I thought about Bruce Lee in the film Enter the Dragon. The forces were closing in on him and he sat on the floor crosslegged and waited. I did the same, I sat for hours it seemed but the digital clock on the white metal table registered no time at all. I wanted to get up and unroll the screens and see if I could make out anything else besides a blank expanse surrounding the sideways moving image of the young scientist. I decided against it as my eyes still burned; I remembered his hair was golden and he was exceedingly pale.
The dog became restless so I followed him outside and surveyed the area around the Outpost. There were no tracks, save our own, but I sensed someone had been around, leaving a vaporous trail that seemed to be agitating the dog. I widened the perimeter of our scouting. I felt fine, it was cold, but a dry quiet cold that did not cut through my protective clothing. I found a small block of dark chocolate in one of the pockets and ate it slowly.
I noticed the stars and the moon were yet visible, though it was clearly daylight. I became aware of crossing tones, vague sounds in the distance that slowly revealed themselves. I could make out a long dark guitar solo, maybe Jimmy Page, and then the higher edges of the voice of Robert Plant. I couldn’t hear it distinctly but I was sure it was Since I’ve been Loving You, I recognized the squeak on the drum pedal and a plethora of cascading frenzied and desperate frequencies.
I searched for a radio, maybe a boombox or some shortwave with high powered batteries. It had to come from somewhere but there was nothing except the inside of my head. The dog followed at my heels, then took off toward a mound where the tips of black brambles were jutting through melting patches in the snow. He was digging around for something and laid it at my feet. Just a piece of tattered cloth, a stained handkerchief caught in the underbelly of the bush.
There were actual berries and I thought to pluck them but thought better of it. I had the feeling this had all happened before but I shook it off. We’re in present time I said aloud. Drag, drag he was singing and I slipped the evidence in my inside pocket. One day, God willing, I would be able to place it in the hands of the Secretary. But in truth, at that moment, beneath the white-on-white sky, the fragment of hope in my pocket, I had a sense of the credits rolling; the end of a movie and only a sequel would get me back home.
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