extended her hand.
Suddenly the shy schoolboy, Jay extended his own hand and shook Heather’s saying,
“I’m Jason.”
Heather looked about the same age as Jason and Amy, but Jay thought she could be a few
years older. Her hair was short and light blond, in contrast to Amy’s long, dark tresses. She was
shorter and thinner than Amy—well, of course, Amy was now almost five months pregnant. But
even before.
“You attend CAL?” he asked.
She seemed awkward talking down to him, and Heather knelt on the ground as she
answered, “No. I’m actually from Wisconsin. I’m here taking care of my aunt. She’s dying of
cancer and I’m her only relative. My mom and her were sisters, but when my mother died, it
meant Aunt Kate had no one to turn to but me or total strangers.”
“How’d you know about Blackberry Canyon?”
“Aunt Kate lives just up the street. She told me about it.”
The two fell into an easy conversation; Jay, pleased with the distraction, and Heather,
obviously grateful to have found a respite from tending to a shut-in. They talked for about half
an hour, discussing really nothing in particular, when Heather said, “I have to get home or my
aunt will worry about me.”
When she rose to go, Jay also got to his feet, as a courtesy, and said, “It was nice to meet
you.”
Heather left, and Jay returned to sitting cross-legged on the ground. He thought to
himself, “She was a very sweet person. It must be because she’s from Wisconsin. Girls from
there seem so naive, so innocent compared to girls around here.” He even thought briefly about
matchmaking: Heather and Rin?
Heather had left many minutes before, but Jay’s thoughts about her lingered. But of all
his thoughts, none came even close to suspecting that he had just been set up with a secret agent.
www.TollyBurkan.com
119
“I just left him,” Heather whispered into her hidden body-wire.
www.TollyBurkan.com
120
Chapter Thirty-one: Heather
The next time Jay went to Blackberry Canyon, only four days later, Heather was sitting
cross-legged in his spot under the Bay Laurel. “What a coincidence,” he said out loud.
When he visited Blackberry Canyon more and more often, even Jay himself wasn’t aware
that he was actually motivated by a secret desire that Heather would coincidentally, once again,
happen to be there. And so it occurred; during six of his next nine visits to the Bay tree, Heather
was there—despite them never once having planned it.
On this day, however, Heather had spread a blanket at the water’s edge and was in the
process of eating lunch, picnic-style. She had a book with her, and seemed to be munching
cheese and crackers while she read. On the blanket were a picnic basket, an apple, banana, a
wrapped sandwich, and an open can of Arizona Green Tea. When Jay approached, Heather
looked up in surprise. “Oh, hi Jason,” she said. “Hungry? I have food to share.”
Jay sat down on the blanket without waiting for an invitation. “I’m not hungry. But do
you have another green tea?”
“No, but you can share mine.” She handed Jay her opened can. It was half full. “Finish
it, I had more than enough; I was going to dump the rest.”
As Jay slugged the remainder of the tea, Heather showed him the cover of the book she
was reading. For some reason, it reminded him of swarming bees; which caused him to glance
up. There were the bats. The white bats seemed as if they were fluttering in distress. This
perplexed Jay. He wanted to consider this. Then, everything went black.
When he awoke, Heather was gone. His head throbbed. He ran his hand through his
hair. No lumps, or bumps. Only then did he realize that he was naked.
www.TollyBurkan.com
121
Chapter Thirty-two: The Damning Photographs
On February 12, 2004, the newly elected mayor of San Francisco did the most
extraordinary thing. As an act of civil disobedience, he started issuing marriage licenses to gay
couples. Two days later, on Valentine’s Day, Travis and Nick flew back to California to partake
of the phenomenon.
Travis was at the flat speaking with his sister when Jay came home from school. “This is
even better than the civil union we had in Vermont,” he was saying, “and as I understand it,
Massachusetts will soon allow outright marriage for gays. Heya Jason,” he said, greeting his
brother-in-law when he first saw Jay enter the room.
“Hey Travis,” Jay responded, and the two men gave each other a hug and a few pats on
the back. “Where’s Nick?”
“He’ll be back in a minute. He just ran down to pick up some Chinese food. Amy said
you’d be at your mom’s till late, so we didn’t order anything for you.”
“No prob. There’s food in the fridge.” Jay bent over and kissed his sitting wife on the
mouth. Then he ran out the door and returned with a bouquet of four-dozen white roses. “One
for each month since our first official date. Happy Amy’s Day, Valentine.”
The slack-jawed girl glowed with the surprise. Then, after a moment of speechless
silence, she said, “I thought you’d be in the Batcave. But don’t think I forgot it’s Valentine’s
Day. You’ll get your present after the lights go out.”
“I’ve been thinking that I spend too much time away from you,” Jay replied. “You’re
taking fewer classes and staying home more now, and I thought it would be better for the baby to
feel my presence more. Don’t you agree?”
Amy was delighted to hear her husband speak this way. She had been reading about inutero bonding, and had read that a fetus can recognize the voices of mother and father when it is
born into the world—if they speak often in its presence while it is still inside its mother. “I do
indeed agree,” said Amy, and she rose to her feet to give an appreciative full-body hug to her
beloved.
Before Nick returned with dinner, the phone rang. Jay answered it. Janet’s voice
crackled, “Sorry Jay, I’m on my cell phone and it’s a bad connection. I meant to phone you from
home before I left. There’s an envelope for you. I slid it under—” The line went dead. Even in
this modern day and age, cell phone service was spotty at best if you were in the hilly Bay Area.
“I’m sure it’s not important,” Jay found himself saying to a dead receiver. He hung up,
just as Nick entered the room.
www.TollyBurkan.com
122
Nick’s genuine joy and affection beamed on Jay like a laser. He set the bag of food down
on the table, and gave Jason the kind of hug maternal Aunts reserve for their favorite niece or
nephew. He then kissed Jay on both cheeks and said, “Baby, you look like shit.”
“I’ve been tired lately, ya’ know. I’ve got a lot happening.”
“Let’s eat,” Amy interrupted. She always seemed to have food on her mind these days.
Jay warmed some leftovers in the micro-wave, and they all sat down to dinner. Travis
did most of the talking, and his sister was pleased to see the tremendous, positive changes in her
brother. Living with Nick had affected him for the better, and she felt deep satisfaction that their
coupling had worked out so well. “Unless the mayor stops the weddings, by this time next week,
Nick and I will be man and husband,” he said. The words sounded so funny that they all started
laughing, including gloomy Jason; and everyone had to struggle not to choke or spray food on
each other as they cracked up.
After dinner, Jay excused himself so he could go to the Batcave and fetch his mail. As he
walked toward his mother’s house, he thought back to Valentine’s Day, four years earlier. That
was when he had told Amy of his love for her. It was truly the beginning of their serious
romance. He mused to himself about the nature of time. Indeed, four years ago seemed like
only four weeks. His thoughts and memories kept him occupied, and without realizing that any
time had passed, he was climbing the stairs to his old bedroom.
He opened the door and looked down at the large envelope that had been left for him by
his mother. It hadn’t been opened of course. Besides the postage, and his name with Janet’s
address, the envelope was unmarked. He opened it with trepidation. And then the horror show
began.
The contents were simply photographs. The first was a picture of Heather and Jay under
the Bay Laurel tree. It was obviously taken the first time they met. The next picture showed
them sitting together by the water’s edge. Different clothes clearly revealed this was another,
separate meeting. Jay went through each of the photographs. They all seemed innocent enough.
A young man and a young woman were always depicted in the same general vicinity, interacting
with gestures and words. The shadows proved that these were taken at different times of day,
and the varied garb indicated meetings over time, in different weather.
Then Jay saw the first of the damnable images. Heather, her face clearly revealed, was
lying naked on a blanket with a naked Jason beside her.
Jay broke into a flop-sweat, and within seconds, his clothing was drenched. He felt sick
to his stomach and on the verge of regurgitating. “Maybe this isn’t me,” his desperate and dizzy
mind conjectured. “Or if it is, and I’m unconscious, what can that prove?”
Then came the next picture. They were lying much closer, side by side. Jay’s eyes were
obviously wide open in this picture. No one who knew Jay would ever dispute that this was a
photograph of Jason Wagner. His face was unmistakable.
www.TollyBurkan.com
123
“My eyes are open?” Jay said out loud incredulously. “How the—?”
The next image was the most disturbing of all. This time, Jay was lying with Heather on
top of him, and as they faced each other, Jason plainly had both his hands on her shoulders. Jay
thought the pictures couldn’t get any worse, but he was wrong. The final photo again showed
them lying side by side. Worst of all, their lovemaking completed, Jay was smiling.
“What kind of drug could she have given me?” Jay wondered. “I can’t remember a
thing!” Just then, he saw a plain slip of paper extending from the envelope. In hand-written
print, it simply said: It’s time for another meeting. You’ll be contacted.
www.TollyBurkan.com
124
Chapter Thirty-three: Jay’s Confession
That night, Jason brought his latest problem to Michael.
“I feel so alone. I can’t tell Amy the truth; it would stress her out, and that certainly
won’t be good for her pregnancy. My mother’s a worrier. Ryan is too impetuous. Michael,
what would I do without you?” Then Jason quickly said, “Forget that—don’t tell me.”
“Jason, there was once a man whose wife suspected he was having an affair. He actually
wasn’t. But his wife kept finding ‘evidence.’ The man truly loved his wife, and an affair was
the last thing he’d ever consider, but there was no dissuading his wife. No matter what he said, it
seemed hopeless. His wife was on the verge of leaving him. Finally, he told the first lie of their
marriage. He confessed that he was having an affair. He begged her forgiveness, volunteered to
enter counseling, and vowed it would never happen again.”
“Are you making this up?” Jay asked.
“This really happened. The wife forgave her husband, and they wound up living happily
ever after.”
“Are you implying I should simply tell Amy that I really did have an affair—even though
it isn’t true? Don’t you think she’ll believe that I was drugged?”
“Would you believe you?” the dragon said flatly.
“No.”
Jason hung his head. Then he straightened, and said with assertion, “I’m not going to
lie!”
The dragon said nothing, though Jay thought he heard, “Hmmmmmmmm.”
“I’ve never lied to Amy before, and I see no reason to start now,” Jay affirmed with selfrighteousness.
“You’ve never told her about us. That’s called a lie of ‘omission’.”
“Michael, no matter what I consider telling Amy, I know it’s going to cause her pain,
stress and suffering. That can’t be good for our baby.”
“Jason, listen to me—and hear what I am saying. You know why those pictures were
taken. Someone intends to have Amy see those pictures. That part should be obvious to you.
That is also out of your hands. You can plead that you were drugged, but it’s only going to
appear a facile defense. The assumption might be that you were seduced. But the pictures
document a developing relationship that culminates in sex.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
125
The dragon paused, then added, “With eyes wide open.”
“With eyes wide shut,” Jason replied—quoting the title of a recent Tom Cruise movie.
The two were both silent for a long time. Jay, after considerable thought, broke the
silence. “I’m going to tell Amy everything—in stages.”
“Don’t wait too long Jason. Those pictures are probably on their way to Amy right now.
This is only the ‘shot over the bow.’ As horrible as it may seem to you, this is just a warning.
The heat will be raised in increments.”
“STOP! STOP!” Jay pleaded. And then the old wizard wept. His tears overcame him,
and soon he was sobbing without control.
When he regained his composure, all he said was, “I’ll tell her in the morning.”
“What are you going to say?”
“I’ll explain that due to circumstances beyond my control—”
Michael cut him short. “Circumstances are not so clearly described Jason. There’s
always room for interpretation. Those pictures are going to speak for themselves.”
“Damn it Michael! You’re no help at all! What should I do?”
“Wake Amy right now and show her the pictures. Tell her you can’t sleep, because these
had just come in the mail. Tell her about your meeting. Tell her about Star Wars. Tell her why
you withheld all this from her. Tell her everything—except about us. Save that for another
time.”
Jason opened his eyes. In his short life, he couldn’t recall ever feeling this miserable. He
knew that if he woke Amy now, she would not be able to go back to sleep. No, he would not
follow Michael’s advice. There were times he didn’t always do what Michael had suggested,
like the time Michael told him not to use his martial arts skills to escape from The Fatman.
Instead of berating him, the dragon had congratulated him on knowing when to follow his own
instincts. And now, his instinct was to let his young wife continue sleeping.
But Jason wouldn’t sleep... not another wink. He lay in bed listening to Amy’s breath.
Silent tears streamed from his eyes, and his chest ached. The night seemed endless as he waited
for dawn, knowing that the dreaded, inevitable pain of having to speak the truth was only hours
away. White bats, phosphorescent in the dark, circled Jason—fluttering gently, as if trying to
soothe him. “‘Let it be easy,’ the message of the bat,” thought Jason. But his pain and suffering
would not yield an iota; and his tears still flowed.
The minutes, and hours, were interminable. Finally, Jason—already numb from remorse,
dread, and lack of sleep—saw the first hints of dawn accumulating in the eastern sky. He hated
www.TollyBurkan.com
126
the thought of dawn, but he could not much longer bear the anguish he had endured through a
mostly sleepless night. Amy stirred. He automatically raised his hand to stroke the shoulder of
his precious, beloved wife—mother of his child-to-be. But in mid-air, he stopped. He suddenly
felt ashamed to touch her. He felt unworthy. “Once she knows—would she want to be touched
by me? …the Traitor? …the Betrayer?”
Amy, still more asleep than awake, swung off the side of the bed without any warning.
As she half-stumbled toward the bathroom, Jay thought, “The baby must really be pushing down
on her bladder. I’m surprised she didn’t have to get up hours ago.”
When Amy returned, Jay forgot to close his eyes and feign sleeping. The dawning light
showed Amy her husband was awake. “Hey Babe,” she said. Sliding her naked body under the
down comforter and next to his own, she snuggled in close to Jay—and to her shock—her utter
incomprehensible bewilderment—the unthinkable happened. Her beloved—pulled away.
“J-Jay?” she stammered.
“Shit! Here goes nothing,” his mind thought, in a flat silent throb within his splitting
head.
“Amy... Amy... Amy...” he was trying to speak; but instead, he began to sob. Amy
reached out for him, but he again pulled away. “Jay, Sweetie, Honey—what’s the matter?”
The more he attempted to compose himself and speak, the more he lost control, until
finally, he grabbed his confused and frightened wife, and clinging to her like a baby chimp clings
to its mother, he let the wracking sobs have their way with him. He abandoned all restraint, and
his emotions spoke for themselves. Never in his entire memory had he ever recalled crying like
this—there was simply no way to control it.
Without even knowing why, Amy too began to sob—and then, through that strange and
mystical quality known as intuition—Amy knew why the man in her arms was drenching himself
in his own tears. She screamed, “Jay! NO! You didn’t! Please! Please! Tell me you didn’t!”
Though he hadn’t wanted to confess until he prepared her with the details of having been
“set up,” he was not able to stop his head from nodding in the affirmative.
As if suddenly struck with a dowsing of cold water—Amy’s sobs ceased, more abruptly
than they began. She looked down at Jay, who was quivering and whimpering like a stranded
puppy. Two distinct feelings were warring within her—compassion and revulsion. She seemed
very composed when she rose from the bed and went for her robe. Consciously or not, she didn’t
want to be naked with this man—not now at least.
Neither Jay nor Amy left the house that day.
By sundown, Jay had told Amy as much as he could. He explained the pressure he was
under to play ball with the government. He showed Amy the photographs. He shared his theory
www.TollyBurkan.com
127
about having been drugged. Throughout it all, Jay was tearful, and Amy—aloof. “Amy,” Jay
pleaded, “You haven’t said anything all day. Please—please—say something.”
“Jay,” Amy began. “This is not about whether or not you were given a date-rape drug in
those naked pictures. It’s the pictures with your clothes on that I find upsetting. There were so
many of those… all on different days. Jay, you were having a real relationship with this other
woman—and never told me. That you kept this secret from me… that’s what hurts. I need time
to compose my thoughts.”
Then, after about five minutes of silence between them, Amy said, “Jay, I want you to
sleep on the couch tonight. I just feel the need to be alone with myself. Tomorrow, I’m going to
the Tahoe cabin to just have some time—time to just... think.”
“I understand,” Jay nodded.
www.TollyBurkan.com
128
Chapter Thirty-four: While Amy is Away
The day after Amy left for Tahoe, Jay’s cell phone delivered the news that he was going
to be escorted to another meeting. He was given detailed instructions, and later that same day, he
found himself sitting in a room with someone he had never met before.
“Jay, you’re lucky I’m not like the others,” the man was saying. “I was disgusted—I
mean really pissed—the idea that they were going to send those pictures to your wife. Jay—
believe me son, I burned them! And the negatives! The very idea of it just sickens me—those
damn perverts.”
What was he hearing? Was Jay hearing this right? The pictures were never sent to
Amy?––would never have been sent to Amy? What!?! His mind was reeling.
The man telling him this was a guy about forty-five, obviously in good shape, but a tad
over-weight. He had a military crewcut, and a tie that was way-loosened, and sort of dangling,
from a wrinkled shirt, unbuttoned at the collar. He said his name was Zack.
“Jay,” he went on, “you’re not stupid.” Zack then remembered that he was speaking with
a genius—a REAL genius—and so when he heard his own words, he thought himself very
funny, and gave a genuine chuckle. “Well, as I wuz sayin’, you sure ain’t stupid. So you know
what we’re dealin’ with here. We’ve got terrorists and suicide-bombers—and Jay, the truth of it
is—there ain’t no way in hell we can beat these guys. Homeland Security is a joke, Mr. Wagner.
There will never again be such a thing as security in this country. Don’t you realize that these
wackos can drive a truck of fertilizer onto a bridge, or into a tunnel, and in five seconds they can
snuff out thousands of lives? Not dozens—THOUSANDS! My God Jason, we need your help.
We NEED you Jason. For the sake of your unborn baby, can’t you see that you can be of
service—to improve the quality of your own kid’s future? Without you, we may not be able to
guarantee that your new baby will be able to enjoy what you’ve just been taking for granted.
The world has changed. And it might get a lot worse without your help.”
Jay stared at Zack. The man seemed sincere.
“Jay, am I getting through to you?”
“Isn’t this all about profit, and Star Wars?” Jay snickered smugly.
“What the HELL are you talking about you idiot?” Zack shouted at the top of his lungs.
The next fifteen minutes involved a lively... “debate.”
Eventually, when both the younger and the older man had spent their emotions defending
their respective points of view, Zack said in a matter-of-fact tone, “Jason, you don’t have to
make any decisions today... or even tomorrow. But in the next few weeks, I want you to phone
me. The experiments that you are doing could help us save many, many, many lives. I can
appreciate your motives and your suspicions. You’re just like my own kid... an idealist. But
www.TollyBurkan.com
129
Jason, I’m swearin’ to you boy, these are bad times. If you want to help—not just your own
kid—I mean help us all, then I hope you’ll work with us and stop thinking of us as the enemy.”
Jay left the meeting a bit confused, but by and large, he felt optimistic. “Jeeze, they
weren’t even going to show the pictures to Amy.” In one way, he regretted that he was so
impetuous—but he was also glad that he remained truthful with his beloved. His first impulse
was to phone Amy and tell her about the meeting. Then, he decided that he would tell her in
person. He would drive to the cabin and ask her advice. There were big decisions that had to be
made, and Jay wanted Amy to be a part of this. Jay glanced down at his watch. It was only three
o’clock. If he left soon, he would be there before nine.
www.TollyBurkan.com
130
Chapter Thirty-five: The Pictures Revisited
Jay thought he knew his wife. That is, nothing that she ever said or did struck him as
particularly out of character. So he played various scenes in his head as he drove to Tahoe. He
was trying to prepare himself for his wife’s reaction to the meeting with Zack. He had of course
told Amy to expect the photos to arrive in the mail. What would be her reaction when he told
her that the only reason she saw the pictures was because he decided to show them to her?
Jay was thankful that March of ’04 had been so dry. The roads were not at all icy, so he
made even better time than he anticipated. He zipped up Freeway 80 at a steady 75 miles per
hour. However, as he left Route 80, and dropped into the Tahoe Basin just south of Truckee, the
roads suddenly seemed treacherous, as they were covered with black ice, and Jay’s progress
slowed to a crawl. By the time he arrived at the cabin, it was almost ten, and Amy was asleep.
Jay opened the front door and immediately called out in a reassuring voice. “It’s only me.
Honey, it’s Jay.”
“Jay?” came Amy’s voice in reply. A light went on at the top of the stairs. “Jay? Why
didn’t you phone?”
“I’ll explain everything,” Jay called, as he stepped into the warm house and shut the door
behind him. The heat within the cabin was a welcome greeting. Amy’s cool tone of displeasure
was another matter entirely.
“Jay, you should have phoned. I would have told you not to come. I really wanted to be
alone. I just need this time.”
“OK. I’ll leave.” Jay turned and was just reaching for the doorknob, when Amy asked,
“What time is it anyhow?”
“It’s a little after ten,” Jay said without emotion.
“Jay, I was sound asleep. I think I’m still half-asleep. Don’t go—but spend the night on
the couch downstairs.”
This was not a scene Jay had anticipated. “I’ll just turn on a lamp and curl up on the
couch. We can either talk in the morning, or I can leave—you just tell me what you want after
we get up tomorrow.”
“’K.” Amy snapped off the light upstairs, and Jay could hear her padding into the
bedroom.
He called after her in a meek and wounded voice, “I’ll turn off the lamp in five minutes.”
There was no reply.
www.TollyBurkan.com
131
Jay used his coat for a blanket, snapped off the lamp, and plumped a few throw-pillows
together under his head. About ten minutes passed, and then he heard sounds of movement
upstairs. Daring not to turn on a light after having just been rebuked only moments before, Jay
listened with an attentive ear.
“Jay, I really wish you would have respected my need to be alone,” came Amy’s voice
from the darkness. “I was working things out in my own way.” Just then Amy turned on an
upstairs light.
Jay looked up and saw his wife descending the stairs, fully dressed, wearing both her
boots and parka. “I’m going for a little walk,” was all she said. Jay turned on the lamp and
watched Amy opening different drawers, in search of her mittens. He got off the couch and
walked toward his wife, saying, “Please don’t go outside. It’s cold, you’re upset, and I’ll just be
worried sick.”
“Jay,” Amy’s tone was loveless, “if you weren’t here, I’d be able to take a walk anytime I
felt like it, night or day. Get it? I don’t want you trying to control me.”
Jay felt divided by his desire to let Amy have her freedom, and his desire to protect her.
He knew she was upset, and he had also read somewhere that pregnant women often behave
irrationally. He wanted to say, “OK, just be careful,” and give her a hug; but before he spoke, he
began reaching out. Amy believed he was going to try to restrain her, so she put up her hand in
defiance. With the two of them both in motion, it would be impossible to blame either one for
what happened; but it almost seemed as if Amy half-punched, half-slapped, a bewildered
Jason—with her fingernail coming across Jay’s face and drawing blood. Jay, startled, fell
backward and knocked over the lamp and small table upon which it stood.
“Oh my God! Jay! I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Jay touched his cheek and saw blood on his hand. Amy said, “You’re bleeding.”
“Oh it’s nothing...” He was going to continue speaking, but Amy burst into tears and ran
out the front door. Jay started after her, but she slammed the door in his face—and he was lucky
that he was able to stop abruptly—and thus he spared himself further injury. Jay took a few
long, deep, slow breaths, resolving to wait a few minutes before opening the door. He and Amy
had never had an altercation in all the years that they had known each other. He wanted to be
sure he wouldn’t do or say anything that might escalate the situation. His only concern was that
Amy returned to the cabin—he would then quickly, and quietly, get in the car and drive back to
Berkeley.
Jay let approximately four minutes pass, and then he opened the door. A blast of cold air
sent a shiver through his body. He reached for the switch that turned on the outside lights.
When the lights came on, a stunned—and uncomprehending—husband, stared down at his
lifeless wife, sprawled askew, at the foot of the icy stairs. At first paralyzed by the devastating
www.TollyBurkan.com
132
image, Jay started moving as he spoke Amy’s name. “Amy?” he said softly at first. “Amy!” he
screamed. Almost slipping as he scurried to descend the stairs, Jay crouched over the limp form
grotesquely splayed in the snow. He resisted the impulse to just scoop her into his arms, first
wanting to assess the situation accurately. He wasn’t sure about the how or why, but the
unthinkable was apparent: Amy was dead.
Dead? Impossible! Jay was momentarily in denial.
Time stopped and everything blurred. Then, Jay screamed, “AMY!” and his bloodcurdling cry of anguish reverberated throughout Lake Tahoe and beyond. Jay’s emotional
system was not prepared for a jolt this monumental. He fell to his knees, rolled onto his side,
assumed a fetal position in the snow, and heaved dry sobs that almost interfered with breathing
itself. Between gasps, moans, and intermittent cries of—“NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!”—Jay
picked up his limp wife, clutched her like a rag doll, rocked in the snow with her in his arms—
and then, as delirium again seized him, Jay would resume a fetal position in the snow.
In shock, shivering, wet, with frost in his hair, Jay lifted Amy into his arms and with
supreme difficulty, carried her into the house. Later, Jay would not be able to recall how he got
his wife back into the house, or at what point he phoned 911. When he was finally able to orient
himself, and fully grasped what had occurred, Jay found himself surrounded by paramedics and
police who were meticulously searching the cabin and bombarding him with questions.
“Captain,” a voice shouted from upstairs. “You better come up here.”
When the officer, dressed in his street-clothes, ascended the stairs, his uniformed
associate handed him an envelope. “Check out these pictures.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
133
Chapter Thirty-six: Jason in Jail
Jay was charged with a double homicide; under the new law specifying that if a pregnant
woman is killed as a result of an assault, the fetus would also count as a human life. The cabin
had shown signs of a struggle, and Jay’s DNA was under Amy’s fingernails. When the pictures
were discovered in Amy’s luggage, it appeared that Jay was having an affair and had decided to
throw his wife down the stairs in the hope of it looking like an accident. The pictures were
damning—and colored all the evidence, making it seem he was indeed guilty.
Travis and Nick, now temporarily married, thanks to the San Francisco mayor’s act of
civil disobedience, returned to California from Vermont, just to offer Jay emotional support.
Travis didn’t think for a moment that Jay had killed his sister. The very idea seemed absolutely
absurd—not just to him—but to everyone who knew Jay and Amy. Yet James Baxter, Jay’s
lawyer through this ordeal, was quick to point out the similarities with another high profile case
where family and friends initially doubted the husband’s involvement, but in time, became
convinced that he was a murderer.
During the night, before the day Jay was scheduled to undergo a psychological
evaluation, he and Michael were deep in discussions. “I’m totally depleted Michael,” Jason was
saying to the dragon. “Just when I think that things can’t get any worse—they do. I’m in
mourning, but haven’t had time to even feel the depth of my sorrow.” Jason’s tears had long
since been replaced with bitter resolve. To a degree, he was actually still in a state of shock.
Michael said, “You’ve really impressed me these past days Jason. I am quite amazed that
you’ve done as well as you have.”
“I wouldn’t have been able to hold up at all Michael if it wasn’t for you.”
“I don’t think I’ve done much.”
“You keep reminding me to pay attention to my state of mind. You keep telling me that
it doesn’t matter what happens to me, I create my experience with my own choice of response.
You never let me forget that I am not a robot and don’t have to automatically react—I can
choose the inner experience I want, and then make my response accordingly.” Jason paused, as
if trying to remember if there was anything else that he was grateful for in all that the dragon had
taught him. After a moment of stroking his long, white beard, he added, “When Amy died, you
helped me feel the pain without letting it overwhelm me. I still feel it Michael, but I try to keep
it contained. It overwhelms me a lot; it’s not easy.”
“Life isn’t supposed to be easy Jason. If it was easy, you wouldn’t grow. You yourself
have had many more trials than most people your age; but when our challenges don’t defeat us,
we come out stronger for having had them. That certainly has been the case with you. Most
wizards don’t age as fast as you have. You are an extraordinary man Jason.”
The white wizard looked around for something to sit on. Nothing was suitable, so he
simply manifested a large rock, and parked himself upon it. “Michael, in the morning, I’m being
www.TollyBurkan.com
134
taken to a bunch of Shrinks. They might inject me with some kind of truth serum. What
happens if I inadvertently tell them about you, and me, and this place?”
“Why not spare them the effort of injecting you? Just tell them about us... tell them
everything.”
Jason shook his aged, woolly head and replied, “They’ll think I’m nuts. I don’t want to
be put on trial and found innocent by reason of insanity. I want people to know that I am sane—
and that I adored my wife—and that her death was an accident—and that I have suffered an
immeasurable lose. I don’t want to be pitied; but I want to be set free so I can go on with my
life.” Jason stifled his tears, and added, “Besides, if they rule that I am insane, I won’t be set
free. I’ll be locked up, and medicated, perhaps for the rest of my life.”
In a consoling voice, the dragon said, “Well they can only lock you up by day—you can
come here every night.”
“Michael!” Jay exploded. “I don’t want to be locked up at all—not even by day. I can’t
believe you would even consider that I’d be found guilty—or insane. Aren’t you going to help
me win this?”
“This will sound harsh Jason, but there is no such thing as ‘winning’ versus ‘losing.’
You are always being given the situations you need, so you can become who it is that you have
the potential to become. Call them lessons if you like. If you pass your tests, that indicates that
you have learned some major lessons. If you fail your tests, you will have to go through similar
situations again—until the lessons are learned. You must train yourself to ‘rethink’ everything—
so that you always come through winning. The only way to lose, is if you don’t learn anything
when you go through your experiences... good, bad, or otherwise.”
“Didn’t you just contradict yourself? If your perspective is that I can potentially never
‘lose,’ then there can never be anything bad.”
“Consider bad as simply the opposite of good. Amy’s death was not a good thing... I’m
sure you’ll agree?”
Jason nodded his head, agreeing with the dragon.
“The fact that you’re sleeping in a jail cell right now is not a good thing.”
Again, Jason nodded agreement.
When morning came, Jim Baxter arrived shortly after Jay awoke. “I can’t come with you
today Jason, but I will get a copy of the evaluation.”
“I figured,” was all Jay replied.
www.TollyBurkan.com
135
Baxter believed in his client’s innocence—one hundred percent! He was confident that
he would get Jay acquitted.
He was equally confident that the psychiatric exam would present no surprises.
He was wrong! The report contained many, many surprises. When it arrived, a week
following Jay’s evaluation, Baxter had to re-read the report several times. However, no matter
how many times he read it, the conclusion was obvious. The psychiatric professionals were
telling him that his client was Looney Tunes.
Baxter focused on some of the specific language contained within the report.
“Hallucinates... speaks of frequently seeing bats in broad daylight.” “He believes that he is over
one hundred years old. He experiences this daily, especially at night—he imagines that he is
having one continuous lucid dream that never starts anew, but always continues from the
previous night.” “He cannot say for certain which is more real to him, his daylight reality or his
nighttime reality.” The report went on and on, describing Jason Wagner as someone delusional,
psychotic... insane.
www.TollyBurkan.com
136
Chapter Thirty-seven: A Jury of his Peers
James Baxter was livid. “Jason, what the hell is all this garbage about wizards and
dragons and bats—?” he stopped in mid-sentence and just shook his head incredulously, his own
disbelief getting the better of him.
This was their first meeting since Jay’s advocate received the psychiatric report. Baxter,
who was usually a picture of balanced composure, had been clearly upset by the unexpected turn
of events. He held the report at arm’s length and read snatches of it out loud to his client. He
kept shaking his head and pausing, then he would again read aloud, shake his head some more,
and made sputtering noises—as if his own mind failed to find any sense within the content of the
written pages. Jason sat speechless, not wanting to interrupt the man upon whom his entire
future depended. Baxter went on and on, for more than ten minutes. Then, when he seemed to
have spent the last of his energy, he turned to Jay and simply said, “Well, what do you have to
say for yourself?”
“I would never have said any of that, Mr. Baxter—Jim. But they drugged me with
something. I don’t even remember saying that stuff.”
“They were supposed to drug you Jason. They gave you a truth serum. It’s standard
procedure in these kinds of cases. That is really beside the point. What you said is apparently
the truth—at least it is supposedly your truth. Well, you’re not being drugged now; so tell me
what I am supposed to make of all this?”
Jay sat still as a stone. He thought for a moment, then said, “Before I go into any of this,
I want to speak with Michael.”
Exasperated, as if hearing Jay’s words was about to make him explode, Baxter threw the
report on the table, and let out an animal-like groan. But instead of speaking, or shouting, he
merely collapsed into a chair and withdrew into himself. After a couple of minutes of silence, he
spoke quietly and with a rather matter-of-fact tone as he said, “I’m going to arrange for my own
psychiatric evaluation.” He gathered his files, memos, and the damning report, and he left. An
uniformed officer returned Jay to his cell.
That night, Jason conferred with his mentor. “Michael, it was never my intention to
speak about you, or anything relating to what goes on each night. I never shared any of this with
anyone—not ever—not even with Amy. I’m not a fool. Don’t you think I knew what would
happen if I even hinted at what my own reality is like? I can’t believe I said any of it. I don’t
even remember saying it.”
“It’s not a big deal,” said the dragon. “Everyone lives in his or her own reality. Jason, it
is absolutely impossible to know another person’s reality. Even identical twins, raised in the
same house, by the same parents, have different realities. You live inside a world that you
yourself create from the time you are born... based on your programming, your memories, your
fleeting impressions. Depending on the country where you are raised—plus the personalities and
beliefs of your parents, your own thoughts and reactions to events, your religion, skin color—
www.TollyBurkan.com
137
Jason I could go on forever describing the various factors that cause a person to create a certain
reality, but even though everyone has shades of differences within their individual universes—it
matters not—so long as they understand what is considered to be acceptable behavior when
moving through the shared reality of others, in daily life.”
“You mean that it doesn’t matter if everyone thinks I’m nuts?”
“No Jason, it doesn’t matter. A lot of people think the President of the United States is
nuts. But that doesn’t seem to interfere with him doing his job. Normal is only what the
majority decide is going to be ‘normal.’ What might be considered normal in one country, could
be something else entirely in a different country. The only thing that’s important, is that your
behavior harmonize within your society. What you do on the outside is everybody’s business.
But what you do on the inside is nobody’s business but your own.”
“Mr. Baxter is having some more Shrinks check me out. What should I do—what should
I say?”
“Pay attention. There will be bats in the room who will protect you. Let them speak
through you. Remember in high school when you were unprepared for your calculus exam—and
you got an A?”
Jason nodded.
“It will be just like that.”
The next report James Baxter received was more to his liking. He perused it with his
feet, crossed at the ankles, up on his massive desk. He smiled as he read, “While the subject has
a rich imagination, and vivid fantasies, clearly, he is a genius and has used this all to his
advantage. He seems to have no problem discerning the real from the imaginary, and uses it as a
source of inspiration.” Baxter was already thinking about how he would present the two reports
to the jury. He would point out that when Jason had been drugged, he obviously misunderstood
his interrogators, and his response was interpreted incorrectly.
Jay was unaware that his attorney had already received the second report, and he was
curious about what might have transpired during the second exam. Just like the first exam, he
had no memory of what he said. But this did not concern him; because he trusted his bats, and
knew that when they spoke for him, he could relax. Jay was about to rise from his bunk to do
some exercises for staying in shape, when he was informed that he had a visitor. “That’s odd,”
he thought to himself. “This is not the time for visitations.” When he was led to a room, and
saw who the visitor was, everything instantly made sense.
“Hello Zack.”
“Kid, you’ve really been havin’ some shitty luck.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
138
“Yeah, tell me about it. I hope you’ve come to let me know that you’re going to explain
for the prosecutor how I was set up for those photos?”
“Sorry Jay. That I no can do.”
“Well you know I’m going to tell the jury all about that. It’s obviously a setup. How
else would a photographer just happen to be in Blackberry Canyon on each of those days—with
a telephoto lens on his camera?”
“That’s easy. Your wife suspected you were having an affair and she paid a detective to
get the goods on you.”
Jay was suddenly crestfallen. Zack was right. How come he hadn’t thought of that
argument before? Damn! This was definitely a setback in the way he was planning his strategy.
Zack was chewing gum and cracking it, snapping it, so that it made irritating sounds—
and it disturbed Jason’s ability to think. Zack then said, “You know Jay, those pictures are the
heart of the case against you. Without them, the D.A. can’t show a motive. The rest of his case
is all circumstantial. Amy’s death really could have been an accident. Of course there’s the
obvious scuffle, but it’s the pictures that show why you would want to kill your wife.”
Jay didn’t respond, so Zack continued, “The reason I’m here today Jason, is to remind
you about an incident four years ago. Remember how we helped your friend Nick get out of
jail? Maybe we could help Mr. Baxter with your case—arrange a ‘trade,’ if you know what I
mean?”
“What do you want?”
“You know what we want Jay. We want Tesla’s secret.”
“I don’t have it yet.”
“But you’re close... you’re very close. We know that.”
There was a silent pause, except for the snapping of gum, then Zack added, “We’ll help
in any way we can. And we’ll try to forget how you double-crossed us last time. We know
you’re not going to make the same stupid mistake again and go sending stuff to the U.N.!”
“I’ll think about it,” was all Jay said.
“Listen Jason, the jury is going to find you guilty—you cheated on your pregnant wife—
there is no debating that. You’re guilty of something people find abhorrent—even more than
murder. Their going to find you guilty because you cheated on Amy—the rest of the case is
immaterial. I’ve seen this before Jay, I know how it’s gonna come down.”
“I said I’ll think about it.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
139
“Well don’t think too long kid—there’s a clock ticking.”
The guard returned Jay to his cage. Instead of doing exercises as planned, the haggard
youth collapsed into his bunk and drifted to sleep. As he napped, Michael appeared.
“Michael, every day seems more and more dreamlike. It’s my nights with you that seem
more real.”
“Bite your tongue Jason. If you were to say that by day, Baxter would have a heck of a
time trying to prove that you aren’t insane.”
“What Zack said was true. I’m not being tried for murder; I’m being tried for cheating on
my pregnant wife. The rest of the case may be circumstantial, but those pictures are just too
graphic.”
The dragon replied, “Tell James Baxter that you want a trial with a jury of your peers.
Do you know what that means?”
Jason looked blankly at the white dragon. “Are you asking me if I know what the word
peer means?”
Michael nodded yes.
“Well I suppose it means other people who are similar to me. Ordinary people.”
“But you are not ordinary Jason. Nothing about you is ordinary. You have many facets
to who you are. There was a time when juries were only comprised of men. A woman who went
on trial was being judged by peers that were all of the opposite sex. The law recognized this as a
jury of peers, but I myself think that that way of looking at it is preposterous. Jason, I sincerely
believe that Baxter can logically argue before a judge that you are entitled to have a jury
comprised only of men who have cheated on their wives.”
Michael gave Jason the rest of the idea as a direct transmission, and Jay quickly woke
from his nap. He had plenty of energy to exercise, and was just completing a round of pushups
when a guard informed him, “Your attorney is here to see you.”
Before Mr. Baxter had time to utter a word, Jay bombarded him with the appeal that they
argue for a jury of male adulterers. The attorney—who truly thought that he had heard it all,
gave a smile and shook his head in the negative. “First of all Jason, it would never fly. But
secondly, it would boomerang on you. Let’s say we have 12 men who have all had affairs.
True, since none of them had ever killed his wife, they each know that one action does not imply
the other. But suppose, just suppose, a few of those men thought about killing their wives. As
your trial goes on and on, those men are going to start feeling guilty as hell over that thought.
They probably forgot that they ever even had the thought. But now, here comes your murder
trial, and they feel so guilty for having had that thought in the first place—what do they do to
www.TollyBurkan.com
140
relieve their guilt and heal the pain—they find you guilty of murder. Now they think they’ve
done the right thing—and it both relieves their own feelings of guilt, and makes them feel better.
And why do they feel better? Because now they know in their heart of hearts that they are better
than you—yeah, they may have cheated, even thought about killing their wives, but you went
and did it! And by them facilitating your punishment, it helps them feel OK about getting away
with their own misconduct... sort of balances the scales. You’re going to pay not only for your
own sin, but theirs as well. Justice!” Baxter appeared to be finished, but added, almost as an
after-thought, “If we wanted to have a jury of true peers Jason, I’d plead for a panel of 12
geniuses. That would help us.”
Jay had no response, which was fine, because James Baxter had his own agenda and
reason for being there.
“Jason, the District Attorney wants to speak with me about a plea bargain.”
Jay responded as if a fire-cracker had just exploded in his anus. “No! No plea bargain!
I’m innocent. Amy slipped on the icy steps and it’s just that simple. I’ve gone through hell Jim,
and I’m not going to take a plea bargain. I didn’t do anything. I am innocent! Innocent! In-nocent!” Jay was screaming.
Baxter said, “A lot of innocent men are sitting on Death Row, Jay. Unfortunately, our
system isn’t perfect. It’s basically a sound and fair system, that’s why I defend it—day after
day—but I am speaking to you as a realist.”
“Jim, you know I didn’t kill Amy. I bet the Prosecutor knows it too. There’s not a shred
of evidence that I killed my wife.”
“Jay, we both know you are being tried because you had an affair. You can claim you
were set up, even drugged, but every member of that jury is going to think you’re grasping for
straws. It sounds too hokey.”
“I know it does,” a deflated Jason replied.
www.TollyBurkan.com
141
Chapter Thirty-eight: Judge Hawthorne
Judge Nathaniel Hawthorne had a distinguished career as a Jurist. He was friends with
Governors from many states, and though he himself had never yielded to those who often tried to
persuade him to run for public office, he regularly associated with Senators, Congressmen, and
even a few members of President Bush’s Cabinet. He had a reputation for fairness, and was
respected by both Democrats and Republicans—even Greens. The Judge was a tall man, lean
and round-shouldered. He was bald, wore half-spectacles low on his nose, and with heavily
wrinkled skin, the sixty-four-year-old man appeared seventy. He had neither an air of being
distinguished, nor any sign that he was feigning humility. His manner was relaxed, with a
focused eye, and a solid, grounded compulsion for detail. Baxter had always liked this Judge,
though he had never had a case before him.
Judge Hawthorne would be the presiding Judge at Jason’s preliminary hearing. The
preliminary hearing would be “sort of a mini-trial,” in the words of Jim Baxter. He had
explained to Jay that both sides would be presenting their evidence to the Judge. Baxter’s job
was to convince the Judge that there was insufficient evidence to warrant a trial, and he would
move to have the charges dismissed. The prosecutor, on the other hand, would argue that the
evidence was indeed sufficient to move forward with a trial.
When the day of the hearing arrived, Jay changed from his prisoner’s jumpsuit into a
jacket and tie. When he entered the courtroom, he was genuinely surprised at the huge crowd.
There were easily several dozen men and women from the media, there was a throng of
curiosity-seekers, a larger-throng of well-wishers, plus the immediate family: Janet, Ryan,
Christian, Travis, Nick and both Amy’s parents. Travis had told Jason that his parents didn’t
think for a minute that Jay had killed their daughter. Even if it was true that he was having an
affair, they did not connect one event to the other. Jay was unimaginably relieved when he had
heard that. He looked over at his family. Amy’s father smiled at him and made the “OK” sign
by touching his thumb to forefinger in an “O.” Amy’s mother nodded in his direction and held
up crossed-fingers.
Jay looked over at his own mother and noticed that she was crying, gently blotting her
eyes with a tissue. When he saw that, Jay’s own eyes misted-over, and he looked down at his
lap.
Baxter had never mentioned how long this might take, and so, Jay was a bit surprised
when it wound up being the entire day. There was a lot of ground being covered, and Jay kept
his mind attentive to every word. Each item that was admitted into evidence required time.
There were explanations, questions, discussions, objections—it seemed endless.
When the psychiatric reports were submitted to the Judge, Jason squirmed in his seat. He
realized that just behind him, everyone he knew on the face of the Earth, was sitting in the
courtroom.
What would be spoken aloud?
Would the entire world—the media—
EVERYONE!—soon learn that Jason Wagner was deluded, deranged, not even sane?
Fortunately, the reports were handed to Judge Hawthorne without hardly a word being spoken.
www.TollyBurkan.com
142
All Baxter said was, “Please take the time to read all these reports carefully Your Honor.” And
the Judge did just that.
As the bald Jurist read through the pages, he occasionally nodded, sometimes said,
“Interesting,” but no clues as to what he was thinking appeared on his face. Jay guessed that
almost an hour passed before the Judge spoke. In reality, it was less than half that long. Finally,
Hawthorne gave the District Attorney a penetrating glance and asked, “What else?”
Then came the pictures. Though they spoke for themselves, the prosecutor felt the need
to tie the pictures in with a motive. As the D.A. spoke, Jason, fully aware of all his friends,
acquaintances, teachers and family sitting only a few feet away, blushed deeply. His ears turned
crimson; and he felt his breath freeze in his chest. Though the media had already previously
reported that an “affair had been leaked,” the courtroom was unprepared for the vivid verbal
descriptions that the D.A. felt obliged to attach to every picture, as he showed them to Judge
Hawthorne—one, by one. The dis-ease and disturbance in the courtroom caused enough audible
commotion that the Judge felt it necessary to sound his gavel—more than once. He chided the
onlookers, and cautioned that he would clear the room if there were any more reactions to what
was happening during the hearing in front of his bench.
“Who is the woman in these photos?” demanded the Judge. The prosecutor responded by
saying, “Your Honor, we don’t know who she is, or where she is.”
Jim Baxter then told the Judge about Jason’s version of the setup. The Judge listened, a
discussion ensued, and then Hawthorne said to both parties, “OK. What else?”
There was DNA evidence, there were photos of the crime scene—on and on, the day
progressed. The sun was low in the sky by the time the Prosecution and the Defense completed
their presentations to the Court.
Judge Hawthorne poured himself a glass of water from the decanter on his right. He
drank slowly, set the glass aside and put the fingers of both hands together in a little steeple.
And there he sat for upwards of three or four minutes. Not a chair squeaked. Not a throat was
cleared of phlegm. Not even a fly dared to create a buzz. The silence was broken as Hawthorne
parted his fingers and began to speak.
“Jason,” the Judge looked right at the defendant and spoke to him directly. “I knew of
you before all this came before me. Many people remember what happened to you, and what
happened to your father. It’s in a lot of peoples’ recent memories. Many people know about the
large monetary award your family received. I do not find it hard to believe that this woman,
whoever she may be, worked with an accomplice—dropped some date-rape drug in your drink,
and photographed you with an intent to blackmail you or your family. Frankly, I’m amazed that
the extortionists have left you alone this long. You can’t imagine the kinds of schemes that have
wound up in front of this bench.”
Jay’s heart was pounding as the Judge continued. “If you were really having an affair,
this woman would be locatable; but according to all I’ve heard and seen, despite a massive effort
www.TollyBurkan.com
143
to find her, she seems to have evaporated. This weakens, if not totally destroys, the evidence
that has been submitted to support a motive for murder. Jason, our system owes you an apology.
You are the victim here. I’m sorry we’ve held you without bail. I’m sorry we didn’t have this
hearing sooner. I’m sorry you’ve been put through all of this young man. But most of all, I’m
sorry for your loss. It’s a shame that you’ve had to spend all this time since your wife’s death—
behind bars.”
The room remained silent... totally silent. The Judge glanced over a few papers, and
every sound the crinkling documents made, echoed in the stillness. Finally he spoke again.
“There is no evidence here that merits this case going to trial.” A rustle could be heard spreading
through the courtroom. Hawthorne said a few more words, but all Jason heard was, “Case
dismissed!” and the sound of a gavel striking the bench.
Janet was the first to reach Jay. Though a raucous commotion filled the court, Janet was
oblivious to it all as she sobbed for joy and hugged her son. Concentric circles seemed to
materialize around mother and child. The closest were the family members, both Jay’s and
Amy’s. Then came the crush of college buddies and family friends. The media were close
behind. Jay glanced right and left; he just wanted to escape. Judge Hawthorne turned, and was
about to leave through his special door, when he suddenly stopped, looked around, and then
walked toward Jason. People stepped aside. Jason was no more than four feet from the Judge,
when the ex-defendant instinctively put out his hand and said, “Thank you, Your Honor.”
Judge Hawthorne shook the young man’s hand, leaned forward, and said in a soft voice,
“I almost forgot. My son-in-law sends his regards.”
Jay wrinkled his brow with a look of perplexed confusion, and was about to tell the Judge
that he didn’t know who—
Hawthorne, stopped him by simply saying, “Zack.”
Jay had long ago written Zack off as part of a “good cop / bad cop” ploy foisted on him
by the government. He had to smile when he realized Zack really was a good cop.
As if reading Jay’s mind, Hawthorne gave Jason a nod—and the two men grinned.
www.TollyBurkan.com
144
Chapter Thirty-nine: Tesla’s Secret Re-discovered
Jay was determined to graduate college on time, in June of ’04. He never spent time
wallowing in the glory of winning his case; nor did he languish in self-pity. As soon as he was
freed, he immediately began the task of catching-up on missed schoolwork, and making
arrangements with his professors to do whatever was necessary to graduate with the rest of his
class. This, of course, required a monumental commitment of time and energy on the part of the
young genius. But Jay was up to the challenge, and also found time to work at his experiments
in the Batcave. Since Amy was no longer awaiting his return to the flat each night, Jay found no
joy in spending time alone at home. He went there to sleep and shower, but that was all. The
remainder of his time was spent on campus, in classes or in the library, and then in the Batcave,
where he did his homework and pursued the work of Nikola Tesla. Everything in his busy
schedule served as a welcomed distraction from the agonizing ache over Amy’s death… always
present just beneath the surface of his awareness.
Zack tried to make contact on numerous occasions, but Jay would not acknowledge the
notes or respond to the calls. He still hadn’t really forgiven Zack. He was still pissed-off at
Zack, and all that Zack stood for. As far as Jay was concerned, Zack still represented a corrupt
and evil government that had neither morals nor integrity—and Jay was determined that he
wouldn’t give-in to pressure. Now that Amy and his unborn child were dead, he felt a callous
resolve: he had nothing to lose.
One night, Jason was straddling Michael’s neck as the dragon was flying them amongst
the cosmic splendor, when he heard Michael’s voice within the silence of his head. “Close your
eyes Jason. Imagine how much water could fit inside your head—inside your skull.”
Jason closed his eyes. “Maybe three cups,” he guessed.
“Keep your eyes closed,” the dragon went on. Imagine that the space inside your head is
defined by the top of your skull—and on either side—by your ears.”
Jason complied.
“Now imagine that this space—this three cups of space—is totally empty—and black.”
“’K.”
“Imagine that your ears fall away—and also the top of your skull—how big is the space
now?”
Jason was speechless. His sense of himself suddenly expanded, and it went on toward
Infinity.
“Whoa...” he was saying when he opened his eyes.
www.TollyBurkan.com
145
Jason’s eyes were indeed wide open, but he was not awake. He wasn’t sleeping either.
He blinked and stared blankly at the walls of his Batcave. He apparently dozed off while
experimenting. But something was happening to him right now, and with his eyes open, not
blinking, his whole body shuddered with a spasm—and Tesla’s secret was given to him by direct
transmission. Jay’s body gave several involuntary jerks, and then he gasped.
There it was—in his mind, like a Technicolor film on a big screen. And not a moment
later, he knew what he had to do.
www.TollyBurkan.com
146
Chapter Forty: Jay goes to Hell
Jay whistled as he walked across campus. It was May, and Spring was exploding on
every knoll and tree. His schoolwork and exams were all behind him now, and graduation was
merely a formality. He was happy with his plans, and happy to be alive. When regrets about his
wife’s death started creeping into his thoughts, causing anxiety and distractions, with practiced
ease, he shouted silently within himself—“No purpose! Begone!”—and his equanimity was
sometimes restored. The day after graduation, when his Bachelor of Science degree was a
permanent feather in his cap, Jay had a meeting scheduled with Jim Baxter. Of course Baxter
wanted to know what the meeting was about; but Jay was coy, and revealed nothing in advance.
When the appointed time arrived, Jim greeted Jay with more than a hand-shake. He first
extended his hand, but then, pulled Jay forward, and gave him a warm embrace. He felt that
although he was the elder, he was in the presence of a saint, and it felt appropriate for the older
man to pay homage to the younger. When he learned the reason for Jay’s visit, he almost
collapsed.
Jay told Baxter about the cape. He told him about wireless electricity, and he told him of
his intention to give his secrets to all the land-locked nations of the world. But what struck
James Baxter to the core, was the way Jason had woven the old lawyer into his remarkable plans.
“Mr. Baxter—Sir—Jim, I want to commercialize my cape and wireless transmission, here
in the United States. Wireless electricity is a gift to many countries of the world, but the cape
and the U.S. rights to transmission—that I want for myself. The money I gain will enable me to
be a philanthropist and to fund what I see as worthy causes—by my own standards.”
Baxter again thought to himself how much older this boy seemed—he simply could not
be measured by years alone.
Jay’s next words almost drowned within the attorney’s own amazement. Could it be
true? Was Jay actually requesting that Jim arrange a meeting between Jason and the richest man
in the world?
Jay was talking on and on, when the older man finally interrupted him. “Jason, are you
saying that you want me to arrange a meeting between you and Bill Gates?”
“Exactly,” Jason replied.
Baxter had spent a lifetime learning how to strrrrrrretch; so he simply said, “OK.”
And that’s how Jason Wagner got an appointment to meet with tycoon/philanthropist Bill
Gates, in Redmond, Washington, early in June, 2004. When the day arrived, Jay was actually
quite astonished to find that he himself was rather relaxed—considering everything. Mr. Gates
was also masterful at presenting himself with humility, and Jay felt instantly at ease.
www.TollyBurkan.com
147
“Mr. Gates,” Jay began. “I’m a scientist—and I have two breakthroughs that I believe
you will find interesting... very interesting.”
As Jay told Bill Gates about his cape—that had already been tested—and the wireless
transmission of electricity, that would provide an uninterrupted fuel-source—he delighted in
watching the mega-billionaire’s eyes grow wider and wider. Jay explained that he had already
sent the secret of wireless transmission to all the land-locked nations, then back-tracked and told
his incredulous listener about cold fusion and limitless power—then Jay came back to real-time,
and put forth a proposition. He wanted to sell the secret of flight and wireless transmission to
William Gates, III. All he asked for in return, was a percent of the profits.
A flabbergasted Bill, simply asked for another meeting—in two days.
When Jay returned, 48 hours later, Mr. Gates had fully regained his composure. Jay
brought technical data for Mr. Gates and his engineers to review. He also brought a prototype of
the cape and volunteered to demonstrate it. Bill had cleared his calendar for the day, as he knew
he would want to spend as much time as possible with this remarkable young genius who simply
waltzed into his life unannounced and without any warning. In truth, Bill found the time he
spent with Jason to be absolutely scintillating.
Jay met with several different people in the course of the day. Bill introduced him to so
many new faces, Jay actually forgot half their names. Mid-afternoon, Bill said to Jay, “How
about a demonstration flight around our campus?”
“With pleasure,” Jay replied.
Jay explained that the prototype was fueled by onboard lithium batteries, but that once
Gates had a power plant and transmission facility operational, future capes would simply tune-in
for power—with an assigned frequency that would be licensed, and paid for by subscription. As
they walked out to the parking lot, Bill put an arm around Jay’s shoulder and said, “Jay, I know
that your cape is going to perform exactly as you said it would. I just have to see it to satisfy the
little boy in me that still loves to watch exotic circus acts. But frankly Jay, I have enjoyed our
time together as much as anything I can remember. For me, it’s been a rare pleasure to discover
a mind like yours.”
Jay’s flight went without a hitch. Bill Gates stood on the ground with a group of perhaps
40 others, and Jay circled them for fifteen minutes. He flew at varying speeds, he flew at
different altitudes, he turned, he demonstrated rapid acceleration, and also, he came in low so
that everyone could see the different body postures that could be assumed. To say that the
spectators were enthralled would only be an exaggeration in understatement. As Jay landed, just
a few feet in front of Bill Gates, the entire group spontaneously burst into applause. Jay was
grinning so broadly, it felt as if his skin might tear.
“Let’s go back to my office,” Mr. Gates said when the clapping finally stopped. “Just the
two of us.”
www.TollyBurkan.com
148
As the two men walked down the hall to Gates’s private office, Bill again placed his arm
around Jay’s shoulder. Both men were being equally nurtured. Jay thought for a moment that
this is what it would feel like if his father were still alive. He longed to feel the praise and
acknowledgement that Mick would be showering on his son—of whom he would be so proud.
While Mr. Gates, similarly, was feeling a kind of fatherly pride—that this young man trusted
him, and him alone, with the amazing products born of his immeasurable genius. Mutual
admiration and affection flowed easily between them.
When they were both comfortably settled in Gates’s office, with the door closed and all
calls ordered to be held, words suddenly failed both men. Each had much he would have liked to
say, yet both were thunderstruck by a sense of awe, and neither could speak. A minute passed,
and the older man finally said, “Jay, what you have brought me is far-reaching. It’s bigger than
either of us can imagine. It will take years to develop, refine, and put into production—but it
will revolutionize the planet, even more than computers did. You will get a percent of all I make
from your innovations—and I will make a fortune. That’s years down the road, of course. But
to demonstrate good faith, and to cement our business relationship, I will give you a small cash
advance of... fifteen billion dollars.”
Jay hoped that Bill Gates didn’t have hidden cameras filming him at this moment,
because he was convinced that he must have had the stupidest expression imaginable frozen on
his face. He tried to move—but he couldn’t. He was utterly, completely, and totally, frozen. He
was an immovable statue of granite.
Bill Gates continued talking. “My guess is that by the time you’re my age, your net
worth will be four or five times greater than mine is right now.”
Without warning, the unthinkable happened: Jay burst into tears and started bawling like
a baby. He abandoned all reserve, and cried so deeply, he lost all sense of his surroundings.
Suddenly, he missed Amy as never before. He missed his unborn daughter, and could not
imagine enjoying such wealth without his wife—who only now, for the first time, seemed so
completely dead to him. He wanted to hold Amy in his arms and bathe in her congratulatory
kisses, he wanted to share his joy with her, his promising future—THEIR promising future—he
missed the only beloved he had ever known. The depth of his loss was inextricably upon him,
and rather than celebrating, he sobbed inconsolably with the pain of remorse... as a rather
confused Bill Gates looked on helplessly.
When Jay regained his composure, the two men spent almost an hour talking about
details, as well as personal feelings, and even trivial topics. Gates invited Jay to dinner, but the
younger man declined, and begged for time alone. “Perhaps another time then,” said Bill. “My
wife Melinda very much wants to meet you.”
Over the next three days, Jay returned to the Microsoft campus daily, for meetings,
consultations, and several more demonstrations of the cape. He met Mrs. Gates, visited Bill and
Melinda’s home, and also spent an hour with their kids. During all this time, he was constantly
tempted to phone California and share with his family the incredible news. But he restrained
himself, and decided to have a family gathering once he was back in Berkeley.
www.TollyBurkan.com
149
Up until now, Jason had only confided in Jim Baxter. No one else knew that he was
meeting with the richest man in the world. So when Jay invited Janet, Christian, Ryan, Travis,
Nick and Amy’s parents to gather at Janet’s house, everyone was oblivious as to what it was
about. The meeting was scheduled a few days after Jay returned from Redmond.
When the day arrived, the only ones to be on time were Janet, Christian and Ryan. Jay
glanced at his watch. Just then, his cell phone chirped. “We’re almost there.” It was Nick’s
voice. “Are my in-laws there yet?”
“Not yet,” Jay said.
“We’re on Shattuck Avenue. See you in five minutes.”
“Travis and Nick are a few minutes away,” Jay announced to his family.
Again a phone rang, this time the wall phone in the dining room. Janet answered it, and
when she hung up she said, “I guess the traffic is pretty heavy, but the Cutlers are on their way
and will be here soon.”
Nick and Travis arrived, laughing as they stumbled through the door. Ryan thought they
were either enjoying a very funny private joke, or had been smoking some killer weed. They
were both in great moods, and Ryan sniffed the air to see if he could detect the odor of pot.
Nothing!
“What makes you guys so giddy tonight?” Ryan queried his friends.
Travis said, “Well you know we really never had a formal honeymoon since we got
married last February. So we just booked ourselves a vacation.”
“A honeymoon,” Nick corrected.
“Where are you boys going?” Christian asked.
“We’re going to Grand Cayman in the Caribbean,” Travis giggled.
“What’s so funny?” Janet inquired.
“Well,” Nick began, “there’s a town in Grand Cayman called ‘Hell.’ That’s the name of
the town... really. There is even a Post Office, and you can mail letters from Hell; and they will
have an official postmark that shows the letter was sent from Hell.”
Everyone found this amusing, and a lightness filled the air as each person enjoyed a
laugh. Travis prompted the laughter even further when he added, “My parents always thought
I’d go to hell because I’m gay.” He said this with a good-natured smile, for everyone present
knew that Travis and Amy’s parents had long ago come to fully accept their son, and found Nick
www.TollyBurkan.com
150
to be a great addition to their family. Travis and Amy’s parents had grown and changed
remarkably over the past few years, and all present felt admiration and respect for both Mr. and
Mrs. Cutler.
The doorbell rang, and after greetings and hugs, the meeting commenced in Janet and
Christian’s living room.
Jay started slowly, describing the implications of wireless transmission. He went on to
reveal pertinent facts about the cape. He focused on his words, which had all been thought-out
for days—but periodically, he looked at the rapturous expressions on everyone’s face, and he
was tickled by the anticipation of delivering each forthcoming installment in the tale. No one
asked questions. No one dared interrupt what was happening. As Jay continued, eyeballs around
the room grew larger, and jaws slackened, until they were agape.
By the time Jay broached the subject of his recent trip, and described his meetings with
Bill Gates, none of his listeners was breathing. He went on, and the story continued to unfold.
“Since I’ve returned, Baxter helped me set up a special account,” Jay was saying. “The
funds arrived this afternoon.” He still hadn’t told them the exact figure. He completed his
narration by simply saying he had sold the U.S. rights to his discoveries to the founder of
Microsoft. There were more details, if his listeners were interested, but Jay had already received
a cash advance. “The money is in the bank.” Jay was hoping someone would play the foil and
ask “How much?” But everyone was too stunned to speak.
At last, Ryan asked, “How much?”
“Fifteen billion dollars.”
Amy’s mother wet her pants.
“And that’s just the beginning,” Jay said, as he outlined the highlights of his deal with
Bill Gates.
Janet helped Amy’s mother get cleaned and changed, since they wore the same size
clothes. Christian brewed a pot of coffee and took some treats from the freezer. He called to
Amy’s father and said, “Help me set the table. Let’s make this a real celebration.” Ryan, Travis
and Nick flocked around Jay. “What are you going to do now?” Ryan asked his brother.
“Truthfully, I hadn’t even thought about that. Until the money showed up in the bank
today, I dared not think that any of this was really happening. But now that I hear about your trip
to Cayman,” Jay turned and faced Travis, “would it be too tacky if I came along—I mean it’s
your honeymoon?”
Nick jumped right in, “You want to join us in Hell? I think that would be great fun.
Travis and I can help you plan how you’re gonna spend billions of dollars.” Travis nodded his
agreement.
www.TollyBurkan.com
151
Then, Travis turned to Ryan and invited him along as well. “Come... join us,” was all he
said.
“No,” Ryan replied. “I just met a girl—but I’ll tell you ‘bout that another time.”
“Rin! You never told me about this girl.”
Ryan joked with his brother, saying that the elder of the two, “wasn’t exactly available
very much lately.”
Meanwhile, Nick and Travis were making devilish plans about what they would do with
Jay once they all arrived in Hell.
www.TollyBurkan.com
152
Chapter Forty-one: Living the Dream
Before Jason embarked for Hell, he wanted to have a long talk with Michael. The night
before his departure, he found himself in the same old discussion he had had with the dragon so
many times before. “What is the nature of reality?” Michael was saying.
The old wizard leaned on his staff and said with resignation, “As old and as wise as I am,
Michael, I am no closer to the answer. Since Amy died, my days feel less real than my nights.
There’s no question but that I really prefer this reality with you over the other.”
“Has it ever occurred to you,” Michael asked, “that perhaps this is not a dream at all?
Maybe this is reality, and when you open your eyes each morning, you are slipping into a
dream? Or perhaps, they are both just two possible realities in an infinite plane of possibilities?”
Jay was preparing to answer, when a familiar voice caught him by surprise. “Jay.” He
turned, and Amy stood there, just behind him. “Well old man,” she said as she grinned, “you
might be spending your days in Hell with Nick and my brother, but you’re spending your nights
with me.”
Jason thought he was beyond surprising. But the sight of Amy stunned him. He was
about to throw down his staff and embrace her, when he suddenly became aware of the fact that
he was a decrepit, old man—while Amy was a vibrant youth.
Michael read Jason’s mind and quickly said, “Jason, you aren’t an old man. In this
world, your feelings create who you are. When you feel old and wise, you appear to be an
ancient, old man. As you grew here—mentally, emotionally and spiritually—quite quickly, I
might add, you constantly felt older than your years. But Jason, you know that this reality
includes all kinds of magic. Just change how you feel about yourself, and your form will change
too.”
Michael’s words reminded Jay of an e-mail he had received about four or five years
before: “Create the world you dream with every choice you make.” And a radiant, young, and
handsome Jason Wagner stepped forward and embraced an equally radiant, young, and
handsome Amy Wagner.
After a long and passionate hug, spiced with many equally passionate kisses, Jason
turned to Michael. “There’s much I’d like to say right now,” he began, but stopped and simply
said, “Grab this!” Jason then sent the dragon a direct transmission—and Michael smiled.
The white dragon looked Jason directly in the eyes, cleared his throat, and said, “I think
it’s time for me to show you what I used to look like.”
And there stood Jason’s father.
www.TollyBurkan.com
153