When You Say My Name Just Whisper

By JB Welzenbach

When you say my name Just Whisper is the first of a series of nonfiction works based on four worlds existing simultaneously intertwined through a series of windows. In this first book, Val Orr is thrust from the safety and security of his home into the world of Necturn where he learns how to use powers; but not fast enough to save his sister. He then follows his sisters killers through a window to the earth world where he almost loses his life. Look closely at the picture of Val Orr. This is a very real earth person. You may have gone to school with him, saw him in the Parks of Montana, or in Seattle, or played sports against him. At the end of the book, he has to leave the earth world as he fights for his life in the battle he fought.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 23, 2013
• ISBN: 9781493153459

JB Welzenbach

JB Welzenbach, born and raised in Wolf Point Montana, now makes his home in Billings, Montana with his wife of 42 years. Jim spent 13 months in Vietnam and returned home to a country that did not believe in the war and soldiers faded into former lives coping the best they could. Jim is proud to be a veteran and is pleased the recognition soldiers of all wars are now given. Please contact him at [e-mail] with any pictures you may like to have in his future books. Reference Whisper in your email.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

THE COYOTE

Out in the middle of a blue sky with little clouds, a head appeared about four feet off the ground. The head looked to the right, then to the left, and finally straight down. The face was parallel to the ground, making looking down a frontal look. Some sparks flew out from around the neck, and a shoulder appeared. As the man squirmed, more of the body appeared. Bending at the waist, the man put his arms on the ground to support himself. Here in the middle of nowhere was half a man supporting himself on his hands. Sweat dripped off his forehead and nose, his breathing was labored, and his arms shook as if his weight was too much. Sparks still flew up around his waist and his hair, and clothes were singed. As he squirmed, his hips appeared, then his upper thighs. Whenever he moved, sparks would fly out like those from a welder’s rod. The sparks always surrounded the new area as more and more of the man became visible. Finally, he dropped to the ground. A swirl of purple dust filled the air. The man rolled on his back. His hair was dark black and plastered to his head with sweat. He wore a blue T-shirt that had the words IRON MIKE’S INSTITUTE OF HIGHER LEARNING.

Got to find the Coyote, he muttered as he lay on the purple ground, catching his breath. Got to find the Coyote. As he rolled to his side, he found that he was facing the blackest dog he had ever seen. He rolled off to the side.

A voice said in his head, You will want to mark the spot where you landed. Tyson stared up at the dog.

I said, you will want to mark the spot where you landed, the voice said again. After his telepathic communication with Patricia back in Nectar, Tyson knew that the voice was coming from the dog.

You can communicate with me, Tyson responded in thought.

You will want to mark the spot where you landed, the voice said again. Although these windows aren’t like those in Saultese that are reliable in opening in the exact same spot each time, the windows in this forsaken country open at random places and random times.

THE CHILDREN

Mystic Valley stretched a little under a mile in length and was approximately one mile across at its widest point. With high mountains reaching twelve thousand to fourteen thousand feet high on both sides, the valley was breathtaking with beauty. A visitor would have insisted on taking a picture because it was a perfect postcard scene. But Mystic Valley had no visitors. Being off any aviation flight plan, it remained left alone. The mountains, though rugged, did not have sheer cliffs that attracted so many mountain climbers. The south boundary of the valley bordered Nectar National Park. A mountainous wall separated Mystic Valley from the park. Only when one went between the twin gigantic ponderosa pines on their hands and knees, through a Trottenberry bush centered between the pines, would they find an opening behind the bush. This opening connected Mystic Valley to the park. Trottenberries were deadly poisonous if eaten, so no one had ever really wanted to approach the bush. Soon, this would all change.

Rusty had camped many times next to the two ponderosa pines within five feet of the Trottenberry bush. The north part of the park was not easily accessible, so most visitors stayed away. Rusty enjoyed the solitude, so taking the extra time to drive to the upper part of the park was well worth it to him. At thirty years of age, Rusty was in peak physical condition. He stood about six feet three inches tall and weighed 195 pounds. His thick brown hair was cut in a crew cut. Hard Iron Mike, Rusty’s father, had amassed a huge sum of money in the mining business before he had gotten married. A car accident had killed both of Rusty’s parents when he was twenty years old. Although financially independent, Rusty was too busy making his vast fortune grow to get involved with a steady girlfriend. Rusty Iron Mike had gotten his doctorate degree in psychology and psychiatry. He had started the Iron Mike Institute of Higher Learning. His colleagues called him Professor Mike or Rusty Iron.

Professor Rusty Iron Mike would never forget that early fall morning he was camping in the small clearing in front of the Trottenberry bush laden with large juicy purple fruit about the size of a lemon or a plum. He was shaving by looking in a small mirror held in the crook of a tree. Even in the woods, he was meticulously neat and orderly. A voice startled him, causing him to nick the small mole he had on his neck.

Nay pa, stu bach lo cammy?

Rusty swirled around, his razor in his hand and bits of shaving cream still on his face. Before him stood a young boy about twelve years old and a girl apparently a couple of years younger. The boy’s hair was a shining bleached white while the girl’s was coal black. Their clothes were scorched and dirty, but the colors blended into each other. A blue shirt, blue pants, and blue moccasin footwear complemented the boy’s penetrating blue eyes. Her attire was all in pink. Her eyes were large and round with long lashes and sparkling black pupils. She had a mischievous-looking grin. They both had a Trottenberry in their hands. The boy had eaten most of his, but the girl just held hers. Rusty dropped his razor in the bowl of water and quickly walked the short distance to the children.

Where did you come from? he asked, kneeling in front of the children. Slowly, he reached out and took the Trottenberry from the girl. The young lad quickly took another bite and handed what was left to Rusty.

Where did you come from? the boy repeated Rusty’s question.

I am from Rockvale. Where do you come from?

Again, the boy mimicked Rusty’s words, I am from Rockvale. Where do you come from?

Suddenly, unexpectedly, the little girl took a step closer to Rusty. She stuck her finger in her mouth, pulled it out, and reached up and touched the mole on Rusty’s neck. He felt a tingling sensation, much like someone had put a dash of alcohol on a cut. The girl’s eyes rolled back into her head until only the white of her eyes were showing. Her knees buckled, and she would have fallen had Rusty not caught her. The little girl in his arms could have weighed no more than ten pounds. He noticed a green glow coming from a pink necklace she wore around her neck. Rusty looked up at the boy. The penetrating blue eyes seemed to show no concern. Looking down, he saw coal-black unblinking eyes looking up at him. Slowly, she sat up in his arms and put her arms around his neck.

What’s going on here? Rusty asked of the boy.

Again, the boy mimicked, What’s going on here? But this time he continued, Nay pa, stu bach lo cammy? With that said, he walked over to Rusty’s cooler, opened it up, and began rummaging through it.

Lo cammy, the girl said in a whisper, looking up at Rusty.

You’re hungry, aren’t you? Rusty said with realization of what the boy was looking for. He set the little girl on her feet, got up, and went over to a brown paper bag. He pulled out a bag of potato chips.

Here, try these, he said, opening the bag and pouring some in his hand. The girl had followed him. Slowly, she reached out and took a potato chip. The boy rushed over to Rusty, grabbed what was left in his hand, and began cramming them in his mouth. Shoving them all in, he grabbed for the bag and held it open to the girl. She too had quickly eaten the one she had and was helping herself to some more. Both kids sat on the ground with the bag between them and were eating the chips as fast as they could shove them into their mouths. Not a word was spoken between them. Rusty went over to the cooler and picked up two cans of pop the boy had previously thrown on the ground. He popped the top on one of them. Hearing the sound, both children looked his way.

Here, have something to drink, Rusty said, handing the opened pop can to the young boy. As the lad took the can, Rusty popped the can on the second pop and handed it to the girl. They both took a big drink, smiled at each other, and began eating more potato chips, stopping occasionally to take a drink of their pop. Rusty watched them in silence.

I know what you need, he said, breaking the silence. Reaching back into the cooler, he brought out two roast beef sandwiches. Taking the wrap off them, he handed one to the girl and one to the boy. Eagerly they took them and ignored the chips as they devoured the sandwiches. The boy’s pop was empty.

Would you like to have another one? Rusty asked, getting two more pops from the cooler.

Would you like to have another one? the boy mimicked. Here, have something to drink.

Would you like to have another one? the girl also mimicked. Here, have something to drink.

Where do you come from? the boy asked with amazing clarity.

I come from Rockvale, the little girl answered with the same clarity. Where do you come from? Both kids went back to eating, but much slower this time. Rusty grabbed the towel hanging over the tree limb. He wiped the remaining shaving cream from his neck. He looked into the mirror to make sure that he got all the bits of shaving cream off.

The mole, it’s gone, he said with amazement.

The mole, it’s gone. You’re hungry, aren’t you? the boy said, looking up at Rusty.

I know what you need. Would you like to have another one? the young girl asked. Rusty could only look into the mirror. The skin in the area where the mole was had a pink hue to it as if it were healing. Rusty touched it again. Slowly, he turned and stared at the children.

Here, have something to drink, the boy said with a mused look on his face. The mole, it’s gone. The boy touched his neck gingerly as he had observed Rusty doing.

They don’t know my language, Rusty thought to himself, but they’re trying to learn it. My name is Rusty, he said out loud, patting himself on the chest.

My name is Rusty, the boy said, patting himself on the chest.

My name is Rusty, the girl repeated, patting herself on the chest.

That didn’t work like I wanted it to, Rusty thought to himself. Hey, Rusty! he exclaimed in a loud voice.

Hey, Rusty! the boy mimicked.

Me, Rusty said quickly before the girl could say anything. As he said it, he pointed to himself.

Hey, Rusty, the girl repeated, and again, Rusty pointed to himself. He then went up to the girl and turned her away from the boy.

Hey, Rusty said and turned the girl toward the boy. The young lad’s face broke out in a grin.

Hey, Val Eree, he said.

The girl returned a big smile, saying, Me, and pointed toward herself. Hey, Val Orr, she continued.

Me, the boy replied. Hey, Rusty.

Me, my name is Rusty, the man said, pointing to himself.

With more grins all around, the children said in unison, My name is Val Orr, he said, while she said, My name is Val Eree.

Now we are getting some place, Rusty thought some more to himself. Before he could say anything else, the boy, Val Orr, jumped up and looked off into the trees.

Ving off loop stray op, Val said, turning to the girl. She became instantly agitated.

Ving off loop stray op? she said in a questioning voice. Frump pa. She headed back toward the Trottenberry bush. The boy was right behind her.

Wait, where are you going? Don’t go! Rusty hollered at them. He was too late. They had both crawled under the Trottenberry bush. Just their small round faces stuck out between the branches.

Come on out here. There’s nothing to be afraid of, Rusty tried to reassure them.

Ving off loop stray op, the boy said, reaching through the branches and pointing toward the woods. Rusty looked but saw nothing. No amount of coaxing could get the children to come out. Occasionally, one of them would mimic something he had said earlier.

I am from Rockvale. Where do you come from? the boy muttered.

Wait, where are you going? You must be hungry, the girl replied. Suddenly, Rusty was aware that he could hear a motor coming his direction. A motorcycle shot out of the woods and headed straight for Rusty. He dove to one side. As he glanced back, he saw Val point at the brown paper bag, curl his finger, and jerked toward him. The brown paper bag jumped toward the Trottenberry bush just as the motorcycle sped right over the spot where the bag had been.

Well, I’ll be hornswoggled, Rusty murmured to himself as he got up and brushed himself off. The children came out of the bushes. Val was carrying the brown paper bag.

Well, I’ll be hornswoggled, Val Eree said, wiping off the front of her dress. Val had another Trottenberry that he had just taken a bite out of.

Just where do you kids come from, and what other tricks do you have? Rusty said more to himself.

Just where do you kids come from? Here try these, Val said, handing the bag to Rusty. My name is Val Orr. What is your name?

I think they are practicing the words, Rusty thought to himself. Picking up a rock, he bounced it in his hand. This is a rock, he said as he handed the rock to the boy. Next, he picked up a branch. This is a twig, he said as he handed the branch to the girl.

This is a rock, the boy said. He reached for the branch. This is a twig. Val took the twig from the girl and handed her the rock.

This is a twig, the girl said.

Varoom! the boy said, taking the rock out of the girl’s hand. This is a twig, he said, handing her the branch. This is a rock. He held the rock in front of the girl. Bog, due neigh do, he finished.

This is a twig, the girl said with a big smile. Pointing at the rock, she said, This is a rock. Val bent over and picked up the brown paper bag. This is a? He looked up at Rusty. This is a? He gestured toward Rusty shaking the bag.

That is a bag, Rusty told him.

That is a bag? the boy questioned. This is a? Again, he shook the bag at Rusty.

This is a bag. Rusty took the bag from Val. That is a twig. He pointed at the twig that Val Eree held. That is a rock, he said as he pointed at the rock that Val still held.

Val nodded his head. That is a bag. That is a twig. This is a rock. He turned toward Val Eree.

That is a rock. That is a bag. This is a twig. She smiled gleefully.

Very good, Rusty said encouragingly.

Very good, both children chimed together. Rusty broke out laughing, and the kids began laughing with him. The next couple of hours consisted of the kids picking up items and showing them to Rusty as they asked, This is a? Rusty would tell them, and they would repeat it. Sometimes Rusty would hold up an item that they had previously learned.

What is this? he would ask. Before long, the children were asking, What is this? as they picked up an item. Rusty was amazed. They never forgot once they had said the name of the item they were holding.

They are definitely learning my language, Rusty marveled. At this rate, they will know it in who knows how long—a couple of weeks or days or what. Evening was starting to come on. The children had helped themselves to more food as they played their game.

I’m sure they have no home, yet I don’t know that they will come with me, Rusty thought to himself. The children were playing with some branches and some rocks. First, Val Orr would point at a twig, bend his finger, and bring his hand toward himself. The twig or rock would slide toward him. Then it would seem to be Val Eree’s turn. She might do the same with a branch, a twig, or a rock, making it move toward her. It’s like they have an invisible rope and are pulling it to them, Rusty thought to himself. Sometimes one of the children would jerk their hand toward their bodies, causing the twig, branch, or rock to jump completely off the ground. Sometimes Rusty would chuckle, causing the children to look up at him and giggle.

Rusty began gathering up the food and other items and putting them in the cooler or different bag he had. The children stopped playing and came over to watch him. After watching for a while, they also helped gather the camping supplies. They even helped Rusty put the cooler and bags into the back of his jeep. Rusty opened up the passenger-side door.

Up you go, he said, lifting the girl up and placing her on the seat.

Up you go, Val Orr said, scrambling up onto the seat himself.

Although there had been no language between the grown-up and the children, they all seemed to know this is the way it would have to be. The children simply had nowhere else to go. They liked and trusted this man.

A NEW HOME FOR THE CHILDREN

Rusty took the children home with him. First of all, he couldn’t just leave them out in the park. And second, he was very curious about these children who could move an object by pointing a finger at it, remove a mole by touching it, learn a language in a matter of hours, and, apparently, had hearing far superior to his. They had heard the motorcycle long before he had. On the way home, he looked at the children. Both had fallen asleep. A purple hue covered them from their head to their toes. Rusty reached out in wonder to touch the hue. Val Orr opened his eyes the second Rusty’s hand touched the hue.

She’s asleep, Rusty said quietly.

She’s asleep, the boy replied and closed his eyes. Rusty did not try to touch the children again but looked their direction many times. Val Eree sat up a moment and then slouched into Rusty’s side. The purple hue had disappeared as soon as she opened her eyes. It reappeared when she slouched against Rusty. The place where the purple hue touched Rusty felt warm and good.

It’s not just the warmth from her body, Rusty thought to himself. There’s more to these children than I suspected. Where did they come from? Who are they? his thoughts continued.

Home was a ranch located six miles out of Rockvale. Although the only livestock he had on the ranch were six horses, one old milk cow, a couple of ducks, and a crippled-up old yellow dog, Rusty called it his ranch. Behind the main house were the caretakers’ living quarters. Lucas Red Cloud and his wife, Misty, lived on the farm and worked for Hard Iron Mike long before Rusty was born. As far as Rusty was concerned, they had a home there as long as they lived. Lucas and Misty had two grown children that came by about three times a year to visit. Rusty was their family now. Lucas and Misty came out to the pickup when Rusty drove up to the ranch. The children stumbled into the house, and Misty put them in the guest bedroom.

Life on the ranch became very interesting. The Red Clouds immediately adopted the children. Misty made them new clothes and gave the existing one to Rusty. The fabric the clothes were made out of had a strange shine to them and, other than a few scorched spots, showed no signs of wear and tear that would usually be seen in children’s clothes. There seemed to be no seams, no stitches, or places where sleeves were sewn on. They seemed like they were one piece. In addition, they were clean. Dirt did not seem to stick to the fabric. When Misty and Rusty put them to their nose, they smelled slightly of baby powder. Rusty put the clothes up. He would take them to the lab for research. He would study them often over the next few weeks. The children loved their new clothes.

They learned the language quickly between themselves. Val could be found spending hours at a time in Rusty’s library reading the encyclopedias and huge volumes of books found on the shelves. When he was reading about trees, Rusty would find him in the forest up in the branches or digging at the roots. When he was reading about mechanics, Rusty would find him under a car or pickup hood. And when Val was reading about birds, Rusty would find him again up in the trees looking into bird nests. Rusty could always tell what Val was reading just by looking at all the samples and collection of research materials scattered around the boy’s bedroom.

On the other hand, Valerie was always out with the animals or following one of the Red Clouds around, asking thousands of questions. Rusty noticed the necklace around her neck gave out a mellow-green hue when Valerie would pet the old yellow dog. And soon, the dog no longer limped and followed Valerie wherever she went. Rusty watched the necklace glow its green hue when she rubbed the scars on the stallion’s chest where he had run into a barbwire fence years ago. Soon the scars too disappeared, and the stallion always ran up to her when she went out to the pasture. The milk cow even gave more milk the few times that Valerie milked her. The necklace was a fascination to Rusty. He was patient and observed the children without asking too many questions. They seemed not to want to talk about the past the few times Rusty inquired.

One day, Misty came running into Rusty’s study, where he was reading some journals. That boy done lost it this time, she jabbered in her broken language. He’s walking around the ranch blindfolded. Rusty quickly followed Misty out the front door. Valerie was sitting on the front step, scratching the old yellow dog behind the ear. The animal’s eyes were closed, and he was content.

Where’s Val? Rusty asked her as he came down the steps. Valerie pointed across the yard. There was Val coming up the driveway,