The joyousness of their celebration was short lived.
Arnold hadn’t spoken up. He didn’t want to put a damper on things, he’d been around long enough to know that a person never knows, thought what the heck, maybe the old Crone was on to something, and if there was magic to be added to the mix of things, nobody could work it like Yanaha. He smiled as he recalled her magic of the previous night.
But he also remembered his own frustrations from the summer of love. He’d marched the marches and carried the signs, and while the people of the US finally got tired of watching their boys come home in boxes, well, they kind of forgot an awful lot about peace and love and doing the right thing afterwards, that or those boys who came home not in boxes came home kind of shattered. Those broken bits can spread some pain if they’re not dealt with, and most of them hadn’t really been dealt with. It was the doing the right thing that seemed to throw a lot of folks, too many years living life with the idea of being chosen or above all the rest of the world or some such, had done lots of harm. It was something Yanaha’s people understood, something he had learned.
Most of the people of the US of A,, well, not so much.
But when Yanaha returned from the library a short time later, the look on her face told the whole story. Heck, it looked to be a trilogy, at least.
“Well, I’m afraid this is something we’re going to have to deal with ourselves,” she sighed, “while the energy of the MTJ isn’t strictly a local phenomenon, it’s kind of limited as to where it can vent its frustrations.”
“Well, where can it vent them then?” Tante was still panting, more from the dance than the idea, as its silliness had already occurred to her, at least a little. From what she understood of earthquakes, which was more than a little, after all, she was pretty sure she’d rattled the world they were all occupying a time or two, that wasn’t how they worked.. She’d consulted the Great God Google, the way she liked to think of the search engine since Haile left them, she like to think of him there, sitting at Google’s right hand, or at least the image of Google she had in her mind. Google was colorful, and shape shifted, often, Google was no Baltha, but like her, it always returned to its true form.
Or at least Tante assumed so. She’d not given her own true form thought in quite a while.
“Well, it can take out the Yellowstone Caldera, but since the epicenter of that blow hole, Dick Cheney’s place, is so close to the spot where Wolf has finally resettled, the MTJ refuses to vent there.” They all nodded in agreement. Wolf was a great friend. Yanaha continued.
“Any place that there’s significant fracking going on has potential, as does most of the Pacific Rim. For now, both Cleveland and Philadelphia are out. Besides, the MTJ can’t just convert the kinetic energy of plate scraping into an outcome. The translation of the ancients’ text is kind of vague, there’s some really archaic symbology used, but basically I think it says that we have to use the materials and methods consistent with reality, that magic is just that. Or that’s my interpretation.”
“What’s the exact translation?” Arnold, ever the attorney.
“Well, you must recognize, that in the ancient ways, knowledge was passed through oral traditions, symbols and reality are the same, the ancients were immersed in life. There is no word for symbol in most indigenous languages, no such concept. The old grandmothers who tried to write down the knowledge when the language was stolen and the young ones started to lose interest, well, they faced lots of challenges. Attempts to convey old wisdom with written words is difficult, at best”. She was hesitant in expressing the sense the symbols had given her, the meaning conveyed.
“Don’t worry Yanaha, Arnold isn’t going to take you to court, your best guess is good enough for us,” Ja laughed as he said it, only a little falsely, trying to lighten the mood.
“Well, the sense I get from the symbols is something like: “Get real, Bitch”, she chuckled, genuinely, before she continued “partly because it was Coyote who delivered the message as I was studying the old text. You probably couldn’t hear, over the music down here. It was one of those direct answers to a question I’d posed, mentally. The longer interpretation was my own.
“Okay, so, no problem, right?” Tante was working back up to manic mode.
“That Bernie guy is really good, the people love him! All we have to do is show just how awful and false she really is, it will all work out for the best, right?”
“Well, maybe,” Arnold sighed again, almost afraid to get too hopeful. “How’s about we all go to Philadelphia. That seems right, I mean, it’s the place that’s supposed to be about brotherly love, the American Revolution had roots there, lots of good folks in that area. Maybe we can stir up the crowd!”
“Black Lives Matter is going to be there, for sure, I’d love to get with that group!” Ja’s Anarchist was getting fired up, even if it was a political thing. His deep Yeti intuition was troubling him as well, in ways he couldn’t quite define. Just as Arnold said, it all seemed ideal, the place for the New Revolution to take place, for the corruption of the system to be laid bare.
Maybe that was it. If the system wasn’t corrupt, well, Bernie was a shoe-in, even if he was a Democratic Socialist. That might be a livable system, at least until he found a way to run free in the Himalayas as his spirit called for him to do. But if it was corrupt, and every fiber of his Yeti being cried out to him, howled in that way that had served as password to the cyber world of Haile’s creation, howled at him from his mother’s silent mantras transmitted from Bhutan, that it was corrupt, well, that did not bode well for the march on Philadelphia.
He restrained himself, and started doing online searches for people he might connect with there. Already a movement had begun, the old guy from Brooklyn was indeed shaking things up.
People were paying attention.
The End is Near