Paul Bunyan kneels on the wooden floor of the town’s abandoned courthouse. He grips a hammer firmly in both hand and pulls upward on one of the floorboards. The board comes up without much effort on his part. A sly grin erupts onto Paul’s sweat-sheened face.
“First water engines...And now, an energy transporter? Humph! Where does this spaceman get his crazy ideas? Next, he'll want me to gather wood to build him a whole new rocketship. Although, that isn't a bad idea," Paul mutters with a small chuckle.
Completely loosening the board, Paul tosses it onto his growing pile of wood. Just as suddenly as his bright humor emerged, it is doused by a cloud of gloom.He glances around the empty courtroom with an expression of disdain.
In all of his visits to this land of limbo, Paul has never happened upon this particular town. It’s as if the town materialized out of nowhere. Not to mention, something about the construction of the buildings just doesn’t seem quite right. The angles of the walls and ceilings, the height and scale of the buildings, and the materials used. Some of the buildings appear completely out of place—as if they were constructed without much forethought. Not too hard to believe, considering the environment. But something keeps tugging at Paul’s consciousness. Everything about this place feels very wrong. It no longer feels like home. It feels as if it has been invaded by a foreign entity.
And what of Calamity Jane? Why has she not returned? The Englishman had stated she always returned like clockwork. Why did Jane appear to the spaceman in a different form? Why is she here at all? For that matter, why is the English gentleman here? What is his purpose? Where did he come from? What does any of this mean?”
Paul is so distracted by his musing that he pulls too roughly on the next board. The board splinters with a loud crack, a large piece of wood stabbing Paul through the center of his right hand.
Paul Bunyan stares at the injured hand with fascination, as if seeing it for the first time. He yanks the piece of wood from his hand and tosses it aside. After a moment, a distant look clouds his face, and he nods his head solemnly. Things are finally starting to make a bit of sense.
Success
“Ready?” Simone cries.
Simone is positioned at the top of the scaffolding. Her right hand rests on the lever which will start the water flowing towards the blades of the turbine.
Crank simply nods. With a smile, Simone pulls the lever down. A metal partition, holding back the hundreds of gallons of water, rises into the air. Water flows rapidly down the incline. As the water hits the blades, they begin to spin. Faster and faster. The water continues to flow through a moat and then back toward the base of the water tower. There, the water returns to its source. Only to be drawn up into the pump and sent down the incline again.
Simone claps both hands. A wide smile explodes onto her face and Crank witnesses a flash of her flat, ooman teeth. She is just as pleased as he is that the first stage of the energy generator has gone off without a hitch.
Simone carefully climbs down from the scaffold and crosses to Crank. She lets out a loud laugh and opens her arms wide. Crank pulls her in close. His heart soars with joy. Maybe, just maybe, things will start looking up from now on.
“It works,” Simone exclaims with a minor hint of disbelief. “Ha. It actually works."
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“Yes,” Crank replies, mandibles stretching the faux flesh of his disguise almost impossibly. His human version of a smile. “However, converting the energy generated...For use in the energy transporter...Will be a lot more complicated. I am still in need of a great many parts. And a lot more metal. It may take some time to construct.”
Simone presses her lips against the flesh of Crank’s forehead and runs a hand through his beaded braids. She only separates to whisper words of reassurance.
“Time…Is something we seem to have in abundance,” Simone whispers into the afternoon air. “It can be done. I have faith in you.”
Crank reluctantly releases Simone and peers down into her hazel eyes.
“Why should you?” Crank asks, his eyes watching Simone’s for any sign of deception.
Simone appears genuinely surprised by the question. Her brow creases, and the corner of her mouth twists into a frown.
“Why should I...What?” Simone counters.
Crank cups the right side of Simone’s face and it is her turn to study him.
“Why should you have faith in me?” Crank replies. “I have given you no reason to have such faith. Are we not still trapped here…In this prison world? For all of my technology...All of my knowledge and skill…I still cannot figure out how to get us back to our world. I have so little to work with here. I have no idea how to get us back.”
Simone’s mouth turns downward and she shakes her head solemnly. She hates to see Crank like this. Always blaming himself. If not for her, he might not even be in this horrible place. Certainly, if he were not concerned for her safety; he might have found a way out already.
“I have faith in you…Because you never give up,” Simone says. “You always find a way to make things run smoothly. Even if it means sacrificing a piece of yourself. We…Oomans…We’re not real good at that. At least, not individually. As a collective...Maybe. Stick one of us on a deserted island alone…And we’ll start talking to soccer balls or scratching HELP in the sand. Instead of figuring out a way off that island. Too scared of the make-believe sharks that will tear us apart…Than the very real danger of going mad…Or worse. Not very many people can think on their feet. Or handle immense pressure. I’ve seen you do that time and again. I have every reason to have faith in you, Crank. I have faith that if it can be done…You’ll find a way.”
Crank’s eyes narrow and he lowers his head so that their foreheads are touching. Simone breathes in deeply. She can sense that Crank's worries have not been assuaged.
“I am yautja. You are ooman,” Crank says. “How do you know what I say is true? That you are not being deceived?”
Simone bites her lower lip and peers at Crank with narrowed eyes. Hearing her own prior logic used in an argument puts everything into perspective.
“I don’t,” Simone says candidly. “I simply have to trust my instincts. Such as they are.”
Crank’s mouth works, and Simone can tell that he is mauling over what she has said. She touches the side of his mouth, silently reminding him not to test the limits of his human disguise.
“Don’t think so much, Crank,” Simone says with a chuckle. “We need your brilliant mind put to better use on other things. It’s getting late. We should eat something. Come on.”
Taking Crank’s hand, Simone leads him back to the farmhouse. Neither of them notices Paul Bunyan as he returns from his errands. Paul’s eyes narrow as Crank slides an arm around Simone’s waist. Patting Babe on her side, Paul follows the ox as she pulls the chained boards through the square.
The goat travels behind Paul and Babe at a lively trot. However, it breaks off from the pair to follow Simone and Crank. Paul watches the goat go with a crooked eyebrow. Relieved, Paul goes about his business.
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Elsewhere...Near the Diner
A red sports car is being hoisted up on a crane. Heavy rain pelts everyone and pings off of the metal of the mangled car. There isn't a person in sight who is not wearing a yellow slicker or hunkering under an umbrella.
A woman state trooper finishes taking information from the couple which reported the car in the ditch. She thanks them and then heads for the ditch. Standing several yards back, she watches the workers do their job. Another trooper comes to stand beside her.
"Still no sign of the car's owner," the trooper says to his female counterpart. "We got word he's one of the four who held up that gas station about three miles from here. Doesn't look like they crashed into anything. Other than the ditch. But there's blood...Everywhere. I can't make sense of it, Becca."
Trooper Rebecca Harding gazes askance at her fellow trooper.
"Neither can I, Matt. This one has me stumped," Becca replies with a solemn head shake.