*****
Fortunately, the ditch between the field and the road was a shallow one; I couldn’t see a culvert in either direction. The road was dirt, but smooth enough that Harry could work on the innards of Mark II. Somehow, Fred inveigled himself in there, too, while Jeff, scowling, kept an eye on the road ahead and behind. Soon enough, we came to one of those signs which seed salesmen give to the farmers, to advertise the variety. This one read “Moncarto SG-37b”. My heart gave a large shudder. The company I knew, a multi-national giant, was “Monsanto”. Perhaps we hadn’t moved “when” so much as “where”. Alternate galaxies, parallel universes, all the usual sci-fi fare rushed through my mind. I motioned to Jeff, and moved just ahead of Princess, keeping my voice low. Laura joined us.
“I’d been wondering about that ever since I couldn’t get a signal” Jeff said, pulling the multi-function phone out of his pocket.
“Its just a small change,” I said. “Can your phone scan for signals? Maybe the transmission or receive frequency is just a bit off.”
Jeff extended that odd-looking areal and pressed a few buttons. In just a few seconds, his face lit up. “Got one! I’ll try the office.”
Elation turned to gloom as the phone indicated no such number. “I’ll try the Ogdensburg office. It’s closer,” Jeff muttered, keying quickly. Again, no such number.
“Maybe it’s the same as for the other things,” Laura suggested. “Just a little difference in the number.”
Jeff brightened again, and keyed madly. “This little program should search one number each side of each digit, and try them. Ah! Dyn-O-Tel?”
“That would be Dyn-A-Tel.” The phone was on speaker mode. “Jeff, what the hell are you and Harry up to!”
“G.W.? I thought you were in Kemptville...”
“I was, until the thunder storm. I had to do some quick thinking to explain to Mr. Jameson how I got to Ogdensburg only fifteen minutes after he had been speaking to me on the phone in beautiful downtown Kemtpville!” Acid dripped from his voice. “Get me out of here before I meet another version of myself!”
“We’d like to, G.W.,” Jeff said with scant patience, “But it’s the Mark II we’ve got here. We’re somewhere out in the countryside south of you. Soybeans, dirt road....”
“Could be anywhere. The Mark II doesn’t have enough power...”
“I know, I know. Some weird combination with that thunderstorm, I guess. Can we think of some way to boost from your location? You’ve got the power lines laid in already there, or at least our Ogdensburg did.”
“I’ll work on it.” Click. Apparently G.W. was a man of even more scant patience than Jeff. Jeff headed for Harry, Fred and the Mark II at a run.
Ashley Pony piped up, “Car behind!”
“Everyone to the right hand shoulder,” Mickey ordered, steering her minis onto the lightly gravelled edge. Instead of passing us, the vehicle slowed. We turned to look. A State Trooper. I could feel my complection get two shades redder.
The Trooper eyed us dubiously. “You folks need any help?” he asked. Oh, if he did but know!
“We’re practicing for the parade,” Mickey said with a winning smile. Ashley Pony and Kaylee nodded vigorously.
“What about that?” the Trooper asked, pointing to the Canadian flag draped over Petunia’s rump.
“”We’re saving the best for the parade. Wouldn’t want the real thing to get dirty before hand, now, would we?” Mickey offered. “The ponies need to get used to things flapping and spinning and twinkling, so they don’t get upset with all the crowds around.”
The Trooper gave a little shake of his head. “Well, you all be careful now. Those two,” he pointed at Ashley Drummer and Sarah, “should be wearing helmets.”
“We know,” Mickey said soothingly. “We just got out a bit farther than we had intended, and the girls were too tired to walk all the way back. We’ll be very careful.”
“What about that?” the Tooper asked, nodding at M II.”
“A Shriner Funny-Mobile,” Fred answered, grinning a huge clown grin at the Trooper. “Cute, isn’t it? The kids love the lights and the wind vanes.”
“All right, then,” the Trooper said somewhat dubiously, easing his foot onto the gas. “Have a nice day.” The car moved ahead. I could see his silhouette through the window, reaching for his microphone.
“Smile and wave, everyone,” I ordered, doing my best to look cheerful and thankful. We waited until he was out of sight, then moved the procession up to a jog.
Laura is an avid jogger, but I’m not. I puffed my way along until I thought my lungs would catch fire. When we reached the intersection of a paved road, I was relieved to see a sign pointing right, to OdgensbErg. Laura, Mickey, Jeff and I exchanged worried looks. Jeff pulled out his phone and called G.W. Their conversation made no sense to me at all, full of techno-jargon and equations. Harry clambered off the cart and joined in.
“Maybe the Kemptville unit needs to be operating, too,” he offered. “G.W., have you called there? Maybe someone will have gone in, after the lightning strike.”
“I’ll give it a try.” Click.
Two minutes later, Fred’s phone beeped. “Hello?”
“I was just talking to G.W.,’ came the very shaky voice over the speaker.
“Oh, God,” Jeff groaned.
“We’ve got to hurry. The Kemptville office is full of Volunteer Firefighters. I think I hear sirens in the distance here. Harry, did you digimatize the anphromilaters?”
“Yes. Try 2348 by 7T.4."
“Calibrating.” No click this time.
The air felt a little warmer around us. Ahead, I could see the outskirts of Ogdensberg. In the clear blue sky, one little cumulus cloud puffed into existence over a prominent transmission tower. Lights began to twinkle on the sides of Mark II, and two little propellor things extended, then stretched toward the large transmission tower. There was no traffic on this nice paved road. I wondered if the Trooper had had anything to do with that. My worry level increased by a couple of notches.
“How much longer?” Jeff asked into the phone.
“At least 5 minutes,” G.W said. “I’ll pass this along to, ah, G.W., the other one.”
A minute passed in silence. Two. Kaylee whispered something to Laura. Sara looked bluish around the lips. “We’d better get her back to her inhaler soon,” Laura murmured.
“Car behind,” the ever observant Ashley Pony called. Sure enough, in the far distance, I could see flashing lights – red, orange, blue. I couldn’t hear a siren, though.
A small industrial park was just ahead, on the left. Maybe we could get out of sight there, between some U-Store-It buildings. We turned off the road long before I could see more of the approaching vehicle than the flashing lights.
“Got it,” came the voice over the phone. “G.W., Kemptville is sending a ‘pull’. I’m boosting.” The cloud over Ogdensberg grew with amazing speed, and sprouted a little anvil top. A gust of wind whipped by us, and I looked up. A distortion in the air which made my eyes water.
Jeff, Harry and G.W. conversed urgently. From elbow-deep in the Mark II, Fred suggested, “There must be another factor involved.”
I remembered the sounds just before the lightning. “Drums. The Drummers were playing with echos. Sara, you and Ashley get down off the ponies, and start drumming between the doors of two storage compartments across from each other. Do you remember what rhythm you were doing before the lightning came?” They nodded and ran to comply. Sara sneezed loudly.
Patta-pum. Patta-patta-patta-pum. Not too far away, a security siren blared into life. Mickey scrambled out of her cart and went to stand at the minis’ heads. She motioned for Ashley Pony and Kaylee to dismount and come over to her.
“We’ll have all the Troopers in the county here in a minute or two,” Jeff snarled. “Homeland Security, too.” He looked up. A little smudge of white coalesced, evaporated, and coalesced again. It grew
rapidly, but didn’t look particularly threatening.
“Keep going,” Jeff urged Ashley Drummer and Sara as their rhythm faltered. “Put more into it!” The cloud grew, darkened. There was no lightning. I could hear a siren in the south, and two from the north, getting closer.
“It’s not enough,” Harry despaired, eyeing Mark II as it twinkled dazzlingly.
“What about the backfire?” I called. The sirens were closer still. I heard a screech of rubber on pavement as a vehicle slowed beside the entrance to the storage units.
Harry toed off a shoe, ran to the metal door beside Ashley Drummer, and wound up, slamming the shoe into the door with all his might.
Ka-blam!
*****
At least this time I knew I wasn’t deaf. The sounds of many feet running toward us, and of vehicle doors slamming shut, heralded the arrival of a herd of Police Officers and five paramedics in the gathering dusk. We were back in Kemptville, ours, I hoped. I scanned the storefronts for any anomalies, but saw nothing worse than an abundance of misplaced apostrophes glaring at me from the window of the convenience store, advertising “Lot’s and Lots’s of Video’s and DVD’s on Sale!”
I tried to brush away the hands of the Paramedic, then stopped. He was a rather nice looking young fellow. I glanced past him to see that all of our group had made the trip intact. Sara was sucking on an inhaler, steadied by another Paramedic. Ashley Pony and Kaylee still had Petunia and Princess. Star and Jingles, the miniature horses looked tired, but otherwise OK. The Pomeranian lay flat out in the back of the cart, panting heavily. Ted rushed over to hug Laura. Various relatives crowded around the girls and Mickey.
Two RCMP Officers and several Men In Black strode to Mark II, Harry, Jeff and Fred. “You’ll have to come with us, sirs,” said one of them. I tried desperately to catch Harry’s attention. I wanted to know if we had made it home. He had time for one brief nod for me, before a boom in the near distance made us all jump.
“”The fireworks!” Sarah said excitedly. Another boom echoed between the store fronts. Fred managed to reach into Mark II’s guts before one of the Men In Black could stop him. Mark II dimmed, and the propellers slowed to a stop. I heaved a sigh of relief. I wondered if the G.W.s were back in their respective domains.
“You’re good to go,” the Paramedic stated, his checks completed. I turned to head back to the parking lot for my truck, but a burly female Officer of the Ontario Provincial Police, Kemptville Division, caught me by the elbow. “You’ll have to give us a statement,” she said in a no nonsense tone. I could see Laura, and Mickey protesting about leaving her miniature horses, being escorted to other OPP cars. The children, it would seem, were to be allowed to go home with their parents.
Our little convoy of vehicles traveled to the new police station on the outskirts of town. I felt as though they asked me the same questions at least five times. I’m sure a few of the MIBs were listening in, too. It was nearly midnight by the time I got home, in my own truck, but followed at a discreet distance by an OPP cruiser.
The cover of the next week’s edition of the Kemptville Advance was splashed with pictures of children with red and white face paint eating hot dogs, the winning float in the parade, and the ever popular Llama Lady and her furry friends. The accompanying article (continued on the bottom of page 5) mentioned in the last paragraph that “Several horses ran away during the thunderstorm. All were found safe later in the afternoon.” The MIB were certainly trying to downplay the incident.
Another tiny article, wedged in under the Junior Bowling League scores on page nine, said that Dyn-O-Tel had closed down. The Mayor hoped that another high-tech company could be found to occupy the premises. The article didn’t mention the Ontario Provincial Police car parked under the only shade tree in the parking lot, or the sudden abundance of Men In Black who had been seen in various stores and restaurants around town.
Next year’s Canada Day Parade will have a long way to go to match this one.
*****
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