The Shasta Caper
by John Pirillo
Chapter Six
Samuel, a quite good looking young man in his early twenties, with a mop of hair that always got in his eyes, bronzed by the sun with eyes that seemed to go forever and Jimbo, his tall Texan friend with a build like Hulk Hogan and an appetite like Wimpy from the old Popeye series of cartoons with a mustache that seems to be alive above his lips, rather than growing there and thick fingers and reddish hair cut short in a conservative manner.
The two, quite a pair. Sedate and quiet at the moment in Samuel's high rise condo in Vegas. It overlooked Sin City below. Quite a sight at night, resplendent with animated explosions of color and sound from traffice flows that never stopped, hordes of frantic tourists eager to get the most bang for their buck every day they stayed there; and hordes of taxis squeezing in and out of traffic, striving to grab as many rides as possible on their shifts, blasting and honking at each other and cars that got in their way.
Yes. A peaceful town. From above. Below it was frenetic energy, sexual tension, drinking too much, drugging too much and furtive criminals looking for the unwary citizens who came to gamble, but were too naive to realize not all of Las Vegas was safe at night.
Metro Police marched the corridors of walkways and streets. Sometimes on horse. Sometimes on cycles and patrol cars, but always searching, striving to contain the rough edges of the city to maintain some semblance of order and keep the cash flowing.
Samuel sat on his favorite lounge chair, a striped red and yellow aluminum chair that could drop back into a sleep mode, whenever he wanted to come outside for fresh air, which was often during the hot summer. Most people stayed in their freezing, refrigerated rooms, but he liked the cold. Maybe that was because he was born in a more temperate zone where temperatures ranged up into the hundreds at times. Maybe it was because it reminded him of the lifetimes he had spent in Egypt and Atlantis as a Pharoh or Soldier, or citizen. He didn't know anymore. Those thoughts and memories all just ran together in a stream of consciousness that he seldom integrated into his daily life anymore.
Except today.
Today he had been given a huge insight into his friendship with Jimbo. As a matter of fact that is why both of them were still up, staring down at the tourists below, instead of sleeping off a difficult day at its best, and a horrible one at its worst. Pretty normal for the two of them.
Jimbo had flown in from Texas, where he taught classes in Poetry and Horse breeding at his ranch in the Austin area. It took care of itself mostly, because of a great family filled with lots of wild men like him who loved poetry and horses and kept his students and clients happy with poetry and studs, as well as excursions on horseback when able.
"Figure it's like this, Sammie." Jimbo said, stirring on his couch that he had bought and installed on the balcony for his visits. Sammie never used it. It was Jimbo's through and through from the hot pink covering with paisley flowers to the soft cushions that seemed to touch the concrete of the balcony floor when anyone sat on them, which he had once, and never again.
No accounting for anyone's taste.
"We've been connected since high school. Why should it be any different bloodwise, or lifetimes wise, not that I believe in any of that pastlife horseshit, mind you."
"Course not." Samuel agreed, hiding his smile. He sipped at his coconut juice drink, then sighed. "Strange how all roads lead to Rome, though, isn't it?"
"I suppose." Jimbo nodded. "If you can believe in that crazy place that fell beneath the ocean."
"Atlantis."
"Whatever." Jimbo grunted, not wanting to go there. He loved his friend dearly, but he didn't necessarily believe in everything he saw and believed. But he did believe in what he experienced, and there had been plenty to rock the senses and his world, which didn't have normal explanations, but which he carefully compartamentalized as having to do with their ongoing battles with the evils of this world. Not that he believed in evil necessarily, except for today, maybe a little bit. That curling darkness that was zinging at him had smelled awful and packed a powerful punch. He had felt his nine lives scattering to the winds until Samuel had saved him. Yet again.
"Samuel. Don't you figure that by now we've saved each other's lives enough not to have to make up for any more of those so-called bad ones?"
"Karma's like an ocean. You remove a drop here, a drop t here, but there's buckets more moving in to take their place."
"In other words?"
"Too much brainpower to figure out, Jimbo. Too much intellect to handle the truth. Our minds are too small to bucket such huge thoughts as trillions of past lives."
Jimbo almost choked on that word. "Trillions!"
Samuel laughed. "Figuratively speaking, of course, since we'll never be certain until after we leave our bodies."
"Oh sure, that counts for nothing." Jimbo snorted again. He grabbed a beer. Root beer in this case and guzzled it down. He preferred the real stuff, but Samuel had been convincing him to lighten up on it, since his belly was starting to pop his pant buttons and break his belts lately.
"Sure do miss my Heinies." Jimbo mused.
"You mean Heinikens."
"Something like that. Sure." Jimbo shot back.
"So now what?"
"We find your friend."
"That should be easy for you. Just put your hand on me. Right here." Jimbo said, indicating a spot on his jacket. "She touched me there earlier, before you arrived."
"No thank you." Samuel replied, sitting up, alert. "Enough psychic avalanches for one day."
"You mean one lifetime, don't you?" Then he dropped his next words when Samuel gave him that usual enigmatic look that indicated there was more popping that was being said.
"So tell me again, what did she ask you about?" Sammie asked.
"Already told you. Not a hill of beans, unless you count Atlantis and Mount Shasta in the same breath."
Samuel jerked as if struck. "That's it!"
Jimbo grabbed a second root beer, popped its top with a thumb, the guzzled it down. He belched, then said. "That's what?"
"I should have seen it. When we were together in Atlantis we had been flung from an escape vehicle."
"Your flying saucer?"
"It wasn't a flying saucer. More like a very elaborate ride without wings." Samuel elaborated.
"Whatever. So?"
"We had just come from a place. A holy place. One that thousands of Atlanteans were seeking for refuge."
"Atlantis?"
"No, Mount Shasta. Though it wasn't called that back then. It wasn't even above the ocean. It was beneath it, like much of the States were back then. They were using the Vimanas to go underwater to the opening."
"Opening?" Jimbo grunted. "Who would build a city under the water?"
"Jimbo, those people built cities that floated in the air and had ships that could travel to the stars. Building underwater cities, or tunnels was nothing to them."
"But how could they have known Atlantis would go belly up? It makes no sense."
"Lord Osiris must have known."
"Lord whosit?
"Lore Osiris. He's considered a god to the ancient Egyptians. He supposedly led the good Atlanteans from the doomed continent into the land of Egypt."
"Then how could he have built the tunnels and cities under the water?"
"Not built. Managed their construction."
Samuel got up. He headed for the screen door, closing off his condo and opened it. He looked back at Jimbo. "Time to pack."
"Why?"
"We're going to Mount Shasta."
"Why?"
"I've got a hunch."
"Does it involve us getting our butts kicked and our heads bashed in and lots of nasty creatures that shouldn't exist?"
"More than likely."
Jimbo got up and grinned. "Count me in then!"
