August Moone
Timing Is Everything
Chapter Seven
There and Back Again

	Hearing the whine of the highway August knew that the left front was about to go.  It was blazing hot and the damn truck had only that 2/60 air conditioning.  His young mind was still filled with terror.  Terror and confusion.  Only half he understood, the rest was lost in a field of forever confusion.  Slowly he eased the heavy wrecker off the highway and onto the gravely shoulder.  Once stopped he sighed, then chuckled to himself, it was ironic--the truck was designed to help other motorist with blown tires--and yet, here he was with one himself--and no spare!
	Checking the tire the tread was peeling for sure.  The heat was sweltering and August felt utterly exhausted.  The things that had happened to him he continued to push down--deep down and away, he didn’t want to think about them, not just yet anyways.
	He was on long stretch of road between Kayenta and Tuba City.  Black Mesa loomed behind him, Three Mesas off to the southeast aways.  Not a cloud in the sky, just the continuously boiling broiling sun. 
	There was nothing to do but lean against the truck and sulk.  Those things that had happened tried vehemently to reach the surface of his mind, just as vehemently he drove them back.  He assumed that they would return in his dreams…
	Presently a Western Express truck rumbled by and came to a stop.  August was thankful, very thankful and the driver took August into Yuba City.  After a bit of lunch he got a lift (with a new tire) back out to his wrecker from a fellow tow truck operator.  August used Mr. Peter’s credit card for the emergency and wondered how the old fart was going to take it--Yuba City was about the limit of August’s range, anything beyond that and old man Peter’s had conniptions.
	Oh well.  Fuck him.  August fumed at his dilemma and changed the tire in the still increasing temperatures then made his run back to the yard where he belonged.
	Thankfully along the way a stranded motorist flagged Auggie down, not one but TWO flat tires and something amiss with the engine.  It was too damn hot to fuck with it (the engine) now, August hooked the stranded car up and returned to the yard--where a slightly annoyed Mr. Peter’s stood waiting.
	But with the customer in distress and all, the angry wrecking man cooled his heels and went to work gouging.  August snuck off and took a LONG shower.  He lay flopped out on his bed butt bare assed naked and off to slumber land.
	Rudely (and thankfully) interrupted by Mr. Peter’s yelling at him to go fetch another stranded motorist in distress.  Thankfully as the tom-toms and horse’s hooves had just began.

	He was working the everlasting grease out from under his broken nails when suddenly, “SHIT!” he bellowed out loud.  Quickly he dashed out of his cruddy crappy trailer and out to the service truck, the wrecker.  Stashed behind the seat was his “booty” bag.  He had forgotten about all the day long.
	Back inside the trailer, shutting the door the contents of the bag were laid out on the bed.  The evaporative cooler he turned down so as not to cause such a disturbance.  Four computers, laptop computers.  An assortment of odds and ends “acquired” from the government installation and a couple handfuls of old gold coins.
	The coins he set aside, wrapping them up in some of the sailcloth from the pirate ship.  It was a trying thing to keep the memories of that adventure at bay--every waking moment (and sleeping one) was filled with constant memories of Charlie, the tunnel creatures, and the Indians.
	The first laptop seemed to be well locked and difficult to open.  He let it be.  Another opened and it looked it over, it was in perfect condition.  He fretted, though, over the government tags nailed in place.  If he was going to hock the computers he would have to remove their ID.
	The third computer wasn’t quite like the others, it was smaller and designed differently.  Opening the lid he found it was not quite like the other computers at all--it was laid out differently with multi mini-LCD screens with the single main LCD screen on the “lid: stretching out eight inches lengthwise with four inches width.
	There was no governmental tag IDs on it, either.  August didn’t know what to make of it.  (If he knew then--)  But he didn’t.  It wasn’t very heavy, not like the others.  It was a little darker gray than the others, too.  August didn’t know what to make of it, he just didn’t.  He stared at it for a long while, then tucked it under his bed.  It was a keeper.
	Come the morning he hurriedly struck out for the city’s pawn shop area.  He knew of a place specializing in Hard-to-Get-Rid Of but Needed to Items.  No questions asked and that sort of thing.  August had a sort of relationship with the owner/operator, they both had their eyes on the young fare that wandered the downtown area, dabbled in child pornography and once had taken advantage of a lost teenage girl down from the bus station.
	The laptops, minus the special one, August’s friend liked and had a special way to remove the GI tags without anyone knowing.  The other various IDs could be removed easily and replaced with new ones easily.
	$1,500 each for the laptops.  August was cool with that.  He departed and made his way to the other side of town where he entered a small established catering to old and new coins.
	The owner here August had observed his secretary (all the while his WIFE was outside in the Lexus.)  Good things to know…
	The coins garnered him a total of $7,000!
	August was more than pleased.

					*****

	Lazy Eye didn’t use modern day medicines--not when better medicines could be gleaned from nature.  Such as was the case for August’s wounds.  Lazy Eye the local (and only) medicine man applied a healing suave to exterior wounds and stitched up the hole in August’s side.  Good rot gut whiskey aided in this non-anesthesia outpatient visit.  Thereafter August knew no more for some time to come.
	When he DID awake he had a tremendous headache, his shin and side hurt, and especially his stomach--the rot gut whiskey apply applied.  It was dark out, he could tell that; he was laying prone (and naked) in some bed in some small room.  He felt--awful.  He had felt better.  His mind flashed back to his first adventure experience--”You’d rather be back there?” he yapped to himself.  
	After drawing a breath, farting, scratching his balls he swung his legs over and set up.  The room was kind of bland, bare, lifeless.  He at first had to get a grip and hope (and pray) that he was not experiencing yet another fucked up dreammare.
	At the door he peered out and saw bare bulbs, smelled the rustic antiques and heard bed springs.  He smiled and made his way down the short hall, peering into a large bedroom where on a large cast iron bed Deputy Arlene Flowers was cuffed to the posts while Standing Bear banged her.  The woman thrashed about madly, her wrists already showing signs of long wear. 
	Also in the room by the wall was Monica, positioned on an odd shaped chair--an inverted chair, the seat portion pouched out to form a sort of impromptu “A” frame in chair form.  Monica was lashed to this while Standing Bear’s son had his way with the woman from behind, spanking her and fucking her good.
	August paused and watched for a while, found himself massaging his now stiffened woody, then turned to lean against the hall wall.  He continued to play with himself and listen to the sounds of Monica and Arlene getting doinked.
	Finally the bed springs quit making noises, moments later the big Hopi-Italian/Irish Indian eased out, strands of cum oozing from his wilting schlong.
	“Sorry old pal, couldn’t wait.” jeered Standing Bear.
	August chucked and let it go, he peeked his head into the room, Joshua was still tagging Arlene, spanking her and very determined to get his nut.
	“The others?” August asked out of curiosity.
	“Down the hall.” his friend smiled.  The two men moved down the hall, August still smarting from his wounds but they were healed and discomfort would only last a short while.
	“I thought you were going to put in some air conditioning?” bitched August as the came to the end of the short hall.
	“I did,” replied Standing Bear, “put in a new window on the other side.”

	Carlie looked up as the thin storage door opened.  A few cots were in this room, some mattresses on the floor, general purpose room for all things naughty.  On the single bed with her were her equally frightened (and now naked) siblings, Jason & Amy.
	Carlie swallowed a huge lump and tightened up her young naked body.  Her blue eyes wide focused solely on August, her original Tormentor.  The two naked men came in, shutting the door behind them.
	Jason and Amy clung to one another, August moved to sit on the edge of the bare mattress.  Carlie moved only slightly, her big wide eyes still focused on him solely.  Standing Bear came and stood on the other side of the bed, masturbating, strands of his spunk still drizzling from his schlong.  
	“Lay down.” August said, directing his command to Carlie.
	The little girl hesitated for a moment, but only a moment and then she began inching down.  August’s eyes fell to her poon, her bare bald naked poon.  Slowly his balls surged, he was relatively certain that Standing Bear hadn’t fucked her, waiting until August was up and ready.  August had already previously pegged the little girl, he remembered it fondly--as did the little girl.
	Jason and Amy.  August was fairly certain that they, too, were “untouched.”  They had been cleaned up and bathed but nothing more.  (That August knew of.)  
	Automatically little Carlie opened her legs, pursing her lips and keeping her still pretty eyes locked onto her Tormentor.  August went down on the child, latching onto her delicate flower wholly with his mouth, blowing hot breath into her sex followed by his delving tongue.  
	The wriggled about, clutching at the bare mattress and whimpering just slightly.  August began digging his finger up into her poop chute further sending the child into oblivion.
	Standing Bear massaged his schlong and seized up young Amy, feasting his eyes on young Jason.  Amy he brought down onto the bed and rolled her over onto her stomach, he then positioned brother Joshua up at Amy’s head and forced the four year old to suck her brother.
	Carlie began bucking as the sensations of August’s tongue tantalized her.  She spread her legs wider and held onto the bed as August continued his hellish deed.  Standing Bear worked Amy’s head up and down six year old brother Jason’s cock while he himself worked his prong up and down Amy’s ass crack.
	“You got any more videos?” Standing Bear asked as he released Amy’s head and had her suck her brother on her own.
	August pulled up from Carlie’s cunt and brought his schlong up against her, gouging her pussy and preparing to enter into once more.  He nodded, “Yeah, one recently from a dude ranch, pretty good stuff.”
	“Anything with these ones?”
	“Yep, them too.” August gushed and slipped his prick into Carlie’s snatch.  The girl winced, tightened up, mouth opened, gulping for air, eyes as wide as possible feeling every horrible inch of August’s cock sliding into her.
	“Just relax.” August cooed.  He kept his voice calm while he did his deed.  Standing Bear brought young Amy’s ass up to him and he began a steady bout of prodding her still virginal backdoor.
					*****

	“Dancing Elk still around?”
	“When he’s sober.”
	The night air was cool, August puffed on a “loaded” peace pipe offered by Standing Bear.  A million stars twinkled in the clear night, there was a partial moon illuminating the dreadful desert-scape, a coyote howled and bats could be heard zoning in on their prey.
	“You wanna see him?”
	“Yeah.”
	Another puff followed by a sip, August hadn’t said “how” he had acquired his wounds, it was a thing between them--no questions asked.  None were needed, anyhow; both dabbled in bizarre and illicit things, both helped provide assistance and “cover” and besides, Standing Bear wasn’t a stupid man--Arlene Flowers was in deputy clothes.
	“He still run that sweat lodge?”
	“Uh-huh.” then, “You want him to set it up?”
	“Uh-huh.”  August needed a soul cleansing, or something.  Every so often when the weigh of the world got to be too much August made a trip to see his Indian friend and make use of a general use Indian ceremony; The Sweat lodge.  Normally it was used for the young braves (way back when) who were about to go on a hunt; they went strip down and utilize the sweat lodge to cleanse their bodies so as thereafter the animals they hunted (buffalo, deer, elk, etc.) could not detect them.
	The sweat lodge was just that, a lodge of sweat.  It was a small hut concealed by natural foliage with one way in and a small opening in the top.  In the center was a hole.  It was here that piles of rocks that had been “cooking” in a fire were placed and after the door had been secured shut cups of water was poured onto the hot rocks thus filling the tight enclosure with steam.
	The steam caused whoever within to sweat, and lots of it.  Their would be chanting, singing, and purifying of one’s mind, body, and soul.  August felt that the time had come for such a cleansing.  He still very much detested the death of the helicopter pilot.
	He crashed in a room provided for him without much ado for anything else.  He didn’t even have a buzz from the happy smoke he had shared with Standing Bear.  He lay awake for a long time, listening to the lone coyote howling and the bats zipping around.
	Oh how his life had changed since acquiring the strange governmental laptop.  In the days that followed after his desert adventure and discovering that in his possession he did not have just any ordinary governmental laptop computer, his path had indeed been chosen.  Charlie had warned him about choosing his path.  “You step outta this canyon you’ll have some choices to make.” the old man had told him.  “Choices, decisions, a path to destiny.”
	August had no clear idea if he had made the right one or not.  With his new found “wealth” he moved out of Mr. Peter’s trailer and into a newer trailer in a regular trailer park.  He also bought his first own vehilce, continued to work for the wrecking yard but hoped to branch out into something new by taking classes at the local junior college.
	It was here that he got his first inclination of what he had tucked under his bed.  Science classes, political, governmental, research & development.  All tied together with bits and pieces with strung together assimilations of other interesting tidbits from the world wide web.  August had gotten himself a personal laptop, hooked up to the web and went “surfing.”
	Deciphering what he been thru and the newly acquired GI Item 0110 took a while.  (the GI Item 0110 was a part of the nametag braided onto the bottom of the Device.)  It was two months before August finally managed to even turn the dang thang on!  But he was still a long ways away from fully comprehending the complexities of the device-laptop.
	…until one day Fate once more reared its head and stepped in.
	Working for Mr. P had its perks, its lowdowns and problems, like any job.  The perks were the ability to snag abandoned cars and turn them into profit with very little effort.  This allowed August to begin seriously saving some dough.  Every now and then he was tempted--tempted to make another run out to the Pirate ship beyond the Tunnel Creatures’ domain.  
	He was just tempted, he wouldn’t actually do it.  Being butt fucked by the tunnel creatures was one thing, but victimized by the Indians was just too much to take!
	From various professors he learned about quantum physics, time displacement, relativity, general physics and alternate dimensions.  Most didn’t believe wholly in what they preached, it was just the general rhetoric.  August took heavy notes and mulled them over with what he had actually experienced.
	He soon began to work part-time at the on-site bookstore, scamming books and filling his head with more and more substance of things he did not understand.  And he told NO ONE about his experience.
	One night he came to order pizza.  Not an unusual thing, but he was stressed (at school and Mr. Peter’s wife was aware of the man’s Phoenix trips--she was hounding the gruff wrecking yard fart and causing problems for him--and you know the old adage--shit rolls down hill.  August was catching flak from Mr. Peter’s so he stayed out of the Yard as much as possible.)
	He had begun getting into the dynamics of computer science, programming, alternate dimensional theories, quantum mechanics, and trying to decrypt the heavily encrypted Device Item 0110.  So he was distracted and not aware of someone knocking on his trailer door.
	Upon answering the door--there stood the pizza delivery person holding a large salami/Hawaiian Pizza w/extra cheese.  Generally speaking, “So what?”
	So what was the pizza delivery person was 18 and wore tight black Levi jeans with a tight red pullover top with the logo of the pizza joint August had called (and forgot about.)
	And she was cute.
	And August was nude.
	He had taken a shower and his mind got distracted by the conjecture that physics had been developed in such a way that it could be regarded as an actual existent field distributed throughout three dimensional space.  (Which would sort of explain August being in the “transition” world--he was an outsider in one dimension, stepping thru a “doorway” into another dimension.  The dimension he had come into--the secret governmental installation, was merely out of sync with August--or something like that--he was out of sync (in time relatively speaking).  It was how he could move about unnoticed and be naughty to the secretaries.  It was why the food and drinks tasted so bland, they were somewhat lifeless.  Only becoming filling and tasty when “time” caught up with them--and August.
	So, he forgot he had pizza coming and forgot he was naked.
	It was an awkward moment.  For the two of them.  The girl at her age had certainly seen a naked guy before, August was some years older than the senior and had begun to grow a slight beard.
	Bashfully he backed out of the way and furiously searched for his wallet.  He knocked over his laptop on the single dinning table and then knocked over a pitcher of lemonade and THEN knocked over the Device Item 0110.
	Upon hearing the multiple crashes the pizza girl popped her head in, “Are you alright?” she asked out of concern.  August, embarrassed and pissed at his foolish clumsiness scrambled to pick up his computers and bitching as he did so.  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” he said pissed offedly.  He sat the computers on the table and noted that the Device Item 0110 was Operational.  
	On one of the multiple LCD screens there was a readout in heavy bold black font with the words plainly reading OPERATIONAL  with another word below it  PHASE ONE COMPLETE.
	What the fuck did that mean?
	August scratched his head and noted that there were more diodes and small lights of various colors now illuminated on the board than there had before.  Humph, a simple clunking was all it needed.
	The barking of a dog and Chuck Wineman’s stereo blasting five trailers down returned August’s attention to the fact that his trailer door was open.  He turned to realize that he still hadn’t dealt with the pizza situation.
	The 18 yr. old was standing in the door way, peering in, looking down to where August had tumbled.  She was motionless.  Still.  Lifeless.  August blinked his eyes and stared at her.  James Gappers roared by on his Harley, the girl still didn’t move.
	“Uh, you alright?” August had to ask.  There was no response.  This was spooky.
	He scratched his head then tapped her on the shoulder.  Nada.
	He pulled on her shirt.  Nope.
	He clicked his fingers, whistled, tapped her head, pulled her nose…
	Nothing.  So he stood in front of her, waggling his wienie.
	That didn’t do it, either.  August was flummoxed.
	Leaning against the counter he tried to finger this one out, staring at the floor, back to the girl, going over in his mind--suddenly wondering if he was in a “transition” world again he checked out side--no, there was Sparky hooked up with Ladybird, Darla and Jackie were smoking out behind their parents’ trailer, and James throttled his noisy Harley.  
	August returned to leaning against the counter--this didn’t make sense.
	Not until his eyes fell onto the Device Item 0110.
	“Oh shit!” he exclaimed.
	Paying some attention more astutely now he noted in the larger 8x4 screen a waving line with some other lines.  He didn’t know exactly what they meant but Fate had handed him a new beginning, a new destiny.