I know I said this was going to be a two-parter. Turns out, THREE PARTER! This middle part is totally Back To The Future II in that it’s definitely a bridge from last week to next week. But, hey, there’s a homage to Keanu Reeves and woke sasquatches! 

How’d we get here? Here’s a Link to Part 1

Jason opened his eyes and saw nothing but white. Then the white resolved into a texture. Then he realized his head was tipped back and he was staring at an acoustic ceiling. He tracked his vision across the ceiling to where it met the ugliest goldenrod-colored wallpaper with gold filigree. He followed the filigree down to the gray and black bouffant of a woman sitting across an avocado green Bakelite table.

“He’s alive!” she said with mock dramatics and a thick Long Island accent.

Jason stared, taking in the scene in front of him, and said nothing.

“What? You’ve got nothing to say?” she prompted.

“I… I’m confused…”

“That’s it? ‘I’m confused,’” she mocked. “No, ‘Oh, Bubbe, it’s been so long! I missed you!’? Just ‘I’m confused?’ Oy!”

“Where am I?”

“Where do you think you are? You’re at Bubbe’s house in Mineola, of course! You didn’t hit your head, did you? It doesn’t look like you hit your head…”

“I don’t know where that is.”

“Oh, come on, Jeremy!”

“I’m Jason.”

“Jeremy.”

“Jason.”

“Jeremy.”

“Jason.”

“Jeremy, this isn’t funny, anymore,” she said with annoyance in her voice.

“It’s Jason,” he said, standing up. “My name is Jason. I have no idea where I am! I was on 101 in Northern California, my girlfriend disappeared, and there was a bright light. Now I’m here. Where the hell is here?!” he yelled at the old woman.

She nodded patiently. “Okay, okay. Sit, sit, Jer—Jason. Sit down.”

Jason looked at her suspiciously, then sat down in the green upholstered chair.

“Sometimes we encounter things in life that are too traumatic, and our brains take us to a comfortable memory to help us cope,” she said in a soothing voice.

“This isn’t my memory.”

“I’m realizing that…” she said, rolling her eyes. “You’re sure you’re not Jeremy?”

“I’m not Jeremy. I’ve never been to Mineola, and I don’t have a Bubbe.”

“Everyone has a Bubbe.”

“Okay, technically – what is that, grandmother? Yes, a grandmother. I have one. Two! I have two.”

“Now you’re going to tell me you’re not even Jewish!”

“I’m not! I’m barely Catholic.”

“Oy vey!”

“Look, apparently my subconscious has managed to dick-up a soothing place, but what’s going on here?

“What do you last remember?”

“Like I told you, I remember a bright light again. Michelle was gone. Wait,” he thought back and his hand reflexively went to his stomach. “I had a searing pain in my stomach. And then the light. And… Where are we? I need to get back.”

“That’s not in our control,” she said. “This would be a lot less uncomfortable if you were Jeremy. We could catch up and time would pass – or at least appear to pass – and then our time would end and you’d cry and we’d hug and you’d tell me you love me.”

“But I don’t know you.”

“I know, I know, I’m just saying, that’s how this is supposed to go.”

“Have you done this before?”

“Oh, yeah, Jeremy’s sister, Tara? Oy, she’s a mess. Let me tell you…”

“So, we just… talk.”

“Until they come for you.”

“They?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know how this works except that we’ll know when the time is up. It’ll be sad. Well, it normally would be sad.”

They both sat silently for a long moment.

“So,” the old woman started, “where in New York do you live?”

“New York? I live in California.”

“This is going to be rough…”

***

Michelle felt herself being dragged through the forest at a breakneck pace. She tried to scream, but a powerful, hairy hand blocked her mouth. She wriggled, but the arm towing her tightened, momentarily squeezing out her breath. She stopped struggling and the grip loosened enough to breathe again. Her feet occasionally bounced off of ruts and rocks and she finally pointed her toes to try to make her passage less painful. Aside from the bushes rushing past, she could hear guttural panting from whatever it was that was towing her.

Michelle had no idea how long or how far she’d been dragged, but they finally came to a clearing. Her captor summarily dropped her to the ground, and she struggled to get control of her muscles and get to her feet and spin to face her abductor. In front of her stood a ape-like monster at least seven feet tall and covered in thick hair. Out of pure reflex, she let out a scream.

The beast roared back at her, chilling her blood.

Taking tentative but hurried steps away from the creature, she tripped on a burrow and landed in the brush on her butt. “Holy shit, Big foot!” she yelled.

The beast closed its mouth, tilted its head to regard Michelle and then said in perfect English, “You know, ‘big foot’ is awfully pejorative. We prefer the traditional Halkomelem ‘sæsq’ec’, but the anglified ‘sasquatch’ is acceptable.”

Michelle sat speechless.

A rustle from the bordering trees caught Michelle’s attention and she turned to see another, slightly smaller (though still terrifyingly massive) sasquatch bound out into the clearing.

“You didn’t get the other one?” the first sasquatch asked.

“Uh, no,” the other one said, his English a little less proper but come on – it’s a talking sasquatch! “They beamed ‘im before I coulda grabbed ‘im.”

The large sasquatch sighed and rubbed his eyes with a massive hand “Qelóth,” he started, “you said you could get him. You were confident you could get him, you started moving before the light even started its acquisition, and yet here we are with one of the two humans, and the Reptilians got the crucial human – no offense,” he said to Michelle on the ground.

“Uh, none taken,” she managed.

“What do you suggest we do now, Qelóth?”

Qelóth gave a massive shrug of his shoulders. “I don’t know, Kwótx̱wem, you’re the one that’s always got the plans. You said you know where the Reptils—”

“Reptilians,” Kwótx̱wem corrected.

“…Reptilianians are camped out. Whatsay we just rush ‘em?”

Kwótx̱wem studied Qelóth for a long moment. “Rush them? That’s your plan? One of the most advanced and violent species of extraterrestrials that has traveled thousands of light years and has perfected a light beam that literally abduct a subject from a distance and you are suggesting we rush them?”

“I mean, you know, it might work…” Qelóth said sheepishly.

“Extraterrestrials?” Michelle asked. “What the hell is going on?”

Kwótx̱wem turned his attention to her as if he’d forgotten she was there. “Oh, I am sorry. This must be incredibly disorienting. There is quite a bit of politics involved here, so I will spare you the long-winded details. The brief version is that you and your boyfriend are pawns in an intergalactic chess match that could potentially lead to the destruction of humanity. I and,’ he sighed, “Qelóth,” he gestured to the smaller sasquatch who gave a little bow, “attempted to take you both off of the proverbial chess board. Unfortunately, I apparently expected too much of my daft cohort and we only ended up with the lesser half – I am sorry, again, I mean no disrespect…”

“Why am I the lesser half? What do these… Reptilians? What do they want with Jason?”

“Your boyfriend – Jason? – Jason is functioning as a sort of key. When he traveled through here last week…”

“You saw him last week?!” Michelle blurted.

Kwótx̱wem squeezed his eyes closed in impatience, then continued, “…When he traveled through here last week he was intercepted by the Grays—”

“The short guys with the almond shaped eyes, right?”

“Yes, that is a decent description. As I was saying, Jason was intercepted by the Grays who were acting on behalf of the Nordics who had rescued a civilization in an arm of the galaxy you know as the Andromeda galaxy. The Draconians had positioned themselves to exterminate the sentient species there and plunder their planet for resources. The Nordics were able to distract the Draconians long enough to remove the solar system.”

“Remove the solar system?”

“It is complicated,” Kwótx̱wem said, “but suffice it to say the Nordics possess technology that allows them to condense matter to an unimaginable degree – it has to do with removing atomic space…” he waved a large furry hand, “I am afraid macro quantum manipulation is not my forte.”

“Yeah,” Michelle said, “Mine either. So, the, uh, Nordics took this miniature solar system – I’m picturing a solar-system shaped snow globe, just so you know – they, what? Handed it off to the Grays?”

“Exactly,” Kwótx̱wem said. “They Grays were able to ferry it away while the Draconians fought with the Nordics. The handoff back to the Nordics was supposed to happen here on earth but the Grays felt the Draconians were closing in and they used your boyfriend to hide… either the solar system itself…”

“The snow globe.”

“…Or a way to locate the solar system.”

“Snow globe. But, holy shit, you’re saying the Draconians have Jason?”

“It appears so…” Kwótx̱wem rubbed his chin.

“We have to rescue him!” Michelle leapt to her feet.

“That was my idea!” Qelóth chimed in.

“Out of the question!” Kwótx̱wem insisted. “It is impossible!”

“But they will kill him!” Michelle said.

“Yes, quite likely. If they have not already…”

“Not cool, big foot!”

Kwótx̱wem fixed her with a steely stare. His face changed to a patronizing smile. “Alright, human. How do you intend to stage a rescue – assuming your boyfriend is still alive – against one of the most savage races in universe.” Michelle opened her mouth to answer but Kwótx̱wem interjected, “I should add, when I say they are ‘savage’ that they have annihilated races far more advanced than humans. They are astute tacticians, utterly brutal warriors, who wear nearly impregnable armor. But please, human, how do you intend to defeat them?”

“I believe we can help,” a white haired man stepped out of the forest. He stood even with Kwótx̱wem, and even in the wan light of the moon Michelle found his delicate features and piercing blue eyes stunning.

“Nordics?” she mouthed to Kwótx̱wem who nodded.

***

Jason stopped drumming his fingers on the Bakelite table as he heard a commotion coming from beyond the red door on the wall to his right. Both the Bubbe and he stared at the door.

“What’s that noise?”

“I think you’re going back now.”

“Going back where?”

The Bubbe took his hands in his and stared intently into his eyes, “Look, Jeremy…”

“Jason.”

“Give me this, okay?” he nodded “you don’t come to this space unless it’s a real umglik in the real world that you can’t handle.”

“Umglik?”

She thought about a translation, “The shit has hit the fan.”

“Oh.”

“What I am telling you, Jeremy, is you’re not going back to a picnic, fershtay?”

“Uh, sure.”

A loud pounding started on the door. “That’s for you, Jeremy. Mazel tov.”

Jason stood up, walked to he red door, put his hand on the knob, and looked back at the Bubbe who deliberately didn’t meet his gaze. The door knob felt hot in his hand. He took a deep breath, and opened the door…

He lay on a cold slab and felt nothing but overwhelming, utter pain from everywhere at once. He couldn’t move his limbs. He moved his head to look at his body and immediately regretted it. He was naked and his torso was split open from just below his neck down to his belly, his organs still connected but hanging out while a giant lizard man rummaged through his abdomen with his long black talons…

…Jason opened his eyes. He was standing in a kitchen with green walls and orangish cabinets. His first thought was the décor was an improvement on the Bubbe’s place.

“Almost done!” an older black woman in a green floral blouse and rust-colored apron said as she pulled on oven mitts. “Smell good, don’t they?”

“Yeah,” Jason said, the word feeling familiar somehow…

“I’d ask you to sit down,” she opened the oven to take the cookie sheets out, “but you’re not going to anyway. And don’t worry about the vase…”

“What vase?” Jason turned and inadvertently knocked a green-glass vase of wildflowers with his elbow. As the vessel tipped and started to fall, he tried futilely to grab at it, but it smashed to the ground.

“That vase.”

“I’m sorry!” Jason said, trying to determine if he should clean it up or try to piece it back together…

“I said don’t worry about it,” she said with a smile, untying her apron.

“How did you know?” Jason asked. The words barely finished coming out of his mouth when it clicked. “Wait a second, this is that Oracle scene from the first Matrix movie!”

The Oracle lit a match from a box and as it blazed to life, waved it at him, “Bingo!” she said as she lit a cigarette.

“So now I’m in the Matrix?”

“Beats someone else’s grandmother’s house on Long Island,” she said, sitting at the table. “Really,” she said gesturing to the chair across from her, “Take a seat. This is the scene you remember, but you’re not Keanu Reeves and I’m not Gloria Foster,” she used the cigarette as a pointer gesturing to Jason and then herself. “Sit.”

Jason moved towards the chair and realized he wasn’t a giant ball of pain. “Wait, I saw… how can I be alive?”

“Oh,” the Oracle said seriously, “you saw that. Well, honey, you’re dealing with alien technology. They can keep you alive as long as they need to until they find what they’re looking for.”

“What are they looking for?”

She shrugged, leaned back in her chair and took a long drag on the cigarette. Letting the smoke out her nose she said, “Beats me! But, it seems to me they may not entirely know either.”

“Why do you say that?”

She tapped the ash of the cigarette into a plastic ashtray. “You alluded to it yourself. You’re still alive and yet they’ve got you torn apart. Why?”

Jason thought for a moment. “Because they don’t know if it’s a physical thing or something in here,” he said tapping his head.”

“Yes!” she said. And your ability to come to these head spaces has got to be frustrating their efforts to find out what you know.”

Jason nodded. “There has to be something more that I can do than sit around here and wait…”

The kitchen walls and the cabinets shuddered like a glitch in a video showing jagged edges, then resolving for a second into dimly lit warehouse with light pouring in through a high stained-glass window, then snapping back to the kitchen and becoming solid again.

“Uh oh,” the Oracle said, stubbing out her cigarette in the ash tray and standing up. “Looks like things are changing quickly, honey.” She took a step backwards from the table, “I think you have more agency here than you think. You’ve got to use your mind – their technology can be overcome if you can figure out a way…”

Jason felt words in his throat. They felt physical, like objects trying to be forcibly thrown up, and he could feel them pushing up his esophagus. Just before they came out of his mouth he heard them in his ears and let them fly with the proper fury and indignation. “People keep asking if I’m back,” he snarled. “And I haven’t really had an answer. But now, yeah, I’m thinking I’m back!” Suddenly two sets of hands covered his head with a thick plastic bag immediately cutting off his breath and ferociously pulling the back tight. Jason struggled against the men, his feet lashing out and kicking the table over. The hands held firm and he could feel his breath, his life start to leave him. His vision began to dim at the edges. He focused through the clear plastic of the bag as he fought, and his eyes fixed on the Oracle, her back against the stove, watching the scene. His lungs burned as he clawed at the thick plastic back and the iron grip of the two men. Then the Oracle drew out an enormous Magnum revolver and put a bullet through the head of the man on Jason’s left. Before the now-lifeless man had a chance to hit the ground, the other man released the bag and started to draw a gun from his shoulder holster to shoot the Oracle. Jason took the moment to whip the bag off his head. As he gasped a breath of air, he noticed the kitchen had changed to the warehouse, and he knew what he would do. He rammed the man with the gun, driving him to the ground, knocking the gun away.

In the real world, Jason formed his hand into a fist and slammed it into the face of the Reptilian who staggered backwards in surprise. An alarm klaxon sounded, and Jason’s organs snapped back into his body cavity like a film in fast reverse. His ribcage reformed, and the skin melted back together without so much as leaving a scar. In the real world, the pain was gone and Jason lunged at the Reptilian. Jason’s consciousness, however, wasn’t there…

Jason was in the warehouse, grappling with the henchman he’d knocked to the ground. The man’s gun had gone skittering across the floor, useless to them both as they exchanged furious punches and kicks in rapid succession. Jason stepped back and the man rushed him, his shoulder catching Jason in the gut. As Jason tried to recover, the man swept Jason’s legs out from under him with a kick and slammed him to the ground hard before pummeling him with punches to his face. Jason struggled to recover his breath as the man wrapped his vice-like hands around Jason’s throat and squeezed hard. Airway cut off, Jason struggled against the grip, the man’s full weight pushing down on him squeezing tighter. Jason pulled in his legs and kicked his knee hard into the man’s stomach. He released his grip and tried to regain the air Jason’s knee just pushed out of him. Jason bounded to his feet with strength and stamina that clearly were not his own and he wrapped his legs around the man’s neck in a scissor, utilizing his much bigger leg muscles to cut off the man’s air supply. The man struggled, clawing uselessly at Jason’s thigh, but he couldn’t break the grip. He fought minutes more, but finally convulsed and went limp. Jason held the hold tight another few moments as he panted catching his own breath. As he did, the warehouse faded away…

Jason lay on the floor of what clearly was some sort of an operating room. Held tight between his legs, the Reptilian lay motionless, dead. With a start, Jason released his leg grip and leapt to his feet. He stared around at the octagonal room, then at the steel table which he clearly had been on a moment ago.

“Where in the hell am I?” he asked aloud.