A Vision of Fire

“Well, I’d like to be cautious about interpretation but I doubt the proximity is accidental. This shows up in ancient China as yin-yang, with the sky being the ‘fire’ force and earth being a ‘water’ force. But in this language, the superlative for ‘fire’ also appears very near what I think are the words for ‘arm’ and ‘pain.’ So maybe…?” He urgently patted his forearms as if he were putting out flames.

“God, yes!” Caitlin exclaimed when it had soaked in. “If burning sparks were falling on my arms and wouldn’t go out, burning deeper into my flesh, I might try to scratch them away, like Maanik. All right, so in the broadest of terms, what kind of causes do we have for fire in the sky? Either it was manufactured means—firebombing or a burning building—or there was a natural cause. Lightning? A volcano? A meteor?”

“All of that is possible,” Ben said. He repeated another gesture they had seen in the videos: pointing his left hand away from him at an angle while crossing his body with his right hand. At the same time he said, “ ‘Ogrusse.’ That seems to be the superlative for ‘water,’ meaning ‘the biggest water,’ and it appears very near the word for ‘sky’ too.”

“You mean they’re interchangeable? ‘Sky’ and ‘water’? Because they’re blue?”

“I don’t think that’s it,” he said. “I took it to mean water that touches the sky.”

“Like a tsunami?”

“Again, still guesswork, but that’s a possibility.”

Caitlin thought back to Phuket. “You’d have to be sitting on the beach to see it quite like that, rolling in from the horizon.”

“If we’re talking about recent tsunamis, yeah. But what if this is a mega?” He extended his arms as if he were holding a barrel. “One big mother?”

“How big are we talking?” she asked.

“In living memory?” Ben replied. “Lituya Bay, Alaska, July 9, 1958. An 8.3-magnitude earthquake along the Fairweather Fault caused a landslide that pushed a hundred million cubic feet of earth and glacier into the narrow inlet of the bay. The result was a wave that rose 1,720 feet. That’s the tallest mega-tsunami of modern times, and I stress ‘modern times.’ There’s a whole lot of history that happened before we started keeping records.”

“Apparently,” Caitlin said. She shook her head, not quite able to process all of this. Partly from gratitude, partly for comfort, she hugged her companion. “Thank you, Ben. I have no way to say it enough, thank you.”

“Thurstillalotlfttoworkt,” he said into her collar.

They laughed at his muffled voice and she pulled back.

“There’s still a lot left to work out,” he repeated. “I was hoping you would bring back a video or something with more language from Haiti, but it doesn’t sound like you had a chance?”

Caitlin deflated. “No. I brought back stuff but I don’t know what it was.”

“More writing?”

“No,” she said.

“Caitlin?”

“The Vodou vision I had there, and then the nightmare on the plane. When I was hit with—with whatever it was, I felt heat, I saw fire.”

“Power of suggestion?”

“Well, sure, maybe. But from whom? The madame and her son didn’t say anything about fire. I mean, I was choking on sulfur, Ben. What would do that except a volcano?”

“But you weren’t around a volcano then. Or ever, were you?”

“I was around a caldera, once, in Southern California.”

“Right, dormant for how many thousands of years? How about incense, was there any of that in Haiti? Anything that could have suggested that smell?”

She shook her head.

Ben took a deep breath. “So, a volcano. How? Where?”

“What about when?”

“No.” Ben shook his head. “Not buying where you’re going.”

“Honestly, I don’t know where I’m going but stay with me. We know that both of these girls experienced something—nightmares, visions, hallucinations, whatever you want to call them. And we know that they didn’t experience these things at any other time in their short lives. All they seem to share, what stands out, is that both have a parent or stepparent—in any case, a close adult figure—who recently experienced a near-death incident.”

“And the suicidal boy in Iran that you mentioned, didn’t he have a relative who just died?”

“Yes, a brother who was executed. So these physio-visual-linguistic reactions are being triggered by family trauma, even if there is no direct bloodline.”

“Which tells you what?” Ben asked. “Other than some kind of post-traumatic stress being a possible trigger. Where’s the physical volcano? Where’s the water that touches the sky? You’re saying you all experienced some part of that. Where?”

“That’s just it,” Caitlin said. “I don’t know.”

“What else could it be, then? Genetic imprinting? Vodou? Aliens?” Ben said.

Caitlin slumped. She thought for a moment, then shook her head slowly. “Yeah, I’m not there either,” she said. Then she started to get excited again. “But hold on. You just said genetic imprinting. What if it’s something similar? Jung talked about genetic imprinting—feelings, ideas that were passed down from our ancestors. Maybe these three family bonds are creating a portal into that collective unconscious.”