Kitty’s Thunderbird Journal — Entry 1

Let my first journal entry be the last chapter in Bill Thunderbird’s log. After all, I am a Thunderbird in training, and He was my original mentor. Without Him, I never would have gained the ability to leap dimensions, nor lift the entire Earth’s multiversal Akashic up to the Twelve for full, existential recognition.

I can first pick up where He had left off. We were sitting in that cozy, backroom booth in the tavern. Before we skipped out to visit Keith on the Cheshire, Bill and I decided to indulge in a little tethered leaping, like old times. He was a full-fledged Thunderbird now, and I was on the way. Together, our bounds knew no limits.

I took him to that utopia Earth I had mentioned. We drank in the overwhelming majesty of towering, megalithic structures that the utopia’s enlightened civilization had constructed. They were draped in sprawling vines that delicately complemented the stone latticework. When natural light hit their building sides at just the right time of day, we never felt smaller standing next to them—a feat for Thunderbirds who hold the multiverse as their oyster. I had seen these structures before, but they were made even more special as I shared them with Bill.

He too took me to his favorite haunts. We met many strange and interesting characters of the multiverse, together. The breakfast spot Bookends never failed to deliver. We sat in on a poker game among cosmonaut oligarchs. We swooped in backstage at our favorite comedians’ and rock stars’ shows to rub elbows with these creative elite. We skated at Bill’s favorite parks, with a crew of skaters He had hung with in between leaping worlds. Our combined leaping trails complemented each other’s like DNA’s double helix.

We kept intertwined like that, precipitating through the movierain, for a while. But eventually, I had to get back to Thunderbird practice. The Order had assigned me lost souls duty. And our planned rendezvous fell to chance encounters. We drifted apart after a while.

We crossed paths a few times after I achieved full Thunderbird status. And I watched him from afar, just to keep tabs, and possibly because I’m a little sentimental. Bill Thunderbird remained with the Cheshire crew for years. And they continued their leaping adventures. They even flipped Danny V. to their side. And he helped Bill and Cheshire plot destinations, rather than dole out bureaucratic UU demands. They were all of a higher purpose now, paying homage to the Twelve.

Though the Thunderbird lifespan can stretch from 10,000 years into infinity, sometimes they can fall trapped in loops, unable to rise above the recursion, thus doomed to repeat without outside intervention. And Bill succumbed to this fate, as well, when each one of the Cheshire crew, one by one, dropped from ship service. Ultimately, he forgot He was a Thunderbird altogether and fell to mortal ends. And I was tasked with bringing his eternal soul to the next life.

The following is an excerpt from my official Thunderbird Order log for ushering souls:

On 82602891 date, I was radioed to retrieve one Bill Thunderbird, whose metaphysical shell had expired, and usher his soul to the next host. I immediately located Bill Thunderbird’s former host body and scooped his escaping spectre at the speed of thought. The exit point is always the best opportunity to intervene to prevent any of the soul’s existence from succumbing to the fray. I retrieved one complete Bill Thunderbird’s soul and brought him to his next body, by decree from the Order.

The hospital room was alive with joy, excitement, and loud screams from Bill’s would-be mother, giving labor.

“C’mon, honey!” his would-be father, coached mommy to push. “Contractions are very close now. We’re almost there!”

The sun poured in richly, filling the hospital room with warm light. The hospital sat in this quaint, charming town. It seemed like a great home for Bill. I immediately inserted his soul into the baby’s body slowly entering the world.

I stayed long enough to tag the event, with mother, father and son swaddled in the care of his new loving parents.

The doctor entered the room to check on them.

“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Florian,” the doctor said. “Your new baby boy is very healthy!”

His mom looked down at her little cherub, she smiled, and said, “I think we’ll call him Bryan.”

***