Traveller by L.W. Samuelson (reading comprehension books .txt) 📖

consumption of resources with no thought for the future. I don’t want to watch this world deteriorate and I don’t want to be here when Ship arrives to correct the problem.”
Porter nodded yes and then continued, “So you’re going to drink yourself to death? There’s a lot of life to be live before Ship gets here. Don’t just give up. The only thing you can control is who you are. Are you Traveller Orgen, the Benwarian with all the potential in the universe, or are you Traveller Orlovsky, the human who wants to be like Jim Morrison?”
“I understand what you’re trying to say. It’s just too painful to think about losing any of my friends. I’ve never had friends before.”
“But you’re already losing them,” Porter explained and then in a voice choked with emotion he said, “And I have always been you’re friend. It hurts to know you think otherwise.”
The truth of Porter’s words finally made Traveller realize what his affair with Jack Daniels had cost him, time with his friends, time to laugh and enjoy, to sing and dance without being numbed by a narcotic. He recanted, “I’m sorry Porter. You’ve been a better friend than I deserve.”
Traveller looked at Lori and then Willy, Jesse and then Tim, and finally at Austin, “You have all been better friends than I deserve.”
Overcome with emotion, Austin, who usually hid in silence, stood up and looked at Traveller, “You saved me from a slow, horrible death. You made my misery bearable. There is no better friend!”
“Damn straight,” Jesse agreed.
“I’ve got no complaints,” said Tim.
“You always gonna be a brother,” said Willy.
Traveller looked around gratefully as he realized that despite his shortcomings these people still cared for him and then his eyes fell on Lori. She was hanging her head and staring into her plate. He walked over to her and gently took her arm.
When Traveller pulled her up, she turned her head. Their eyes met with matching jewels of tears. Light glistened through them. “And you Lori. I promise to be a better friend from now on. I’ve missed you.”
“I was wondering if you’d ever come back,” she said into his chest as she hugged him fiercely.

Chapter 47 - Renewed Purpose

The Benwarian Blues Band had decided to stay in Tucson until their next concert. It would give them a few weeks to mend the broken relationships caused by Traveller’s fling with Jack Daniels. He and Austin were invited to stay with Porter and Loreto. Lori had also accepted an invitation. Tim and Jesse would stay in the band’s bus now parked in Porter’s driveway. Willy stayed at the inn where Loreto would pick him up every morning at eight.
Each day began with tea and a light breakfast of fruits and cottage cheese. Traveller, Austin, and Jesse would be served from their own separate pot by Rosa and Manuel Gutierrez whose job it was to keep everyone happy so that there were no interruptions in the discussions. The Gutierrezs were also encouraged to participate if it suited them.
On the first day after the brunch, Porter took Austin aside with an arm around his shoulders. He listened intently to Austin’s account of the My Lai Massacre. With a masterful use of the tension in the hug he conveyed sympathy and a deep understanding. For a second, Austin’s pain faded into a painful memory. From that moment on, he trusted Porter without reservation.
After Austin shared his nightmare, Porter suggested, “The Benwarians have developed a drug that will keep what happened to you from rising from to the surface. The nightmares will become a thing of the past. No living being should be tortured for the rest of their life for fighting against the dark side. It will allow you to live a normal life. I will archive the events so that they are not lost to history.”
When Austin agreed, Porter had Manuel drive them to his mountain ranch where the Vietnam veteran received the injection. The effect was immediate. The waves in Austin’s mind quit crashing against the shore of his psyche and the sea calmed.
The tension Austin had lived with since the trauma of My Lai dissipated. He couldn’t remember why he had been upset for what seemed like ages. He looked gratefully at Porter, “My God, where have I been all these years? Suddenly I feel like I’m twenty again.”
“Isn’t it amazing? Now you can start over again. It will be a new beginning without nightmares. Now you can dream again,” Porter said.

While Porter healed Austin, the band members discussed the new direction their music would take. Jesse, Tim, Traveller, and Lori had moved to the living room as Rosa cleared the kitchen table after their brunch. Traveller began the conversation. “First of all, I think we need to expand the band and add Lori as a singer/ songwriter. What do you guys think?”
“Sis? I can’t deny my only sister, she’ll tell Mom and Dad,” said Jesse.
“It’s a great idea as long as we don’t have to sing about John Steinbeck,” Tim agreed with a smile.
Traveller looked at Lori, “What do you think?”
“What about Austin?”
“He’ll be fine. Porter’s going to cure him. He’ll be better than new. We need you to write and sing. You two can trade off playing bass,” Traveller suggested.
“In that case I would love to,” Lori agreed.
“Welcome back,” Traveller said as he hugged her. “Now we are going to change the band’s direction. We need a motivating purpose, something to keep us focused. After listening to Porter’s suggestion, I think we should shift toward singing all of our own stuff. We’ll write songs about the world around us. I’m thinking we should write lyrics that educate and enlighten while at the same time creating music that entertains.”
“That’s a tall order. You mean like folk music?” asked Jesse.
“Some folk, but more of a mixture of music that appeals to a broad audience,” Traveller replied. “Our purpose will be to raise the social consciousness of as many people as possible.”
“I can get into writing songs about social issues,” said Lori.
“Yes, but we’ll also write songs that tell a story or describe some aspect of the world around us. The messages contained in our lyrics mustn’t be so didactic that they have no entertainment value. I think we should always write meaningful, soulful lyrics to be accented by the melodies we set them to.”
“It’ll have to be a gradual transformation or you’ll lose your audience,” said Lori.
“Agreed. And there are a few songs I’d like to keep performing anyway like “Ship of Fools,” said Traveller. “And I will always love the blues. It’s part my black heritage. Thanks to Willy.”
“And Jack Daniels,” said Jesse. “You can use it to tell your own story.”
“Mark this day on your calendar folks. Jesse just came up with a good suggestion,” Tim chided.
“I’ve got another idea. Let’s make our concerts an experience. We can act out some of the songs, make sets that enhance the songs, change into costumes that go along with our performances. Kind of like Alice Cooper or Kiss. We’ll give people a high impact experience that will leave them awed,” Jesse said.
“Another great idea. You’re already doing some of that when you change your persona, Traveller,” said Tim. “Our fans will love it!”
Lori lit up. “I love it!” she exclaimed. “We make our show into a theatrical performance, a musical like Rocky Horror Picture Show.”
The Benwarian Blues Band brainstormed for over an hour before they finally started planning for their next concert in Phoenix in three weeks.

The band was just finalizing their repertoire when an overly loud knock resounded on the front door. “It’s Willy,” said Traveller.
“How do you know that?” asked Tim.
“I can smell him.”
“That cold blooded,” said Jesse smiling.
“No, I’m serious. Don’t forget that we Benwarians have better developed senses than you humans. Besides, he and I share the same blood.”
They could hear Rosa open the door and then Loreto exclaim “Hey, how you doin’, black man? You come in, you be the second best lookin’ person in the house.”
Willy laughed, his eyes a twinkle, “Damn, that must mean you be number one.”
Loreto’s voice raised an octave, “Do I get your vote?”
“Damn straight. Except for Lori and Rosa, everyone else in this house be ugly.”
Just then Traveller and Jesse entered the room. “Traveller didn’t turn ugly till you gave him some of your blood,” Jesse quipped. “And if I’m not better lookin’ than you it’s because everyone’s blind.”
“Hey people!” Willy said brushing past Loreto to hug Traveller and shake Jesse’s hand with Lori watching from behind. When Willy saw her, he threw Jesse sideways and held his arms open for a hug. Lori stood on the tips of her toes and kissed his cheek while he embraced her. He held his right hand open behind him to shake Tim’s hand.
“If it ain’t the Benwarian Blues Band. Where’s Austin?”
“Porter’s takin’ him to the ranch to be healed,” Loreto answered.
“They all say when they be back?” Willy asked.
“Sometime this afternoon,” said Loreto. “Porter said to call a cab to take you to the airport if he’s not back in time.”
“You’re leaving?” asked Traveller.
“I’ve got to get back before Christmas. There’s a team practice on December twenty-sixth. I don’t make it, I don’t play,” Willy explained.
“How is ISU doing this year?”
“We’re second in the Big Sky. Montana’s a game up on us. We play’em next.”
“I miss playing basketball,” Traveller said.
“Me too,” Jesse agreed. “‘Member when we beat you guys in that tournament?” he asked Willy.
“Man, we didn’t know what was what. Ole’ Traveller be all over the court blockin’ shots and makin’ baskets. I couldn’t believe my eyes. You should’ve seen it, Loreto.”
“I’m sure,” she said. “Benwarians have a strange way of being in one place one second and another the next.”

Porter’s kitchen filled with the excited sounds of reminiscence for the next couple of hours as tea was sipped out of porcelain cups. Loreto traded stories about South Africa and her husband for tales of college life and Traveller’s encounter with rattle snakes and fighter jets.
Traveller listened with rapt attention when Loreto related how Porter had tracked down her father’s assailants and tied them together in the streets of Soweto. Two of them had become Porter’s dear friends and now ran an orphanage funded by the Benwarian. It made Traveller wish he had contributed something positive to this world he had escaped to.
She had just finished telling her favorite story about Porter trying to ride a zebra when the front door opened, in the same instant Porter appeared at the kitchen table.
“Lawd, I can never get used to that,” Willy said startled.
“What’s that, Willy?” asked Porter.
“The way you Benwarians can appear out of thin air.”
“We don’t just appear. We’re just able to move faster than the average human.”
“It be more than that, man. What you all do is unreal.”
Porter laughed, “Reality is all in your head. I did come in time to catch the tail end of Loreto’s story about the zebra. All of us have tried to ride a zebra at one time or another haven’t we?”
“I’ve never even seen one,” said Jesse.
“I think he means figuratively,” Lori said.
“Huh?”
“He means that everyone tries to do something impossibly stupid at some point in their life,” Lori explained.
Jesse looked astonished. “Oh yeah? Name one thing you’ve done without thinking about it for a long time.”
Lori’s face clouded up and raindrops formed in the corners of her eyes. “Believe me, little