90.

   The giant paused and looked down at me. A wry smile crossed his face. “Go and tell your fellow morons what you have learned. Few of them have a clue to what’s going on and those who do are about as threatenin’ as mosquitoes buzzin’ around a bug light. The one thing you have on your side is history. You have to teach the morons history before it’s obliterated all together. The truth, little bugs just might save the world.”
   The Giant of the Atacama stepped down from the hills and lifted us into the balloon. He called up to us as we began to drift away. “There are some who will understand what you have seen and will tell you more. Continue your journey. Visit the matchmaker of Valparaiso. She will help you.”
   We slowly lifted into the night leaving the beaming giant behind us. “I like that guy.”, said Pat. “He does go on, but I would too if I were stuck in this hell hole all alone.”
   “I’ll bet we’re the first outsiders he’s seen in a long time.”, said Nanette. “We must be the first to get a show like that.”
   “You are not anywhere near the first!”, called the giant. “But I pray you’re the last!”
   That shot a cold shiver down all our backs. We waved to him as we sailed higher. He grew smaller and smaller finally becoming just another bright star in the night as we crested the mountains over the Amazon leaving the desert behind.
   I looked at the moonlit jungle below me and sighed. “I get snatched from the jaws of death only to be told my countrymen are a bunch of morons.”

91.
   Something inside of me snapped. “I’m fucking sick of hearing every God damned hallucination in this freak show trash my country! Would any of you clowns be happier under Hitler, Stalin, Mao? Me and my fellow morons invented the light bulb, photography, recorded sound, the telephone and took a couple of jaunts on the fucking moon in case you forgot! Name me another country that has -”

   Pat grabbed my leg. Nanette grabbed another. Claudia kissed me. “And there’s your music!”, she gasped. “You have given the world the Blues, and Bluegrass and Jazz and Rock and Roll!”
   “And Tennessee Williams!”, exclaimed Pat. “And Eugene O’Neal and William Faulkner and E. E. Cummings and James Baldwin and Hunter Thompson!”
   “And Marsden Hartley!”, continued Nanette. “And William Merritt Chase and Milton Avery and Georgia O’Keefe and Philip Guston and Jackson Pollock, and - gumbo!”
   I was suddenly free of my anger. My rant was stopped in mid-sentence. I smiled. “All I’ve had to drink in this perverted interlude is wine and a brandy and coke.”
   “Say no more!”, ordered Claudia breathlessly. “What will you have?”

   “You have a bar in this dump?”, I growled. “Scotch.”
   “On the rocks, of course.”, purred Claudia as she handed me a miracle in a balloon floating a thousand feet over a jungle.

92.
   I lifted the glass and admired the moonlight sparkling in the ice. I inhaled the rich, heady aroma and felt the bite on my tongue and the burn in my mouth. The taste of scotch digs into your soul and comforts it. It’s an anchor. It’s a rock. “The mention of jazz brought me out of my rage.”, I sighed. “A scotch in my hand in a bar with a jazz pianist conducting the din of warm conversation is a memory that will stay with me till the end of my life and help me meet it with a smile on my face.” I emptied the glass and looked up at the moon. “And what about the rock that hides the real truth, the rock that hides the pathway to hell? That centipede was laughing at us, laughing at our journey. What hope is there for us if nothing will ever change? What chance do we have against these shitty things thrown at us if our journey is for nothing?”

   “The fact that they are being thrown at us proves that our journey is not for nothing”, countered Nanette.
   “The fact that we have survived them proves we may be able to change things.”, said Pat as he looked at Nanette fondly.
   Claudia looked up at me. “Humanity itself is on the journey with us. We managed to get this far. We have each other. Even if there is no chance of succeeding, we must continue. If we don’t succeed, we at least leave a path for others to follow and as long as there is hope, others will follow.”
   “As long as there is hope.”, I repeated. I looked into her dark, bottomless eyes. “You are an inspiration, a very beautiful inspiration.”

93.
   A deafening howl shattered our meditation. “The Jews are returning to Israel!”

A bare assed preacher as big as a tank fell out of the night onto the balloon. “The Anti- Christ is among us!” His hair was electric yellow. His skin was purple, his eyes red. “Eternal torment and agony will befall all who follow him! We welcome Armageddon and hasten its divine justice!”

   The balloon creaked and groaned. The basket lurched. “Death and eternal damnation to the non-believers! Only the chosen few will escape the eternal jaws of hell and rise up in the Rapture to the righteousness of Jesus!”
   A huge, clammy hand stretched out at us. “The true believers will reside with Christ in Heaven!” We were pulled from each other’s arms. “The antichrist will rule until Jesus destroys him and the world forever!”
   The dogs and I were thrown from the balloon. “Rejoice, for the end of the world is nigh!”
   As I fell, I saw Claudia reaching for me. The balloon collapsed under the weight of the raging lunatic. She disappeared under the canopy.
   I blacked out.

OLIVER’S ILLUMINATIONS 

PART THREE

94.

   I came to on a dusty hillside overlooking the port of Valparaiso. I squinted under the bright sun. My memory flooded back. I looked around desperately for Claudia. Pat and Nanette stood beside me. I sat up with a start. “Where is Claudia?”
   “We had to leave her. We could only carry you.”, said Nanette quietly.
    “Leave her?”, I yelled. “Leave her to what?”
    Pat touched me. “She’s tough. She’ll make it out alright. Now you must be strong.” “Remember your promise.”, said Nanette.
    My pain made me feel very small. I looked out over the endless Pacific. I felt I had Claudia in my arms only moments ago. I could smell her hair. I could feel the soft skin on the back of her neck. I could feel her breath on my cheek. I looked pleadingly at the dogs.
   “She is not dead!”, barked Pat. “If there is any chance at all she is alive, she is alive!”
   I was an empty shell, paralyzed. Then I was furious. I pounded the dirt. I tore the grass. “I left her to die!” I fought to deny my worst fears. I fought to accept them. I bawled like a baby.       

   “Stop it!”, ordered Nanette. “We have to go forward, one day, one minute at a time. Stand up! We must go into the city.” 

   “We did the only thing we could!”, said Pat desperately. “There was a chance for her to escape alone. You were unconscious. If we stayed with her, if we dropped you in the jungle, all of us could have been killed.” 

     I struggled to my feet. I fought to deny my worst fears. I fought to accept them. I bawled like a baby.

95.
   The dogs dragged me into the city. I staggered through its streets stunned and empty like a condemned man on his way to the gibbet. The searing beauty of the town was warped by my despair. The buildings seemed to bend and sway. The sidewalks buckled. Was she alright? Did she save herself? Was she killed? I couldn’t catch my breath. I was sweating profusely.
   “Look at this town. Isn’t it beautiful?”, encouraged Pat.

   “This is our life, Oliver, our world.”, said Nanette. “We must live for those who have gone before us. We owe it to them. It doesn’t matter how tough life is. It can always be worse or you’re dead. You have to decide whether you’re here to experience the ride, every inch of it or not, OR NOT, because we don’t know what’s on the other side, what’s after, so there is no other side. If you decide you want to be alive, if you can dig yourself out of the misery of now and somehow find the joy of being alive, then keep on living because despite all its horrors and disappointments, it is a gift. It’s all we know. It’s us. It’s life. If you can figure that out, if you can accept the gift of life then give it back to the world. If someone, anyone listens to you then you haven’t lived in vain and you can move on to face no matter what’s next. I know you have experienced great pain in your life. You would not be here if you had not. We all have experienced great pain. We had a family once, Oliver, Pat and I, six children. They are dead, all dead.”
   Strain creased Pat’s eyes over his forced smile. “Look at those pinks and yellows! Look at that grill work!"

96.

   We wandered the city like lost children. Pat’s facade soon cracked to pieces. He stood under a tree sobbing. I felt like a fool.    
   Nanette put an arm around Pat and looked up at me. “We’ve been around a long time, Pat and I. When our children were killed, time stood still, literally. In 1960 the CIA engineered a coup to overthrow the democratically elected president of Ecuador, Jose Maria Velasco Ibarra. He was no communist, but he tolerated both parties in Ecuador and he refused to break relations with Cuba. In the eyes of the CIA, if you are a leader of a country in the American colony of the continent of South America you are either a puppet or you are history. The CIA used their usual bag of filthy tricks and, in to turn the deeply religious peasants against the leftists and communists they bombed churches. Our children were in one of those churches. They were not a threat to anyone, Oliver. They were children, Oliver, children.”
   Nanette and I sat beside Pat. When he got hold of himself, he looked at the two of us. He got to his feet and started walking. We followed him closely. We walked on not really knowing what we were looking for when suddenly we were stopped short by a whimsical architectural wonder. A jumbled nonsense in peach, tangerine and canary danced before our eyes. Windows were out of place. Balconies went nowhere. It sat on a corner bifurcating the street as if it had jumped out in front of us to block our way. There was a sign on the door: La Casamentera.
   “Come on, Oliver!”, pushed Nanette. “We found it! We’re here!”
   “It’s the matchmaker’s house!”, urged Pat. “She will help us.”
   I opened the door. We walked in.

.