Kiss Off, We're Gone

You do know of course that finding someone to write with is difficult to say the least. There's no one there most of the time when you get a great idea and want to share it with others, when you want their collaborative input and inspiration; their passion and partnership. Most do not want to commit. So, . . . to them I say, kiss off ! That's right,
kiss off. I'll make this happen without you. Been thinking very seriously of creating my own co-writer anyway. A person of unknown and unrealized potential. So welcome to you . . . Hanna Goodwin ! Let us begin.

Hanna : Thank you Siege. It's really good to be here. Before . . I just wasn't. Now, . . I am. Why don't you tell them a little something about me Siege. Please ?

She sits in an old rocker on the front porch of her small home every night, trying her damndest to read what the stars are trying to teach her, knowing that it's probably a loss cause. High on a hill that overlooks her small home-town below, she is immune to the typical light distortion caused by man's technology, so the night sky remains dark yet clear, and the millions of beams of light cascade across her face like silent strobes. It is her thinking time, her quiet contemplation time, when she tries to understand how things . . are. Hanna Goodwin is a dreamer, maybe like you or me, but with an intensity that would rival most devotees. Her strength can sometimes be seen in her aura of clear red disposition. Just past forty-five, she is lean, with graying hair and greenish-blue eyes that still sparkle every time she smiles. Her face is beautifully plain, but softly so. She could still turn heads in a heartbeat if she put half a mind to it. She is a woman of good disposition and common sense.

(TB CONT'D)

And . . she just wanted someone to communicate with. That's not asking too much, is it ? She doesn't think so.


Hanna : There's this guy, I keep seeing him in my dreams every other night. He's a dreamer too, living on the left coast I think. Now and then I believe we bump into each other when we're studying the night skies. I feel his vibes.
It's a spiritual hook-up. I'm there and . . then he's there too! We ask the same questions and wait for answers that never come, at least we haven't felt them come yet. I'm not really sure what he looks like but I feel that he's probably about my age and has similar likes and dislikes, and a strong yearning "to know".

It was always like this when he got the urge. The tension . . with the excitement. A craving, if you will. And lately he found himself giving in to it more often than he had . . ever before. Maybe . . maybe it was an addiction type of thing. He wondered if he could stop when he wanted to. Probably not. Ryan continued to drive east on the freeway, heading to Sunrise Highway up in the mountains. He had found, ( quite by accident ), a location that afforded him peace of mind. And in this day and age that was something quite remarkable. It was designated a "look-out" spot, because of the view he supposed, but he knew it as his contemplation space, the place where he could get the closest to the stars in the night sky, and think.
Ryan McDougal was a dreamer. A very good dreamer. A dreamer that "felt" his way through questions asked in sincerity and answers that waited to be learned. Up here in the mountains, away from the blaring lights and sounds of southern California, he was able to see the night sky in all of its magnificence, and become one with it. To think, and then talk to the heavens. Think-talk ! Yeah, that's what it was! That's what he was hooked on . ."think-talk"!
He exited at the off-ramp, turned left, and drove straight to the area, hoping no one else would be there. Entering, he found he had the whole place to himself, and smiled.

From the passenger seat he grabbed his laptop and quickly typed in "Hanna ?"

She read the message again, sat back in the chair, and exhaled slowly. A one-word message, "Hanna?"

She typed "yes", and waited.

"Hanna?"

"Yes".

"Is it raining there?"

She typed "yes, it just started about half an hour ago." "How did you know?"

"I can feel it . . . somehow. And you weren't there at, you know, our meeting place."

"The cloud cover was too thick to see anything."

"It's clear out here, clear as a bell. Guess what ? I've decided that I'd like to meet you in person. I think I'll drive back there, maybe next week, if that's okay with you. What do you say ?"

"I say I love it when it rains."


"By the way, my name is Ryan."

"I know."

Storms come and go but this latest one seemed to have no inclination to leave. Hanna couldn't remember the last time it had rained continuously for eight days. Nothing but steady, warm rain since she had chatted with Ryan! How strange! She had not been able to dreamwalk, because the stars remained hidden. She felt deprived and frustrated, like an addict unable to get a fix. She paced indoors, and walked in the rain outdoors, getting soaked to the bone two or three different times. Enjoying it, but hoping sooner or later that the stars would come out again.


When the phone rang, she picked it up and and quickly said, "About time."

"How did you know it was me?"

"Look, I don't like too many people and I rarely get calls. It had to be you."

"I'm about thirty minutes away. See you soon."

"Yes, soon."

It is a given that no collaboration , formal collaboration that is, is occurring in this thread as we proceed.

There will be a meeting of two disillusioned souls, two individuals who find solace being together as one.

Hanna watched as the truck made its way around this bend, then that bend, slowly coming to the top of the hill where her house sat, and she had to admit her curiosity was piqued a tad or two when the truck came to a stop in front of her porch and the driver got out. He was a man of medium height, about six foot, with shiny gray hair and a quick smile. His body was lean but not skinny, his eyes brown, his gaze steady. Walking right up to her, he held out his hand and said, "Hi Hanna, I'm Ryan."
"Yes", she replied, "yes you are."
They stood there looking at each other, seeing each other for the first time, but knowing they had been together spiritually at least five times. A feeling of friendship and comradery swept over the two of them, a confident feeling they both enjoyed until, at last, they finished shaking hands.
"Come on, get your stuff and I'll show you around the estate!"

Ryan had to laugh at that, seeing the small house in all of its entirety sitting right in front of him.

Hanna suddenly felt a happiness she hadn't felt in years. There was a spring in her step. And laughter.
And . . . and it was no longer raining ! The rain had stopped !

Ryan had to admit that Hanna's property seemed to be perfectly suited for what the two of them had in mind. Hers was the only house up here on top of the hill, affording not only a generous view, but also a feeling of secure privacy. Out behind the house, a slow rise of some four hundred feet led to the highest point in Elbert County. And it was there on her neighbor's farm, where the powersource was located, that they needed to go. Sometime within the next few days, for sure.

They sat on Hanna's front porch, eating. She had found some quick snacks to soothe their hunger pangs, consisting of beef jerky, cheese wedges, canned pears, and a bottle of very chilled red wine. As she filled their glasses with wine the second time she asked, "So let me get this straight, we're supposed to go on a night patrol over to the monument, find the buried capsule, and recover some kind of powersource that might or might not be there, . . . all in the space of one evening ?" "Do you have any idea how crazy that sounds ?"
Ryan shook his head but didn't laugh at all. Instead, looking directly into her eyes, he said, "You must have seen it too, didn't you ? In your "walk" ?"
"I did, but until I discussed it with you a few minutes ago I could have sworn it was just a figment of my imagination or something. But I also knew that you knew all about it. Waiting for you to get here and confirm everything was an ordeal all by itself. But I feel better now . . you . .me . . the same exact dream . . wow! What are the chances ?"
"Chance, I believe, has nothing to do with this my dear. I think we've been chosen . . somehow."

"Can you pass over the cheese wedges please, they're pretty good. Is that Cracker-Barrel?" Hanna smiled and said "You're pretty "sharp". It is Cracker-Barrel. Here you go."
And with that, the plate of neatly sliced cheese rose slowly up into the air and floated over to Ryan's side of the table. "Have you got it?",she asked.
"I've got it", he said.
The plate remained stationary approximately eighteen inches above the table. And then individual pieces began to
lift up off of the platter and float down and land on Ryan's dish, as if by magic! Hanna laughed uncontrollably. She watched as Ryan finished with the platter and carefully let it descend back to the middle of the table.
"It's hell being a mutant isn't it?", Hanna exclaimed.
"Oh, very much so",replied Ryan.

And then the two of them began to really laugh, and the napkins and silverware danced in the air !

Remember, these two might, indeed, be "chosen". Mutants or not, they possessed "something".

"The purpose of life is to discover your gift. The meaning of life is to give your gift away." (D.Viscott)


One down, one to go.

The Double 7 Farms were owned by Wayne Mullinex's family, and Hanna had met them some four years ago at a community bake sale. Quiet and down-to-earth, Wayne was a farmer from birth and his love for the land and the livestock showed through whenever he got involved in discussions about the neighborhood. Hanna had been lucky enough to catch him alone once and had asked him about the Guidestones. In a calm response, he told her that he had nothing to do with the structure, that he had only sold the five acres to the town because they had convinced him that it was the only feasible spot to locate the unique granite slabs. He had been honored, actually. Hanna had also asked him about the time capsule, and that was the first time she learned about the powersource, supposedly buried beneath the capsule, but never referenced or mentioned by anyone!

Seems one night, late, about two months after selling the land to the town, Wayne was drawn down to the site by strange digging sounds. It was dark, about 1:30 in the morning, and he wondered why anyone would be working at that time and in the foggy damp mist blanketing the whole valley. He arrived just in time to see the crane lower a sphere into the ground. The sphere appeared to be electrically alive, sparks emanating from within, giving off a steady white light that streamed shadows over the crew intent on burying it. As soon as the sphere went below ground level the sparking stopped and the light disappeared. Quickly the men lowered a metal cover, and then they lowered the time capsule. The hole was filled in with dirt and the crew packed up their tools and drove away. The time was 03:15. Wayne waited in the dark for maybe twenty minutes, then went home and back to bed. The next day he asked the crew about the sphere, wondering what the heck it could be. Nobody remembered anything about the sphere ! They all acknowledged the time capsule being buried, but no one, . . . nobody, remembered even seeing a sphere.

Wayne had related this personal story to Hanna only because she was very insistent, and because she was his new neighbor. That had been some years back, and he believed he had never said anything about it again to anyone. He had his credibility to think of, with his long-time neighbors and friends. Besides, who would believe it?

Hanna thought the time had come to relate this experience to Ryan. She poured them more wine and began.

And then they slowly put together a plan to recover the powersource. Alone they were mere oddities, with a special talent to move solid objects with their minds. Together, this talent increased two-fold and the speed with it. But with the powersource, their power could grow to limitless bounds! Not only would they be able to move things with their minds but they'd be able to "change" things . . . just by willing it to happen. And anyways, wasn't that the reason they were here in the first place, to bring about change ?

It would have to happen on a rainy night. The rain would keep the looky-loos away and hopefully the die-hard NWO protesters too.

Ryan and Hanna set it up for three days hence.

The next two days consisted of training. Repetitious, tedious, . . but necessary. During the daylight hours they decided on what they should bring along with them. Backpacks with back-ups. Extra flashlights. Batteries. Gloves. At night they practiced simulated hikes from the back of Hanna's house to the pasture where the monument was located. They timed themselves, taking into consideration the time it took to get there, the time needed to find the exact location of the capsule and powersource, the time needed to dig it up, the time needed to replace the capsule and cover it back up, and finally the time it would take to make their way back undetected. Broken down it came to approximately four hours total, give or take twenty minutes for any problems they might encounter. On their second night of reconnaissance it began to rain again, making the conditions nearly identical to how they would be on the night of the raid.
Back on Hanna's porch from their last go-around, they sat under the small roof and listened to the sounds associated with the rain and the night. No words passed between them, but they were in a mental discussion that would've woken the dead had it been aloud. Just as quickly it was over and they went inside to dry off and make a big batch of hot, buttery popcorn! Tomorrow it was on !

Mystery surrounded the Guidestones from the beginning. Although the monument was unveiled in 1980, much remains unknown about its creators, its purpose, its funding, . . . just about everything, to this day. As far as the existence of the powersource, even less is known. Was it Rosicrucians that buried the powersource with the time capsule ? Maybe even they didn't understand how to use the powersource, and put it there to be discovered and used sometime in the future when reason once again directed mankind. Maybe.

Ryan and Hanna decided to call the powersource "Interface". Somehow they had seen in their dreams that one of the functions of the powersource was to "react-with" people. Thus, "Interface".

They were certain it was an energy storage unit. Could it be some kind of portal ? A gift, given . . in hope ?

They also knew that Interface would work "through" them. With their extraordinary abilities hooked up to the Interface, their will-power would grow almost beyond comprehension. They would receive energy and then be able to . . . what . . . generate thought ? Undistracted pure thought ! The longer they were able to hold a positive thought, with the help of the Interface, the stronger the energy around them would become !

As they drifted off to sleep that last night they wondered at that magnificence of it all.

The next day brought continuing rain, as predicted. In the afternoon the winds picked up, making the air chilly, the ground cold and slippery. Hanna and Ryan double-checked their gear, everything from shovels to flashlights to the five-foot long digging bar that Ryan would be carrying. (It weighed a good eight pounds). Everything seemed in order. At dinnertime they ate a hearty beef stew with a side of hot, fresh-baked bread and real butter. The rain continued and they sat around cat-napping until the time was right.

At 7:30 they began to dress. Darkness moved in quickly, as if anticipating their needs. At 8:00 they were out the back door and on their way, Hanna leading the way into the wet woods. She followed the practiced route slowly, careful not to lose her way even though the wind shifted branches back and forth in front of her the whole way, hiding the next step and then the next step after that. When they reached the pasture forty minutes later they stopped to rest and surveyed the grounds of the monument from a distance. It appeared to be all clear. They checked their watches and realized they were ten minutes behind schedule. Jumping out into the clearing, they ran together over to the Guidestones.
Hanna quickly adjusted her flashlight at the nineteen-foot tall structure and searched for the key pointing north. From here they headed west until they came to a horizontal tablet that listed all of the explanations for the Guidestones and the reference to the time capsule that was buried six feet "under this spot". Immediately Ryan began to dig, as Hanna kept watch and shined the lights. Rain swept over them in a deluge !

Ryan had predicted an hour to dig up the Interface. After an hour and fifteen minutes he had only dug down to four feet, because the rainwater kept seeping into the hole, making him bail water instead of digging down. Hanna saw the problem and taking up the shovel she began to dig small trenches horizontally to channel the water away from the hole. Ryan made better progress, soon striking something metallic below him. Ten minutes later he pulled the steel box containing the time capsule out of the ground and sat down on the side of the hole to rest. Hanna motioned for him to climb out and hold the flashlight and rest for awhile while she tried to find the Interface. No such luck ! They switched positions again and this time, with a little help from his digging bar, Ryan popped the top off of still another metal box. Prying it open, he reached in blindly with both hands and grabbed the heavy object that was wrapped in purple fabric, pulling it out quickly and handing it up to Hanna. As soon as the Interface came up above ground level, it came alive ! Hanna gasped as beams of light suddenly shot out through the cloth ! It began to vibrate and it was so heavy Hanna thought for sure she would drop the thing back down into the muddy hole. She fought to stand erect, oblivious of the blowing rain. With her other hand she unfolded the cloth and bared the Interface! It appeared to be solid gold ! Heavy ! And still vibrating terribly ! It was shaped like a crescent moon, light beams emanating from it constantly !

She put her bare hand on top of the object . . . touched it . . . and immediately it went still and quiet. No lights !
She exhaled for the first time in what seemed like ten minutes !

Ryan was a little stunned at what Hanna had just done, but only momentarily. Quickly he found the steel box with the time capsule and lowered it back down into the hole. The rain pelted him as he pushed dirt and mud back into the hole, trying to fill it. Lightning struck numerous times all around them! And then came the thunder ! Crashing sounds, loud and intimidating. One after the other. Ryan stood up and began to pack up all of their gear, until everything was accounted for. He helped Hanna put her backpack on and then climbed into his. Hanna had the Interface under one arm and a flashlight in the other. He grabbed the shovel and digging bar and they headed out of the pasture, towards the woods and safety. Hanna led the way, not really needing the flashlight because of the constant lightning strikes but not taking any chances either. The rain poured out of the clouds as they made their way through the trees and bushes, like an over-due flood on long parched, begging land!
Twenty-five minutes later Hanna could see her back door. As she turned to tell Ryan, a bolt of lightning struck so close that both of them were knocked off their feet and into cold puddles of water. Nothing like having cold water poured down your back to wake your butt up ! Laughing, they sat up and pointed at each other and laughed some more, until they were drowned out by the heavy thunderclap. Their laughter turned to nervous twittering as they realized they had been lucky and that the storm was now directly over them. Up again, they jogged the rest of the way to the cottage, threw open the door, went inside, and securely closed the door behind them.
And then they laughed some more.

Hot coffee with one shot of Kahlua, one shot of Brandy, and tons of whipped cream . . . does make a difference.
It was enough to put them easily to sleep, as the rains continued.

The next morning . . .
"IN OTHER NEWS, THE HEAVY THUNDERSTORM EXPERIENCED BY EVERYONE IN THE COUNTY LAST NIGHT SHOULD BE DISSIPATING OVER THE NEXT FEW DAYS. LIGHTNING STRIKES HAVE BEEN REPORTED EVERYWHERE IN THE COUNTY, INCLUDING ONE THAT HIT THE GUIDESTONES MONUMENT,
LEAVING A TWO-FOOT DEEP HOLE AND CRACKED LAWNS. NO MAJOR DAMAGE REPORTED TO THE GUIDESTONES THEMSELVES."

Hanna : Hey Siege, still no collaboration on this yet, hey ?

Not so far, but that's okay, the fun's just beginning. What do you think of Ryan ?

Hanna : He's awesome Siege! His power is equal to mine, maybe even greater!
Plus he's good-looking and kind of sexy at times.



Ryan : I heard that! What do you mean . . . at times?


END OF PART ONE