Stop Winking at Me

Alora and Bob want me to volunteer, although for entirely different reasons. Heck, even Grinfo and Freena think it's a fantastic idea. Why am I the only sane person around here? Everyone knows it's a bad idea to volunteer to be a sacrifice.

Alora believes it's the only way for us to obtain the dylanium inside the Ladder God's stormy abode. And I agree we need it. We're not flying off this rock without dylanium. My dispute is whether this is the only way.

Bob believes I'm a god because I can say Bob - it's a long story. Anyway, he thinks I would have a great time reconnecting with my homies. Plus, he hopes I'll come back and tell him about it.

Grinfo is puzzling. I'm not sure if he wants to see me honored or if he's sadistic and wants to see what will happen.

Freena is a believer. She honestly sees it as a great honor. She'd volunteer if the gods allowed women to be a sacrifice.

After everyone quit trying to persuade me, I had some time to think. What if the unmoving storm cloud isn't a ship using a chameleon shield? What if the Ladder God is some monster that loves to eat ladder-climbing idiots? Or what if it's a hostile race that loves to shoot ladder-climbing idiots? There's no way of knowing until I climb and find out.

Or is there? Bob met the gods. Could he shed some light on them?

I found Bob sweeping his room. He stopped and asked, "What's on your mind?"

"Am I that obvious?" I said.

Bob motioned for me to take a seat. "You wear your emotions like I wear this robe. It doesn't take a shaman to see that you are wrestling with a decision."

"Alora told you I was coming? Didn't she?"

Bob hit his forehead, "I forgot you're a god."

"Speaking of gods. You said one of them gave you your name. Do you remember what he looked like?"

"You know better than I do. You are one." Bob laughed.

"There are many types of gods. Would you say the god you saw looked similar to me?"

"Yes. Very similar, except for his clothing. I've never seen anything like it."

At least I know the Ladder God isn't a monster. I still don't know if they'll want me climbing their ladder, but I bet good money they won't eat me. Of course, they might shoot me.

"When did this god arrive?" I asked, trying to get a better understanding of who I might meet up there.

"The cloud showed up over fifteen years ago. At that time, I was studying Kull Toon, a god who demanded a blood sacrifice. I really didn't want to plunge a knife into people, but I wanted to be a Shaman. There's always something you won't like about a job."

"But when the Ladder God showed up, we all decided to worship him instead. Once I graduated, I quickly advanced in the ranks and became a Shaman. Now all I have to do is escort the sacrifice to the ladder - no knife plunging."

"What happens to the sacrifice?"

"I'm not sure. I like to think they are having a good time, but I suppose the gods could have killed them. They do love to do that. But hey, at least I don't have to."

"What if I volunteered? Would you escort me?"

"Whoa, whoa. It's not that easy. You must compete for the honor. Only the most worthy will ascend the ladder."

Bob went on describing the Pick-a-Sacrifice tournament and the challenges I'd face. Only seventy-seven hopefuls could compete each year. My ears perked up. The more he described the obstacles, the more at ease I became. My chances of making it into the group of seventy-seven looked unlikely. This tournament wasn't made for galactic surveyors. The way I see it, I really don't stand a chance.

Bob could see me relax. "Your emotions betray you. I can see you think you've already won. Well, I can't say anything. You are a god after all, so this must seem like child's play to you."

"You caught me, Bob. Where do I sign up?"

Bob took me through the ritual to put my name into the hat, which involved goat's milk, spiderwebs, and chocolate. I won't go into details, but I'll say that these people eat some unusual things. After entering, I was sent back to my room to meditate.

Alora found me in my room.

"So, you entered. Good. Now, I hope you're selected. How are the seventy-seven chosen? Did Bob say?"

"He didn't say anything, but he winked at me a lot while I was going through the ritual."

"Maybe that was part of the ritual, or maybe it was Bob being Bob."

"He is a bit odd, but I feel like he was trying to communicate." I shook my head. "I don't know, maybe you're right."

"Well, it doesn't matter. You either will or you won't. If you don't, we need to figure out how to obtain the dylanium some other way. Do you have any ideas?"

I shook my head.

"Then let's hope you get picked."

At sunrise, I walked out into the temple grounds, like Grinfo instructed me. When I arrived, I found hundreds already there. I smiled secretly inside. There was no way I'd make it.

The temple doors opened, and the Shaman walked out. The crowd bowed. I caught myself in the nick of time and joined them.

Grinfo walked out behind the Shaman, holding a scroll. He opened it and began to read.

"The great Shaman in his holy wisdom has selected the Seventy-seven."

I groaned inside. Bob is the judge? His winking came to mind.

"When I read your name, stand under the Righteous Tree and wait for further instructions. If I don't read your name, please exit the temple grounds. Perhaps you'll do better next year."

Grinfo read, and I tensed with each name called out.

Why did he wink at me? The question circled in my mind.

"Drew Williams!" Grinfo said with a smile.

That's why he winked at me.

I walked under the Righteous Tree, wishing he hadn't winked at me. I've got a bad feeling about this. But I still have seventy-six chances of not making it, as long as Bob stays out of it. Now, what are the chances of that?