Atlantis Chronicles: Prince of The Olympics

“April 28”

“Okay, My- my, what’s the story?” Teresa was standing in the doorway, looking at her watch. “I only have a little while before I have to head back to Seattle for classes tomorrow, but fill me in on

your friend, Guy.”

Michael had been writing notes as he remembered them ever since he returned home Friday. He flipped back to page one in his notebook.

“All right,” he said, “Your instincts were right on. He’s not American. But, before I start, here’s the deal. I’ll tell you everything, but it’s to keep someone else informed. You need to promise not to tell another soul, to put anything into writing, and certainly don’t let on to Mom, or anyone what you know. Okay?”

“Are you serious, Michael?”

“If you can’t make that promise, have a good week at college!”

“Hey! I’ve always kept my promises!”

“Which is why I’ll tell you this one- if you make the promise.”

“All right, already! I promise!” She held her right hand to her heart.

“Good. Let’s start at the beginning.” Michael told, as objectively as he could, the story of the deer, and his bringing Guy home.

“That is just wicked! Who have you told about this?”

“No one. You’re the first.”

“Was there anything else weird?”

Michael told her about ‘teaching’ Guy to read.

“It sounds like he isn’t even human!” replied Teresa.

“Which brings me to the final strange thing about him.” Michael told about the pointed ears, elves, and claiming to be from Atlantis.

“Whoa! That is freaky! Aren’t some of your superheroes from Atlantis?”

“Yeah. Aquadicman is super strong, and can command fish. Don’t know if Guy can command fish. Then there is Nemoore. He is super strong and has little wings on his feet. Guy had no little wings.”

“Have you decided what to do?”

“I figure there are three possibilities. One, he’s telling the truth about all of it; two, he’s telling the truth about some of it; or three, he’s making it all up as he goes. Either way, I need to know more. So, I’m talking to him again. . . in June . . . at his place this time.”

“Do you think he’ll let you in?”

“I don’t know. If he does, I could have enough material for a book.”

“Ahh! So, ‘Guy Mann’ is going to send you to college?”

“Could be.”

X

“Hi, Don! Is the pick up at the auto shop?” Michael asked as Don answered the door.

“Nah! We took it in yesterday. To Evergreen and Aloha for estimates. Both were over fifteen thousand to repair the darn thing! According to them and my insurance, the truck was only worth about

twelve thousand now, which makes it totaled!” Don led Michael into the TV room.

“But it seemed to be running fine, er . . . from the short time I drove it, anyway.”

“It was the damage to the cab. They would need to replace most of the support around the driver’s door and windshield. Everything else I could live with,” Don continued as the boys settled down into the sofas.

A baseball game was on Don’s TV. Don was a big fan, though Michael had little to do with televised sports.

“Well, Don, I’m sorry. I know how much that pick-up has meant to you. What are you going to do now?”

“I’ll take some of the insurance money and buy myself a used truck for the next month anyway.” Don grinned, then continued, “Got my papers yesterday. On June twenty-first, I am to report to boot camp at the Recruit Training Center in Great Lakes, Illinois!”

“Wow! That’s great! You don’t waste any time.”

“No! It’s the Navy! We don’t waste time!”

“Betcha that it’s going to be hard getting through these last few weeks of school.”

“I’m sure it’ll be miserable! Mr. Berg and advanced math will see to that!”

“Oh? How’s your hand? When I called, you said that it was sore from the accident.” Don shook out his right hand, and held it up for Michael to see. The entire palm side was puffy and red, but the back of hand, particularly near the thumb and first two fingers was off color, almost gray.

“It feels a lot better today! But, I tell you, it throbbed something fierce on Friday morning! And, for the life of me, I can’t think of what I hit it on! Do you remember?”

“Hmm! I don’t think . . .” Michael started. In his mind, the image materialized of Don with his hunting knife kneeling over the doe’s neck. Michael turned his head, as a flash of white and deafening thunder. Michael looked back, and Don was laying on the puddled road, Guy stood over him in a fighting stance. No sign of a knife.

“. . . my Mom says accidents are weird like that. The little things cause the most pain.” Michael finished. “Have you had it x-rayed?”

“Well, nothing feels broke. My Mom wanted me to go to the hospital. You know how I feel about that. So, we compromised. I have a doctor’s appointment on Wednesday morning. Maybe by then I can get out of it.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure we can think of something.” Michael offered, though disappointed in himself for not telling his friend more about what happened.

X

“Michael?”

“Yeah?” Michael replied from his bedroom.

“Telephone, Dude!” said Jason, his stepbrother, as he walked in and lobbed Michael the phone, then walked back out.

“Thanks, Jace! . . . Hello?”

“Michael? This is Gene Sartonni. We met yesterday?”

“Hi-ya Gene! Did Guy get back okay?”

“He looked just fine as he started hiking up the hill. Say, the reason I’m calling is because I’m curious. And, if you add that fact with how talkative Guy is, I have no answers. I was hoping you could tell me a few things.”

“I don’t know how helpful I can be. Guy isn’t the type to talk anyone’s ear off.”

“I’ll say. Well, the last time I was around him, I was unconscious. The tree had fallen onto me, knocked me out, and did some major damage. I would have died under that tree had Guy not been there. I guess my question is . . . can Guy actually heal people, or is someone else my guardian angel?”

Michael thought about how much he should say. Gene was a park ranger, the enemy. And he had been a jerk, but . . . when he finally recognized Guy, his attitude really changed. Still, Michael would never have let him drive off alone with Gene, if Guy hadn’t insisted, . . . But, . . . it sure would be tough not knowing who was responsible for helping you out like that.

“Er . . . Yah. I met Guy when my friend and I hit a deer up fishing. I watched as Guy saved the deer.”

“I knew it! You watched, huh?”

“Yep! Bones mending- the whole bit.”

“Wow. So, another question. Why does he spend so much time in the park?”

“I’m not too sure on that one. You’ll have to ask him.” Michael did not want to give out any more of Guy’s secrets.

“Hmm. Okay, how about this one. In order to save me, Guy would have needed to lift, or at least roll over, an eight ton tree. Did you see anything like that?”

“No, I definitely did not. I never saw him do anything athletic.” Michael said even though his mind raced to the image of Guy standing in a fighting stance having hit Don with a flash of lightning. “Guy had been sick.”

“He can’t heal himself?”

“I don’t know. I guess there’s still no cure for the common cold.”

“Right. . . So when did you meet Guy again?”

“It was last Friday.”

“Now, what is your friend’s name? I’d like to talk with him.”

“Actually, he was unconscious the entire time too. He won’t know what you’re even talking about.”

“I see.” Gene sounded disappointed. “Well, I see why he had so many good things to say about you! Guy’s secrets are completely safe, but, maybe not safe for long. Do you have access to the internet?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve got a couple of web sites for you to visit. Check out the Seattle channel eight news site, and look up “Mountain Miracle” on the network magazine link. They’re planning a piece on Guy.”

“You’re kidding!”

“I wish I were. Most of their info is from a blog, ‘Rick Delby’s Miracles in the Olympics’.” Check that one out too.”

“Thanks, Gene! I wish I could be more help.” Michael scribbled the websites into his notebook.

“The more I think about it Michael, you did fine.” After a pause, he continued, “I’m . . . I’m expecting quite a few more hikers and cameras up here once that show airs. I tried to warn him, but I don’t think he has any idea of what news like this could mean to some people. If you‘re meeting with him again, be sure to tell him please. Okay? And thanks! Bye.”

Michael wondered if Gene wasn’t worrying too much.