“A postcard from Devin.” Walking down the three stone steps into the cosy candlelit chamber, Mary smiled as she handed the picture card to the father and patriarch of the tunnels, Jacob Wells. Her long hair braided into a French plait shone neath the candlelight.
“Kipper just brought it down,” she told him. “I took the liberty of reading it. He’s having a wonderful time.”

Jacob patted the seat of a chair positioned alongside his own. “Come join me for some tea, Mary. Would you like a cookie?” He fumbled for his spectacles and when they were secured upon his nose he took the picture postcard from her hand.
“Alaska?” He murmured surprised. “How that boy gets around.” Mary detected the chuckle in his tone mixed with a thread of wistfulness that she knew to be a yearning for the sights his son Devin had seen and for the places that he, Jacob, would never see. Not only that, but more importantly the sights that his other son, Vincent would never see.
“I know what you are thinking, Jacob.” Mary leaned over to grasp and squeeze Father’s arm. “But Vincent never envies Devin’s travels, he is only too happy to learn of them when his brother visits us. And I’m sure as usual Devin will be gushing with news of his latest trip. He’s gone skiing, hasn’t he?”
Father nodded. “Alone too. Just like the foolhardy son he is. I quit worrying about him a long time ago. He appears to be made of rubber. Bounces back from whatever life throws at him. It’s a pity Vincent isn’t the same.” he added ruefully.
“At least Catherine doesn’t take him on those wild expeditions anymore. Long gone are the days when she needed his assistance and he risked his life and neck to save her time after time. Now that she resides here with us, those days seem to be a thing of the past, thank God.” Mary assured him.
Relieved to be reminded, Father smiled. “Mary, my dear, thank you.”
“For what?” She smiled indulgently.
“For reminding me I have no need to worry about Vincent’s welfare anymore. He is, I know, safe in Catherine’s hands. Dear Catherine, and to think I spent too long trying to thwart that particular relationship. Goodness, just imagine if I had succeeded in that particular pursuit!”
“You didn’t, so quit fretting. Now may I take this postcard and show it to Vincent?”
Father smiled. “Yes of course, no doubt he will add it to his collection. The one entitled South of Oz and North of Shangrila. The scrapbook that depicts all of Devin’s travels since he left us at the tender age of fourteen.” With that Father sighed despairingly and Mary squeezed his arm, knowing his thoughts. “It was a long time ago, Jacob, and Devin has forgiven you. Don’t fret so. Leaving the tunnels at such a young age did Devin no harm in fact I believe it was the making of him. Such a gentle man he has become. Always looking out for others and he so loves his brother! He would do anything for Vincent. I do believe Devin gains more from the things he encounters than what is normal simply because he wants to memorise every little detail for the sake of his brother.”
“Yes you could be right, Mary. In fact I’m sure you are. Yes, please take the postcard to Vincent and ask him if he would like to share the evening with me, perhaps we can discuss Devin’s whereabouts, follow his trail so to speak with the aid of the atlas.”
Rising from her chair, Mary patted his shoulder. “I’m sure he will look forward to that. I’ll see you at supper, Jacob.”
Father nodded, and watched her leave over the rim of his glasses, thanking God with every step that she took for the kind soul that she was. That was another thing, how could he have overlooked how special she was for so long? It hadn’t been until Vincent and Catherine’s marriage that he had realised, thanks to a deliberate hint from Catherine, how much Mary had meant to his life and shortly after that momentous event he had asked for and received Mary’s hand in marriage. An occasion he had never lived to regret, and only wishing he had asked her sooner. Mary was one in a million, and he loved her with all his heart.
Father sighed and leaned back in his chair, life was good, perhaps too good. Everyone was happy. And it always worried him when everyone was blissfully happy. He took it as a sign that something dreadful was in the air and about to strike them down and stop them from knowing such contentment. He hoped not, but an ominous feeling washed over him even as he tried desperately to ignore it. Whatever it was, whatever ‘thing’ had just walked over his grave was very real and very threatening and Father just hoped it was tiredness acting on his imagination…he hoped but did not entirely believe that’s all it was…Vincent might be empathic but sometimes, he too knew when something was amiss…
Like now…and during the minutes that followed the feeling persisted and it just would not go away. Somewhere, somehow, someone close to him was in trouble…and the most infuriating thing was - in his situation, even though he were a doctor, he couldn’t do a blessed thing to help them.

Like warm soft water, whispers caressed him, passing over him where he lay. Voices indistinguishable to both his tired mind and his intellect. Rising up from unconsciousness where sleep had claimed him hours before, Devin lay with eyes closed trying to understand what was being said, but he admitted defeat to a language like no other. He’d been around and he knew a few different tongues, but never had he ever heard anything like this before. Listening intently afforded him more of the language, cracking open an eye gave him a view of people that not only spoke differently they used mannerisms to express what they were saying to one another.
He watched them awkwardly as from ground level their faces were obscured by the firelight that only served to twist and distort their features and blend the colours of dragon fire with the swirling smoke that came from somewhere to the right of him. Devin felt its warmth, knew it to be a campfire and revelled in the luxuriating glow that seemed to go right through to his bones. Bones that had so recently been frozen from the nights and days spent lying in the snow. A sudden thought seized him. What of his arm? He had known such pain from the broken limb but now there was nothing and he struggled to know whether that arm still existed or had they…whomever they were…cut it off? Relieved to feel his fingertips graze something hard at his side, Devin relaxed happy to find that his arm was still in existence and now secured with splints, placed in a healing position and devoid of pain.
His sudden movement however had sent the people away from his side almost as if they were afraid to be seen by him, but that was ridiculous, they had obviously saved his life and he could not understand their lingo anyway. Yet no sooner had he thought it then did one amble back to his side and bending touched his shoulder rocking him to full consciousness. Devin had no alternative but to fully open his eyes.
“Hi.” He croaked and instantly a mug of deliciously cool water was placed to his parched lips. He drank thirstily, feeling the water slide down his throat and into an empty belly that rumbled in protest. His companion laughed. And Devin thought how strange it was that laughter sounded the same in any language. It was also infectious, for Devin was smiling when the mug was taken from his lips.
“Thank you. I feel much better for that.”
The figure loomed over him and Devin heard rather than saw the click of the man’s fingers as he signalled to someone standing a few feet away. Moments later he smelt the tantalising aroma of cooked meat, sizzling hot from the fire and then a strong arm around his shoulders easing him into a sitting position. “Thank you.” Devin mumbled and accepted the offered plate of meat. He bit into it with relish and uttered satisfied grunts as the fat dribbled down his chin and the succulent meat melted under the gnashing of his teeth. “Mm” was all Devin could manage, as he satisfied his craving for food, until a belch worked it way up with the water and he managed a guttural, “this is delicious!”
More laughter followed and Devin looked up gazing over the meat he held in one hand to look at the people around him. They were indeed different, extremely large and well built unless it was all padding to keep out the cold. In fact… Devin gazed to his left and to his right and noted that he was still out on the snow, yet here with them, the campfire and the food, he felt almost at home.
Home.
With that one word he stopped chewing as the thought of the tunnels and his family sent a sudden sweep of homesickness flooding through him. He never thought in all his life he would miss them as much as he missed them at that moment, and these people…their physique, their mannerisms…they reminded him of his brother…yet how could that be? No one in all his life no matter where he had been and whom he had encountered had ever reminded him of Vincent. Devin laughed then. What were mannerisms and physique to do with it? No one anywhere could ever look like his brother and that was the end of the matter.
Yet…Devin paused, chewing a piece of meat slowly, who were these people? A language he could not decipher not even to say ‘oh yes that’s French or that’s German, I don’t know what they’re saying but I know by the dialect that’s what it is.’ He couldn’t say that, because this language was like none he had ever heard before, save from the animals. He gasped, animals? Yes, if he listened that’s what it was, they spoke fluently with hoots and howls, chatters and whines he even detected the odd sound of birds among their tone and those mannerisms! Watching them was like watching a play unfold. Devin was fascinated!
Yet for all of that they seemed to understand him? True, he hadn’t said much, but they had known he was thirsty, had known he was starving and had accepted his word of thanks without asking what he was saying, so surely they understood him, unless to them his language sounded animal like also? And something in his manner must have alerted them now, maybe it was the way he was staring at them, maybe it was because he hesitated in his eating to watch them talk among themselves, but all of a sudden they stilled and turned as one to look at him, and in the light from the fire Devin gasped and the meat fell from his hands, as he looked into the faces of not one, but half a dozen or more replica’s of his brother Vincent and at that point Devin knew that he had to be hallucinating!
That was it then…in the desert one saw a mirage, on the snow at the point of death one saw an image that tricked one into believing one had been rescued - were warm when they were in actuality frozen – were fed when they were starving – were given water when they were parched – that’s what it had to be – yes that’s what it had to be!
“Do not be afraid.” The voice was softly spoken but one Devin did understand. And despite his questions he remained silent watching the mouth move, that top upper lip split at its centre to form a cleft, a mouth that told him not to worry just as his brother Vincent had told a hundred people and more when they first clapped eyes on him.
“We will not hurt you.” The voice whispered. Devin nodded, he knew that, he bore a scar from a run in with his brother, but through and through Vincent was gentle and tender in all his ways. Devin was not afraid of these people, these people that resembled his brother through and through.
“I know.” Devin muttered. “I know I can trust you.” The one speaking turned to the others and beckoned them round and Devin watched as they came one by one and cautiously so as not to frighten him bent down to sit on haunches all around where he half lay, half sat looking at them each in turn slowly, one by one.
“You do seem unafraid. Have we ever met before?” The first one asked of him in bewilderment.
“Not you, another. I have met another.” In confusion the speaker translated to the others and Devin saw the disbelief in all their eyes.
“That cannot be. We would have known had you met one of us before. It would have been logged, recorded and you would have received…” he hesitated and then leaning down to Devin he drew aside the blanket took up Devin’s good arm and pulling back his sleeve revealed a tattoo Devin had not known was there. “This.” The speaker told him. “We would have seen this.”
“What the hell!” Devin scrambled to a full sitting position. “Where did this come from!” He cried looking from each member of the Vincent people and back to their speaker.
“I’m sorry but it is by necessity that this is done. Everyone that has ever encountered us are marked this way, so that we know and can identify those we know of as helpers around the world wherever they go.”
“Helpers? That’s interesting.” Devin remarked.
With his head to one side, birdlike the speaker among them enquired in silence for Devin to elaborate.
“Where I come from, people that are not within the community I know of as family are named helpers.” For some reason Devin refrained from telling them about his brother. It would have been so easy to do so but something held him back. Besides it was all still a little unreal and having kept his brother’s identity a secret all his life he wasn’t about to blurt out his existence even to people that looked the spitting image of him.
“I see. So you will understand, will you not, that helpers need to be distinguishable from the norm, and since we are a multi national race we need…” He stopped in mid sentence as Devin blurted, “A multi national race? Do you mean there are more of you? But how is this possible? I’ve never seen any people like you before.”
“I thought you said you had?”
“Well…” Devin was unsure of what to say. “Just forget I mentioned that for the moment, okay? You just tell me about this race of people. Are you all like this?” He nodded toward the speaker’s face thus making his indication clear.
“Yes. And as to your earlier question, how is it possible?” Devin nodded. “We keep ourselves very private. Some have seen us, or have thought they’ve seen us, but they have never seen our faces. All of our helpers have been people like you who have been injured and near death and with no likelihood of rescue we have taken them in. And we have trusted them in keeping our secret and we have marked them for identification to others of our clan around the world, by that simple snakelike symbol upon your wrist. Nothing in the tattoo reveals us to people, homosapiens. We are neither snakelike in appearance nor are we snakelike in our personality. You will find us to be a gentle and trusting people and we do hope that you will keep the secret of our existence to yourself?” It was a question rather than a statement and Devin nodded enthusiastically. “I will, you can trust me. I will tell not a soul.”
“Thank you. And now perhaps we should introduce ourselves. I am Singing Jay, you may call me Jay, everyone does, and you I know are Devin Wells.” When Devin gasped, Jay bent down to touch Devin’s pack and more precisely the pocket where he kept his passport, ID and driver’s license so that he understood that not only had they taken the liberty of marking him as a helper but they had also gone through his belongings to seek his identity.
“This is Merry Wolf, my brother and this is…” He went on with the introductions, and Devin tried to keep pace, but it was simply difficult. To have the faces swim before him one by one, bright shining eyes, was almost too much for Devin to take in. From knowing one face like this in all his life to this many at once and to know that there were hundreds, possibly thousands more was mind boggling! And at the back of all those thoughts was the one thread, the only one possible in the circumstances…’this is where Vincent came from…this is where my brother belongs…not in tunnels in a hole in the ground…but free…to roam the mountains to feel the sunshine on his shoulders and the wind in his hair.’ And one other question, ‘if Vincent belonged to these people, if he was indeed one of them,’ and Devin was sure that he was, ‘then how had he become detached from them?’ Yet as burning as that question was, Devin could still not bring himself to tell them about Vincent, as something, some uncanny sixth sense, told him he should withhold that kind of information until he really knew who these people were and why in the thousands of years of humanity only a handful of people like himself had ever been privileged to see them.

“What is it, Vincent? You seem distracted. Is everything alright between you and Catherine?” Father asked as Vincent failed to move his knight into a position whereby Father would have found his own move decidedly tricky. “I can’t believe you missed that move.” He added with a reassuring smile hoping to encourage his son to tell him whatever was on his mind.
“Catherine and I are fine, Father.” Vincent sighed raggedly.
“Yet I find that hard to accept, something is wrong surely?” Father prompted kindly.
“Not with Catherine and I. It’s something else. Something and nothing, but it bothers me relentlessly.”
“Talking will help.” Father suggested with a twinkle in his eye.
“I tried that with Catherine, it didn’t work.” Father tried not to be miffed at that response. It was hard to learn to let go to someone else. Vincent didn’t confine in him as much as he used to do, preferring to use Catherine as a sounding board instead. Father understood why, the closeness between husband and wife was right, as the Bible counselled a man will leave his mother and father and will stick to his wife to become one flesh, but all the same Father missed the talks he and his son once shared, and the counsel Vincent would seek from an older and wiser person.
“Maybe I could be of help?” Father suggested hopefully, he wanted to add many things to that but none of them placed Catherine in her rightful position, all of them would devaluate her and he did not intend to do that.
Fortunately no more words were needed as Vincent leaned back in his over large chair and nodded. “Maybe you are right, Father.” He paused and then just as Father had expected he rose and began pacing the length of the threadbare carpeting between the desk and Father’s sleeping quarters. Back and forth back and forth collecting his thoughts together, finding the words he needed to explain so that Father would not jump to wrong conclusions by an incorrectly used phrase. Vincent was always careful in this way, conscious of his parent’s age and what shocks might do to his system. Yet what he needed now to get off his chest posed no such shocks, or none that Vincent could make sense of.
“Father, you well know that my empathic connection with Catherine is extended to other people that I am close to?” Father nodded and Vincent continued, ”Well before Catherine entered my life I had strong connections with other people from our community…you…Mary…Narcissa...Devin…” Vincent looked Father fully in the eye when he told him that he had been connected to his parent at some stage in the past. “Me?” Replied Father quite stunned. “I was not aware of that.”
Vincent grinned. “It was not something I wanted you to be aware of, but it helped on many occasions to hide from your wrath.” Both men chuckled and Father went on, “Generally I would say, when you and Devin were involved in some hideous adventure?”
Vincent grinned but did not agree, instead going on with his own narrative. “Well at such times I could ‘see’ in my mind’s eye what was happening to those that I cared deeply for, or feel what they were feeling.” Again both men grinned as each imagined Father on the warpath seeking his two rebellious sons.
“Those feelings, Father have decreased since Catherine has been in my life. I feel them still on some level but they are not as strong, or they weren’t until two days ago, and now I am feeling them so strongly again. But there is more. It is as if I am seeing through Devin’s eyes.”
“Devin? You say you are close to Devin? Is he in trouble?” Vincent shook his head. “No, Father there you go jumping to the wrong conclusion again.” He chuckled. “No rest assured Devin is not in any trouble, but something strange is happening around him. When I see Devin, Father, when I look through his eyes I see myself.” Vincent half chuckled at the impossibility of such a thing.
“You see yourself?” Father was losing track, or Vincent was losing his mind, a very serious and dangerous fact if it were true. Breathlessly, Father prompted, “Can you tell me anymore than that?”
“Yes, Father although it is all so strange, because when I ‘see’ what Devin sees, he and I are outside in the snow, and not just that, we are standing in a valley between mountains. The sky is white and heavily laden with snow and we don’t appear to be doing anything about that. We are staying put with no worries or seeking shelter.. It is so strange, Father, how can I be there and here at the same time? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“It might.” Answered Father. “If what you are seeing is not literally now, but a vision for the future.” Though Father shuddered at such a thought. Vincent in the mountains, in the snow! It was unthinkable and frightened him half to death. Yet it was the only possible explanation. His wild son Devin had thought up another foolhardy plan to rope his brother into, one that Father would never have expected. Devin would take Vincent from the safety of the tunnels and out into the big wide world where though they might appear in isolation was still a treacherous world to one such as Vincent.
“No.” Vincent told him. “Its not something for the future, its happening now, this minute. I feel it so strongly. I can see what Devin is seeing and I can feel the amazement he is feeling. He is just as astonished to find me there, Father as I am to see myself there.”
Father laughed. “But it’s impossible, preposterous, you are here, Vincent, with me now, not with your brother on some snow capped mountain. Surely you can see the sense in that?”
“Of course! Then what does it mean? That I can split myself? Can the dark side of me astral project? If so who is with whom? Which of my loved ones are in danger from that darker side of me!” Vincent cried anxiously. Father rose from his chair to cross to his son’s side and hug him fiercely. “Stop that, stop that, you hear! You’ll make yourself ill. Vincent, understand please that this out of body experience never occurs when you are conscious, you need to be in some form of trance or anaesthetised. You can’t be in two places at once. It’s impossible!”
“Then how else would you explain it…other than assume it is something future. For I tell you, Father, it is happening and it is happening now! This minute. Devin is with me. I can see me, Father. I can see me through his eyes!”
Father shook his head. “I have no answers, Vincent. Yet they must be out there somewhere. The only thing we can do is wait until Devin returns to ask him, and until then you must try to push those images to the back of your mind, or you will get no peace until Devin comes back to explain.”
“That’s what Catherine said.” Father felt a little thrill of comradeship and saw his daughter in law on a fresh level. So they were allies were they, she and he? When it came to Vincent, both of them knew the best way to make him see sense.
“Yet this is so real, just as it was real when Devin left us at the age of fourteen and you assumed he had fallen into the abyss. I knew then as I know now that Devin was alive and well and living life to the full. I am no more seeing things now than I was then, Father and I know what Devin is seeing, and I tell you he is seeing me!”
Father sighed raggedly, as reminders of that dreadful time resurfaced and left him pained at heart and Vincent still tuned into his parent’s feelings regretted what he had just said. “I’m so sorry, Father, that must have been an awful time for you. None of us knew what we know now, that Devin is your fleshly son yet you had deemed him dead into the abyss, lost forever. How deep your pain must have been to have to face such a thing. I’m so sorry, Father for reminding you of that.” Vincent hugged his parent tightly as if doing so could erase the memory of that tragic time.
“Yes. It was hard. I sent him away, you see? Believing he had hurt you, and I paid for that, Vincent with years of believing I had driven him to take his own life. I can tell you, Vincent that belief turned me into a haggard old man, put years on my life and I do believe brought on the arthritis faster than it might have occurred. I paid for my actions, Vincent over and over again, but I felt the punishment was justified. I deserved everything for what I had done to my son. I favoured you over him every time. I thought I was protecting you, and I never saw that in so doing I pushed Devin out of my life, and shut off the love that was naturally his. What an unhappy childhood Devin had because of me. Why he ever had the heart to return I do not know.” With tears bedimming his eyes, Father managed a wry smile as he added, “Yes I do. Of course I do, his love for you was as strong as my love for you. Devin could no more prevent himself from cutting you out of his life than I could. So it was all for you, Vincent, because of you, I lost my son and I found him again but…” Father paused and rubbed his hands up and down Vincent’s long arms. “I love you both dearly, you the adopted and he flesh of my flesh. I love you both the same, and I always did, you know? I always loved you both equally only I never let Devin know that and I should have, Vincent. I really should have.”
Vincent smiled ruefully. “It’s at times like these that Devin usually walks in through that entrance and says he overheard everything.” Vincent paused looking toward the entranceway, as if he expected his brother to do just that. Father did too, with hope in his eyes, a hope that soon evaporated as hestated sadly, ‘not this time Vincent, not this time.’
“Don’t worry, Father, you have made amends with Devin now, and he forgave you, and he loves you very much. You cannot erase what is done and true, we all know that Devin’s memories of being here are not ones he likes to remember, but he understands, and he accepts that you are sorry and he does not hold the past against you. In many respects he believes he learned from it, from your mistake, Father, he plans to be a more understanding parent himself when that day arrives. Know that your grandchildren will have in Devin a fine and caring father who will lavish love and attention on them.”
“If you are trying to make me feel better, Vincent, you should quit, because it’s not working. All I am seeing is the comparison and what I was not to Devin when he needed me the most. Thank you for trying, but please say no more on that particular subject for you are digging for yourself a very big hole.”
Vincent was happy to see Father smiling. He meant no malevolence toward him, was just trying to help his son see that no matter how he glossed over what had happened, Father would always blame himself for pushing Devin away when he should have been there for him and had not been so quick to judge and usually incorrectly when it came to things that had happened wherever Devin had been involved.
“What’s past is past.” Father sighed heavily. “Let’s leave it there.”
Vincent nodded, but had to say, “Even so, the comparison was, that just as back then when I knew Devin to be alive and well I know now that what is happening with him even as we discuss this. Devin is with me, yet I am here, so how can that be? And don’t start thinking that Devin must be a ghost and that is your answer, for its not so. For just as I knew Devin had not fallen into the abyss back then, I know for a certainty that he is not dead now. There has to be a logical explanation to this, Father, but I am just not finding it and it’s driving me crazy!”
“Then there is only one explanation.” Father began, though it seemed preposterous to even think it. “That if you are not with Devin, and its obvious that you are not, and you are seeing yourself with him, then it is not you that is there beside him, Vincent, it is someone that looks like you, which would answer the question why Devin is feeling so incredulous.”
Vincent laughed out loud. “That is preposterous, Father, someone like me? Why you are crazier than I am!”
Even so, Father did not share in Vincent’s laughter. He stood his ground and looked at his son. “Maybe so, but in the circumstances, it is the only answer I can offer. We’ve always imaged you to be the only one there is, but what if we were wrong? What if on his many and varied travels, Devin has encountered someone like you? It is possible, Vincent as impossible as it might seem, it could happen and I think that you should look more carefully into what you are seeing. Is it really yourself that is with Devin or is it someone that looks like you?”
Vincent shook his head laughing stiltedly. “You’ve been reading too many books, Father.” It was an age-old answer to many a crazy suggestion but even so an air of possibility hung ominously between them. Could it happen? Could it?
Vincent shook his head. ‘No. There had to be some other explanation.’ Even so while Father poured tea and left his son to ponder things Vincent wasn’t at all sure of anything anymore.

“Nah.” Devin roused himself onto his one good elbow and stared at the snow around him. There he was right beside the fir tree he had crashed into with no sign of campfires or ash, or footprints, or anything that would signify everything that had gone on was anything more than a dream. He laughed. “I wish,” he said aloud. “Even Vincent people would have been preferable to this!” A sob caught in his throat as he realised his predicament, but because the ‘dream’ had seemed so real he touched his broken arm just to reassure himself. Sure enough his arm lay at his side painful and broken just as he’d remembered.
He did however, feel better than he had when he had fallen asleep eons ago, however long that was, he felt rested and no longer hungry, but that he was still out there on Mount McKinley alone as before, smashed skis and smashed arm proved that everything he had thought had happened, his rescue and all, had been nothing more than a dream. “What an imagination, eh old boy.” He told himself jovially. “Vincent people! Fur ball is gonna love that one when I get to tell him.” Devin laughed loudly, but not so loud as to bring down an avalanche for he knew all about such dangers. Even so the sound of his laughter brought forth a muffled shout from the other side of a snowy crag and Devin’s heart sang! “Over here!” He called hoarsely. “I’m over here!” He had never been so glad to see the sight of another human being in all his life as one by one over the rise came his rescuers bundled in thick jackets of all colours but bearing the one same slogan across the front and back, ‘McKinley Rescue Team.’
“Boy, am I glad to see you!” Devin blurted as the first rescuer dropped to his knees at Devin’s side. “What took you so long?”
“Sorry about that. We’ve been searching the wrong west side.” Devin chuckled. “I’ve heard of women getting their left and right mixed up but never a rescue team not knowing their east from their west.”
“It wasn’t that.” The fellow told him, “We had the right side, but all searches turned up nothing, and it wasn’t until the recording of your message was played back that it was discovered that you had said ‘from you on the west side.’ That’s where the discrepancy came in. You thought you were talking to the McKinley rescue station, which is where we’re from, but in actuality your call had been redirected to the next station, and therefore they’ve been searching for you on the wrong side of the mountain for days. You seem in pretty good shape though I must admit for a guy that’s been out on the snow for five days and nights.”
“Five what!” Devin exclaimed. “But it only feels like a few hours.”
The men in the rescue team looked from one to the other. “You must have been out for the count, it was five days ago your emergency call was logged. The search has been on ever since. We thought you’d be dead by now.”
Bewildered, Devin found it hard to believe, even harder to imagine that he had remained in tact all that time, and no pack of wolves had been by to eat him. As if thinking along the same lines one of the team told him, “You’re one lucky fellow. There are no tracks to signify anything has been near or by you since you arrived at this spot, and no fresh snowfall either. Here, let me fasten this cable around you and we’ll soon have you airlifted out of here.”
There was no more time for talking as the team made sure their patient was safe with his arm splinted sufficiently to withstand the movement up into the helicopter that now hovered above him. Besides which the sound of the rotors prevented anything other than a shout and that was something that was to be avoided at all costs, it was a risk using the air ambulance some said, but it seemed that the slow dull approaching thud, thud of a helicopter did not do anything untoward to the snow laden heavily in the mountains whereas a sudden noise or shout might. Rebounding echoes could cause colossal damage to hundreds of homes and lives.
And there was hardly time for thinking as Devin was carried up and away from the mountains and airlifted to the nearest hospital where insufficient insurance on his part meant all he could afford was a few x-rays, his arm caste and a couple of days in hospital but Devin did not mind since his father was a doctor and any treatment he might need could be obtained at home in the tunnels where he was sure he would receive a warm welcome. However, first he would need to return to his hotel, pack up his things and book a flight back to New York, all of which would be after he had had time to sit and ponder at length all that had taken place out there on the mountain, or rather what he had thought had happened out there on the mountain.
When he thought about it long and hard enough he realised it had to have been a dream. And yet, had it not, then those people with the faces of a mountain lion knew how to conceal their tracks, to such a degree that no trace was left of them that might be followed. That indeed was possible since in thousands of years only a handful of people had stumbled upon them…no…not stumbled upon them…no one could stumble upon them they were too clever for that, but rather those people, the Vincent people would have rescued someone from a frozen death out on the snow and ice, mended them and set them on their way. Devin paused…and with heart beating rapidly he remembered one sure fire way to know for sure if he had dreamed it all. Did the Vincent people really exist…slowly, heart in his mouth he drew back the cuff of the sleeve covering his good arm by rubbing it along the covers of his bed. It was difficult, the cuff kept bouncing back to cover the area he so wanted to see, but bit by bit with patience Devin was able to keep the cuff from sliding back and from there he raised the arm to his face where with his teeth, he pulled the cuff even further down his arm…closed his eyes tightly and prepared himself to look at his wrist where soon all would be revealed…

Vincent woke with a start. He’d been dreaming, and for a few seconds he felt disorientated unsure of his surroundings, until he heard the soft even breathing of Catherine his wife snuggled at his side. He smiled, reached out a hand to brush a wayward lock of honey gold hair from her face and with a tender smile brushed his lips across her forehead where the hair had been.
Catherine murmured sleepily. “What time is it?”
“It is still night. Sleep angel. There’s no need to rise just yet.” He told her gently and watched her smile with deep satisfaction before asking, “Hold me, Vincent. I love being in your arms.”
Gladly, Vincent obliged he loved cuddling her close, but he could not sleep. The remnants of his dream flittered on the edge of his consciousness and he drew them out one by one analysing every detail. He had been standing on a mountain with Devin, snow covered and icily fresh and could remember taking a deep breath of the cold air and loving the very flavour of it on the back of his throat. And the sights, there were so many to see all at once, that he had not known where to look first, yet all around the same sparkling white dazzled every corner of his vision. Yet it was so beautiful, so, so very beautiful. And that’s when he had awoken, one moment he’d been out there on that mountain with his brother filling himself with the wonder and splendour of all God had given mankind, when suddenly instantly he had been propelled back to his home beneath the streets of New York City as far removed from the freedom and isolation of the mountains as could they be.
Sighing deeply, Vincent snuggled down beneath the covers with his sleeping Catherine. The dream made no sense. He had never been to the mountains and likely never would. Just because Catherine had made one dream come true it didn’t follow that others would be fulfilled also. Besides having Catherine more than made up for everything else he might have to forfeit.
He drifted, his mind and eyes growing heavier with every soft breath that Catherine uttered, until suddenly he was awake again his eyes glued to the chamber entrance where one solitary candle burned. He listened and watched the entrance expecting at any moment that someone should peer inside.
“Vincent?” A soft whisper enquired.
Relaxing, Vincent replied, “Father, what’s wrong?” Catherine stirred at the sound of her husband’s voice, something in his tone bringing a sense of urgency to her unconscious mind. “What is it, Vincent. Is someone sick?”
“No, Catherine, go back to sleep.” Father begged remorseful that he had woken her. “I just wish to speak with Vincent a moment.
“I’m awake now, and besides I need…” reluctant to say what she needed Catherine rose from the bed, missing her husband’s warmth in that instance and pulling a thick woollen robe around her body she headed for the ‘bathroom’ area and therefore showing what she needed without further explanation.
“I’m sorry, Vincent.” Father repeated in his daughter in law’s absence. “I really didn’t mean to wake her. And had you not been awake I would not have woken you either.”
“That’s alright, come sit by the brazier, the tunnels are cold even if you have only walked from your chamber to mine, I take it you have? You’ve not been in the hospital chamber have you?” Vincent asked with some alarm.
“No, no, all is well. I have just left my bed to come to you. I could not sleep. Vincent, it was what I said earlier, I had no right to place that upon you, no right to presume…”
“Father sit down, please, here let me put this rug around your legs.” Making sure his father was as warm as he could make him Vincent put a kettle on to boil for some tea, and was just stoking the brazier with more wood when Catherine returned and told him, “I’ll do that my love, you see to Father.”
“Thank you, Catherine.” Walking to where he could draw a chair alongside Father’s Vincent took up a seat next to his parent. “Now tell me what’s bothering you so.”
Father sighed. “Its what we discussed earlier. You know about Devin seeing someone like you?” This piqued Catherine’s interest. “Someone like Vincent?” She enquired breathlessly.
“May as be,” Vincent told her. “We don’t know for sure.” Catherine wandered to Vincent’s side and lay one hand on his shoulder searching Father’s eyes for more clues. Father sighed heavily. “I hate it when this happens. I’m sorry, Catherine, my dear but I suggested to Vincent that the dreams he has been having about Devin…”
“They are no dreams, Father.” Vincent interrupted.
“As you like, whatever, that is immaterial here for the moment, what is important is that I should never have suggested that Devin was perhaps in the company of people like you, Vincent. Its worried me ever since I mentioned that. I should never have said such a thing. We, none of us, know whether you are on your own in this world or if there are others like you, but the chances that Devin would stumble upon people like you when others clearly have not would be too remarkable to be possible. Vincent, please forget that I suggested such a thing.”
“If it would make you feel better, of course. Besides which I have found it hard to believe it myself.” Vincent told him with a grin. Father responded to that grin with of his own. “Thank you, Vincent.” He paused as he listened to the whistling of the boiling kettle and no one spoke as Catherine made tea for three, and no one said anything more until each were holding a steaming mug of tea in their hands. Only then Father admitted, “You weren’t the only one with ominous feelings about Devin. I too have had a foreboding feeling about him for days. I expect it was that as much as anything else that allowed me to create such a fictitious account as to what your dream might mean.”
Vincent was interested. “You have had feelings about Devin also?” Taking a sip of his tea Father nodded. His spectacles steamed up and he placed his mug on the table and wiped them clear before speaking again. “Yes, I do from time to time. Usually when Devin is thinking about home. Its like our wires meet and tingle in the middle.” Catherine smiled, Father was describing something that she had always experienced with Vincent and since becoming his wife it happened more than before. “Sounds like you are both empathic.” She told them.
“Whatever it is.” Father downed the last of his tea. “Thank you, my dear that was delicious. As I was saying whatever it is, it can be a blessing and a curse, and it is something that none of us have learned to control to better ourselves. I for one take it to the extreme. Whenever I have a feeling like this, I worry myself sick that it is an omen, and I act out of character or say things out of anxiety, when I ought not. Vincent, just forget that I suggested there were people like you, alright? Until Devin returns we will not know anything for sure, and that might not be for some time.”
“On the contrary,” Vincent told his father. “Devin is on his way home now as we speak, he should be here in a couple of days.” Startled, Vincent’s mouth dropped open as he only just realised the enormity of what he said. He stammered, “How I knew that I do not know. I certainly have not ‘seen’ it.” Father nodded. “Well by your capabilities in the past, I think its best that we expect his arrival two days from now and prepare the fatted calf. I for one, cannot wait to see him as I’m sure you can’t either?”
Vincent agreed. “For once my brother’s arrival is going to be met with more joy than that shown to the prodigal’s return, Father. With him he’s going to bring answers to questions that have plagued me for days. I can only hope that whatever answers he gives I can meet them logically and soundly, and that my dreams are wrong.” Both Catherine and Father looked to Vincent for explanation and he gave it to them slowly and stiltedly. “If my dreams are real…if they are to be believed…if your perception of them, Father were grounded…then I will leave this place…and return to my roots and perhaps never see you again…” He looked to where his wife was sitting. She gasped and cried out loud as he added, “and that goes for you too, Catherine…for if my dream is real…if it has foundation…then our dream…our own dream…will be no more. Please try to understand,” Vincent’s eyes were pained as he tried to explain. “As much as I love you both…if there are others to whom I belong, I must go to them. Its as simple as that.”

“Mr Wells, what are you doing?” Devin jumped and his eyes flew open to look not at his wrist, but rather at a pretty nurse in a blue and white striped uniform and he found the latter to be more entertaining. “Well, hello.” He spoke huskily. “I’ve not seen you before.” His brown eyes twinkled with interest.
“And you’ll not see me again, if you continue looking at me like that. Now what are you doing? We might have the heating on in here, but its not as warm as it ought to be, and you have just spent five days in the snow, and need to keep warm, and what do I find? You here stripping off your clothing and running the risk of catching a chill on top of what you’ve already got.” Without asking, the nurse carefully took Devin’s carefully manipulated sleeve and pulled it back down to cover his arm.
“In all due respects, madam…” Devin began as she tut-tutted around him checking his temperature by shoving a thermometer in his mouth making speech impossible though he tried…”I shall be…”
“Speak again and I’ll shove it elsewhere,” she warned him. Eyes wide and twinkling with merriment Devin stopped trying to speak and waited as she fussed around him tucking in his bedclothes until she was satisfied that no draught could get in and then removed the thermometer, “Just as I thought, your temperature is down. You, Mr Wells are too cold for your own good. Now I will sit just over there and keep an eye on you and if I see so much as a finger lift out from beneath these blankets, you will have me to answer to. Is that clear?”
Speechless, Devin nodded and the nurse smiled. “Besides,” she told him, “I know what you were going to say, you will be leaving tomorrow anyway. I know that, but until then while you are under my care you keep warm, okay? Is that understood?”
Again Devin nodded. The nurse moved away, chuckling so he could not see, if he only knew how damn cute he looked with his black hair and brown eyes just visible above the blankets…’I have another more interesting way of keeping you warm, Mr Wells…” she whispered to herself as she sat back behind her desk. “Unfortunately it would get me fired.”

Father could not get over Vincent’s revelation. “You can’t be serious! Vincent it’s just a dream.” He half laughed, a chuckle that gave way to incredulity.
“I don’t want to believe it either, Father.” Vincent spoke seriously. “But I am seldom wrong about such things. And face it, “ he looked from Catherine to Father and back again. “If there are really people out there like me, then they are family and they will want me back. How can I not go?”
“How can you go!” Catherine having regained her voice shrieked. “I’m your family now!” Her hand hovered over her midriff. “And…I didn’t want to say this…just yet…but…” Father eyed her hand shrewdly. “Catherine, my dear?” He asked with hope lighting his eyes. “What are you saying?”
“What?” Vincent looked from one to other of them. “What? Catherine?” His breath held fast and he sought her eyes. Eyes filled with hope and yearning, love and adoration and all she could do was answer him with those eyes and a slight nod of her head.
“You’re with child?” Father’s voice rose. “Really?” Joyful tears bedimmed his eyes and he rose to enfold her into his arms.
Chin wobbling tears streaming from her eyes Catherine nodded. “I…I think so, and Vincent…you can’t go…you can’t leave us…not now…not ever.”
“Catherine.” Bear hugging his wife and parent by enfolding the pair into his arms, he kissed her cheek tenderly. “I did not know…I’m sorry…I should have known.”
“No, you shouldn’t.” Catherine hiccupped through her tears. “I wasn’t sure, still aren’t sure. So how could you?”
“Well I can tell you for a certainty, my dear.” Father’s voice was muffled in Vincent’s embrace. “And of course it changes everything. No matter the outcome of your dreams, Vincent, you simply cannot leave us. Catherine’s right, here is where your family are. Those others for one reason or another forsook you and we are your family now. A visit maybe, though that would be a nightmare in itself, but you are not going to go away and leave us forever, my boy and that’s that.”
Torn, Vincent could no more make them understand than he could comprehend it himself. Naturally he didn’t want to leave the tunnels, not even for endless skies and snow capped mountains, but his dreams were seldom wrong, and he had a foreboding feeling that sometime soon, he would leave the tunnels and unless his fleshly family did not accept him back amongst them then he would not be returning.

When Devin opened his eyes the following morning it was to find the nurse from yesterday hovering by his bed. He grinned at her. “Don’t you ever go home?” He enquired softly.
“I do, and while you were sleeping I did, and here I am back again. But you, dear man are going home today and not coming back again. I hope.” She grinned back at him.
“Should I take it that you’d be glad to see the back of me?” He asked sadly. He hadn’t realised she disliked him that much.
She laughed. “Not at all. In fact I think you are a very attractive man, unfortunately I don’t think my fiancé would see it that way. No, what I mean is, after today I hope you will go on with your life and forget this fast living lifestyle that you have, so that you won’t go crashing into fir trees again at sixty miles an hour. You could have died you know? A broken arm was a small price to pay for such foolhardiness.”
“Now you sound like my father.” Devin groaned.
“Then it’s a pity you aren’t a chip off the old block. Your father sounds a very wise man.”
“He came out of the same mould as yourself.” At her raised eyebrow Devin went on, “He’s a doctor.”
“Oh, I see, around here? Don’t think I have heard of Dr Wells before.” She frowned while she considered the name and whether she had in fact heard of it on a prior occasion.
“No, I shouldn’t think so. He’s in New York, Manhattan, and he doesn’t practise these days, but he’s forgotten none of his skill. When I leave here, that’s where I’m headed, home to pops. He’ll soon have me fighting fit again.”
“Well just you remember to thank him, and stop taking him for granted. Next time make certain you have sufficient medical insurance when undertaking vacations such as this one. Unless of course you are taking my advice and steering clear of such sports in future?”
“We’ll see.” Devin told her. She smiled. He liked it when she did that, somehow her blue eyes reminded him of the sky and her blonde hair of the corn after harvest, he didn’t think she’d like being kin to a stubble field however, just because her hair was short and spiky, so he refrained from telling her that. She was pretty though, with an oval angelic face, and from what he could gather in her mid twenties. Just the right age for me, he decided, but then as she was already attached…hardly worth going into.
“Well,” she straightened as she completed her ministrations. “As soon as the doctor has seen you, you may pack up and go. I shall be on duty until this evening, if you want to say cheerio just come and find me will you? I won’t be far away.”
“Count on it.” Devin assured her. “And thanks for all you’ve done.” She smiled and turned to walk back to her desk aware that he watched her legs as she went.
She was wrong though, he watched not only her legs, but the swing of her hips, her tiny trim waist, the way she swung one arm at her side as she walked and held onto her notes and appliances with the other. He liked her, but she had to be another of those ones that got away. Maybe one day he’d find the right woman, he grimaced, he wasn’t ready to settle down by a long chalk, and he still had too much living to do before that.

The doctor arrived late afternoon, long after Devin had expected him to be round, and full of apologies, he hardly spared Devin five minutes before announcing that he was free to go. There were just the normal formalities of signing insurance forms and collecting his medication from pharmacy painkillers for his arm a note for his own doctor of when to remove the cast and that was that. Devin was able to leave. And despite his promise he did not track down the nurse, heading straight for the door to an awaiting taxi previously booked. However, just as he was tossing his bags inside with his one good arm he felt a tap on his shoulder and her cheery voice asking, “Thought you’d try to get out without saying goodbye, huh?” He didn’t know what to say, he didn’t even know why she had taken such a personal interest in him, but all was soon revealed.
“I couldn’t say anything in there,” she indicated toward the hospital with a nod, “But I couldn’t help noticing that you have one of these.” With her hand on his arm she steered Devin away from the taxi out of earshot of the driver and where the taxi driver could not see she pulled up her sleeve to reveal a stunning black wiggly line and Devin gasped, going to his own arm at once and with his teeth drew back his sleeve. “Here, let me help you.” She told him drawing the cuff far enough up his arm to reveal the same tattoo. Devin gasped. “I thought I’d imagined it all. That it was a dream.” The nurse laughed. “That’s the way they like you to think. Amazing people aren’t they? I thought I was going nuts at first when it happened to me. It wasn’t until my fiancé who is also a helper by the way, told me not long after we’d met that it had happened to him too and we had time to discuss it, that I knew it had really happened. So if you ever need someone to talk to, you can call me, okay? Look here’s my card, just call me, or my fiancé, his name is Paul, either of us will only be too happy to tell you what we know which isn’t a lot, but probably more than you know right now.”
“Thank you.” Devin took the card, noticing first her name. “Sarah Fox. Oh, you’re a Sister?”
“Yes, thought you would have realised that, seeing me give the other nurses their orders?” Devin shook his head. “No, actually I didn’t. So what does this make us?” he flicked the card before her eyes. “Brother and sister also?”
“If that’s what you want. I prefer to think of us as ‘Helpers of the Yeti.’
”The Yeti?” Devin exclaimed in amazement. “Is that what they are?”
“I confess I don’t actually know who they are, but every helper, every one that has witnessed something like this and received one of these, “ she indicated the tattoo, “believe these people to be the elusive abominable snowman and when you think about it, what else could they be?”
Devin shook his head. “I don’t buy it. What I know of the Yeti is that they have faces like apes or the Neanderthal man, not faces like mountain lions.”
“But who would know? Have you ever seen a close up photograph of a Yeti?” Devin shook his head. “No, neither have I or Paul, or any of the other helpers. Believe me, Mr Wells this is the only conclusion we have drawn. It all fits and they are worldwide, you know? There have been frequent sightings in the Himalayas a few in Alaska, other countries, you know how it is, and any photographs that are to be had look remarkably like our people do they not? You know, tall, muscular and well built. I tell you, Mr Wells this tattoo, it makes us helpers of the Yeti, and I for one am very proud of that fact.”
“Well I am too, but the Yeti? I find it hard to get my head around it that’s all. It’s like someone telling me that The Loch Ness monster actually exists, or there really are witches in Blair Wood. It’s just so…unbelievable, and if you knew what I knew you would know what that means to me. I can’t tell you though, sorry.”
“That’s alright. None of us tell each other explicitly of what we’ve seen. They do ask us after all that we mention it to no one, but from time to time we get together at gatherings, little groups of us and talk about how we might help them. After all, their habitat is fast disappearing, and discovery is imminent. They can’t continue to hide, Mr Wells not like they have remained hidden for thousands of years, too many people are encroaching on their land and there is too much of the kind of sports we love, and yes, I know I’m guilty of it too. How else would I have met them? But for such sports entering onto their domain they might remain unknown for thousands of more years, but I think, and this view is widely held by other helpers, that soon they are going to be discovered. I’ve only ever seen the men folk, and few helpers have seen any children or women, and so far their particular whereabouts has never been discovered, but it won’t go on forever, it can’t. We believe that these people live in the caves and tunnels within the mountains, and here we see extreme sport fanatics exploring caves and chambers, skiing and snowboarding the mountainside, and the Yeti are going to be discovered, Mr Wells. We’re sure of it.”
“Call me Devin. You’re possibly right. But what can you do?”
“Thank you. We Devin, we, you’re one of us now. There is just one thought circulating among us. One guy worked on a database of helpers and logged names from around the world, and he’s working on an idea that just might help these people. I can’t say more than that just now, Devin, but use that number, okay? Call me, and when I know what’s happening I’ll update you. Are you with us?”
Devin nodded. “Count me in. I have more at stake here than meets the eye, but like I said…” He shrugged and Sarah added, “You can’t elaborate. Don’t worry. I understand.”
Devin knew she didn’t, he was thinking about Vincent and there was no way she could understand what he meant.
“Give me a ring this time next week, okay? Evenings after eight, I’ll update you on the progress then, but know this, Devin what we are trying to achieve here, it isn’t just to help a handful of Yeti, but rather the whole damned nation of them. We aim to introduce them to the world and help them master a common language that will benefit everyone.”
Devin worried about that. All his life he’d kept his brother’s identity a secret, and now this woman and her friends, the so-called helpers of the Yeti were about to blow their cover because they thought it for the best? Devin wondered what the Yeti would think to that idea, and more importantly what Vincent would think to it. After all, if the Yeti were about to be exposed then there was no reason why Vincent shouldn’t join them. No reason at all. Even so Devin was well aware that there was every reason why it should not be so and he was in quite a quandary as to what to do or think for the best. For now though Sarah was looking at him appealingly and awaiting his reply and he told her, “I call you.” He promised. “A week from today.”
“Thanks, Devin. I knew I could count on you to join us.”
Devin just nodded and settled himself into the back seat of the taxi, he was eager to be gone. Home never seemed so far away than it did at that moment and he was eager to be there, but telling Vincent? Devin wasn’t at all sure about that. And until he knew more he might just decide to keep that particular piece of news, as difficult as it might be to keep anything from Vincent, entirely to himself.

To be continued in chapter four.