# Strange Rock



## peterpan2k (Jul 7, 2009)

Does anyone like sci-fi stories? 

Perhaps nobody will even read this when they see it will take more than a minute to finish, but if anyone does read it, please let me know if you would like to read part 2.

Hugs and O

Steve


Strange Rock (Part 1)​


Prologue – 

Dirt on my boots, sun on my back, and fresh mountain air are the three ingredients of happiness. Shelley and I like hunting together. She is the love of my life, my companion. Shelley knows what I think before I even say it, and she is always the first one to sink her teeth into some fresh meat, because she doesn’t like it cooked. Shelley is an eight-year-old German shorthaired pointer. 

Her sincere eyes show much wisdom, more than her owner’s does. Her big flapping ears combined with her groans and grunts are a one-hundred percent effective way of communication. We like having long talks before bed, as I smoke my cigar and she chews on her bones. 

My Ruger M77 is the best rifle a hunter can get, if they know what they are doing. It has been the final bit of bad news to many elk, moose, and the occasional plaguing deer. No amount of TV-watching could ever make me more relaxed than taking it apart and giving a good clean, then putting it back together, giving it a kiss good night, and hanging it as a trophy in my living room. 

This is my territory around here. It has been since my father died. Well, at least half of it became mine. The other half, the one with all the cattle and the farmhouse, is my brother’s. Good for him ... that sack of excrement with an attitude needs something to massage his ego. 



Life was good until three months ago. Now I just want to die, even though Alistair says what happened to me is a blessing. I am still waiting to see...

Part 1 – 

The vision of the mountain was a breath-taker, even after seeing it all my life. It stood there alone, against the blue of the sky. Trees surrounded its foot. Red, orange, yellow, light green and brown were the colors that time of year. The beauty of this place, combined with fresh air and silence, is soothing to the soul … even Shelley knows to appreciate it. 

By ten a.m., Shelley and I grew hungry. The gear remained by the truck about a mile and a half away, but I still had a knife, some salt and a few matches. There was only one thing missing for lunch. 



“Come on girl, get them sniffers of yours working.” Shelley knew what we were looking for. She was on it. 

Another twenty minutes walk northwest, to the left side of the mountain, and we reached a shallow stream. Shelley and I lowered ourselves down at the same time, touching our lips to the deliciously cold snow water. It was then that I saw it. 

There are rocks of all sizes spread over its bed. They are your stepping-stones when you do not want to get your boots wet. A rock there did not look anything like the others. When I lowered down to drink, it stared right at my face. It was brown, thick and looked to have been melted by fire. I picked it up and found it to be much lighter than I thought. As I examined it, Shelley finally sniffed something. 

I threw the rock down and cocked my rifle ready to follow her lead. I always look back before leaving a place, in case I dropped something. The rock I had in my hands parted in half. There was something shiny in its core. I took a second glimpse and whistled Shelley to come back. 

Looking at it closer, it looked a lot like gold. What else could it be, inside a rock, in a stream in the middle of nowhere?

“It’s beans and crackers for lunch today, girl, at least until we get back home,” I told Shelley. 

Back at the ranch, the pieces of rock broke off easily. They were light and soft. I could clean off the rest of the crust that surrounded the egg. That is what the shining golden core of that rock looked liked, an egg. 

I picked up a screwdriver, and poured some water in a bowl. It was finally looking less dirty, more valuable. I was not going to sell it; I do not need the money. Nevertheless, it sure was nice to have found it. 

Holding the egg firmly with my left hand and working the screwdriver through its clefts, it started to look good. It was getting late; Shelley was hungry. “Just a second, sweetheart, I’ll get ya that big juicy steak.” Shelley turned her head slightly in disagreement.

A sting … the shock was stronger than the pain. The screwdriver broke straight through the egg and into the flesh of my left hand. I looked down and saw the blood dripping. A dark golden powder came out of the egg. It was hard to make out what was happening. 

The powder did not pour out; it fled from the holes the screwdriver made as it breached through. It floated in the air and gathered around the top and palm of my hand, where I hurt it. I threw the damn thing on the floor and tried to attend to my injury, but somehow, the golden powder kept on coming up and resting on my hand and lower arm. 

The egg flew straight out of the window with my angry kick, and Shelley almost rushed to fetch it. 



“Stay!” I never talk to my dog that way, but it could be dangerous. 



I was angry and perplexed at the same time. “What the devil kind of thing was that?” 



Another look at my bleeding hand and that powder from hell had simply vanished. _It must have evaporated_, I thought. The veins of my hand started to thicken and move like little snakes in frenzy. I fell sick and vomited on the floor. Shelley barked nervously; she was worried. 

The world darkened, my vision was gone. My heart was beating loud and violently. Thoughts of death flooded my mind. The only thing I worried about though, in the terror of the moment, was my dog. Who was going to take care of her? 



“Shelley, come here, girl. Come here.” I heard her groan as she approached. 



Shelley was the only friend I had in the darkest time of my life. Her warm skin touched my arm and I hugged her. Then it hit me. “Shelley, go away now!” I must have screamed at her for the first time in her life. It broke my heart. Whatever it was that I had, I did not want Shelley to get it.


----------

