On to the Unknown

Contents

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Epilogue

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Many thanks go to Gail S. White of Tailored PC Documents for her professional understanding, advice, and recommendations in regards to this book. She had a super grasp of my need for the ‘how to’, ‘where to’, and ‘why to’ for my story. Thanks also go to my wife, Mina A. Swan, for her patience in reading, correcting grammar, setting up punctuations, and eliminating duplications. Additional help is always needed but so rarely recognized.

Cover Design by Mina A. Swan

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of a character to any person living, dead, or some other author’s fictitious character is purely coincidental and unintentional. While most of the locations in the United States are real, some of the out of country locations are purely fictitious. Unfortunately, all of the several dozen stars nearest to our solar system offer no chance of being a sister star to our sun nor do they show any indication of being able to have planets that could possibly support life as we know it. However, there are many strange and bizarre things out in the cosmos and as many strange and bizarre things right here on earth. Perhaps, just perhaps, some day someone will locate a sister star to our sun within reach of a fast space ship, and a trip ‘On to the Unknown’ can really happen. Will you volunteer to go?

CHAPTER 1

THE DRIVE NORTH FROM Chicago had been pleasant enough, rather boring, but uneventful. This suited Barry Moore just fine. The past days, weeks, and months had been anything but boring, and a bit of respite was well in order. After leaving the Interstate, the drive was somewhat slower, but more interesting. Slower driving gave him more time to enjoy the scenery, and soak in the views of the forests, lakes, and land contours and gave him time to think.

How many years had it been since his father had first driven him over this route? Well, at least over part of it. What was it, 15 years ago? His father always looked forward to his annual fishing trip to Canada ‘with the boys’. However, the rest of the family just pretended to enjoy it with him. Barry knew his mother missed him during that week, and his kid sister, who was difficult to live with at any time, became simply unbearable when he was gone. Nothing went right for her, nothing satisfied her, and there were really no polite terms to describe her actions and attitudes. It’s sure funny what a few years could do to her. Now, an adult holding a B.A. degree, she was one of the most charming and personable young ladies that he had the privilege of knowing. And to think that she was his sister! A smile involuntarily came over his face.

Back to his father! Barry liked to fish also. His father often said that it was something that a person either liked or didn’t. You couldn’t train someone to like it and for the born fisherman, there was nothing that you could do to take it away from him. You were either right handed or left handed, you were either male or female, you either had hair on your head or you didn’t and you either liked to fish or you didn’t. Well, Barry liked to fish! He had been asking to go with his father ever since he was about 5 years old and the answer was always the same, I’m sorry, but this trip is just for adult men. His father always hastened to add that the family vacation would come later, would explain where they would be going and what they would be doing, and asked to try to understand. Of course, he never did understand.

It had been a full day of driving and approaching International Falls found Barry getting a mite saddle sore as his parents would often say. Still, his thoughts kept going back to the time when things changed. He was 13 at the time, still a good student, a bit socially awkward, and unknown to him, was considered cute by some of the younger girls. At any rate, he had made his annual request to join his father and the boys on their trip and his father had given him his annual denial with the added statement to just wait until he was older. Normally, he would just have walked off. When he was 6 or 7, he would have thrown a tantrum, at age 8 or 9 the tears would have come but no one else would have seen them. He may have been too old for tears now, but the hurt was still there. Was that what made him say, Dad, I don’t want to go fishing with the boys; I want to go with you. At that statement, his father just got up and walked out. Barry did not realize it but his father left so that his son could not see his tears.

Plans were changed that year and for the years after that. The four boys had a meeting and no one really knows what was said, but a child from each got invited to join them. The boys went only one more time after that year and again the children were invited. The following year Barry and his father went alone. And it was the next year that his father was killed in a freak auto accident.

Entering International Falls, Barry could not help but grin thinking of their first trip through here. The men had always gotten two rooms for the four of them, and one of them had absentmindedly suggested getting another room for the kids. There had been a few moments of silence broken by Mike Smith’s loud, Yeah, which generated a lot of laughter.

Seconds later, Joannie firmly raised her vocal objections, What, no way?

Mike, at 14 was the oldest son to go. Barry knew him but the vast age difference of one year kept them from doing things together. Jerry was 13, the same age as Barry, and they had been good chums for at least 6 years. Barry and Jerry, known in the neighborhood as the J. B. Twins, were good pals, good friends, and could really talk together. Then there was Mr. Diamond. He did not have any sons, or at least none older than 5 or 6. But he had a 12-year-old daughter, who, while she did not invent the term ‘Women’s Lib’, sure gave it an early juvenile meaning that would have put some of the older, more vocal libbers to shame.

As far as Joannie was concerned, there was nothing that a boy could do that a girl could not do better, faster, cleaner, cheaper, well, you get the picture. Girls stood in awe of her, even older girls and boys gave her a wide birth. Yet, Barry liked her. She was O.K. If you treated her as if she was a boy, did not try to open a door for her, did not try to help her with her gear, and did not act as if she was a silly weakling, then she was good company. But, sharing a room with the boys! That was going a little too far. She got her separate room but the other boys joked for years about her immediate, what! However, no one could really do justice to her cry. The younger boys did not like the idea of having a girl along on the trip, and they especially did not want Joannie along. She could really be a pain. However, a gentle reminder by their fathers about their own rather tenuous invitations elicited no complaints. As Barry stated to the others, "I would have even let my sister come if that’s what would take for me to do so. So Joannie went on the trip, begrudgingly accepted by the younger boys, but admired and respected by all by the time they returned.

After getting a motel for the evening and having a light supper, Barry’s thoughts went back to his first fishing trip. The older men knew the lake and did not use guides and usually got two boats for two men in each boat. With the children along, they hired two guides and rotated them between the boats. It gave the fathers more time with the children and relieved the fathers of doing the noon cooking which none really enjoyed. For the first couple of days, each of the young persons joined his or her father for the day’s fishing. Even though they had all fished before, the Canadian fishing required more talent and experience. The children had some learning to do, some mistakes to make, and apologies to give. When the boat partner got a good strike, it was the duty of the other partner to pull up the anchor if it was down and get any stringer of fish into the boat. If the fisherman was trying to bring in a fish, anything hanging in the water could get tangled in his line resulting in a broken line and a lost fish. It took some practice to move fast when needed. Barry did not move fast enough once and his father lost what seemed to be a good sized Walleye. The look of disappointment in his fathers’ eyes made Barry keen on not letting it happen again.

After two days, the younger boys decided to pair off as partners. Barry and Jerry fished together in the morning and fished with their fathers in the afternoon. Mike and Joannie teamed in the morning and joined their fathers in the afternoon. The fourth day teamed Barry and Mike. During all of this, everyone was having a ball. They were catching fish, nothing to brag about, eating plenty of fish, and enjoying some of the most beautiful scenery that they had been privileged to see. In the mornings, the lakes were glassy smooth and in the evenings they were able to listen to the yodeling of the loons. That was a sound that you had to hear to appreciate. It could not be explained.

The fifth day had Barry teamed with Joannie. Joannie did not want the use of a guide, wanted to run the boat herself, and made it plain that she was the ‘captain’ of the ship. It did not look to be a fun day. Surprisingly, it was rather enjoyable right from the start. She ran the motor as if she had years of training and wanted to take the boat to a little cove that they had not fished before. Barry was enjoying himself in spite of the circumstances. Joannie was fun to be with even if she was a girl. They took turns running the motor, fished first one area and then moved to another, and Joannie could troll in reverse with one hand on the motor and the other on her rod with an expertise that Barry had to admire.

It came as a surprise to hear Joannie say, I have a good one. There was no excitement about it, no school girl screaming, just a flat statement.

Barry gave a puzzled, Huh?

I said, I have a good one Joannie replied and Barry then noticed the bent rod, the taught line, and something in the water trying to put distance between itself and the boat. Then the ‘something’ was going deep and seemed to be going under the boat. Dropping his own rod in the bottom of the boat, Barry grabbed the stringer with one hand and rather urgently brought it over the side and into the boat. Joannie was at the motor and Barry had to lean over her, take the controls, turn off the motor, and lift it out of the water. At first, it caught on something and wouldn’t swing up. Barry could just visualize Joannie losing her fish when the line got caught in the motor. On the second attempt it moved out of the water. Still moving, Barry slid back to the center of the boat, got the net handy, and waited. Joannie was continuing to work or play the fish. And she was working! Her muscles stood out, well, maybe not as much as Mike’s did, but they were being used. Sweat was on her forehead, her hands gripped the rod and reel, reeling in the fish when it seemed right to do so, and letting the fish tire itself out. With nothing hanging over the side of the boat, the fish went from one side of the boat to the other with no danger of getting snagged. During it all, Joannie said not a ward. She acted as a pro and Barry could not help but admire the way she handled herself. If only she wasn’t such a royal pain.

It seemed like thirty minutes but was probably not more than about four or five that Joannie started to reel the fish to the boat. For all of this time the fish had been under the water and out of sight. When about 10 feet out, it came close to the surface and they could see it. It was a Northern Pike and was far larger than any caught by any of the others. Oh, my was the only comment made by Joannie.

Don’t lose it escaped from Barry as if the statement had to be made.

The fish still had plenty of fight left in him but was tiring. On the first pass with the net, Barry got the net in the water, but the sight of it spooked the fish and he dove stripping off line. Joannie said not a word but held on and worked him back in again. On the next pass close to the boat, Barry got the net in the water just about the time he heard the line snap.

He had the fish’s head in the net, used both hands to try to pull the net over the fish loosing his own balance in the bargain, and brought the net and the half entangled fish out of the water and into the boat. The net and fish hit the bottom of the boat in a spray of water and quickly turned the bottom of the boat into a no man’s land. It was not safe for hands or feet. That pike was quite angry but then they always seemed mad. This one seemed particularly ticked off and the array of teeth could have done some damage to anyone foolish enough to get close. Barry gave a respected, Wow!

Joannie just looked, mouth slightly open, and then started to tremble. We got a good one, we got us a real beauty. It took a few moments for Barry to realize that Joannie had said We and not I. Did she make a mistake? Her next comment took away any doubt. Oh Barry, I would have lost it if it wasn’t for you. It would have gotten away and I would have been heartbroken and I would have claimed that it was the biggest fish in this lake and I would claim that you were not fast enough or good enough with the net and I would have - - -.

It was here that she started to cry. The tears were real, her face was a real mess by now, and Barry automatically put his arms around her and hugged her to him. It felt kind of good. She wasn’t a hardnosed, granite boned, tomboy after all.

But in a few moments, the Joannie of old came back. Well, almost the Joannie of old. She remarked, Look, we caught that fish. I would have lost it except for you and I am going to tell everyone that we caught it. It is a beauty, bigger than any we have seen so far. I know that it is not a trophy fish, but it is the biggest that I have ever caught or ever hope to catch.

After a few seconds, Barry replied, No, that will not do. The fish was yours, you hooked it, you played it, and just maybe if I had been better, you would have got it netted without it breaking your line. It’s true that I was able to net it the next try, and it’s true that when your line broke, you would have lost it. But, it’s your fish, all yours and the credit for catching it is all yours. You and I may know how close you came to losing it, but no one else needs to know. The credit should be and is all yours. O.K.?

It was a gentle, little girl, shy and coy who demurely replied quietly, Okay.

Driving north of International Falls, Barry noticed that there were more settlements than he had remembered but the forest looked the same. Didn’t they grow at all? They were as he remembered, maybe a bit less of them but surely no taller. The road was somewhat in better condition than he remembered but still pleasant, with a lovely warm June day, almost cloudless, more traffic than he remembered in the past, and more motor homes, lots more of them.

He had been looking forward to this fishing trip for at least ten years. It wouldn’t be the same without his dad or Jerry or Joannie but he needed the trip. He needed the solitude of fishing, of being away from people, problems, travel or at least the work travel and of being ‘needed’. Just let me be by myself for awhile. Well, at least no one knew where he was going except to Canada and that should be too big a place for anyone to find him. What was this? The first real vacation in three years. He deserved it, but then he deserved it in the past but something always came up, some emergency somewhere in the world, and he was off again.

Barry’s thoughts went back to Joannie. He wondered whatever happened to her. When he went away to college, she had moved and he had lost track. They never were anything except good friends but they were very good friends. She still treated other boys as if they were some kind of body lice, but she and Barry had a friendship that was nothing physical, just a liking of each other. She called him her ‘buddy’ and they both liked to tell of the fish that she caught. And she always had a smile for Barry when she told the story. She was alright, tough as nails, and soft as velvet. Barry got a lot a kidding from the other boys for letting a little girl show him up in fishing and he always replied, Well, she had more talent.

This trip would be different, but, if nothing more, it would bring back many fond and beautiful memories. After that first trip with their children, the fathers would have it no other way in the future. All fathers may not have felt that way, but these did.

Driving on, Barry was oblivious to the scenery passing by. There was less traffic now, but the two lane highway required slower driving. Passing customs into Canada was a breeze; he knew that it would take a little longer going back into the U.S. Oh well, it was still a friendly border and the border patrol officers were courteous and cordial to deal with.

Barry got a lump in his throat thinking of his dad. That was a fun trip and they made a good fishing team. His father was a good instructor and thoroughly enjoyed showing his son some of the finer points of fishing ‘up north’. His pal, Jerry, went on the trip because everyone else did. But he was not a tried and true fisherman. He could troll, he learned to run the motor, he was good fun to be with, but he never did learn to cast or even act as if he wanted to learn. He was just content to be part of the group. Mike now, he wanted to fish but was reaching the age where he was beginning to notice girls. He kind of liked Joannie but she gave him no encouragement. As far as she was concerned, he did not exist. Barry didn’t exist either, at least not until he had helped her land her fish. After that, she treated him as one friend would treat another. And there was one more little incident that brought a smile to Barry’s face.

It was their last evening at the camp. They had planned on doing a small amount of fishing the next morning before taking the boats back to the camping lodge. The catch of the day had been cleaned, supper was over, and they all just sat around talking and listening to the loons. Man, they made a beautiful sound. His father had told him that, if nothing else, the trip north would be worth it just to hear the loons. Barry did not believe him until he first heard them. His father’s statement may have been a bit of an exaggeration but not much. Things got quiet for a few moments and it was still quite light as it did not get dark until about 10 PM. Being so far north did make a difference.

When Joannie first asked him if he wanted to take one of the boats out for a spin, he almost declined. But, seeing the look on her face, he said sure, why not. They both got their rods, just in case, and started off. Jerry started to get up to go but caught Joannie’s glare and thought better of it.

The lake had calmed down from the day breezes and would soon turn into a mirror, as smooth and ripple free as a silver backed mirror. Joannie was manning the motor when she slowed down and stared off to one side of the lake that had reeds coming about 50 feet out into the lake. Without saying a ward, she turned toward the bank and motored slower and slower up to the reeds. She was still about 50 feet from the reeds and had the motor running as slow as possible. Get your rod, Barry, there’s something feeding in there. By now, Barry had noticed the water splashing as if something under it was leaping toward prey close to the surface. Barry had brought his rod and only one lure. His first cast was at least 15 feet short of the spot where they had last seen the fish splashing. His next cast came within two feet, but it was close enough.

The water exploded where the lure had landed. He had a fish on and there were all kinds of reeds and brush for it to get snagged in. He held on, reeled in when he could, tried to keep the fish from getting tangled, and all the time Joannie was expertly backing the boat out of the reeds so that the fish would be in open water and Barry could have a better chance of landing it. By the time he had the fish close to the boat, they were back in open water. Joannie had the motor out of the water and the net ready. There was nothing doubtful about landing that fish. He was brought to the side of the boat, Joannie netted him and he was brought in. He was nowhere near the size of the one Joannie caught but still went over 7 lbs. making it by far the largest that Barry caught. When it was safely in the boat, Joannie had said, We got us another one. and grinned. Now, I feel better. I had wanted you to catch a nice one also, and now you did. With that, they solemnly shook hands, just like two old men.

Barry had brought most of his food supplies with him. He not only liked to catch fish, he didn’t mind cleaning them, liked to cook them and was looking forward to having Walleye and Northern Pike at least twice a day. He had also planned on having a guide for his trip, someone to help with the boat and motor and to prepare a noon meal. For this trip, Barry wanted to rest and relax and pay someone else to do the chores. However, in consideration for a guide who obviously saw more than his