Author Part 1
(Chapter 54 of "Senses")
1998
YOSEMITE
Now we finally come to my own involvement in all of this.
I know you've probably heard the public record of how everything happened; the newspapers are still full of it from time to time with follow-up crap and informational articles and other bullshit. However, as you have no doubt noticed, we're not telling this story in the history book fashion but in the story book fashion.
My involvement starts in Yosemite National Park, where I was spending the summer between my sophomore and what was supposed to be my junior year of college. I had, through parental subsidy, rented a lodge cabin for the summer so that I could work on my first novel. I was going to use the majestic scenery of the area as inspiration for my opus.
What can I say? I was nineteen years old.
I like to think of myself as having been an experienced nineteen, having been through several experiences that I cannot call normal; thus my novel. My plan had been to write a surrealistic expose of teen life, using my own experiences for groundwork. After all, once you've seen rape, murder, drugs, cultism, teen sex, robbery, mass hysteria and acne before the age of twenty, you should have enough material to write a book.
Woo boy!
Of course, I had it all planned out. The scenic panorama of Yosemite as a background, occasional hiking, camp food, the lodge facilities, and I'd write between five and ten pages each day. What happened? I was three weeks into my excursion and twenty pages into a serious case of writer's block.
Nothing helped. Not hiking, backpacking, sleeping in the wilderness, fine cuisine in the Broiler Room, the bar in the Mountain Room (I've got a good fake I.D.), nothing! Just a bunch of blank pages.
I had even found a few premium girls with whom to have sex, thinking my release was there. Nope. All I got was fucked. Laid. Screwed.
Whatever. Some sex, some mental release, just as many blank pages.
I finally had decided to break down and use the writer's last resort; junk food. I had resisted for three weeks, trying not to mix the beauty with the preservatives, but I had to deal with this block.
So here I was, empty backpack slung over one shoulder, looking at the Pop-Tarts trying to decide which flavor would best promote flowing thought when I bumped smack-dab into history.
Or should I say she bumped into me? It's certainly more appropriate, as she came around the corner of the Yosemite Village Store frozen food aisle at a break-neck pace and slammed into me, spilling me onto the floor.
As I looked up, dazed, to see what freight train had swiped into me only to see a girl in her late teens say "Chocolate." No, let's be accurate. She said, "Chocolate frosted fudge."
She was a big girl. About my age, about my height, and easily 50 pounds heavier. I'll grant you my 140 pounds looks light on my 5 foot 10 inch body, but her 190 plus looked, well, fat.
Not an unpleasant fat, mind you, but fat none the less. She had long red hair, a pleasant enough face, and, well, how do I put this? She would probably be a pleasant enough date if she was not so fat. Again, what can I say? I was nineteen years old and at that age the first thing that enters your mind when you meet a girl (or guy depending upon your tastes) is to size them up sexually.
Still, she had knocked me flat on my ass when she came around the corner, and instead of the usual "sorry" or "oops" or even "out of the way asshole" she had said "chocolate frosted fudge". This of course sent my writer's brain reeling for a witty response.
"Huh?" I said.
"Chocolate frosted fudge," she repeated. She had a silky-smooth voice.
"Excuse me?"
"No, I bumped into you so you should excuse me."
Had I hit my head when I fell? This conversation was confusing me more and more. I shook my head and started to stand, and the girl (woman? Like I said, she looked my age) helped me up. Strong!
"Let's start over," I said.
"Good idea," she said. "Nicki Davis."
I extended my hand for a firm handshake. "Jace Wright," I replied. I winced waiting for the inevitable.
"You're just right? Lots of girls looking for someone like you."
I groaned. "Just call me Jace, would you? The name is not my fault."
Nicki laughed. "It's all right. My father's name is 'drink and I have an uncle who goes by his initials. I'm used to it."
"All right then. You're Nicki and I'm Jace. Do you always greet people with flavors?"
She laughed again. "Oh, that. I noticed you eying those Pop-Tarts. If you're going to eat something that wicked I suggest you go all out. Get the chocolate frosted fudge."
I picked up two boxes and said, "Deal. I like your style, Nicki. Quick wit and you smile a lot."
"You forgot to mention my solid knock-down technique."
I laughed. "True. So noted."
Have you ever had a random thought sneak out of nowhere and bite you on the ass? You know, one of those thoughts where you immediately think to yourself where did that come from? It happens to me all the time, and at that moment I had a wild one.
If she were a bit thinner she'd be a good fuck.
Nicki looked me dead in the eye and said, "I am a good fuck, mister, with the potential for being great."
At first I was sure I had imagined it, but her look said otherwise. She was expecting a response. I just stared, open-mouthed, a million questions immediately racing through my head, when I heard a strong voice behind me say, "Nicki, let's go." I turned around to look this person in the eye and got mid-chest instead.
I had heard of A.J. Christopher. Hell, I was even one of the lucky ones who had a copy of The R & R Project. However, meeting him was totally unexpected. I'll grant you this much, he's very recognizable. All 7 foot 4 of him.
He looked down at me. "Greetings, foolish mortal," he said.
I looked back at Nicki. "Your uncle?" I asked.
"Sort of." She was smiling again, walking past me. "Got to go. Pleasure to meet you, Jace Wright."
I simply stared as Nicki followed the giant rock star, but I recovered to call out, "Mountain Room bar, 8 p.m."
She glanced back at me with a flirting gaze. "I'll consider it," she returned, then they were both gone.
I stared for a moment, still wondering just what the hell just happened. I had at that point in my life been through several surrealistic experiences and it seemed I was about to enter another. If Nicki showed up. Deep down, for reasons I did not know at the time, I hoped she would.
Either way, I had just broken the writer's block.
Back in their cabin, A.J. and Nicki were unpacking the supplies they had bought at the store.
"Wanna talk about it?" A.J. asked.
"No," Nicki replied, angrily setting down a box.
A.J. laughed. "Bullshit. Your head looks like a jigsaw puzzle from all the equations."
"I said no!"
A.J. stopped what he was doing and regarded Nicki. "Look, little girl, I may not really be your uncle, but I do know a good chunk of what you do and what you're going through. You, on the other hand, have almost no large scale social skills."
"I know, a lot to learn."
"So fucking talk to me!"
Nicki threw a can of Coke Classic at A.J., who caught it with ease. "All right, damn you!" she shouted. "Why does he make me so mad?"
"Who?"
"I was so glib with him, and then I blew it!"
"Who?"
"Jace!"
A.J. laughed again. "The kid in the store?"
"Yes, him!"
"Nicki, I'm missing part of the puzzle..."
"He thought about whether or not I'd be a good fuck if I weren't so fat." Nicki sat down and began to cry.
A.J. sat next to her and hugged. "Nicki, the fact that you have a weight problem is a hindrance in a society like ours. We're trained to think we should all look like Barbie and Ken dolls."
"I know," Nicki said. "It's never bothered me before is all. Why does this stand out?"
A.J. was silent for a moment. "Maybe you should try courting him," he quoted.
Nicki was silent a long time after A.J.'s comment.
This story, mine, is the last in the series that comprises this tale. You have met Jim, A.J. and Larry Christopher, Karen, Carrie, Angie, Morgana, Rand, Constance (who, oddly enough, I knew before I met Nicki), Paul, Scott, 'drink and Debbie, Mats, Nicki and a few others. I admit that I am the final piece of the puzzle. Through my writing you already know more about their lives than any of them had once thought would be told. We all live in seclusion now, so we don't mind talking about it anymore. However, this many pages into it and my role has just begun.
I realize that this is somewhat odd. After umpteen gazillion words the narrator finally shows his head. Sorry, but this is how it happened and we all feel the background is too important to ignore. None of it was really planned, that's for sure. I simply came last.
My name is Richard Stephen Wright. Jace is a nickname I picked up in a poker game when I was thirteen. It stuck and I like it. That horrible pun didn't even occur to me until three weeks later, and by that point I was to stubborn to give it up.
You already know my dimensions, but let me add that I have short (collar length) black hair, decent enough looks to attract, and a penchant for trouble. That's my term for it.
For example, I have been held hostage by a gunman who had just raped my then-girlfriend. I have been in the presence of drug-crazed cultists who, en-masse, had out of body experiences. I've seen a bank robber blow his own brains out the back of his head.
In other words, shit happens when I'm there.
I grew up in Berkeley, the son of two lawyers. Protestant, but I don't practice. I did the usual kid things, experimenting with drugs, a little cultism, that kind of thing. Ran away to college, also Berkeley, when I was 17.
Ran to Yosemite at age 19.
Hell, this stinks. Let me tell the story.
I wrote my fingers off until 7:30 (12 pages - whew!) then I changed clothes and went to the bar. I ordered a gin and tonic (only one - ever drink alcohol at a high altitude?) and sat by the fire, waiting to see if Nicki would show up. I still had those questions going through my head.
How is A.J. Christopher her uncle, when neither Christopher brother is old enough to have a kid that age? (I kept up on that sort of thing although you'll notice that I didn't know about Larry's existence yet).
How the hell had she known what I was thinking?
Why was I so sure she had known?
How had she known what I had planned to buy?
Who is she?
Why does it bother me so damn much?
Why did she have to be so fat?
There were others, but these were the dominant thoughts going through my head. An imaginative mind will go through hell trying to find the answers, and one thing I do have is a creative mind.
You don't want to know.
Nicki walked into the bar about ten minutes past eight. It took her a moment to spot me, but she did and walked over to me, none of that earlier burst of anger showing on her face. I greeted her with a solid handshake and invited her to sit down.
"Didn't think you were going to show," I said, "but thank you for coming."
"Hadn't planned on it," she returned, "but you have a certain charm to you I couldn't resist."
I laughed in spite of myself. "From obtuse and insulting to a charmer with virtually no dialogue. I like it. Can I get you something to drink?"
"No thanks," Nicki replied, shaking her head. "I don't drink."
I raised an eyebrow (yes, I can do it too). "Ever?" I asked. "Don't that make you thirsty?"
She laughed. "I cope. Coke then, if you're going to be so gallant."
I got the attention of a waitress and ordered two, and there was one of those horrid pauses in the conversation that would make anyone uncomfortable, and as you may have noticed by now I like dialogue. I tried to break the pause with an ill-timed question.
"So, um, let me start. How old are you?"
Nicki got a distant look in her eye, and she smiled. It only lasted long enough for me to notice it, but it was enough. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she said, "so I'm going to lie and say twenty-three."
"I always seem to find older women," I said. "I had guessed you at being younger. More my age, which is 19, by the way."
Nicki laughed at that, but didn't comment so I didn't pursue it. File away for future reference.
"Ever been to Yosemite, I mean before now?" I asked.
"Once," Nicki replied, "when I was younger. I don't remember it being this pretty though."
"Yeah, I know. In my opinion this is the best time to come here. Late spring or early summer, just after winter thaw. There's still water in the falls and it's not too hot to go hiking."
"You sound like an expert."
"Oh no. But living in Berkeley allows me to come here often."
"A Berkeley radical, eh?"
I shrugged, picking up the coke that had just arrived. "Sort of," I said. "They've certainly been an influence on me. Where are you from?"
"All over the place," she replied, "but for now I live in Los Angeles."
"That will do."
Nicki sipped her drink. "You're dying to ask me something, aren't you?"
I smiled. "Shows, does it? All right, how is A.J. Christopher your uncle? Jim Christopher isn't old enough to be your father, and you said your last name is Davis..."
"You've got a good memory," Nicki replied, cutting me off, "and you like rock music. Good. For your information, there is a third Christopher brother, who lives in San Francisco, but he's not my father either. A.J. is a family friend."
"How did you manage that?"
"Long story. Let's sat my real uncle and A.J. are business partners."
File that for future reference as well.
"Well now," Nicki said, "that out of the way, what brings you here?"
"Why do you ask?" I retorted.
"Because you have the look on you of someone who has already been here a while. At least more than the touristy week or so everyone else here has, and you act like this is your home so I'm venturing a guess that your plans include remaining for some time to come, correct?"
I nodded in admiration. "You surmise correctly for a tourist yourself," I responded. I proceeded to tell her about my plans to write a novel. She just whistled.
"Expensive way to write a novel," she noted.
"True, but I'm not paying for it," I answered. "I convinced my folks that I have a story to tell and they set me up here."
"Sounds like they believe in you."
"Maybe. I just think they wanted me out of their hair."
Nicki sipped her coke and continued. "I bet I could tell you a story that would set everything you've been working on aside."
I laughed. "Gut feeling tells me to believe you," I said. "Already I see a lot of mystery to you. I'm tempted to ask about it."
Her smile slowly faded. "That was very insightful of you. You shouldn't ask."
I pondered that one for a moment, thinking back to my days as an amateur counselor to most of my friends. Jace, the human shoulder. It was almost instinctive when I asked, "Want to try me?"
Nicki shook her head. "Jace, you've been very nice to me in spite of yourself." She stood up.
"Are you going?" I asked.
She nodded. "Are you staying here at the lodge?"
"Yep. I always stay here."
"What's your room number?"
"4529," I replied.
"Good. I'll call you in the morning." With that she left the bar.
I was silent for a moment, no clearer on this girl than I was before. I did, however, have to admit that ideas for my novel were now coming to me left and right without junk food even once passing my lips.
Nicki did not sleep well that night, unsure in her own mind what she was doing. She once tried to wake A.J., but he refused to budge. When she finally did sleep, she dreamt of red waterfalls.
I didn't see Nicki at all the next day, which was just as well. I never left my room and wrote nearly forty pages longhand. I fell asleep over my pad of paper about 10:30 p.m.
I awoke at midnight because my room phone was ringing. I answered coherently, "What fucking time is it?"
"Hello Jace, It's Nicki," came the all-too-cheerful voice on the other end of the phone. "The fucking time is exactly midnight. Did I wake you?"
"It's all right," I said, wiping the sleep from my eyes and turning on a light. "I had to answer the phone anyway."
Nicki laughed.
"What's up?" I asked.
"A late hike," Nicki answered. "Uncle A.J. is taking me up to the top of Yosemite falls to go stargazing. I thought you might want to come along."
I thought about it for a moment. "That must be a beautiful sight from up there," I said. "Yeah, I want to come along."
I met with Nicki and A.J. and was formally introduced to the big man. I discovered him to be rather pleasant, although certainly imposing. At that height, wouldn't you be?
"To El Capitan we're all the same," A.J. said.
We started up the trail single file; A.J. in front, followed by Nicki then myself. It's a tricky climb at night, but A.J. carried a lantern that made it easy for us to see the trail. In all it took almost 4 hours to make the ascent, but it was worth it.
Although it was too dark to see into the valley, the view of the stars was not to be believed. With virtually no light to block out the view and at as high an elevation as we were at we were seeing more stars than we would think were in the skies.
Amazing, and invigorating. I didn't feel sleepy at all, not even as the sun began to rise. Call it a sense of euphoria, I suppose.
It was my idea to look down at the valley from cliff side as the sun brought light into it. All three of us crawled on our bellies and looked down the more than half-mile to the valley floor. Beautiful.
The problem was that Nicki crawled out a bit too far, and lost her balance and went over the edge. As I just watched in alarm as she fell towards certain death I saw A.J. launch himself over the edge as well. To my amazement he passed her and spun around, then caught her and slowed her enough to the point that they finally stopped. They began to rise back up to the cliff edge where I waited.
When they finally got back to my level, I crawled away from the edge, then stood as they landed. I stood for a moment with my jaw hanging as if loosely hinged from my skull.
Then I passed out.
A.J. whirled on Nicki. "You knocked him out on purpose!" he shouted. "Why did you do that?"
"He saw you fly," Nicki protested.
"So have others. No one ever believes it. Why would this one be any different?"
"But he seemed..."
"Tired! He was tired, little girl, even if he wouldn't admit it to himself. That kid had had only a couple of hours of sleep when you woke him for this hike. This could have been so easy to explain away!"
Nicki sat down, as if to cry. "I don't understand," she said.
"Look," A.J. said, calming his voice, "I realize this is something you wouldn't know, but the human psyche reinforces trauma when it's accentuated. I've seen it before, in a nearly identical situation. Passing out or being knocked unconscious reinforces the experience just previous. He'll never believe it didn't happen now. You've exposed my biggest secret to a complete stranger!"
At that point Nicki did start to cry, and A.J. sat next to her and hugged her. "I'm sorry I shouted," he said after a while.
"Uncle A.J., you don't understand," Nicki finally said.
"Understand what?"
"I have no one my own age to even talk to. No one with similar experiences. Something tells me that Jace could come close."
A.J. nodded. "You're in love with him, aren't you?" When Nicki refused to answer A.J. continued, "It's all right to be, even if you don't recognize it. It sneaks up on you when you least expect it. Hell, your Uncle Jim is living proof of that."
Nicki smiled and wiped her eyes.
"Young love is special," A.J. said. "A kind of thing that happens to us all, but usually only once. Cherish it." A.J. looked at Jace's collapsed form. "We do, however, have a problem."
Nicki looked up at A.J. "Let's take him back with us," she said.
"That's kidnapping," A.J. responded. "Your parents didn't like it when it happened to them, so how will this guy feel?"
Nicki looked down. "You're right, of course, but we just can't have someone running around telling people what he saw here. This is what I want. I want to take him with us. I want a friend."
"Is that why you jumped from the cliff? To set all this up?"
Nicki looked up at A.J., stunned. She made to protest but stopped when she saw A.J.'s stern expression. "I don't know," she said meekly.
A.J. sighed. "Okay then." he looked a Jace again and frowned. Then he looked at the equations he was getting and noticed something odd for the first time. He reached a conclusion. "How long is he out for?" he asked.
"About two hours, give or take."
A.J. stood, shaking his head. "All right," he said, "we do it your way. Take him to L.A. and explain what happened. If he wants to leave then we let him go, with a good warning not to tell. You'll need to knock him out again when he comes to. By the way, does it hurt him when you do that?"
"No, it doesn't hurt," Nicki replied. "It's like making him wanting not to be conscious."
A.J. picked up the form of Jace, and draped him over one shoulder. "Hop on to the other one," A.J. motioned. "We have less than two hours to get our asses out of Yosemite and the sun's coming up. We're going down the quick way." Once Nicki was secure A.J. stepped off the cliff.
I awoke to find myself in the back seat of a car. I sat up groggily and took in my surroundings. In the front seat were A.J. and Nicki.
I looked out a window to get my bearings and saw that we had just passed through the town of Fish Camp. I blinked once, then faced forward to see Nicki staring at me. She smiled.
I passed out again.