Act Four

Continuing on the westbound lanes, Barry headed east against traffic which slowed as ambulances and fire engines arrived, noisily sounding their life saving abilities. Traffic was completely stopped on the east bounds which were on the opposite side of Barry. His body recovered from the succession of blasts. Soon traffic slowed to a halt on his side but there were few cars to speak of. The Earth teen wasn't concerned he would be seen because on the opposite side of the bridge, the landscape altered. Long blades of grass, neglected for some time, provided perfect cover. He moved through it and except for a few close together stalks, they hardly hampered his trek. The darkness grew thicker around him and he felt his steps weigh heavily on the rest of his body. He felt weak again and didn't think he could recover this time.

That same feeling of depression pushed its way toward his consciousness. It was his greatest enemy. A non-physical, yet mental foe. Barry plodded on, his body almost a puppet on strings guided by another, more spiritual mental force--one which was aiding him. He had hope. He also had hunger. But what was there to eat here? He cut some blades of grass and ate a few, sickened. To the south, as he propelled himself onward once more, the boy noted yet another highway. He found the island of grass he was on, becoming slimmer and slimmer--more narrow. It didn't matter to him. Soon it would veer again and widen into the forests while that new highway he saw would turn or drop to some other part of this land.

Darkness--caution left Barry who deemed himself lucky not to have run into any live animals or insects. Back by the overpass, there were some spiders under the bridge, close to the outside, but the crash took care of them. Barry merely moved on. Nothing would stand in his way. He would rejoin his friends back home--home was Spindrift.

Then he spotted movement. It, whatever it was, stomped across many blades of grass. A great gray darkness swarming over the grass, matting them down. Was this a swarm of bees? Ants? The screen before him blotted out the land ahead. It became clear to the human boy, who squinted. He saw a giant drapery not unlike a curtain which used to cover the stage of a play or the screen of an old fashioned movie theater. This curtain moved, seemingly floating as the wind rippled across it. Barry looked at it, for it was very close to him now, and he understood what it was, finally. A gray dress belonging to something even larger than the curtain. Above it was a bust with arms, a neck, and a face. Oh, that face!

Barry met its gaze fully. The wrinkled inlets of the eyes frightened him the most as he saw they were looking him over. Hideously disgusting the mouth seemed contorted, the cheeks sunken, and also bumpy. Potholes lined the face. The giant held a bag--a shopping bag which seemed to lower itself into the grass. Here it comes, Barry braced himself--she--it was a giantess of the species--she will put me in that bag and cash me in for money. Stringy, gray hair hung from under a hooded shawl. This was a bag lady. Her very nature, totally unknown, made Barry fear her. Yet, she, as the rat before her, was somehow a kindred spirit--a being trying to survive in a world where the odds were stacked against her--just like himself and the others from his group. Angry at first, it subsided as he waited for the inevitable imprisonment. The woman reached into her bag, probably to make room for her new item--him. In the darkness and with her height, it was hard for him to see precisely what she was doing. A hand loomed down at him, growing in size optically from his point of view.

The bag lady placed a gigantic apple down next to him. It, surprisingly enough, looked fresh and good to eat. Barry had his knife and used it to cut sections. The woman smiled, a face of horror broken by this simple movement. Barry ate, waving at her in a token of appreciation. There was one giant tonight who empathized with his plight. She continued on, her dress sweeping past him, afloat. He waved to her, she let him eat, happy to have fed someone. She wished others would take time to be as kind to her. Barry felt renewed by this one act of kindness--a gesture of humanity.

On it went. His walk. His return. A zombie by now, Barry seemed to cease feeling. Not that this was a negative thing. He would have felt sore all over his body especially his feet and legs. His stomach cramped up and ached. He would have felt as if someone were stabbing him. He also would have felt a throbbing in his head as if his brain were beating against both sides of his skull as it filled with blood. This he would have felt as he forced himself onward, never stopping. His back would ache and his shoulders become as brittle as his neck was stiff. He felt none of it. Pain is an alert to help people safeguard their bodies--a safety valve to shut off the cause of pain. Without it we would keep on doing to our body the very thing that is damaging it.

Barry kept on walking toward home. He saw Fitzhugh's face, kind and yet worried. Compassionate. He saw Betty, protectively opening her arms to him. Valerie smiled at him, sending warmth throughout his body. He thought he saw his dog licking his face. Then Dan racing to him to help him up. Of course Captain Burton was there, too. Steve had his back to Barry, one arm jutting out to protectively block the fifteen year old from some danger--and to stop him from going on. Steve was looking away from Barry, up at some menace. The indication was he should stop. Then the boy saw Mark swooping down out of the sky. Was Mark in the spaceship Spindrift? Too quick, Barry stretched his neck to look further upward. The giant land spiraled, turned, made a full one sixty degree pin-wheel. Barry felt as though he were up side down. The night hazed out into a sizzling whiteness. Barry, after hours and hours of walking, tumbled to the ground and passed out.

Act Five

It was nearly time to fly back. Mark needed to refuel anyhow. He had spent the better part of a day resting and rechecking this new device, then scouting about for Barry, now missing a second day. He had to stop a few times to rest. He had flown over the red cone area, flying west, just as Barry was pulling himself out of the cone. He flew almost to the skyscraper filled city no this, his second night of searching. He had just missed Barry.

Mark was flying on a makeshift jump belt, also known as parajets. He had pieced it together from Spindrift spare parts. Flying was easy enough but unlike Earth he had to be careful to avoid extra tall structures: trees, telephone poles, bridges, trains, trucks, etc. There were also giant birds but not many came out at night. Bats were easy enough to avoid but he did spy a few. Mark also searched for part of the day but it was very dangerous. He could be spotted easily. It was easier for him to see though. He used infra-red binoculars and very occasionally a spotlight. It could give him away to giants.

Flying back toward the Spindrift area along the highway, Mark saw an accident clean up crew and hoped Barry was not nearby. He couldn't find any remains of a yellow roadster. He swooped under the bridge just to make sure Barry was not there. He flew out from under, feeling as if he were looking for a needle in a haystack--but that would be easier. Mark wore a helmet Steve and Dan had aboard for outdated service checks. The entire search was futile. He surmised they would just have to face the fact that Barry was gone and they'd never see him again. Mark swallowed hard. Wherever Barry was, he hoped the lad would survive, was surviving even at the moment of his thought. He didn't like himself for thinking these things but it beat total despair. Not paying attention, Mark flew too low. He barely avoided a giant. He rose higher up into the sky. Then he eyed the giant. The bag lady was pointing behind her, acknowledging Mark's presence. She was leading him to something. A trap? Or maybe she had seen Barry. Mark gave it full throttle, snapping on his helmet's searchlight beam. He searched the grasses all the way to the next overpass. It was almost morning again. The highways veered off and here, the forest where Spindrift was encamped, began. Mark flew under the next overpass. He descended toward the crumpled body of Barry Lockridge.

Epilogue

To Mark Wilson, it would have made a pathetic scene: he, carrying a frail boy who was passed out in his arms, flying across the blue morning sky as people left for work in cars below. He managed to sling Barry over his arm and shoulder without obstructing the workings of his device. The boy was no more a light eleven year old, for he was no boy. Still, Mark managed. He prayed that no giant below would happen to look up and see them. Most were drivers and passengers in cars. Groggy, Mark finally decided to fly over the jungles. He chastised himself for not doing so earlier. No one saw his move. Above the trees, the forest looked like less of a jungle and more beautiful than Mark ever dreamt it could. He knew Barry was alive but he was awfully still. Had his condition worsened since they took off? Mark pressed toward his goal--Spindrift--much as Barry had before him.

Grogginess pulled away as did the curtains of fog from Barry's vision. His friends saw his eyes open, then blink several times. Over him stood a concerned group. The ceiling above them told him he was in the sling bed in the passenger compartment. Mr. Fitzhugh was there, fingering his own hands worriedly. Betty was opposite Fitzhugh, gently calling Barry's name until he came around. At the left of Barry stood Betty and next to her, Dan, a pair of pilot wings between his fingers. Dan saw Barry smile. The teen heard him say, "He saw them."

"I haven't earned them yet," Barry said.

"No, but you will soon, after..." Dan's words stuck in his throat.

Next to Fitzhugh stood Valerie, her hand on his shoulder and another on Barry's. Barry focused but did not have to, he knew she would be smiling at his return. "You're very brave."

Mark was very close to Val, holding a helmet. At the foot of his bed stood Steve, more toward Dan and Betty's side than the others. He had his hand on Barry's knee. "Don't move. Don't move. How do you feel?"

"I...I'm all right," Barry made a quick assessment. At least he felt something. "I'm just very tired."

"What doesn't kill us, only makes us stronger," Val encouraged.

"Nothing's broken, you're not bleeding," Fitzhugh began.

"Fitzhugh," Dan spurted for him to stop the report. He pointed a finger at Barry's face, "Now listen to me, Barry. You missed our lesson. As soon as you're rested, I expect two in a row from you."

Barry smiled through paleness, "Right." His dream returned to him--was it an illusion? "Who...who came and..."

Steve moved to Mark and slapped his hand on Mark's shoulder, "Mark did, Barry."

"Thanks," Barry said gratefully, "Thanks a lot." Every word had carried a truthfulness and deep feel to them.

"My pleasure," Mark smiled, "Only try not to eat too much or next time you can fly me back."

Barry laughed. The others did too. Steve grabbed Mark and Val by the arm, nodding to Dan and Betty, "Let's give him some time to sleep. Fitzhugh."

"One moment," Betty said and ran to the back rooms. She came out soon with seven gifts for Barry, laying them on one of the red lined chairs. "Happy birthday from all of us." Hastily, she opened one gift box (an old hat box of Val's) and pulled out a pilot uniform. It was blue and not unlike Steve and Dan's older outfits. "This...you have earned."

"She made it herself," Valerie submitted.

"It's great," Barry said, touching it as Betty held it over him. "Chipper can have my old clothes to chew on."

Everyone laughed again.

"Welcome home," Steve moved closer to Barry's head. After a moment they all moved away, Fitzhugh remaining for a few minutes after. Then he too, left Barry to sleep. Only Barry didn't sleep. He cried tears of happiness.

LAND OF THE GIANTS

The Long Way Home