Part 74

A chariot smashed into the side of another, and high-pitched screams as of the wild geese filled the air. The chariots lined up, one behind the other, all emitting similar shrills.

Something here is akilter, he thought.

He noted men being disgorged by the shrilling chariots, shouting each to the other and making aggressive motions with closed fists.

Then arrived chariots with fires of red and blue flashing upon their heads, screaming like night creatures in tales he had been told.

These in turn disgorged men adorned in blue cloth, with shining metal decorations on their chests. These men in turned carried sticks, and screamed and shouted at those who had gone before.

In due time the horseless chariots moved away, the mass chasing in single file the leader. And endless sequence followed madly after the leading chariot. Was this a race, or a new form of war?

Along the pathway a bench attracted his attention, and he sat down, took dried venison from his poke. A young man, perhaps his own age, approached.

"Hey, got a dollar? I'd like to borrow a dollar for a while."

"What, pray, is a dollar?"

The youth stared at him for a moment. "All right, forget it! Whatcha eatin'? What's in th' poke?" He gestured toward Demo's pouch.

"Food, good food. Would you care for some tasty viands?"

"Vines? Did you say vines? That ain't vines you're eatin'. Looks like meat to me. You got any more?"

"Yes, try it. You'll find it quite tasty. My mother dried it under the sun, salted it herself."

The suppliant tasted the dried venison, looked at Demo in disbelief. "Hell, I'm going to the Salvation Army. You really eat this stuff!"

A large horseless chariot pulled up alongside him. A woman starred at him through some strange, clear material. She smiled, then laughed. He looked around to see what caused her laughter.

Nothing untoward met his sight. Ill-dressed heathens strolled aimlessly, it seemed, along the wide pathway. No, there was nothing amusing to be seen.

Frowning, he continued to eat his dried venison. Two men dismounted from the chariot, and it drove away, moaning in a disquieting manner.

Inside the passengers were looking at him through the viewing space in the rear.

Perhaps it is my garb. Here they dress strangely.

"Hare Krishna?"

One of the passengers who had descended addressed him.

"No, Demo."

"That's a new one. Is it Indian?"

"I don't think so. Greek."

"Greek? Well, new ones are popping up all over. Here, just to show you I'm open-minded, I'll donate a couple of bucks. Good luck."

The man walked off, murmuring, "Demo, and Greek! L A is the place, I'll tell you!"

He approached a large building. It had openings through which he could see, but could not enter. However, watching the strange people he noted an entrance that resembled a whirligig. My, he thought, how many years since I played with a whirligig. Anyway, as people went in and out, the door rotated.

Finally, he entered the building.