Fiction By Paul Heidelberg
(c) Copyright Paul Heidelberg
All Rights Reserved
...like giants plunged into the years, they touch epochs that are immensely far apart, separated by the slow accretion of many, many days -- in the dimension of Time.
From the last sentence of the last volume of REMEMBRANCE OF THINGS PAST also known as IN SEARCH OF LOST TIME by Marcel Proust.
Zawoosh
Back to the Ancient Lands, to the Ancient Settlements of the Ancient Peoples.
South of Abo and Quarai is the third, and largest, of the Ancient Cities of the Ancient Peoples, Gran Quivira.
The three settlements are known as the Salinas Pueblos for the salt lakes that remain today -- the salt from the lakes was an important part of the Ancient Peoples' existence, and commerce.
The San Francisco Poet and the New Mexico Poet have hiked to a hill and are looking across the expanse of ancient buildings, and open spaces beyond, when they see a 1950 Ford approaching in the distance.
A few minutes later, a young man wearing thick black glasses approaches them; he is carrying a guitar in a beat-up black guitar case.
When the stranger is about twenty yards away, the San Francisco Poet turns to the New Mexico Poet and says, "Do you know who that looks like?"
"I'm afraid I do. Things are getting weirder all the time, aren't they."
The stranger walks up to them and shakes their hands and smiles and says, "Let's squat down here, I have something to play for you."
The man with the black glasses sings a complete version of "Peggy Sue."
Afterwards, the New Mexico Poet asks, "Are you who we think you are?"
"If you think I'm Buddy from Lubbock, I'm who you think I am."
The three have just begin to discuss the beauty of the Ancient Lands of Ancient Peoples when they see dust flying on the road Buddy had taken, and they begin to make out a Psychedelically- painted Rolls-Royce.
"Doesn't that look like the automobile of a certain member of the Beatles?" the San Francisco Poet asks the New Mexico Poet.
"It certainly does," he answers.
"The Beatles," Buddy says. "That sounds like the Crickets."
"That's where John Lennon said he got the idea for the name of his band," the San Francisco Poet says.
As John approaches the group -- he too is carrying a guitar in a guitar case -- he screams, "Bloody 'ell. This man looks just like Buddy Holly, my teenage idol when I was back in Liverpool."
"That's exactly who he is," the two poets say in unison.
"Bloody 'ell," is all John can say, again.
Before long, the four are sitting on the Ancient Stones at the Ancient Site with their legs crossed in the Way of the Buddha, in the Way of Yoga.
John says, "I'm on a trip all by meself. I'm all alone, going from New York to California. I don't have a 'Whoa-man' with me."
"Yeah, women can make you go 'Whoa' all right," the San Francisco Poet says.
They all laugh and then Buddy says, "Well, I only had one who made me go "Whoa," and that was Maria Elena. The first time I saw her, I knew I had to marry her."
"Well, I had more than one," John says, "but me best one by far was me last."
Without another word, Buddy and John break into "That'll Be The Day." The two poets sit in the fashion of the Buddha, amazed.
Buddy and John are lost in song.
When they finish, neither of the poets speak, and Buddy is silent; he is just smiling his big smile.
John is crying -- his face is covered in tears.
Soon they are all crying, as they sit on the rocks of the Ancient Peoples, sitting in the Way of the Buddha.
"These tears are for all our loved ones who are no longer with us," the San Francisco Poet says.
"Yes," the New Mexico Poet answers.
"All our loved ones," John says.
"All our loved ones," Buddy repeats.
To Be Continued...
Photograph: "Ancient Pueblos Settlement of Gran Quivira"
(c) Copyright Paul Heidelberg
(c) Copyright Paul Heidelberg
All Rights Reserved
