On The Plateau

Fear of the unknown - All actions have consequences

On The Plateau

Upon the high place, an extended ledge overseeing the world below, stood the newlyweds arm in arm with glowing smiles to open up the day, already in progress with the aid of a golden happy sun. They had just finished with corporate services and Sunday worship along with all the Plateaus congregants at the town’s holy factory to the satisfaction and approval of the authorities.

Now the couple were free to do as they pleased within the boundaries of social parameters set down at the dawn of time for their convenience.

They made the best of their allotted time by meandering aimlessly about on the top world, perimeters short in distance but pleasant none the less.

On their way home they stumbled upon a stranger by chance. His feet dangling off the steep ledge at the southern most quadrant of the high plateau; face down, stationary, looking more like a rock than not and more likely dead than alive from what they could surmise.

There were no noticeable moving parts about his person so it was easy to assume the worst and no discernible injuries or breathing for that matter so they went to work to find out what this was all about.

His feet seemed to be dancing in cadence with the wind swaying in tempo to the updraft swells. To and fro they would go in mesmerizing fashion, with a life all their own, movement generated by invisible forces of nature yet to be codified or approved by the authorities. Science would certainly be involved at some point or another in the matter. Some free thinking people in the community would see to that.

Wind sublimation is only a theory. Fog or mist being influenced by cold ocean waters to hold down thick clumps of gray and white clouds being compressed by hot dry air, condensing them below the surface of their flat region still remains a mystery. The mystery being alive and well on a nearly perfect day where they were about to perform their investigation.

A dazzling sun above them, a blanket of clouds below, covering the unknown world down there, always just out of reach; in fact it is out of the reach of science with the existing technologies available to them, which are primitive at best. So this is a perfect opportunity for a husband and wife to explore the site. There is no better place they would rather be than on the edge of reality between two worlds; no better place indeed to discover what it all means.

Why the myth? We see it every day with our eyes. Are we to deny what we see with our eyes? When the fog never rises high enough to reach the heights of the flat world top, what could be the cause?

What they did experience with the ensuing influence therein of said observations were fluctuations in the ephemeral empty spaces between solids, coupled with intervals of pauses formed from the essence of magic, of life itself, created in the invisible firmament called air, caused by life itself, which leaves the spectators speechless, nearly voiceless in the void of time. The tide of time was already receding behind them, receding in the speed of light, left at the closing doors of Sunday services, forgotten just as quickly as a fleeting memory of the events in passing, forgotten by the newlyweds at the evolution of the fresh conditions in front of them and the matter at hand; the man with the dangling feet.

The feet swayed there in the intervening succession of the breeze; feet which were limp as a biscuit of their own volition or accord, hanging off the southern top ledge of the plateau as if that were a natural thing to see and a natural thing for feet to do.

The couple came from the only isolated town in the upper world. Upon discovery of the non moving body there, they immediately assumed he must have been born there then died for some unknown reason. They gazed down in amazement as neither one of them had ever seen such a thing. They began shaking the motionless body just to be sure they were right.

The young woman was dressed in a bright golden gown. It flowed like honey syrup around her in the air born folds which flowed down to touch her bright red shoes. She wore a yellow frilly bonnet which seemed to levitate and bounce upon her curly blonde hair in the breeze. It was tied at the chin so as not to fly away in the sinfully delightful wind.

Was the alien really dead? Could they revive him? Could he be brought back to life with their sweet and gentile ways?

Their tactics would certainly be brutal to the point of torture, not to mention their sparkling, abundantly charming dispositions would come to save the day.

If all of this seems incongruous do not worry. Everything will balance out in the end like whatever they might do.

Several paragraphs later in an imaginary book that could have been written to explain this bizarre situation, a good author could easily embellish what actually took place on the plateau edge but truth is stranger than fiction and reality is real and not for the faint of heart.

The couple spewed out their own litany of verbal abuse, venomous words, which spilled out into nature with a fury, a raw power, an obscene deliciousness of free will in all directions, everywhere the wind would take them. Words directed at the seemingly lifeless man, with efforts of which were designed to wake the man from the dead.

The husband, who had just come from the factory of God, a church institution of sorts which combined corporate and religious interests; now rose to the occasion of his own humanity to save the stranger as best he could. The young man held his wife’s hand real tight. He was wearing his Sunday’s best, a pure white business suit with matching shoes that glowed and sparkled in the light like a new born giving birth to the sun of reason and morning which they were glowing in.

He raised his other hand to heaven as he screamed out profanities.

Such words which included the usage of language not suitable for the ears of children, all in an attempt to get the outsider back on his feet or at least back from the brink of an existence he was surely slipping away into. To gain his attention was what this exorcism, this exercise was all about. Nothing else mattered in the immediacy of the moment, which everyone would agree was in everyone's best interest.

Mr. and Mrs. Bridge were the most adorable young couple in the world, which happened to be the town. They were the picture of perfection, real eye candy for the masses. Pretty and handsome are just words. This couple was perfection incarnate to the residence of this world.

The people of the community admired everything about the Bridges. They were so sweet, so gentle and so loving to animals and accommodating in every way to everyone they met. It was enough to make one blush.

A series of seriously harsh words flooded out of their mouths in demonic fashion, simultaneously, as if rehearsed or staged for the occasion. They found sticks and rocks near by and began to punish the man for his own good. “It is for the best!” “It is for your own good!” they screamed.

The Mr. and the Mrs. only had love in their hearts and peace on their minds as they began the beating campaign. They were fighting for peace in every way they could. What is the use of having peace if you are not willing to kill someone for it?

They employed every weapon of persuasion. A disciplined person is a happy person. If they had to beat him and curse him to death they would, in an effort to save him. It was a fevered enterprise by both of them to revive the man. It involved the elongated loud screaming of colorful metaphors, sullied language, profanity, including slurs not heard of for decades around these parts. They utilized every fowl word at their disposal from a dictionary of choice with a lexicon of choice words to serve a purpose, to achieve the required results, to attain their goals for a nobler cause of course.

Broadcasting peppered curses, (generally speaking) garnished with course language, (with a clear intent not meant to garner favor in the eyes of the recipient) were necessary in any event to gain his attention and awaken him from his condition. Without regrets they were relentless in their task to awaken the off world-er. For that they will be eternally honored throughout the ages in the pages of the factory of god, the one and only yellow disc for whom they will be acknowledged.

It seemed such efforts proved futile. They continued with due diligence to prod, to cajole, to shout at him loud enough to wake the dead, to bring him back to consciousness, a place where he may or may not have come from in the first place. Perhaps it was the heat of the sun which finally got the strangers attention but it was some time later and after one side of his face had already turned to a toasty red with purple-y blisters. He finally came around to their wishes for him to be alive by responding with a solemn groan of pain or was it simply the influence of the sun burning holes in him with heat too intolerable and does it matter any way?

The inquiries posited to the nearly comatose man by the truly inspired, truly curious couple, rattled the man who clearly did not wish to be disturbed or returned to the land of the living at this hour, whatever ungodly hour that might be or to answer questions directed at him by them, whoever they might be.

The mister and misses came to the conclusion that the man was either deficient in his reasoning abilities, faculties which could be deemed as feeble at best or perhaps he was simply mute or down right ignorant. Being lazy or ignoring them on purpose is rude. It could be that he might have viewed them as strangers and very strange indeed.

The sleepy man for his part realized there was nothing he could do but comply, capitulate to their wishes because they were relentless in their powers of persuasion, manners which could be construed as improper on some occasions.

They surely had more energy and will than him so he stood up and held his head in confusion, staggering into day light where the scorching sun seemed to be still punishing him for being there.

The couple motioned with their index fingers for the man to follow them into town. Apparently he understood because soon after, the three sojourners proceeded on their way in a northerly direction to the appropriate appointed destination which they called home.

Once in the center of Olden Square a crowd gathered to inspect the duos find. It isn’t every day they get visitors. Strangers of any kind are unheard of. Local officers were summoned to inspect the new arrival.

The unknown person obviously understood all of their questions as his head bobbed up and down repeatedly to signal yes and moved from left to right to answer no to inquiries that flew at him from all directions.

Two doctors joined in on the one sided conversation as the man in question remained mute. He was presented with a pen and paper.

They figured if he could not speak perhaps or maybe he can write. It turned out they were correct. The stranger wrote, “My name is Cliff.” “I do not know how I got here but here I am.” “Where am I?”

The authorities decided to have this matter, which could easily turn ugly or into a spectacle, moved the alien indoors to protect the citizens from potential contamination and any further confusion which was sure to arise due to the nature of the specter in the form of an unknown visitor.

First stop was the Plateau office of legal affairs to interview and process the outsider. Two functionaries of the courts searched the foreigner for his identity papers and clues as to who he might be and where he might have come from. The man had nothing on his person except a silver protractor which protruded from his left sock. One of the guards almost cut himself on the sharp edge of the instrument while he patted the man down for anything and everything on his person. The protractor was not immediately visible as it was hidden by the strangers long brown trousers and buried well within the creases of a long white sock.

Upon this profound discovery, all things including time, stopped. Eyes of all in attendance grew large and round, beyond wild with surprise at this most unusual, most peculiar revelation. What does this mean? What implication will this object have on the community? Who in their right mind carries such a thing in their socks?

Cliff took his pen and paper in hand to explain. He wrote, “I use this instrument to measure things.” The head officer questioned, “Where do you come from?” The stranger responded, “From down below.” “Off the plateau.” “I live in the second valley region beyond the lower central ridge.” The officer shouted, “That is impossible!” “No one in the history of existence has ever come from down there!” His hands trembled as he read then dropped the paper with this shocking message written on it. The page floated gently in the air then fell slowly to the floor as if it came from another planet with a life of its own and terror etched on its surface.

The commandant could not dismiss the implications or potential ramifications if the words on the paper are true.

The face of the heavy set law man grew a brighter red, verging on shiny purple as he continued his investigation with a stutter, “You have wonderful penmanship sir.” “Your writing style is impeccable but you must be lying!” “No one has ever left this place to go down there!” “There is no way anyone or anything from down there can come up here to the plateau!” “Everybody knows that!”

The stranger continued to write, “I only know that I woke up on the edge of the cliff and here I am as mystified as the rest of you.”

After a time, after more questioning, the situation seemed to defuse itself.

Cliff was instructed to follow two appointed doctors to their respective offices to have his body and mind evaluated. He was accompanied by several security guards for the purpose of keeping the peace, the well being and safety for all parties concerned.

At this point the stranger was not under arrest but he certainly was under inspection. Scrutiny and suspicion would describe the situation best.

Dr. Fine, the town’s general practitioner and surgeon gave the new visitor a complete physical. Everything seemed to be normal from his perspective regarding the 29 year old Cliff. The evaluations and studies showed no transmittable or toxic pathogens in the blood work, no abnormalities or anomalies to cause concern or threat to the general population from what could be surmised. Everything checked out fine in accordance with the observable information provided.

The second doctor, Dr. Gluon, checked the stranger’s neurological condition with sophisticated analytical machinery. The brain scans and mental patterns appeared to be correct, all tests came back normal within acceptable parameters. That is to say, the scope of known medical science of the time, which isn’t really saying anything at all.

Drilling down into the subatomic framework of the mind, inside the crevasses, secret levels where reality really is, where the psychological elements of the stranger’s thoughts reside, proved to be problematic since the man can not or will not talk. How do you get into a persons being or inside their head if they’re not speaking?

The crowds could not be kept away. The towns people were becoming restless, clearly hysterical with the passage of time. A multitude of leaks unleashed regarding the alien among them grew. The constant precipitating of raw gossip now turned into floods of misinformation and speculations regarding the man. Storms of fantastic stories concerning the unknown someone who; in his own words states that he comes from off the plateau and outside their sphere of understanding as they know the world; their world, their existence, the one they live in, which was now under attack while they scrambled for answers to these mysteries coming from the abyss of the black existence beyond their grasp.

These are simple people with basic common sense and understanding about god and nature and corporations. Everything is so easy and was so easy until now.

For all intense and purposes, god was assumed to be a yellow sphere or two dimensional disc of intense hot light glowing above them at a great distance; most likely a disc much like the one they experience over their flat world and heads on most days. When the clouds settle in just below the plateau, blocking out the light, life off the plateau ceases to exist. God no longer exists. How could he? It would be ridiculous to think of him as being there if there is no light and heat. Everybody knows that.

But being god, he can do anything or most things that the rest of us can not. As soon as the clouds pass, god comes back into existence. It is all so very logical and easy and simple. Their universe is flat. Their top of the plateau world is flat. They keep life simple. They must keep it that way because they must.

Understanding the unknown as an unknowable is beyond them. A thought brought on by the visitor in their midst that something else is out there is making them frantic, maybe even a little crazy. Killing him, murdering him is not out of the question but cooler heads must prevail.

As their minds and feelings fill up with monsters, their heads ready to explode from fear, with grotesque images and misconceptions forming in their pretty little heads, along with overflowing thoughts of hostility fermenting toxic anger about the alien and his intent, someone or some thing must take control of this volatile situation before something dangerous and deadly occurs.

Who is this stranger? Why is he here? Why has he come to invade our space, our loving peaceful community? We are entitled to our peace and tranquil way of life even if it means killing everyone and everything in sight. It is most unsettling to say the least. Hanging is a quick solution. Hanging seems right. A unanimous vote would be sure to come and easy to execute to solve the situation at hand.

They were at the point of no return, ready to go ballistic or even worse, with all fuses lit ready to explode on the intruder. What right, what entitlement does he think he has to just waltz right in to our gentle, peaceful community, with only love in our hearts and him or it with no invitation? It is an invasion!

The citizens of the flat world were united, nearly thermonuclear in their collective desires for retribution towards the alien. Their hostility, their lust for revenge regarding the protractor carrier and his peculiar device now exposed for all to see, pushed them over the edge with the clear evidence they needed to proceed.

They became angrier at the thought of it and him. Why is a measuring thing in the young man’s sock? Who cares if the socks were clean and fragrant and white and matching? What was he doing with that god forsaken thing to begin with?!

An elderly woman in her mid nineties, give or take twenty years or a few centuries for all they knew, walked into the office of legal affairs to pay her regards to the authorities and friends. She noticed that everyone gathered there were agitated. One of the court functionaries drew her aside to fill her in on the matter at hand with the accompanying gruesome details regarding the off plateau person, the outer worlder and other such things. The old lady decided to pay a visit to Dr. Gluon herself to see what was going on. She referred to herself as Daisy but everyone called her Mrs. Smith out of respect. The stranger was still there with the doctor and town handlers, still under observation as they called it or being “observed” as they say.

She met Cliff and talked with him at great length. He seemed perfectly normal to her so she invited him to stay at her place for a while after all the looking and touching was done. Cliff nodded, (which was his style.)

Several days later after staying with Daisy at her estate at the edge of town, the young man decided to walk, to saunter about the streets to get some fresh air and to get acquainted with the people there.

He did more than that. He spoke very clearly and distinctly to everyone he met. The mute among them was no more. He can speak?

The revelation that he could speak and speak very intelligently and clearly in their own language really freaked them out. He acted nonchalant as if nothing had ever happened. He tried to fit in as a regular citizen without a care in the world. That proved to be a fatal mistake.

He was captured by a squad of law enforcement agents just above Olden Square and thrown promptly into a holding cell were he would remain.

The governor of the Plateau was called in to investigate and judge the matter once and for all. Keeping of the peace must be the front and center pillar of justice for all civilizations. Keeping it intact is certainly essential.

Daisy visited Cliff in his jail cell. She was the number one spy and informant in town and on the plateau. No one could keep secrets from her. She came to inform the stranger that his fate was sealed. The governor of the upper world had no plans of ever meeting or judging him in person. The governor was deathly afraid of the stranger. It was decided by all concerned that Cliff should return to the off world the good old fashioned way. He would be hurled off the edge by a couple of new “friends” when he least expected it

Mrs. Smith looked Cliff right in the eyes and said, “Young man, they are about to give you an injection in your sleep.” “It is a sedative and toxic poison.” “If you wake up while they are administering the needle they will tell you it is to comfort you and make you sleep.” “After that they will take you for a walk to get some fresh air to clear your head.” “They will toss your body over the edge of the plateau in the middle of a sentence.” “Your sentence of death will then be read to you out loud on your way down in keeping with the law of the highlands.”

Lucky for Cliff the guard on duty was lazy and portly. Add slow to the mix and you have escape written all over it. When it came time for Daisy to leave, the officer came to open the cell door for her. The stranger dashed out like a bolt of lightning, more like a bunny because he was scared and before the guard could utter the word dah, which was probably the extent of his vocabulary and pinnacle of his formal education.

When the off world-er disappeared he left behind the protractor. The up landers leaders lost it. Now the children have that weapon of mass destruction for insidious uses. The measuring of many circles and other things was about to begin.

There would be no more peace, no more sleep for any of the Plateau inhabitants who lived their lives under the influence of ancient clocks and rulers. Little did they know such devices were delusions meant to work only under certain time and space locations.

Their days will be numbered, measured out by the protractor in all its semicircular glory, abilities too numerous to mention here. A device designed to control and define all angles, shapes and sizes of every kind for everyone alive on and off the plateau.

What will happen to the people in the higher up place when they discover that they are not alone in the universe, that there is more to life than a plateau, that the sun is not just a thin wafer in the sky, not a god, not a gold disc or yellow object floating in the cosmos?

What if the world is round? Is it worth mentioning it to the corporate authorities or measuring it without proper documentation and ancient wisdom? Who needs tools? Only a fool would jeopardize a good thing like bliss. Just ask Mr. & Mrs. Bridge.