The Adventures of Tex & Blae-Lok – 5

Blae-Lok had told me it would be a long journey, so I prepared a knapsack with a few extra clothes, some toiletries and other minor provisions — like snacks. I didn’t know what June Bugs ate, but I didn’t think I wanted to try it. Hey, I get nauseous just smelling broccoli and have to run for the toilet if someone drops a clump of brussel sprouts on my plate! Bug food? Oh, no no no! I had some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, some packs of Ritz crackers and some bubble gum to keep me happy. We walked out the door and I headed for my silver Honda hatchback with Blae-Lok perched on my left shoulder. When I pulled out my keys and reached for the door, Blae-Lok said, “Tex, what are you doing?”

“Uh, opening the car door, Blae-Lok. It’s easier to get in that way.”

“We won’t need your car, Tex.” I felt him smile. But it was a different kind of smile, one I had not felt before.

“Oh, no, my friend,” I bristled. “I told you that I am not a walker. Plus, you told me it wouldn’t take that long, so I figured your people were camped out somewhere just a quick car ride away. If that’s not the case, well, we had better …” Then I stopped. A weird cloud had appeared on the horizon, dark and foreboding. It topped the far ridge and seemed to slide with a quick, easy grace just above the ground; as it grew closer, it shimmered in hues of green and blue and red, tinged in some darker color … brown perhaps, or …” and my eyes widened. A light “buzz” accompanied this “whatever” and fear rose in me like a living thing. The buzz grew to a deep thrum, and the cloud of colors coalesced into an enormous mass of June Bugs! I opened my mouth to scream when I was suddenly covered in calm. A physical calm that draped over me and in me, and I heard Blae-Lok, deep, deep in my head.

“Everything is okay, Tex,” I heard him say. “There is nothing to be afraid of. These are friends, Tex. My friends, and now they are your friends, too.” I smiled. I needed more friends. Lor …whatever was constantly telling me to get out and make some new friends. But I don’t think she would like it if I brought this bunch home for punch and pinochle. That image made me smile more, and I could feel Blae-Lok laugh.

Something tightened around me, gently pinning my arms to my side. “Oh, a hug,” I said. My grandmother had been a great hugger, but these guys were running a close second. “Oooo, that’s nice, I said. “Do I get a cookie, too?” Momma Mae made the best cookies.

“No cookies, Tex.” I heard my old buddy Blae-Lok say. “Maybe later.”

“Okay, Blae.” I said. “Have you met my grandmother? She likes bugs. She told me once that when she was a little girl, they had to eat bugs sometimes, and she liked ‘em.”

“I don’t think I’d like your grandmother, Tex. Now how about you just relax and take a little nap. We’re going to go for a ride now.”

I felt myself being lifted off the ground, like I was in a very small, tight elevator. And then ...>snooooore!<

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When I awoke, I lay flat on my back on something very soft that smelled like newmown grass. I opened my eyes and saw I was in a huge bubble of stars, more stars than I had seen since I was a child in Waco, watching them from the roof of my house on North 11th Street. “Wow,” I said. You’ve probably noticed I say that a lot. I heard an odd noise and turned my head to the right and saw an army of June Bugs staring at me. “Yie yie yiee!” I shouted aloud, and jerked to a sitting position. I had started to say,“Yikes,” another favorite word of mine, but it’s a leftover from my childhood that makes me seem … childish. So I stifled it and retreated to an old favorite.

“Wow!” I deserved to say that a million times. I slowly looked around. I was surrounded by June Bugs. June Bugs of every stripe (and some were striped!) and color. Some were the familiar brown, but others were green, or multicolored with an iridescent sheen. Some even had a kind of light brown fur sticking out all around the bottom of their shells. Most of them were a bit over an inch long, some as much as two — but later I would see the “big guys” — hunters and army guys more than three inches long who must have weighed a pound! In their natural armor, they looked like they could have picked up my Honda and thrown it over my house. Big Boys, yes siree!

“Uh, hello” I squeaked. I even gave them a tiny wave. None said a word or made a sound of any kind or even flinched. I was beginning to think I was in a very strange dream — but I wasn’t afraid at all, which is what made the dream so weird. Then the calming voice of my old friend Blae-Lok came into my head.

“Have a nice rest, Tex?” asked Blae-Lok. And his voice sounded a lot like Walter Cronkite, a great newscaster from the old days who I had watched many times deliver good, bad, old, and funny news in the same, sane voice of reason that he always used to paint the news. I saw movement to my left, and saw Blae-Lok perched upon my shoulder.

“You should change your name to Walter,” I told him.

“Wal-der is my third cousin,” he replied.

“You sure have a lot of numbers in your family.”

“We have a large family, Tex.”

I glanced around. “So I see. These all yours?” I whispered, “There must be a thousand surrounding me.”

“Oh, some are family, other are colleagues, friends, you know. Everyone is curious. And there are twenty-eight thousand, four hundred and twenty of them here.”

”420?” I said, and laughed. “Now, that makes sense.” Bla-Lok seemed puzzled, especially when I added, “Is this a joint effort? Har har!” Now he was just confused and I felt I had jabbed his brain enough. “Sorry, sorry.,” and waved a hand in a dismissive gesture.

“28,000, huh?” I leaned over to whisper very quietly, “Are you sure these aren’t statues? Not a one of them has stirred since I woke up.”

“We don’t feel the need to move around if it isn’t necessary, Tex.” He waved a mental hand at them. “They can all hear everything we say, Tex. If we want them to. And for now, we do.”

“And they all understand English?” I asked incredulously. Blae-Lok laughed.

“We’re not speaking English, Tex. You are hearing and speaking English. Because that is your language, I am speaking and hearing ‘Junie.’ Actually, Tex, neither of us is speaking any language at all.”

“Huh?” This was far beyond me now. I heard the opening refrain for that old sci-fi series, “The Twilight Zone” playing in the background.

“I don’t get it, Blae.” He took the shortened version of his name in stride, but was curious. It was the second time I had said it. I could see him file it away for another conversation later.

“Tex, in order to say something, you first must conceptualize it.” He saw my brow furrow like a newly plowed field. “Look. Let’s say you want to say ‘bird.’ Before you can say it you have to know what you’re going to say, right?” I nodded. So far so good. “Okay,” he continued, “so you see ‘bird’ in your head before you ever say it.” I nodded again. “The concept of ‘bird’ triggers the word you say. But I don’t hear the word, because you haven’t really said it, except to yourself.” My eyes began to glaze. Blae continued, undaunted.

“You have thought the concept to me, Tex. And not just any bird, the exact bird that you saw: crow, hummingbird, whatever! That concept of ‘bird’ in my brain is the duplicate of yours and I call it ‘bird’ in my language. Concept to speech, speech to concept, and together it is language. That is the chain that creates understanding. We just eliminated the “speech” part and talked “Concept.” I saw what you saw. Got it?” And “Boing!” The light flickers and then shines brightly.

“Ohhhhh!” I said. Then I paused and said (you got it) “Wow!”

“Wow,” said Blae-Lok, “indeed. Tell me, how are you feeling, “T?”

I grinned widely. “Well, I’m feeling pretty good, Blae.”

“So tell me, T, what’s the deal with the shortened versions of our names? I don’t pick that up from you when you do it.”

“Oh, it has nothing to do with the saying of your name, ‘Blae,’ old buddy. It’s just harder to type; it takes more time, and this is a long story.” Ol’ Blae seemed puzzled. I was impressed, and laughed. “Don’t worry, Blae-Lok. I don’t think you will understand this time. Maybe when all is said and done.

“Wow,” said Blae, and it was, indeed easier. I was proud of him for the way he said ‘Wow,’ too. It sounded very natural. Then I looked around at all the June Bug statues. They still had not moved so much as a whisker, if they had any. I tried to see if the ones nearest me did, but failed to find any facial hair, and for a moment I saw, in my head, a huge June Bug standing in front of my bathroom mirror, all lathered up with a straight razor in one, uh, claw? He gave a quick swipe and whipped shaving cream all over the mirror. I felt a “Whaaat?” from Blae, and laughed. This was becoming a fun outing. And I had been worried about it!

“What was that all about?” Blae asked.

I laughed again. “Let it go, my friend. I don’t think I could explain it.” And I giggled a little. He sighed, and I felt his resignation, with a hint of, “I’ll ask him later.”

“Okay, T,” time to get up, we have a lot to do.”

“Okay, Blae. Hey, that makes a nice rhyme, ‘okay, Blae, whaddaya say? Today’s the day!”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, that’s it! Get into it, my fr …” but he cut me off.

“Tex?” he quizzed softly, “are you alright?

“What? Of course! In fact, I’m feeling quite well. Very rested. Why?” He looked at me strangely — if he could do that. But I felt the strangeness in my head, overlapping his question. It was a curious feeling, but I think it meant I was really getting a handle on this method of talking. “I don’t think I can explain it, Blae. It’s a human thing. If you don’t get it now, you may never get it. But that’s alright. It’s nothing to worry about.” I felt him sigh.

“Well,” (with a mental shrug), “it appears you are mentally and physically ‘Tex,’” he said. “So get up, we have much to do and see.”

“Well, all right!” I was eager for this! I had been looking forward to it with a combination of curiosity, happiness and fear. I stood and glanced around.

“Wow!” Now that I had the view of a taller man, I could see beyond the small group of bugs that had encircled me. Blae-Lok wasn’t kidding. I knew he couldn’t do that, but still … and without thinking, I pursed my lips and made a short, admiring whistle, sorta like, “woo, hoo!” and all hell broke loose! All the “JBs” around me jumped and burst into flying, crawling and scuttling bugs! I heard a loud, horrible scream in my head — and some of it in my ears — that went along with a lot of scrabbling, buzzing and wing flapping. Naturally, I fell to the ground, hands clapped tightly over my ears, and curled into a ball smaller than the right eye of a gnat.

“Tex!” Blae-Lok yelled. I barely heard him over the great kerfuffle. “Did you do that?!” He must have heard me mentally nod. “WHY DID YOU DO THAT?”

“It was just a tiny whistle!” I tried to think it meekly, but I’m not sure the meek part got through. I heard Blae-Lok make a kind of physical growl. We both paused to let all the commotion subside. I always wondered what the term “pregnant silence” meant, and I found out at last. It was what you get just before you have an ugly baby. Blae-Lok just had one, in his brain. I saw it, and it looked like me, all feathered and screaming.

“Oh, come on, Blae! I didn’t mean anything! Geez Louise!” A long silence washed over us, then Blae spoke softly.

“Loo-Eese” is my 5th child, T.” He was much calmer now. I tilted up my head and looked around. We were very much alone. Blae must have seen it through my eyes, for he then said quietly, “Wow.” Another pause, and I started laughing, gently, then soon I was at full gale. I rolled onto my back, tears in my eyes. At last I could speak again.

“Do you have any ‘Ran-Dees?’” I asked.

“Eighth uncle,” said Blae. “Very Ug-Lee.” And we both howled.

END CHAPTER FIVE