It’s just a little vision quest, she said. Pagans and heathens do it all the time, she said. Easy for her to say, she wasn’t the one going through it. Chester wondered if Adam ever wanted to go Irish husband on Eve as much as he did on Nicole sometimes. He thought about that as he fell.
It wasn’t all that bad really. Chester always wanted to try skydiving. This was like that, but without a parachute so it was a bit like flying. Except, then he remembered he didn’t have wings. So he had that weightless free-fall thing going on and it felt great. He even managed a smile, and to forget how annoyed he was with Nicole, for a minute. Then he remembered that he would regain his weight once the ground involved him in a hit and run accident.
No, he wasn’t flying but there seemed to be a hand guiding him anyway. It wasn’t him, and that loss of control was even worse. He zipped past mountains, cities, and rivers. The air stank of smoke that stung his eyes but through it he could see women in all of the locations he passed. Beautiful warrior women going about their daily tasks. As he came closer to the ground he noticed them noticing him. Each woman looked up with pity in her eyes and a sad smile upon her lips. Where was that coming from, and where were the men?
Chester noticed a yawning chasm in earth even more blackened than the air. Ember red glowed from deep inside what was obviously the sight of a massive explosion or a gaping hole to hell. The hand of fate, or whatever primitive god guided him directed his descent to that cataclysmic portent. Chester held his breath and closed his eyes, as if denial could undo his fate.
He careened down the shaft and found the men in the fortress of dirt at the bottom. They chanted, they chanted his name as they clanged together weapons of war both primitive and modern. Sweat, dirt, and blood soaked these scarred and tattooed men. Chester noted they were half naked and covered in enough leather that should his life actually one day become a holy book hipsters everywhere would take to their blogs to proclaim the obvious homo-erotic subtext had leapt from classics to religion.
Then his flight slowed, his body righted itself. He dropped the last few feet into a golden throne. He looked around and smiled. This is where he should lead the men? This wasn’t so bad after all. He closed his eyes.
He opened them and his hand at the same time to stare at the two remaining peyote buttons in his palm. In the background he heard Nicole. She was on the phone, telling her father how Chester had his vision. It was the second sign, and surely meant she was pregnant with a son. Could the end come soon enough?
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