NACHWORT - LET GO, LUKE
Dale carried the suitcases to the hangar, where Foxglove, the other Rangers, and his parents, were preparing the Ranger Wing. He gave the suitcases to Chip, who hoisted them up on the plane. “Now just relax, and enjoy your time off,” he said, smiling, and jumping off the aircraft.
“Oh, we will,” cooed the Bat Lady, with her ears perked up, and she was batting her eyelashes at her mate. She was in the co-pilot’s seat, having just finished checking all the controls.
“Sure!” added Dale, with a *lot* of eagerness in his voice, and his eyes, ears, and tail showed just what he was eager for. “We have three weeks to catch up on!” Pierre chuckled as he patted his son’s shoulders,
“Well, son, I’m relieved that you finally conquered your fears. We all know that there’s no such thing as a perfect parent, but I can confidently say that we’ve taught you well.” Dale held his father’s paw, lowered his ears a trifle, and replied,
“I know, Dad. And again, I’m—I’m sorry I made you and everyone else worry so much.” Dalee padded in front of him and replied,
“That’s just something that comes automatically from being your friends and parents, Dale, even though there’s only so much we can help you with. We worry because we love you. You just have to trust us a little bit more to talk about problems as deep as this one.” He looked at his mother.
“I will, Mom.” And he hugged her. After a moment, he turned to Monterey. “Monty? I’m—really sorry I got you all worried for nothin’. I didn’t mean for you to feel bad when I made myself sick when it had nothin’ to do with the acorns you cooked, and you don’t know how awful I feel now especially after what I did to the dinner you maaaaaaa—!!!!” A bear hug choked the chipmunk’s apology.
“I’m jus’ glad yore okay, lad,” said Monterey. “And I’m glad ye straight’n’d up before somethin’ worse ‘appened. No ‘ard feelin’s, Dale. Ye jus’ go ‘n take care o’ yore wife, okay?” The mouse released Dale, and he gasped for air,
“Thanks—Monty—and—[gasp!]—thanks again for the dinner!!” Then he turned to the others. “Guys, I’m sorry about the Jacuzzi. Whatever it takes to make up for the repairs and reinstallation—” Gadget turned him around and held his paws,
“Dale, your marriage is more important than a Jacuzzi. If you’re truly sorry and have explained everything, then that’s good enough for us. When you two come back, just do your best duties as a Ranger, okay?” Both sets of ears perked up again.
“Okay, Gadget. Thanks. But are you sure you guys will be all right?”
“Yes, we will, Dale. We have the hotel’s number in case a super emergency comes along. In the meantime, just forget the world and have a great time.” Dale looked into her beautiful blue eyes, and with great tenderness, replied,
“We will, Gadget. Thanks for the Jacuzzi and everythin’.” He gave her a quick hug, after which he climbed on the Wing, and the mousemaid went to open the hangar door. The door slowly gave way to the autumn sunrise, which filled the hangar with a beautiful red-orange light. A new day was beginning, and a new stage in the Oakmont’s relationship was also beginning. However, before Dale turned on the motors, a visitor landed at the entrance.
“Otis!” exclaimed Foxglove, nearly standing. “What brings you here?” The male bat padded inside as he choked down a yawn for a moment, and replied,
“*Ummmmm*, well, I had an important message to relay to you from the Ultrasound Network late last night. I wanted all of you to hear it so I came last night hoping to find you awake, Mrs. Oakmont. I didn’t hear you anywhere, so I figured you were asleep.” The couple looked/echosounded at each other momentarily, and also blushed momentarily. Either they didn’t make as much noise as they thought they did, or Otis was being discreet. “I decided to catch some shut-eye myself for a little bit and give you the message in the morning. The sound of the door woke me up.” Chip and the others padded up to him,
“What message? Is it about that owl lady?” he asked, with dread coming over him.
“Yes.” A worrisome look came on all of the Rangers, and Dale’s parents.
“Oh, no, don’t tell me there was another victim!” pleaded Zipper. Otis waved his wings to calm them down,
“Oh, it’s nothing like that. It seems that the warning you sent to East Staten Island paid off. The animals that were keeping tabs on the owl lady informed the USN that every night, East Staten Island Park was like a ghost town. Not one lizard or even an insect was around. The owl lady extended her hunting area and schedule, but the lookouts and hear-outs were one flap ahead of her. Since there was no prey around, it sound—um—seems that the owl lady just picked up and left the park. Last night, she didn’t fly her normal reconnaissance flight. She just took off and left the park for good—” At this point, all the Rangers cheered, and the couples hugged each other, while Monterey gave everyone nearby a bonsai-bear hug. After everyone calmed down, Otis continued, “She was last heard—um—seen heading east toward Pennsylvania. The relays will continue to track her position until she nests in either the forest or another town. Either way, now having entered into other owls’ territories she’ll most likely have *three* Councils hearing—um—watching her every move. If she values her life, she’ll hear—um—watch her flaps from now on.” When they heard that, Gadget hugged Chip, looked into his handsome dark brown eyes—
And kissed him.
Taking that as their cue, Foxglove kissed Dale. Tails were quivering again.
After a while, the mousemaid pulled away a trifle, and said, “Chip, you rescued her. You rescued that owl lady from herself.”
“We *all* did,” he corrected, looking at her, then at all his other friends. “Us, the RAS, the USN, and everyone who listened to the warning. And not one life was needlessly lost.” At this, Dale lowered his ears and looked down for a moment.
“What is it, Cutie?” asked his wife, placing one wing on his shoulder. The chipmunk looked up, took a deep breath, and said,
“Well, we really don’t know that. That owl lady may be out of our fur for now, but, have we *really* rescued her from herself? Does she *really* value her life? And do you think the Strigiform Councils will be as merciful as us, knowing all she has done to them? And she’s already beyond the point of no return—”
“Dale,” Chip said, lowering his own ears, padding up to the Ranger Wing and looking up at him, “At any moment that the owl lady is in the forest, she is at the mercy of predators herself. She has enough to worry about for herself than to continue in her twisted ways. If she’s past the point of no return, that is by her choice. Whatever happens to her now, it’s because she has sealed her own fate. But *you* did all you could, and you weren’t pushed into making the Final Decision. You defeated her, Dale. *We* defeated her, without firing a shot. And whatever happens to her, we have our paws—and wings, clean,” he added, looking at Foxglove and Zipper.
Silence.
After a moment, the bat said, “Well, I guess I’ll tell the USN to lift the curfew from East Staten Island—”
“Wait,” said Dale. Everyone looked/echosounded at him.
“What is it, son?” asked Pierre.
“If the park is safe now, Chip, do you think we can go there and see if my theory is right?” Everyone looked/echosounded at Chip.
Theory?
All the trees and bushes were bare, and the grass was mostly brown. Though East Staten Island Park seemed to be dead, it was only sleeping. In a few days, mammals, birds, reptiles, amphibians, and insects would come back and give it a little burst of life before Old Man Winter settled in. And it was because the park was practically deserted, except for a human or two, that two small aircraft and two bats seemed rather conspicuous. The humans didn’t notice, however.
And the moment they entered the park, something overcame the Rescue Rangers, Otis, Pierre, and Dalee.
A distinct feeling of *déjà-vue*.
Like a dream they had, but forgot, and now the sights, sounds, and scents triggered memories, except that no one had dreamed anything before. But they all *knew*.
And it was so intense that Foxglove’s Fall Fever was momentarily suspended, aided by the fact that it was dealt with *quite* thoroughly the previous night. Ears and tails lowered and stiffened again. Dale, piloting the Ranger Wing, for some reason landed on a particular spot on the cement path. Behind them, Gadget landed the Ranger Plane. And even she, despite having no information, *knew* that this was *the* spot in which to land. As they all stepped off the aircraft, a cold breeze blew above them.
Shudder.
Dale padded up to one spot on the cement, near the edge where it gave way to the natural earth. He looked up, not to the sky, but to a point above him, right above the spot on the cement.
Chip could stand it no longer. He padded up to his best friend, and said, “Something *did* happen here. Something *horrible*.”
“And it involved *all* of us,” added the mousemaid. Otis couldn’t understand what he was feeling,
“Even—even *me*—but—but *how*? I’ve never been here before! None of us have!” Foxglove said nothing. Instead, she covered her ears with her wings and shook her head. She heard the breeze, but for some reason, ghostly echoes of thunder, rain, animal screams (in normal range and ultrasound), and the ever ghostly hooting of an insane owl lady were echoing in her head.
And it had *nothing* to do with Halloween.
“Somethin’—somethin’ was *supposed* t’ ‘appen ‘ere,” stated Monterey, sombrely.
“And it wasn’t just us,” added Zipper, just as sombrely. “But others. Others were also here. There were others involved.” Even Pierre and Dalee felt it.
“Dale, I don’t know what’s going on, and I doubt the others do, either,” whispered Pierre. “But it’s as if we *all* were here before, right after some sort of—of—disaster—”
“Or attack,” said Dalee. The Comedian just stood there, trying to figure out what had happened, and when.
But he couldn’t.
And he would never know.
No one would.
Not even the owl lady.
Finally, he turned and said, “Guys, I know this is really weird, but like I explained before, I think that sometime ago there must have been a tangent or rift in our timeline which stopped whatever was supposed to happen here.” His wife continued,
“And whatever it was, maybe it was so intense, that the other timeline is somehow—well—*spilling* feelings over on this one, even after it already happened, or *should* have happened?” Gadget normally would have found the entire concept of multiple timelines fascinating, but right now, she was feeling everything but. She continued,
“Or, like Dale said, *this* is the alternate timeline, and we’re getting the backwash of whatever happened in the *main* timeline? But what could have happened here that was so intense and it involved not just us, but other animals as well?”
“Someone died.” Everyone looked/echosounded at the Comedian, as he stepped off the cement and padded under a bush to retrieve something. “I know that owl lady has killed many in this park, but whatever happened had somethin’ to do with someone gettin’ killed——someone important——got killed in an awful way.” He padded out of the bush, holding an owl feather. The Detective looked at him.
“The owl lady? That owl lady was supposed to die here?” Dale examined the feather after he stepped back on the cement.
“Maybe. Or maybe it was someone else. Someone very close to us—Chip, did you ever find out what that owl lady’s name was?”
“Um, yes. I have it written down back at Headquarters. I think her name was Ira or Ima or Ilsa, but the RAS affirms that she changed it, out of her own whim, to—Strigiform, I think—no, Strigidæ, I believe. It wasn’t an official name change; she just decided to call herself that because she thought she was the ultimate specimen of the Strigidæ Family, in blatant defiance, and mockery, to the Strigiform Councils. That’s like you, me, or Tammy changing our name to ‘Sciuridæ’.” The Comedian looked up and thought for a moment.
“Nope, those names don’t ring a bell. I thought that by knowin’ her name I would know more of what was supposed to happen here—of who was supposed to die.”
“But no one died,” countered the Inventor. “Because whatever happened on the other timeline never happened here; the person that was ‘supposed’ to die *didn’t* die. That person was—was--*rescued*! Isn’t that a good thing? Isn’t that what the Rescue Rangers are all about?” The Comedian turned toward the Inventor, and looked at her for a moment. For some reason, shadows of what could have been flashed in Gadget’s head, but too quickly to coalesce into a clear memory, too quickly even for her brilliant mind.
“Yes, Gadget,” he replied. “You’re right. Whatever was supposed to happen—*didn’t* happen. A life was rescued. And that should be the end of it.” Then, Dale put the feather on the cement, and without knowing why, he placed a pebble on it. There was no reason to do so, but it seemed like the right thing to do. Without thinking, the others piled up pebbles on top of it as well. Then they all stood back to look/echosound at the small monument they made. Whoever was supposed to die here in the other timeline, he, she, or it, would rest in peace—
“Guys, look!” Everyone was startled at Foxglove’s outburst that they nearly jumped. They turned to look/echosound what she was pointing at.
Near the centre of the park, there was a foxglove vine.
Padding over to it, the Acoustics Engineer was once again hit with ghosts of memories, or even, memories of ghosts. Or, more than memories, just scrambled images of what might have been, or of what *really* had been.
“I remember falling off my mother into a foxglove vine. Do you think it could be this one?” The Detective answered,
“It’s not very likely, Foxy. Who knows how many foxglove vines there are—or were back then—not just in New York, but all of New England. And we don’t know when this one was planted.” The bat lady thought about that. There were too many strange feelings happening here, but without one shred of solid proof, she would have to stow the theory that the owl lady that was here may been the one that knocked her off her mother, killed her parents, and nearly killed *her*. Then again, it could have happened here, or elsewhere, and not just with an owl lady, but with a hawk, or even an eagle. No matter. In the spring, if she was pregnant or not, she would begin a specific search for her past.
But not now.
Not when she had more important things to do.
The Adventurer spoke for her, “Well, lads, all I can say is that whate’r was supposed t’ ‘appen, didn’t ‘appen. This park is now safe thanks t’ the work we all did. We should leave this place behind, ‘n let whatever was supposed t’ ‘appen jus’ stay ‘n the past as well.”
“Monty’s right,” said Chip. “We can’t change the past, and much less the past of another timeline. This park may and *could* have been the scenario of a disaster, but it was prevented, somehow. Let’s stop searching for ghosts of the past and look to—” He paused for a moment when he raised his ears and looked at the eyes of the most beautiful mousemaid on the planet—
“The future.”
“The future,” repeated Foxglove, GAZING into her husband’s eyes, also raising her ears.
“The future,” he replied, gazing back at her and raising his own ears, tenderly taking her wing and kissing her thumbclaw, and she returned the favour.
“So what are we waiting for?” asked Pierre, raising his ears as well. “Son, those reservations aren’t going to hold forever! You get your lady out of here and into that hotel!” Dalee added,
“And Foxy, don’t you dare let him out of the suite until you’re all nice and caught up!” The younger couple blushed for a moment, especially the pipistrell, since it appeared that her Fall Fever had hit her full force again. They replied,
“Uhhh—yes, Mommy. Yes, Daddy.” The couple scampered back to the planes, but waited until everyone else was ready to go. As they padded back, Gadget pulled Chip aside a trifle and told him,
“Chip, this is—a very frustrating moment for me. I’m—I’m about to leave a place that has so many unanswered questions—questions about timelines—and the worst part of it is that no one can even begin to find out what the answers are! It’s bad enough not knowing an answer to a question that is thrown to you, but it’s even worse when you know that no matter how much logic or reasoning or calculating you do—the answer will never come to you—!” The chipmunk placed one digit on her sweet lips, silencing her.
“There are many cases and mysteries which made me feel the same way, Gadget. We can’t know *everything*; we can’t *always* get all the facts and all the answers. Even in mathematics and logic there are paradoxes and equations without solutions, and *you* *know* that, like dividing by zero, and negative square roots. In those cases, it’s best to just let it go and move on. Maybe someday there will be an answer, perhaps after we’re gone, or maybe there won’t. But don’t let it eat you, Gadget. Just do as Monty says. Something was supposed to happen here, but it didn’t, because we stopped it. We saved many lives because of it. Now, please do us a favour, and don’t look back. Look to the future.” The mousemaid’s lowered her ears and her lower lip trembled a trifle.
“Paradoxes and equations without solutions are very hard for me to deal with, Chip, you know that. You have no idea what I went through when I first encountered division by zero, and negative square roots kept me up for over a week!” Both were the last to climb on the Ranger Plane. The tamias asked,
“But you learned what you were supposed to do with them, right?” The mus nodded. “You learned to simply let them be, and move on. Do you think you can do the same with this place? Put it aside as something that’s definitely in our heads, but not an actual reality: something that simply doesn’t have a solution?” The female murid looked at the sky with great frustration. She even shivered a trifle, knowing that it would mean a definite defeat to her intellect. Her sciurid friend tenderly put his paw on her shoulder, and said, “Think of it as a safety precaution. You’ve seen some of Dale’s movies, and you know all the disasters that happen whenever time travel is involved. Put this behind you and you’ll prevent more disasters from happening that most probably *will* happen if you decide to continue investigating. Just let it go, please.” The Inventor sighed, turned to him, and out of the love she had for him, replied,
“I—I will—but *only* because *you’re* asking me to. And maybe you’re right, maybe none of this is worth the trouble to think about. I don’t want to stay up all night again trying to figure it out like I did with negative square roots. But, what lies ahead of us, then?” The Detective thought for a moment, and whispered tenderly,
“Well, Dale and Foxy will catch up on what they’ve lost, and we’ll go on a date tonight—far away from this place. What do you say?” Gadget smiled at him as she activated the motors.
“It’s a start, Chip. I love you.”
“And I love you more than you could ever imagine, Gadget Hackwrench.” Chip gently turned her head and kissed her softly on the lips, and GAZED into her eyes once more.
Both aircraft and Otis took off and left East Staten Island Park, heading toward the rising sun. After a short while, one aircraft turned right, toward marital bliss, the other turned left, toward a growing relationship, and the bat turned downward, toward a bat roost to rest for the day.
Fly, fly, fly, fly away; to restore that which was lost; toward a renewed relationship; toward a new understanding; toward a future that no matter how scary, it would be faced together, and no matter what obstacle, challenge, or danger it may bring, it would not be faced alone; toward the bringing of new life, and to its nurturing, to its loving, to its forming and raising and correcting when needed, with whatever help they might need to do so, fly, fly, fly away…
“Dale, did you get his name this time?”
“Oh, shoot!”
Wings flapped…
THE END / DAS ENDE / DIE EINDE / EINDE / EL FIN / O FIN / LE FIN / IL FINE / SFIRSIT / KONIEC / KONEC / BEIGAS / LOPPU / TELOS / SOF / TAMAT / LIAU LIAU / DANEH O’ / WAN-LE / OWARIMASU / SLUTT / SLUT / UXUL