---

When Paul awoke, he was just above the tree line and sitting in a scramble of rocks. He was surrounded by mountains. The air was bluish-white and crisp and smelled clean. He could hear it move. When he looked down, he saw the town of Chandelier, Idaho snuggled up in the valley floor miles away.  A soft wind blew, and he heard the whispers of something else. He got up and some rocks shifted. He listened to the sound of them clicking together, small and rapid taps of stone on stone letting loose and sliding.

He breathed the air deeply. He turned around and studied the rocky peak behind him; massive slabs of stone crafted by Earth and time, a few patches of snow clung to the mountain here and there. He returned his gaze to the town below. It would be a long walk. “Or I could just fly,” he said aloud. It was fine if he talked to himself. No one was there. But then he wondered if any of it was real after all. As in, was this the real part of his life right now, or just a sliver, a glimpse, a fictional account. What about his visit to Sarrah? What happened? What led him astray? How did he get here? It was some sort of sudden displacement. He couldn’t rely on his memory at that moment.

Paul decided to make his way down the mountainside. It was getting cold. He slid at a side angle until he came into the cover of the trees, the forest, the canopy of deep pine green that smelled like true life. He picked up a path near a stream; it was a soothing sound of water flowing over smooth stones as he walked. He followed it until he came to the base of the mountain and one lonely dirt road. This he followed to a lonely highway which led to a less lonely highway which in turn brought him to town with the scatterings of traffic.

He went into an old western coffee shop on the edge of town. He sat in a booth near a window. He wasn’t even tired. He could walk for miles and miles if he wanted to. It just took time. Then he suddenly thought of Josiah. What had become of him, he wondered. He had to find this stray, he thought.

---

Bergen Baystone the State Farm guy snuck up on her quietly as she sat on the bench near the fountain in the park scrolling through her phone and severing a banana with her teeth. Something she read must have been funny because she smiled and laughed to herself.

Bergen became the bushes, the leaves, the limbs, and his eyes danced all over that Beverly from accounting. He wanted to jump out and yell “surprise!” Something broken inside him wanted to drop his tan pants in front of her, out in public, during the day. That would embarrass her, and that would be no way to gain her favor, he decided.

He thought she looked beautiful, just sitting there and full of breathing, beating life. The hand he was using to hold the bag of Chinese food shook. The bag made noise. Beverly stopped what she was doing and looked around.

He had no choice now. Bergen bounded out to reveal himself. “Surprise!” he yelled. He did not drop his pants, though.

Beverly was shocked and lost her drink. “God damn it!” she cried out. “Look what you did. What the hell are you doing here, Bergen?”

“I was out hiking in the park, and I just happened to see you.”

“You mean you were creeping around in the bushes watching me.”

“Yes,” he confessed. “I suppose I was being a bit of a Peeping Bergen.”

Beverly shook her head and started to pack up her things in a furious state. “You’re so fucking weird.”

“Where are you going?” Bergen wanted to know.

“Seriously? Do you think I want to stay here with you?”

“I was going to eat my lunch. Care for a crab Rangoon and some witty banter?”

“A what?”

“A crab Rangoon.”

“No. And besides, you’re the goon.” She stood up to leave.

Bergen stepped in front of her. “Wait.”

Beverly tried to step around him. “Get out of my way before I start yelling for help.”

“Please don’t do that. I just want to spend some time with you.”

“No! How many times do I have to tell you ‘no!’”

Bergen Baystone grabbed her arm. “Don’t treat me this way. I don’t deserve this. Show some respect.”

“Respect?” Beverly yanked her arm away. “If you ever touch me again, I’m going to break your jaw.” She aggressively walked away and headed back to the office.

Bergen resigned himself to sitting on the bench and eating his crab Rangoon dipped in sweet and sour sauce all by himself. But now he was worried. He had gone too far with grabbing her arm like that. She was going to report him. He couldn’t allow that. He couldn’t lose his prestigious position at State Farm. He jumped up, spilling his food everywhere and ran after her.

---

The cerulean rabbit drove without saying a single word. His paw-hand reached for the stereo, and he turned on some music. Classic 80s rock. He strangely moved his head to the beat of the music.

Josiah looked at him with wide eyes as he clung to the door gathering the courage to say something. “Where are we going?” he managed to get out. He winced, expecting a slap.

The rabbit turned to look at him, then back to straight ahead at the road. “The farm,” he said in that low, slow, warbled voice. “I’m taking you home.”

“Is that a costume?” Josiah asked.

The rabbit laughed. “A costume?… Do you seriously think I am not real?”

“Yes.”

The rabbit laughed again. “Touch me.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Touch me!”

Josiah reached out his hand and put it on the rabbit’s arm.

“See. It’s not a costume. Can you feel the muscle and bone beneath this cerulean fur? Can you feel the warmth of my blood flowing?”

Josiah jerked his hand away. “I want to get out.”

The rabbit stomped on the gas pedal and the car jerked forward. “Not until we get to the farm.”

“And then what?”

“You do as Paul told you.”

“Are you part of Paul?” Josiah asked. “I know there is something different about him. Are you another dimension of Paul?”

The rabbit tuned to look at Josiah and grinned. “Perhaps we are all just another dimension of you, Josiah Peppercorn. Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, you are a very sick man?”

“What do you mean?”

“Think about it. I was the one who punched her.”

“Who?”

“You’re wife… I punched her. Repeatedly. In the hospital. But then again, maybe it was you. You’d already beat her at the house, or maybe that was me. We could be the very same thing; it’s just that now I’ve gotten out of you, and I am running around loose.”

“You’re confusing me.”

“You’re confusing yourself.”

They finally took the last turn and rumbled up the long drive at the farmstead. When they stopped, the rabbit got out and went around and removed Josiah from the car. He led him to the barn and threw him inside. “Enjoy your new life,” the cerulean rabbit said to him. “As I do the same.”

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