I was about to say something unimportant when I heard Venasque's voice. His adult voice fingered its way through my conscious mind.
". . . mother liked the name Ilonka. It means –"
"Apple tree in Hungarian." I'd put my head down and closed my eyes, knowing what would be there when I opened them again: today, California, sixty years later. I was right. Both hands locked behind his neck, Venasque was staring at the night sky.
"Good, you saw! I wasn't sure. It was nice there, huh?"
"Was I really there?"
He grabbed for something in the air and brought his hand down to show me what it was. Sitting in there was the lizard his sister had let run up the tree.
"Walker, there are two important things you've got to know before we get started. You know everything about everyone. We all do. You're surprised you could go back to that day in my life? Don't be. It's an easy trick to learn. Someplace in you is the knowledge of every day of my life. I gave you a little push this time to find it, but soon you'll be able to do it whenever you want. But you won't use it. Know why? Because you won't want to. Even with your own life. Hopefully, by then you'll want to figure out how to live without making stupid mistakes on your own. Do you read mystery novels? Yes? It's the same with them. A fool can read ten pages and then turn to the end of the book to see if the butler did it. But why ruin the whole process? The fun is trying to figure out the mystery yourself. If you get it right at the end then you really feel good and not a cheat."
"Why would I want to learn about this place in myself if I'm not going to use it?"
"For the power and the discipline! Only weak, helpless people learn karate so they can hit someone. Don't you ever watch 'Kung Fu'? One of my favorite shows. Remember I told you I was going to teach you how to fly? Well, I am, but you won't ever do it. You'll never want to, if I teach you right. The satisfaction is knowing you can."
"What was the second thing I should know before we start?"
"That's something else. The second is, we know the past is a few million years old. But the future . . . there's no guarantee it will be even half as long. Right? Well, that's what I wanted to tell you – it won't be half as long.
"Connie. Connie! Come here. I gotta lizard for you."
The pig sprang up and waddled over. Venasque put his open hand in front of her. She gave it one fast shloop with her wet mouth and the sixty-year-old lizard was gone. She nuzzled his hand to make sure nothing else delicious was there before returning to her pillow. Venasque shook his head in wonderment, as if she had done something special.
"There are a few years left, but that's not important. I think it'll be best when everything is over."
"What do you mean?"
"Us, life, man's whole long story will finally have "The End' written across it. What nobody understands is what comes after that. Only some of those who are around when it does happen will be able to find that out. I hope I'm one of them, but I may never come back at that time."
"Come back? You mean reincarnation?"
"They've been talking and writing about reincarnation forever, but no one seems to get the hint, you know? Man is so dumb, down deep. You think people have talked about it for thousands of years because they're making a mistake? No. Reincarnation means coming back and working on life until you get things right, Walker. But even people who do believe in it never think that maybe life on earth won't go on forever. They think you live and die and come back maybe ten or fifty or a hundred years from now. That's wrong. You do live and die and come back, but not always in the future. Know why? Because after a certain date, there isn't a future. There's an end to our time here. Pretty soon some idiots will make a big mistake that'll lead to other big mistakes, and then the world will die. And I mean everything will die – man, animals, bugs. Sad, but that's the way it is. Getting back to what I was saying, there's only this certain amount of time available to us humans to live in. You can come back in 1390 or 1790 or 1990, but not so long after that because if you did, you'd be born on a charcoal briquette! So we live and work out our troubles now, or in our past. Sometimes we Ping-Pong back and forth, depending on what we need and where it is in our history. It even happens to animals. That sea monster you saw? Where do you think it came from?"
"Philip Strayhorn said –"
The old man waved away the rest of my sentence. "Phil Strayhorn's read too many books. He should swim more. I'll give you the technical name of that thing if you want, but all you gotta do is look at those old sea maps explorers used. There's a dragon like yours drawn on each one. That part is No Man's Land! Don't sail here! You think guys like Columbus and Magellan were fooling around? You think they were crazy? Hell no! They said don't sail there because they'd seen sea monsters there. But monsters come back too, Walker. From what I can understand, they usually die and come right back to the same time, but sometimes they pop up nearby. Like out at Santa Monica." He smiled.
"Why would a sea serpent be reincarnated?" Did I believe any of this? I did.
"For the same reason man is reincarnated – to work things out. It doesn't matter where we are in time because the problems are always the same. I can imagine the same is true for sea monsters.
"I'm going to show you something now which I shouldn't do yet, but you need it to believe what I've been telling you. Don't get scared, though. Even if it gets bad, try not to get scared."
Before I could say anything (like "No!" or "Help!"), I realized I was putting my hands out in protest, not against Venasque, but some man I'd never seen before. We were in a cold gray room somewhere, and my back was flush against a window. I saw bright daylight coming in from behind me.
The man coming at me was a midget, no taller than my beltline. He was dressed in a natty blue suit that was a little masterpiece of tailoring and had obviously cost a lot. More than his height, the most dismaying (and interesting) thing about him was his face. It had the seraphic, suffering beauty of Christ in a Renaissance painting: long golden hair, wispy beard, and eyes infused with all the scars and joys of life.
"You are my son!" he said, pushing me backward through the window.
I didn't have a chance to scream because the next thing I knew, something heavy was standing on my chest, licking my face. The pig.
I looked up and saw its craggy, comical face and sweet eyes against the California night sky. I pushed her off and looked for Venasque. He was standing by one of the flower beds, watering his plants.
"What'd you see back there?"
Weakly, I pushed myself off the ground and into a sitting position. "What the hell was that all about?"
He put the watering can down and stabbed a stiff finger at me. "Don't ever ask me questions in that voice, Walker! You either work with me and believe in what I'm doing, or you get out! You gotta lot to learn and not so much time to do it in."
"Well what the hell was that? You send me back to someplace where a midget pushes me out a window? What is that? Where was I? Come on, Venasque, I don't understand this stuff!"
"It was your last life, Walker. How you died back there. You fell out a window? Did you hit the ground? Did you feel yourself die?"