Dragonfly Dreams, Part Thirteen

Chuck looked over at Harry McCain. It had been a tiring day so far…and the day was just getting started. A fly was buzzing around his head. With a swat of his hand, the fly disappeared. He felt a tingle on his arm and glanced down at it. There it was….a brand new tattoo of a fly. He doubted if he would be able to use that later for any practical purpose…but one never knew.

Harry grinned, “Since when did you start making tattoos out of little things like that? I thought you were more of a monkey man.”

“True,” Chuck said, “Monkeys are more valuable as far as causing commotions and such. But everything has its place. Surely you know that.”

Harry nodded his head toward Irza’s door, “What do you think is going on in there?”

“I don’t know mate,” Chuck said, “But if we need to know, we’ll find out. Hasn’t that always been our motto?”

“Right you are sir,” Harry said, but he stole another long look at Irza’s house. Chuck could tell that he was worried about what was going to happen.

And if by sheer thought alone, the door opened. A dazed looking Frank Mason stepped outside, squinting in the bright sunlight of the Brazilian countryside. He took a step forward…and then collapsed to his knees.

“FRANK!” Chuck yelled running toward him. It was his job to take care of Frank…to make sure that he got where he needed to go. The company…the Gaia Corporation…was paying him a lot of money to make that happen. He didn’t need Frank going all loopy now. What had Irza done to him?

“Frank,” Chuck repeated, catching the man before he could fall face first into the dust, “Hey mate…you okay? Harry! Get him some water….NOW!”

“Ammm okaaaaay,” Frank said. But his eyes weren’t right. They weren’t focused on anything. Instead they were just staring off into space, like he was seeing something far, far away.

Chuck asked, “Did you see Irza? Did she tell you what to do?”

Frank looked up at him at the mention of Irza’s name, “Irza? Oh yeeessss. I saw….I saw.”

Chuck knew that it had to have been a shock for Frank to see the old woman. To see who she looked like….who she was an exact copy of. Well…almost. Irza hadn’t had the privilege of wealth to keep her young and beautiful. Plus….it seemed that the copies…the clones…aged faster than normal. He knew that Irza wouldn’t be alive much longer.

“Irza,” Frank was mumbling again, “The one who has seen the face of God.”

“Well,” Chuck said, “That’s what they say. But then again…you don’t believe in God, so what do they know anyway?”

Harry came running up with a bowl of water. He gave it to Chuck who tried to get Frank to drink….but he wouldn’t.

“Look at the poor chap,” Harry said, “He is just staring off at nothing. What did she do to him?”

“I don’t know,” Chuck said, dipping his hand into the water and sprinkling it on Frank’s flushed face, “But whatever it was, it sure did a number on him.”

Frank began to mumble softly to himself. No…Chuck realized that he wasn’t mumbling…he was…

“Singing,” Chuck said slowly, “The guy is singing to himself.”

Both Chuck and Harry strained to listen to the low notes that Frank was singing…but it was hard to make it out. It was a strange tune….fast and low. They watched in amazement as Frank reached down and began to draw in the dust. His fingers worked quickly, making strange patterns and a hashing of crisscross lines.

“What’s he doing?” Harry hissed between his teeth.

“I don’t know mate,” Chuck whispered back, “But I’m not about to stop him to ask. Are you?”

Just then a shot rang out at the far end of the village…followed by screams. Chuck turned toward the sound. What in the world was going on?

The screams grew louder as villagers started running past him. Another shot rang out.

“Go get your gun Harry,” Chuck said, “Pronto!”

In the distance, running toward them, Chuck saw the cause of all the commotion.

“It seems that our lovely Miss Janet Jones has found us!” Chuck said, “I want to put a stop to her for once and for all. My dance card is full but she won’t take no for an answer!”

Harry ran off to get his gun. Chuck turned back toward Frank. He had to get him somewhere safe…away from that psycho Jones. She would stop at nothing, it seemed. He stopped and stared at the lines that Frank had drawn in the dirt.

It was a crude drawing…but there was no mistaking the picture for what it was: a giant dragonfly. Frank however was nowhere to be seen. He had vanished!

“Well that just makes my day,” Chuck muttered as a shot whizzed past his head.

Until next week….class dismissed!