Pumpkin season was coming to an end, and the director of the museum had an idea for a new exhibit. When he saw Flash in the cafe one day, he asked him if he had any interesting items from his travels that the Ololian public hadn’t seen yet. Flash thought for a minute, and said Yes, I have a few things in the mother ship. A black furry hide that I picked up on a frozen planet, and a cup that I chiseled out of the ice.
Anything else?
Flash thought hard. He closed his eyes and visualized the interior of the ship.
I could unplug the K.D. Head, he said. No one is using it up there.
And so Flash planned a trip up. He was excited to visit it again. He didn’t miss flying through space with no known destination. He’d done that already. He found his destination on Olo. Still, he had a lot of memories connected to the mother ship.
I’ll look around while I’m up there, and see what else I might have.
Flash told his family about his plans to revisit the mother ship, and asked if anyone would like to join him. Mad and Luuu were busy. Bucket had developed a fear of going back into space. Poikani wasn’t really interested in going, and so once again, Flash was going to go alone. He readied the pod and took off without making a big deal about it. He lifted off and rose high above the crimson plain and the cobalt plateau. The reef like mountain spires towered above him for a moment, but he zoomed past them, rising to a vertical ascent. In no time, the blue sky went black, and he felt the familiar silence and slow motion effect of weightlessness. The homing device on the pod did all the work, drawing him to the mother ship, which awoke after her long slumber, to welcome him.
Flash was flooded with memories of other times he had looked down on the glistening planet he had come to love so much. He understood the images so much better now. When he looked at the fish head, or the woman hanging clothes on the line, he now thought of the friends he had there.
Flash knew he was not leaving like he had twice before, and yet he already missed Olo. He would be right back.
The pod was attracted to the mother ship, and docking happened automatically. He felt a soft thud, and then heard the clicking and slight jostling of the locking mechanism which secured the pod and sealed the hatch.
He floated up into the larger ship, which was down from the pod, as the pod was nestled into the underside of the mother ship.

Upon entry, he immediately saw the black hide, which was draped over his chair. He laughed to himself when he saw the Wizzzer, View Master and Etch-A-Sketch, which he had forgotten about. When he lifted the hide, the Olo ball rolled out, and bounced on the floor.
I might as well have a coffee, he said, and that old friendly voice responded, Certainly.
A cup dropped from somewhere, and the aroma of fresh coffee filled the cabin.
An alarm beeped softly, and turning to the computer screen, he saw that the table of elements was still missing the molecules it took to produce the sphere, the toys and the ruby.

The ruby…. Where is that ruby?

He found it between the cushions near where the toys had been.
For all the familiarity of this spacecraft, Flash felt a little uneasy. He just wanted to get back to Olo.
He finished his coffee, cancelled the alarm and disconnected the K.D. Head.
Come on, sweetheart, he said to the now dormant head like orb, and moved everything into the pod, securing it for the brief trip back.

He did one last scan of the cockpit, partly to see if there was anything he had missed for the museum, and in part because he wasn’t sure if he would see the interior of this ship again. He did see something on the floor under the control panel. He picked it up. It was the joke book prize from the Cracker Jack.
When is clay no longer clay?
He put it in his pocket and floated down into the pod head first, like a slow motion dive, and swam into position in the pilot’s seat. The K.D. Head was strapped into the copilot’s chair. It was strangely quiet, and had no face, being powered down. He remembered the time when this object had been his only companion. It had informed and warned him. It had entertained and comforted him. He simply plugged it into a port on the instrument cluster. It flickered and sprang to life. Simulated life, but you know what I mean.
Flash released the locking mechanism, and the pod tumbled gently from its docking bay.
He had a clear view of the mother ship now. Its lights twinkled against a dark background, and on the underside, it reflected a distorted yet vibrant reverse view of Olo’s surface.
Flash didn’t linger. The pod dropped, and swooped into position to re-enter the atmosphere. Soon he was enveloped by blue light, and sailed high above Olo’s ocean, losing altitude quickly. The speeding pod left a vapor trail in the thickening air as the ground seemed to rise toward him in his descent.
He slowed, and circled the plains, and touched down near the hangar where the pod was kept.
Bucket hovered outside the pod to greet Flash as he stepped onto the sparkling crystal tarmac. He was happy to hold those familiar objects again, and helped Flash deliver them to the museum.

Bucket was about to present a series of trivia questions that would reveal the locations of Olo’s portals. We know about the one beneath the arch… the one that Flash had used to reunite with Luuu after finding his inner child. This was the one that Archy traversed from the great beyond.
It had been a long game. People were getting tired, and the spaghetti squash wine made everyone forget the questions as soon as they were asked. In fact, they forgot that they were playing a game. Attention turned toward a table where a banquet had been laid out. The location of the portals remained a secret known only by Bucket and the dragons.
Everyone had a good time, and that’s the important thing.
Like the portals, there were other unseen features and objects on Olo.
I’ve told you about the bridges between the spires of the reef like mountains. Well, there was rumored to be an invisible bridge up there, somewhere. It was made of crystal, probably diamond, that was so pure that you couldn’t see it. There were no inclusions, no particulate matter to stop the light, nor would its surface reflect light, no matter how bright a beam was projected onto it. Imagine solidified air. It was like that, or so it was told. It was solid. You would trip over it, or run into it, if it lay across your path.
The Ololians played a game they called Bridge Combing, where a group would split off in the dark of night to search for it. Later, they would gather at a table, telling fantastic stories of stumbling across the bridge, and tall tales of what happened when they found it.
The invisible bridge was cemented into Ololian culture. Whenever someone transitioned… left their life on Olo for their next chapter, they were said to have crossed the invisible bridge.
Perhaps that’s why no one could find it. Everyone who solved the mystery went across it, and didn’t come back. Whatever lay on the other side of the span must be incredible if no one returned.
The next morning, the courtyard was filled with well wishers who had come to see the king and queen off. Buffy and Skip stepped off a small dock like balcony and onto the back of the white whale. The royal whale was the only one that had retained its original white color. The rest sported every color you could think of. In time, the baby whales were adorned in gradient hues. Deep rich tones at their dorsal ridge faded to a lighter shade of that color on their bellies. When this younger generation began producing offspring, many of them wore dazzling patterns in both of their parents’ colors.
A black whale calf with white spots that seemed to migrate across its body appeared at Flash’s balcony one day. It was too small to carry a rider, and just seemed to want to play or visit.

There was something familiar about this little one.

The king and queen were setting off on a tour of Olo. They would fly low, just over the treetops, making sure everything was ok. People would come out of their homes and wave up to them. They would call greetings up to the royal couple, and some of them would ask questions. Without advance warning of where they would eat dinner, the whale would set them down near a table, where they would feast on delicious but simple foods, and immerse themselves in deep conversations. These were diplomatic trips, but without any fanfare or fuss. Buffy and Skip wanted to know how the other Ololians lived, what they thought about, what caused them concern. Their goal was to blend in, though this wasn’t really a possibility. There was always great respect and genuflection, which the couple received graciously.
That black and white calf came back to Flash’s balcony day after day. All of the whales on Olo were friendly, taught by their family to interact with, and allow the people to climb onto their backs. This, and other instructions, were embedded into the language their ancestors knew. Without the whales, Olo would have retained its drab appearance. Their importance could not be overstated. While the king and queen had been on the planet before the transformation, and couldn’t recall another home before coming to Olo, the whales were a part of this landscape, literally emerging from the dusty soil.
One morning, Flash stood on his balcony, watching the morning light rake across the plains. The rays turned the crystals on in silent explosions of brilliant color. The little whale bobbed up and down playfully. Poikani entered Flash’s apartment, looking for the sphere. When he saw the calf, framed by the open doorway, and backlit by the sunrise, forming a halo, he froze. There was something about this young whale, beyond the color and how the patches of white traveled across its body.
Flash had wondered whether this might be Lem, in another form, come back to see him again. Poikani had no doubt.
Something caught Flash’s eye, moving slowly down the foothills toward the cobalt plateau. It was Buffy and Skip, returning home. When they reached the edge of the crystal plain, the calf turned away from the castle and raced to meet them. This was the calf of the royal whale.

It’s a bit strange to think that I have been writing one story for 25 years. Like my life over that time, the story has morphed to fit the lay of the land my path has traversed.
In the early days, I was mentoring creative young people in a wide variety of mediums. Photographs of them were the seed from which The Adventures of Flash Meridian grew. Those young humans also grew, and went off to settle in their own sector of the universe.
I wasn’t done, and so I adapted. My daughter, who was four years old when I began this project, morphed from the powerful little space girl to K.D. Bazinga, to the KD Head, to Flash Meridian’s daughter, living in the mountains of Olo.
I had to find the new characters in my mind, and so I populated my own universe with a floating bucket, a humming sphere, a benevolent king and queen, and my pets, who have comforted me in that world and this one. They have been joined by many others who have flown, swum or walked to my doorway. I lift the iron latch and pull the heavy door open to welcome them in, as I welcome you, reader.
As I, the writer, have gone through the transitions of life, the story has also changed in ways I couldn’t have anticipated. I grieved the losses along the way, unaware that the best was yet to come.

On the day Flash first met Buffy and Skip, it was as though they were wearing blinders. They were unable to see the beautiful world around them. They could only see a set of outdated rules that fought to keep them blind. It is natural that foundational teachings would stick. As their eyes slowly adjusted to the light, they had no alternatives. Just pain and disorientation. Flash had felt pity for them, unable to see that he, too, was blind.
Unlike him, they were able to quickly throw off the cloak of tyranny they had been forced to wear. He searched instead for the home he so desired, unaware that the crimson plain was his own welcome mat.
He had wanted to intervene on their behalf. To advocate for them. With all of his uncertainty and fear, he cast himself in the role of champion. Here were two people who survived the destruction of their entire planet, by orbiting above the annihilation of their world. Not only had they survived, they did so smiling and waving.
His let me show you how to… quickly turned to how did you do that? He had left Olo, feeling he was not a hero, but a threat.
He still had lessons to learn on his journey before he was ready to return. There were still others for him to learn from. Lessons of humility and humbleness.
Life on Olo was very different from life on earth. On Olo, there were no corporations. No advertising. There was no greed. Olo had no political parties, no medications, no junk mail. If you offered a television to an Ololian, they would probably ask what is it? When you told them, they would glance at the holograms, and then back at you with a quizzical look. They preferred to live their lives rather than watch simulations of strangers living lives on a screen. They would rather ride a whale than watch a documentary about whales.
I don’t mean to say that everyone on Olo is happy all the time. They feel every emotion. They grieve losses. They avoid uncomfortable situations. They lose their toys. Like I said, it’s just different. I’m not even saying life on Olo is better than life on earth. It’s not a competition. Flash preferred it, though it took some getting used to. Old habits die hard.
Unnecessary ideas and desires were slowly stripped away, and replaced by an Ololian mindset. At the same time, Flash retained his unique individuality. Because Olo was a painting of his life, he couldn’t have felt more at home. Actually, the line between self and the universe had blurred. He was reminded that while he was in the universe, the universe was in his body. He and the universe were one.
Flash hadn’t anticipated what life would be like if Lem transitioned, and went traveling in another dimension… If Bucket, Poikani and the sphere made other friends, and went their separate ways. Oh, they came to visit him in the castle from time to time, or he would meet them in the courtyard or out on the plains, but most of the time, he had to keep himself busy on his own, or with new friends. Change was the one thing that seemed to stay the same. It was that highway of life with its entrance and exit ramps. He just kept drifting down that straight stream. Who was the gondolier that propelled him, silhouetted against the panoramic scenes of his past experiences? He was comfortable on the soft cushions of his rear facing seat, and felt an urgency to appreciate every new day… every new moment he glided effortlessly into and through.
Everyone came to the castle one evening, Bucket, Poikani, the sphere, along with Mad and Luuu, Jewely and Aino. They raised their glasses (all but the sphere) to the wonderful, winding paths that brought them together for whatever time they would share. Bucket led a trivia game, which, thankfully to Jewely and Aino, was comprised mostly of questions about Olo. There were also questions referencing their time in the mother ship, and of their lives before meeting each other. This wasn’t unfair to those who had always lived on Olo. The stories were well known, only these questions went deeper, to lesser known facts hidden beneath, or before the holograms. Often, the subject of the question was the only one who could answer, and everyone else listened eagerly to the new information they would divulge.
A knock sounded from the door to the hallway, and Aino opened it to Eeli and Aada, who asked to join in. Of course they were welcomed with open arms. Any casual onlooker would have no idea that two in the group were royalty.

They were just friends who had come to have fun.

Bucket just knew things, the way the book did. Maybe this is what Lem had sensed about him. Such knowledge in another kind of person would be intimidating and potentially dangerous. In someone like Bucket, it was wonderful.
Bucket knew the location of the secret hiding place Flash’s brother had found in the farmhouse when they were children. He knew the exact weight of metal the table of elements was still missing since the production of the sphere. At this, the sphere beeped and whirred loudly. It vibrated until Poikani reassured it with a soft voice and gentle pets. Everyone laughed good naturedly. They played for hours, and then someone (I think it was Eeli) suggested they open a bottle of spaghetti squash wine.
Why not?

One day, there came a knock at Flash Meridian’s door. When he opened it, the corridor was empty. An envelope lay on a golden tray on the floor. He brought it inside and opened it. Unfolding the paper, he saw that it was an invitation from the king and queen. That very evening, they would host a viewing of historical documents in the library. The ornate lettering swooped about the page in reflective gold ink.
As the light began to fade behind the mountains, Flash made his way down the winding staircase in the tower. Holographic fishlike beings and small, winged humanoid figures swarmed in a cloud above him, darting in and out of focus as night slowly shrouded the castle walls.
Flash felt a growing anticipation. The formality of the invitation was unusual and the cryptic message intrigued him.

To what historical documents could the invitation refer? Olo’s history was told in holograms, which were familiar to everyone. They played out every day, to one degree or another, and were featured even more deliberately on festival days, retelling the cataclysm that inverted the structure of every particle of Olo.
Many new stories populated the history that grew on a daily basis since then, and up to a moment ago.
Could the documents be from another world? Perhaps a gift from the alien king and queen who had recently visited?
With each step, Flash descended deeper into a sense of wonder, and of wondering.
at last, he reached the main level, and passed through galleries that now twinkled only in the light of glowing crystals. Everything was still brightly lit, but the quality of light was different than daylight, of course. One gallery was carpeted in red, with tapestries and paintings in every color, but primarily shades of red. This room was lit by glowing rubies. Another, cloaked in mostly green, was lit by emeralds, and so on.
The library shimmered in every color, but was lit by clear diamonds. The brightness of this room presented in contrast to the softer hues that led to it.
Flash stepped into the library, and the queen approached him, looking radiantly angelic in a white gown.
Thank you for coming, she said in a soft whisper, and touched her cheek to his, first on the left, and then on the right.
Your majesty, he whispered in response.
It was an intimate gathering. No one was excluded, but those who were meant to be there were in attendance. Everyone was welcome, but it was, perhaps, not everyone’s cup of tea. Speaking of tea, Flash was offered a cup, and one was poured for him. The steaming brew was poured for him from an unadorned iron teapot.
When the king welcomed the group, he did so in a soft voice. This was a solemn occasion, and of course, it took place in a library.
He briefly recounted Olo’s much loved and celebrated history, and then, in an even quieter tone, explained that Olo had a prehistory that was not portrayed publicly. It was not broadcast in the courtyard or over the crystal lowland beneath the castle, but kept safe in a vault below the castle.
Not everything from before was lost in the upheaval, he continued, your cave predates that time, he said, looking at Flash.
These few documents also remain. He motioned toward a table, on which three boxes, or cases, sat. Under transparent sheets of diamond, lay the discolored, but still legible sheets. The calligraphy was illuminated by colorful illustrations.
Everyone took their time reading what was written there, which I will share with you now. They read the following:

The Chronicles of Olo

1

Long, long ago and far, far away, there was a planet which was occupied by only two people. The planet Olo, had strict rules banning anything fun. The two remote occupants secretly rebelled in their hearts, against the harsh decrees under which they lived. No music. No touching anything, ever. No self actualization. Just the rulebook, the study of which, took up much of their time and permeated every thought, dictated how they felt and what they were, (and more importantly were not) to do. Below the surface, there lurked something big. Something loud. Something colorful and happy. They were both aware of it but denied that it was there. Like a whale, or a pod of whales, it threatened to surface on their tiny, tiny planet, shattering the only world they had ever known, breaching and blowing crystal fragments into the atmosphere and transforming their dull gray vistas into something resplendent and unrecognizable. They had both found tiny pieces of this crystal in the dirt. They would look at them, wipe the colorless dust from them and hold them up to see the light of stars refracted through the sparkling facets. Marveling at the beauty, they would put the jewels into parcels and send them to each other from a safe and acceptable distance. The tiny planet pulsed with a vibration that spoke to them. The rulebook said that they must stand very still and count the pulses with a waving arm outstretched before them in case they were ever to have to lead a crowd in appreciating the sound. But when they were alone, traversing the dusty surface of Olo, they instinctually responded by laughing, singing and something that almost felt like dancing. This, the rulebook forbade and so they looked away ashamed. “We have everything we need right here in the rulebook,” they droned into the monotonous air. “We are blessed and happy!” their voices echoed. “Happy! Happy!” they bellowed into the emptiness. “Blessed and happy!” they cried, long, long ago and far, far away.

2

The first fragment pulled from the colorless dust of Olo was a white tooth shape. On earth, teeth were generally considered a part of a face. A detail, really, of one feature of the face. What set this tooth apart was that it had a complete face of it’s own. This leads the viewer to contemplate the ramifications of having a complete face on a single tooth. Were a person, dentist or not, to examine the mouth part of the face within the tooth, would they find there a complete set of teeth? If so, would those teeth have faces of their own? One might be caught in a never ending sequence of faces and teeth, caught like the paddler on the river Styx. A green car was also among the initial fragments… The treasures unearthed and sent discreetly… Each holding the mysteries of what lurked beneath the surface. But there the two inhabitants lived, on the surface, heeding the decrees to never go deeper. Still, they felt the rumbling vibrations, and they knew there was something there. Something wonderful. Perhaps something awful, yet they were entranced. While they sat still, as they were taught to do, they felt the tremors that threatened everything they had ever known. They dared not divert their gaze from the rulebook. While their faces stared, oblivious, their hearts raced in anticipation.  Face, upon tooth, upon face, upon tooth, upon face, upon tooth, upon face, upon tooth, upon face… And so they dared not move. They dared not divert their gaze. We are happy… Blessed and happy! they droned in spite of themselves.

3

A planet, even a small planet, is a big place for two people to live all alone. They had been told that they were never truly alone, but that the writer of the rulebook watched them every moment, keeping an account of their every deed so that one day he could judge them. And so they learned to act correctly at times. Still, a part of them wanted to act incorrectly, disturbing the tranquility of the planet with loud voices, blue jeans, laughter and tennis shoes. The young man even considered eating a Wednesday evening meal without wearing a necktie, though of course he didn’t say this out loud. The steady, rhythmic waves were continuous and unchanging, though they seemed louder when there was no other sound to compete with them. The young Ololians sometimes wondered how it might be if a syncopated beat were added. Or a touch of discord every once in a while. “We choose rather to err on the side of boredom.  We choose the bare minimum. We choose what is outdated because it has stood the test of time.” Heads bowed to the colorless dust that choked them, they chanted “Blandness… blandness… We are happy and bland… I mean blessed.”

Here was a part of the story Flash had not read in the book. He had wondered how Buffy and Skip could have gotten such a different message than he had on that first day when he walked the yellow path away from his spaceship. His eyes welled up with tears. There were hidden chapters of his own life that he had kept private as well. Their vulnerability and nobility in sharing these sacred documents made him love and respect the royal couple even more. More than he could express.

Flash stood on his balcony. It was a very bright morning, so he closed his eyes. The early morning light was warm on his skin, but a cool breeze caressed his body. It was quiet, except for the gentle sound of the wind over his ears. He took a deep breath and held it for a few moments. He went deep into his own body, the way he had walked the cave passage deep into Olo. He passed through layers of himself, noting aspects of his life journey that had brought him here. He thought of the energy he had put into trying to find a home, or contentment. He had expended mental and physical energy into his search, but when he stopped trying, it seemed to fall into his lap. The most wonderful and significant things came to him effortlessly, and by surprise. The highway of his life just seemed to naturally intersect with the roads others were traveling. This happened over and over with perfect timing. The invisible map he followed so obliviously had such synchronicity, such precision, that he never would have been able to conjure it on his own.
He could only look back on where he had been. Like the Ololian book, he couldn’t see what lay ahead, or who might be taking the entrance ramp onto the highway he traveled.
He remembered back to when he left Earth’s gravitational pull, embarking on that journey through his home solar system. He recalled the fear and uncertainty he had felt, and his acceptance of his hopeless situation.
He could not have imagined where it would take him. To this balcony, on this castle, inhabited by these friends, on this morning.
He opened his eyes slightly, squinting into the light, and onto the plain far below him.

Imagine that, he whispered to himself.

The dragons could access hidden portals that would take them anywhere they wanted to go. Distance meant nothing to them. Every spot in the universe was just on the other side of the door. This was just one of the many reasons dragons were considered magical. Because Eeli had befriended them, he had access to a universal delivery system. He really didn’t need or want anything, so it was rarely used. The dragons would bring him gifts from the far reaches of space. Just trinkets that had no context, and he could only imagine what they might be used for elsewhere.
He did want to get his sister a nice birthday gift. People on Olo usually gave something they had made, or a hug or compliment.
Eeli wanted to do something different. To give her something no one else could offer… a teapot. The teapot that was orbiting somewhere between Earth and Mars, too small to be seen by telescopes.
The dragon grew excited, and smoke began billowing from his nostrils at the thought of it.
The dragon flew up into the air, and vanished over the forest. Eeli wondered how long it might take, and whether this request was even possible. There was some question as to whether the teapot existed at all. If it was out there, floating amongst asteroids, it might be difficult to find.
A few moments after the dragon dipped below the horizon, it reappeared, bounding back toward him over the trees.
It landed in front of the Prince, clutching a small object in its claws. It held the object out to Eeli, and he reached out to take it. It was a teapot. The heat from it was so great that he pulled his hand away. The dragon smoldered with the same heat, and set the pot down.
The teapot itself was unremarkable. It had no decoration. Its surface was black, made of iron. Unremarkable, except that it was perfect. A perfect, metallic, teapot-shaped asteroid. Like Bucket, it had been made at the beginning of the universe, as a special gift for Aada.
After she unwrapped the teapot, one of the castle helpers whisked it off to the kitchen to make a pot of tea. Eeli didn’t want to take the focus off of Aada, so he didn’t bother mentioning where the teapot came from.
Flash went down to the yellow pod and also got a birthday present for Aada. He ordered up a box of Cracker Jack from the table of elements.
What is it? She asked.
It is an American brand of snack food that consists of molasses-flavored, caramel-coated popcorn and peanuts, well known for being packaged with a prize of trivial value inside.
Aada glanced at the banquet table, and then back at Flash with a quizzical look. Flash once again had a feeling of déjà vu, and missed his friend Lem.
Later on, she opened the prize, and like Poikani, found a joke book with only one joke.

When is a teapot not a teapot?

As Princess Aada grew, she looked more and more like her mother. In fact, some people had difficulty telling them apart.
She is a piece of me, the queen explained at Aada’s birthday celebration, just as we are all parts of each other. We are all facets cut onto the jewel of the universe. When you see your own reflection, you look into the faces of your ancestors. You are the one they have been waiting for. Like the whales that once swam below the soil, we swim through a sea of each other.
As she said this, the holograms which flooded the state room began to dance and shimmer in the air. A sinuously winding shadow fell across and through the wall, causing flashes of light that sparked and blazed within the serene images. This was unlike the common movement of the whales that circled in a gentle loop. Aada stepped out onto the balcony, followed by her mother and her birthday guests. At first, she saw nothing unusual. Suddenly, a red dragon rose up against the castle wall, just feet from the outdoor platform. Aada’s hair blew back, and she recoiled in the wind and heat from the enormous beast. A familiar cry rang through the air. It was a jubilant yell. When the dragon turned toward them, Aada saw her brother on its back.
Birthday blessings to you, sister, he called out. Here’s to many more happy days ahead!
Eeli! The princess shouted after him,

come and have some cake!

He was already a speck against the cobalt plateau by this time, and when he doubled back over the crimson plain, his dragon seemed to vanish, camouflaged, as it was the color of rubies.
The slightly disheveled group went back indoors, feeling even more relaxed and unceremonious.
When Eeli returned to his suite in the castle, he found a piece of cake on his pillow. The decoration showed the curling form of a dragon, piped in red frosting.

When Flash thought of his previous life on Earth, he thought of it the way Buffy and Skip thought of their life on Olo before the whales broke free. Theirs had been a dull existence, without vitality. Asking questions was frowned upon, and having fun was forbidden.
I told you a while back, that when Flash orbited Olo on his first descent, he looked for anything unusual, and that it was all unusual. I haven’t told you what he saw on the other side of the planet.
He saw an ocean. Because Olo is so much smaller than the Earth, you might call their ocean a lake. While it was smaller than Earth’s oceans, it was larger than any lake on Earth. Call it what you like, it was a huge body of water that fed the silver rivers and lakes I’ve told you about already.
All of this water was breathable to people like you and me. There were many structures deep below the surface. Like the castle, this how the crystals came together when everything settled. These depths were largely unpopulated, leaving many more wonders to be discovered in time.
I can’t be sure, but I think the water may have once been at Olo’s core before everything was turned inside out. Perhaps the whales lived in this dark subterranean sea beneath the soil, like earth’s blind cave fish. This also might explain their initial white appearance. Your guess is as good as mine. This isn’t a science book. Science was largely rejected in those early days when rules were most important. You get the point. I know you don’t need a brick wall to fall on your head. A stone wall. A wall of jewels. Again, you get the point.
Prince Eeli was one of the more adventurous ones, and he enjoyed being one of the first to explore beneath the waves. He’d originally gone there on whaleback. He found the dragons there, and they quickly became his preferred mode of transportation, being so much faster and more aerobatic than the whales.
He would ride the dragons into the depths where they looked like giant seahorses. The buildings at the bottom of the sea blazed in ribbons of colored light, and danced in the currents, which distorted their forms in a dreamy way. They shone against a dark background, and streams of bubbles rose from them like ropes of diamonds. Figurative statues appeared to move, and Eeli was sure they were communicating an urgent, but secret message in a yet uninterpreted sign language. They were colossal, yet inviting, arresting the prince in a quiet and respectful gaze.
Eeli traveled along just above the submerged structures, marveling at their beauty and intricacies, much the way he flew above the edifices on the crystal plain and castle above. Being less dense than the concentrated water on Earth, light traveled deep into the chasms and trenches, and the colors tended to be cool, primarily in blues, greens and purples. This only made the warm colors stand out more. The yellow of citrines and diamonds, the reds of rubies, garnets, even emeralds, and the oranges of carnelian, fire opal and topaz burned in the depths.
Rounding an undersea cliff, a surprise came into view. A fire blazed, fathoms below the surface. How could this be? White at its center, it faded to yellow. Flames danced in orange and red, flickering, and sending embers and smoke into the dark water around it. It reflected off the cliff wall, and Eeli was intrigued. Approaching the bonfire, he saw blue beneath the white, which dropped down between diagonal pillars of rock that resembled trunks and branches of trees. Even in Olo’s less dense water, fire would not burn.
Not until he was nearly on top of it, did Eeli see that this was made of huge shards of crystal that caught the light and projected holographic flames through and around it.
This was an eternal flame, so long as stars glowed in the universe.

After the royal guests departed Olo, all of the gems they had swallowed were retrieved from the chamber pots in their suites. Not only were they clean, they sparkled more brightly, having been tumbled inside the visitors. These stones eventually went into the museum, being unique among the planet’s many gems.
Nothing was found to have been lost from the jewels after they had been smelled, tasted, ingested, tumbled and excreted. Flash read in the book that these rock eaters shared in the spirit of the stones. Perhaps those who don’t understand simply do not possess the particular receptors necessary to interface with them in the same way. Everyone is different.

The new wing featured an exhibit celebrating Olo’s pumpkins, which came in a vast array of colors and shapes. Most were grown for food, of course, but some were prized for their decorative qualities. They looked like bells and lanterns. Some appeared to have faces, not from carving, but natural countenances in a wide variety of expressions. Among these, some had the ability to talk. On Earth, this would be disconcerting, but then, buckets and metallic spheres aren’t usually known for intelligence on Earth, either. They didn’t eat the talking pumpkins. These more animated types interpreted the exhibit. No one worked for money on Olo, they just fulfilled their roles by being who they already were, doing what they would do anyway.
In the same way, the pages and other support personnel in the castle weren’t obligated to be there, or help out. They just did what they wanted to do, and that often involved assisting someone, or cleaning something.
Some Ololians love to cook. Others prefer to eat. It all works out.

No one would judge anyone who preferred to lay in bed all day, but we’ve already gone over that.

You could drink a glass of pumpkin wine, and be welcomed into Mr. Pumpkinhead’s dreams.
Remember when I said the wine on Olo wouldn’t make you drunk? Well, if you imbibed Sylvia’s spaghetti squash wine, you would get pretty loopy. Still, everyone was welcome to try it.
One night, Aino stepped out into her garden and unfurled her wings. Yes, she had gossamer wings, like a butterfly. She usually kept them folded. Walking was her normal way of getting around. Why? I don’t know. Maybe it was that she didn’t want to show off. It wasn’t always the time to fly. It was different for her than it was for Bucket or the whales. They didn’t have legs for walking. She had a choice. On this particular night, Aino saw a bright light across the plain, and was drawn to it. Her wings seemed to have a mind of their own. She couldn’t have stayed on the ground if she tried. It was as though her wings flapped themselves. She found herself aloft, flying out toward the castle. The ground fell away below her. She weaved back and forth, up and down, and even made graceful loops in the cool night air. Her heart swelled as she felt the breeze on her face, and her meandering path led her towards the castle tower. She realized she wasn’t alone. The gift of flight was not uncommon on Olo, but on this night, many who usually walked on the ground found themselves looking down, like stars, from the night sky. Even Flash Meridian had hovered here by surprise once.
The images on Olo’s surface were visible at night, not in intense color like they were during the day, but their outlines twinkled and shimmered gently as the crystals released absorbed light.
As she neared the tower, the air became busy with others who were also drawn to it. They circled the top of the tower, and the whole sky seemed to ring with laughter and squeals of delight. This was another of Olo’s celebrations. The top floor of the tower, just below the steep roof, was open, a viewing platform with a beacon that burned bright in every direction. Aino landed on the deck, breathless and almost blinded in the intense glow.
She heard a voice.
Aino? When her eyes adjusted, she saw Jewely. His wings were nearly invisible, except for the way they reflected the light. They looked into each others’ eyes. The flurry of activity around them fell away. The commotion just vanished, and they were lost in that intentional, prolonged gaze. They couldn’t hear or see anything in the past. Nothing in the future, because they didn’t exist. This moment was all they had. All there was.
As morning light began to dilute the night, they leapt from the tower.
When Flash had plummeted from the sky onto the tail of the whale, he didn’t have wings to help with his descent. Nor had he realized at first that he was hovering in the air, and he didn’t make a decision to go back down. Still, he was safe in a situation he did not control. All this to say that it was not such a big leap of faith for Aino and Jewely to launch from the tower. Still, it was a thrill. Neither of them normally flew on their own. You’ll recall that Jewely rode the golden whale to the reef like mountains. Flight was reserved for those rare occasions when they had no choice but to fly. It was not a convenience, but a primal impulse.

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Full Moon

from the MISTER PUMPKINHEAD tab at the top of this page

A shuffling sound awakened Mr. Pumpkinhead one night. A full moon shone down on the pumpkin patch. He rose to the full height of his vine body and could see something moving near the tomato plants.
The pale light cast deep shadows in the blue air, but it was still too dark to see clearly. He lit the candle in his head, and the beam projected triangular puddles of light from his eyes and nose.

Sylvia, the enchanted spaghetti squash, walked in circles, muttering.
Mr. Pumpkinhead approached her and asked, Is everything ok?
My head is full of noodles, she replied.
I can’t find my way out of the garden.
Where are you going in the middle of the night? he asked.
It’s day! she exclaimed. Look at how bright it is!
It’s a full moon, he reassured, and helped her back to her bed where she fell asleep amongst the other gourds.
Now Mr. Pumpkinhead was wide awake and he was craving macaroni and cheese!

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Up in his apartment, high in the castle, Flash opened the book. He was doing a little research before heading down to the banquet with his family. It dawned on him that the book had come home. Buffy and Skip had tossed it aside down on the plain the day he had met them, and so much had changed since then. Mad seemed to have more insight than Flash did, at least about certain things. The portraits appeared in the book as they were made. Looking at the images, Flash remembered how he was concerned, meeting the magenta alien in his dream. He had wondered what bad thing had happened, when he saw the drooping eyelid that partially concealed the milky iris of the alien’s eye. In reality, that drooping lid and seemingly damaged eye, was what that being considered their best feature. Mad looked over Flash’s shoulder, and pointed out that beauty is subjective. Daddy, she said, those things we see as flaws can become something that we love about ourselves. What we see as weaknesses can become strengths if we accept and embrace them. She was right. When Flash saw his own reflection, he saw an old man looking back at him. This was not a pleasant thought. What he didn’t see was that age brought experience. He had something to offer because of all the time he had spent doing and seeing amazing things. Mad had a freshness to her perspective that brought light to Flash’s understanding. He brought a seasoned perspective that had insight and value. There are things we can change, and things we can not change. There is nothing wrong with you, Flash said, turning to Mad and Luuu. I love you just the way you are.
His child and grandchild just smiled. They were used to this.
Right, he said, glancing around the room. Are you ready to head downstairs?
Bucket and Poikani stayed behind with the sphere, and Flash swung the heavy door open. People were milling about in the bright corridor. Everyone wore fancy clothes and the whole castle was in a festive mood. Walking past a table, Luuu picked a gem from a silver dish, thinking it was karkkia, but then realized it was just an emerald. He put it back. They passed a sitting area, and heard laughter ringing out from a party visiting. They sipped goblets of the king’s wine, and they visited with him… not in the flesh, but he was there the way Flash’s inner child walked with him.
By the time they made it down the winding staircase to the ground level, they went right into the banquet hall, and were escorted to their seats, which were padded with soft velvet cushions. The vaulted ceiling danced with sparkling scenes of the guests’ home planet. The view dove into a canyon below, and seemed to hover and rotate, revealing Flash Meridian himself, sitting on an outcropping of rock, in conversation with a magenta person who resembled their king and queen. When the pink alien licked the rock face, the alien royalty stood, holding up stones that they clinked together in a toast. They tossed the crystals into their mouths, and everyone preset broke into cheers and applause, taking sips of their wine, or tossing karkkia into their mouths, too.
Course after course was served, and between them were speeches and holographic presentations.

Everyone, young and old alike, was entertained and validated.

Flash addressed the crowd, recounting, as best he could, the conversation he had had in that dream. He also told of the rocklike giant he had met on the mountaintop, and then shared his daughter’s words. When he finished, he held his arms out toward the visitors before sitting down. The visiting queen stood, and took a big bite of salad. Yes, she ate a plant, and did her very best not to look disgusted. Her husband then stood and popped a red karkkia slice into his mouth, pretending it was an actual ruby. There was not a dry eye in the house. Skip stood, pulling Buffy’s chair back slightly, and they symbolically placed rubies into their mouths, but did not swallow. Those at the head table hugged each other, celebrating their differences, and finding true friendship and respect.