2005-11-23T22:02:00.000-08:00

Please Note: These clues are very vague and you should take your time doing this series. Hunting with several others may increase your chances of finding these 4 boxes.

Angels on the “Other Side”*

The Right Reverend Tom Noone had put the call out to gather his flock for repentance and redemption. On the eve of their coming together, he retired to his bed for the night. Sleep eluded him. He knew that those who he lovingly called together had previously endured his mysterious and mischievous ways, but had not he, himself, repented? Oh, his followers were indeed a most inquisitive lot by nature, and mighty observant. Would they trust their newly redeemed and ordained collaborator? Doubt riddled his mind as to whether or not he could deliver as promised. He needed to give them some kind of proof that all was still as it had been. Finally, he drifted off into a troubled sleep….

Tom found himself near where his followers were to gather traveling through whirling mist at the eastern end of a park., smiling that, in his dream, he was in a place named for one of the most famous long distance trekkers in his flock, an Atlas of a man, in his estimation. The Rev was compelled by some unseen force to walk forward toward an edifice with a passageway in its middle. He focused and in the mist stood a most familiar winged angel…wearing a trench coat.

“Michael?” he murmured, incredulous at the apparition of John Travolta apparently reprising his movie role.

“Hey, Rev! Yep, it’s me. C’mon! Let’s get outta here. We have places to go and people to see.”

Tom No one dumbly followed not quite understanding what exactly was going on. On the “other side” the sun shone.

“Ya know,” I got the word that you had called some folks together to repent or something like that. What a bunch of hooey, Tom. What the heck were you thinking? That stuff’s only PC in the red states.”

Tom, after having given his mischievous past over to a more pious, contemplative life replied,” Well, Michael, I just thought….”

“Lighten up Tom. We’re here to have fun so I’m gonna introduce you to some of my friends so you can turn your pals on to them too.”

They passed fields of dreams.

“Oh, by the way, friend, hope you have some comfy walking shoes on since we’ll be heading off the beaten path from time to time.”

Tom looked down at his feet and found, by some dream-induced miracle, he had his hiking boots on.

Michael was humming some indistinct tune. All of a sudden he held up his wrist and studied his Dick Tracy Wrist Radio-Compass-Weather Station-Homeland Security Warning Level Detector and yelled “315!!!!” and then headed toward the two sisters.

“Yeah, Tom, this is the right path! Michael started skipping down the path, his wings keeping rhythm with his pace.

A short distance later, the angel skidded to the stop. He turned to face Tom, bowed, lifted his hand and,with a flourish, pointed the same hand toward a tree on his right.

“Holy Moley! The Holy (hole-y) Oak!!!!! Ya know, I gotta do lunch with Satan. When he sends a bolt of lightning, he just doesn’t get it.” He shook his head in disgust. “Amateur! And he talks about Hellfire and Brimstone. Now, Rev, get over here and look inside this old tree and you’ll meet the first of the folks I told you about.”

Tom did as he was instructed and made the acquaintance with the Angel of India.

Once she and Tom had exchanged a few words, he bade good-bye and gently returned her to her place in the tree. Tom had to run to keep up with Michael who was now wearing an iPod and beating his wings to ‘Thriller’ and moon-walking backwards.

“Man, ya gotta get one of these things. Sweet! Do I do the moonwalk like that other Michael?”

Tom shook his head, “Um…no…not… exactly.” He didn’t wish to hurt Michael’s feelings. Tom was guided due north past a strange gray faux stone post. After having envisaged one of history’s most courageous angels, he was encouraged that his followers would enjoy this quest immensely. In the midst of the forest, Michael stopped dead in his tracks.

“Well, will ya look at this!” He straightened up, arching his wings.” Apparently, Brother Tom, we are not alone. Looks like we’re at the famous “place of the face.” Find the Eye of the Beholder! Look up! Look up! Look up! Porcine cherubim from afar away!

Tom looked around, puzzled, while Michael relaxed and leaned back on the painted rock, his uplifted head nodding to the left, his left wing extended and pointing upward. Tom followed his cryptic motions, scrambled upward and ran head-on into Funhog’s Cherubim who had flown far from home..

Michael and Tom went on and in a few feet stopped again. The winged one screwed up his face and squinted looking off to his right, “ Rev, does anyone ever really understand that crazy Picasso? I mean, why would he be out in the middle of the woods in Rhode Island painting on a tree? I just don’t get these artistic types at all. Let’s keep him on our right and we’ll be 100° /_o.”

Michael stopped along the way and pulled a golf club and ball out of his trench coat and yelled, “Hey Rev! “T” Time. CCXX! Fore!!!!” He swung at the ball and sliced it exactly the wrong way. “Drat!!! I did not want it to go to the right when the fairway is to the left!” He threw the club in the air and it disappeared. “ Guess I’d better stick to my day job.”

Michael sprinted ahead down the trail flapping his wings leaving Tom alone with his thoughts. Even though this was a dream, he was having a great time with this weird half-man, half-angel who had a most strange sense of humor. He followed a trail of feathers that had fallen from Michael’s wings. The path curved here and there and right in the middle of the trail he beheld the strangest sight! Norman Rockwell was sitting there with a brush in one hand, a palette of oil paints in another, working at an easel. Over his shoulder Michael stood pointing to a portion of the canvas. Now, Tom was really stunned and he walked up, curious as to what the great painter was creating. The canvas was blank!.

“Hey Tom,” Michael called out,” I’d like to introduce you to a friend of mine who paints stuff I understand. Mr. Rockwell just finished a painting I think your friends will really enjoy. The subject is downright angelic and goes along with all the others we’ve met so far. If you want to see it, head on over to that erratic there on your right and to the right side and you’ll see what he’s been up to. Tom did as he was told and beheld the Angels of Mercy and agreed that this was indeed another example of all of the angels who touch our lives. He returned the painting to its rightful place and, side by side, they continued their walk in the woods. Soon, the angel noted to Rev. Tom, “The cedars are particularly lovely this year. I think it is wonderful that we are going left toward them to follow this most interesting unbeaten meadow’s path. Man, I love meadows, don’t you? You just can’t go wrong when you’re dancing across them and they’re filled with flowers and butterflies.” Instantly, he lifted off the ground and did somersaults in the air over the grassy fields and then disappeared toward the trees.

Tom picked up his pace trying to follow and soon enough got back on the trail. He thought that this journey was getting ever stranger and was certain of it when he heard a guitar and singing off in the distance. He looked off to his right and saw the angel playing air guitar and singing “Stairway to Heaven.” in front of a laddered tree. Tom approached the strange scene. Michael, with his back to the tree in a falsetto voice, sang out,”… With a word she can get what she came for. Ooh, ooh, and she's buying a stairway to heaven”. and adlibbed “...or about 75° /_o anyway...so the snow angel told me…ooh, ooh. (he gave his hips a wild gyration or two)…yeah, that foxy snow angel’s on the stairway to heaven…ooh, ooh..and she’s buying a stairway to heaven.” Michael flew over Tom’s head and hovered in front of a strange tree with a rock cairn in its crotch. “ Hey, ya gotta meet this Snow Angel, Tom! She’s soooooo cooooooooool.”

After Tom made the acquaintance of the Snow Angel, he noted that Michael was standing at a trail intersection. “Why(Y) are we here, Rev?” And then the answer to his own question seemed to dawn on him and he recovered. “I was sure I was wrong about where we were, Tom. But I know which way is right and it would be sinister to go the other way.”

“Hey, Rev, look! Another way cool ladder! Let’s check it out.” The angel and Tom stepped up on top of the levee and faced the Triplets of Belleville in wood. Confused as to which way to go, Michael stopped to get his bearings from the gadget on his wrist. He heard a strange noise and pointed to an airplane flying overhead.

“Do you fly much, Tom? I prefer Southwest myself though, ahem, I usually get around pretty much under my own power, if ya know what I mean!”

They walked for a few minutes and Michael sniffed the air and stopped dead in his tracks, putting his arm up in a protective maneuver to keep his friend from stepping on a bridge.

“Wait!!!!!!!! Stop!!!” Michael warned. “Richard Cranium is on that bridge and he’s usually up to no good so we better not go that way!“Hope the levee holds too and this time we’ll choose the righteous path so when you wake up, you’ll feel like you’ve been in a dream and not a nightmare.

Soon, they got to the rock clock and left the woods proper, again past fields of dreams. As they neared the place where angel and man began their journey, Michael put his hand out to Tom.

“Thanks, my friend, for going with me on this little journey. I hope you had a great time meeting all my angel friends. Go tell your pals to forget about that repenting stuff and, as Pepe says, “just get out there and box.” Tom No one woke up, jumped out of bed and headed to gather his flock humming “Stairway to Heaven” knowing with absolute certainty, they’d all get what they came for.

A Pinecone, Dink (The Grim Reaper) and Alafair Production

*LIMITED EDITION SERIES - END DATE: AROUND JAN. 15, 2006

Apologies to grammatical purists for breaking all the rules.

A Pinecone, Dink & Alafair Combined Production

Angels on the Other Side