On a scorching August afternoon, a roadster traversed the Santa Susanna Pass, entering the San Fernando Valley. The rising heat and the struggling engine made clear the steep incline and intense climate of this parched area, cut off from the ocean's cooling breezes by surrounding mountains.

The two occupants of the car had succumbed to a dull fatigue from the long journey. Their faces, so strikingly similar yet distinctly different, were etched with a watchful calm. Their alert eyes, squinting against the blinding sun, observed every detail of the arid scenery and the occasional hitchhiker trudging along the roadside.

To emphasize the discomfort of the area, roadside signs sternly warned: “No smoking beyond this point.” “No fires permitted by sheriff’s order.”

“Who in the world would want to add more heat to this inferno?” the driver grumbled. The act of speaking stirred him, prompting him to shift his broad shoulders and free them from the damp fabric of his shirt.

In his college days, Julius Winslow had been recognized more for his muscular strength and coordination than for his academic achievements. Tall and athletic, he had garnered attention for his performances in the university stadium while his academic excellence in mathematics went largely unnoticed, culminating in a doctorate degree.

In contrast to his robust physique, his delicate features and sensitive demeanor hinted at a more artistic side. Now in his early thirties, he served as a mathematics instructor at Caltech, with a professorship on the horizon.

His sister, Jada, stirred beside him.

“It won’t be long now,” she remarked. “It's our fault for heading inland. I was hoping to catch some movie folks shooting locations. This is where the hero rides out of the canyon with the heroine, you know.”

In Jada Winslow, the cool reserve of her brother was replaced by warmth and charm. At first glance, she seemed merely attractive, with a flawless brown complexion and delightful features. However, as one got to know her better, her face revealed depth and character, a gradual discovery rewarded by deeper friendship. Her wavy ebony hair and dark eyes, which appeared simply pretty on others, radiated dignity and grace in her presence.

As the roadster took a sharp turn, a weary figure trudged up the hill under the relentless midday sun.

“Where do they think they’re headed?” Julius asked. “Trying to walk away from their problems? They surely have nowhere else to go.”

As they passed, the wanderer glanced up and smiled. It was a brief encounter, yet there was something in his expression that demanded attention. Instead of the typical request for assistance, he conveyed a silent, poignant inquiry. Julius found himself slowing the car.

“Did you see that?” Jada exclaimed, peering into the rearview mirror for another look at the dusty traveler.

“Yeah, some vagrant!” Julius replied.

Years of shared experiences had intertwined the lives of these two distinct individuals. Orphaned early in life and raised by a stern aunt, they had formed a bond rooted in necessity, offering each other the empathy and understanding absent from their upbringing. After their aunt's passing left them with a modest inheritance, their lives continued in parallel. Neither had married nor pursued serious relationships, sharing an unspoken understanding that allowed thoughts to be exchanged with merely a glance.

Julius kept an eye on the stranger through the rearview mirror.

“Beneath all that dust, he’s actually quite striking,” he remarked.

“It felt like an SOS,” Jada said hesitantly.

“Oh, you see all sorts on this highway, from hopefuls to outcasts,” Julius replied quickly, trying to quell the request he sensed coming. “You’d need a fleet of buses to pick them all up.”

“But what if we miss the right one?” Jada insisted.

Experience had taught Julius that when Jada adopted that tone—her demands were usually reasonable—yielding quickly was often the easiest way to resolve the issue, as he would likely give in anyway.

“Fine, have it your way,” he sighed theatrically, pulling close to the retaining wall. “But don’t give him more than half a dollar.”

“Good boy,” Jada said with a grateful smile, which quickly faded. “He did look so worn out and troubled.”

“Everyone’s troubled, and I’d rather they were all behind bars,” Julius muttered, taking a cigarette from a gold case and snapping it shut with irritation as Jada activated the dashboard lighter.

“Speaking of which, what about that ‘No Smoking’ sign back there?” Jada teased, handing him the glowing lighter.

“Damn the signs,” Julius replied, begrudgingly complying with Jada’s wishes. The thought of a tedious journey with a dusty stranger on such a sweltering day irritated him, leaving him unappeased. “They might as well burn the place down and be done with it. With the heat, the cops, the drifters, and silly signs, not to mention my mushy sister, I might as well learn to fly.”

The wanderer had come level with the vehicle and offered a friendly smile as he passed by.

“Hold on a moment,” Jada called out. “It’s a long way down the hill. Do you need a ride?”

The dusty traveler approached the car and regarded the siblings with a calm demeanor. There was neither haste nor hesitation in his actions. To the Winslows, his quiet dignity contrasted sharply with his ragged clothing and dusty visage. His calm scrutiny felt as though they were the ones being assessed rather than the other way around.

He exhibited no expectation or subservience, only poise and courtesy.

Finally, he spoke, enunciating each word with care and dignity. “I appreciate your kind offer,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of an accent, “but the bottom of the grade is not where I intend to go.”

Julius and Jada had never encountered such a voice before, rich and melodious, flowing like a beautifully crafted melody.

“Nevertheless,” the stranger continued, his voice reminiscent of a cello, “I thank you for the kind thought that prompted your offer.” With a gracious gesture, he turned to continue on his path.

Overcoming her surprise, Jada called after him, prompting him to return to the vehicle.

A slouch hat partially obscured his face. Sweat and dust further concealed his features, but both siblings caught sight of a uniquely beautiful expression in his deep blue eyes, set at a slight angle that imparted an almost exotic quality. His finely chiseled features hinted at remarkable beauty.

“But you could still use a lift, no matter where you're headed,” Jada suggested warmly.

A smile, tinged with sadness, spread across his face. In his profoundly resonant voice, he replied, “Thank you again for your kindness, but I have no specific destination. Accepting your generous offer would only lead me further along this road, leaving my situation unchanged, while you would bear the inconvenience of my less-than-ideal company.” He gestured to his shabby attire with a wry smile.

With no immediate response to his candid words, and reluctant to let him leave empty-handed in such an inhospitable environment, Jada, casting a glance at her brother, opened her purse and retrieved a dollar bill.

Julius was bewildered. The stranger was far from ordinary. His dignified demeanor, genuine friendliness, and musical voice created an impression that was hard to define.

“If we can’t offer you a ride, then surely you’ll allow us… I hope you won’t take offense if we…” Jada struggled to express herself. It felt foolish to offer money to a stranger, yet under his steady gaze, she faltered. Sensing her hesitation, he smiled gently and shook his head.

“You people place such excessive value on money, acquiring it with great effort, that I would prefer not to accept it so you may avoid any discomfort in parting with it,” he said.

“Please, don’t let me delay you any longer. I will remember your kindness and carry it as a shield against the feelings of despair and loneliness that often beset me during these long and unproductive days. There are oases in every desert, and this is no exception.” He placed his hand over his heart, extended his left hand rigidly towards the ground, saluted, and with a friendly smile, continued on his way.

“Well, I’ll be damned!” Julius exclaimed, regaining his composure. “What do you make of that?”

“I don’t know,” Jada replied, intrigued. “But we’re going to try again. He may be a character from a story, but he’s not going to speak to me like that and walk away! Start the car.”

Julius shifted into first gear.

“Better be careful,” he chuckled. “He wasn’t short of breath. I bet he has plenty more where that came from.”

Once more, the roadster pulled up alongside the wanderer. This time, Jada exited the vehicle, circled around, and stood directly in front of the traveler, who halted and regarded her with a questioning expression.

“You told us earlier that you had no destination,” she declared defiantly. “So you can’t object to our providing you with one. Get in the car, and we’ll take you there.”

Once again, the wayfarer scrutinized Jada, but this time she sensed a palpable force of character that belied his disheveled appearance.

Satisfied with her demeanor, he performed a bow that would suit an ambassador and, without a word, approached the car door, holding it open for her. Although the seat was spacious, he carefully positioned himself to the far right, making sure not to brush against her neatly tailored outfit with his dusty garments.

For a while, silence enveloped them. The roadster wound its way along the twisting road leading over the Pass's summit and down the serpentine slope, eventually stretching in a straight line between two rows of orange trees.

“My name is Winslow, Julius Winslow,” the driver finally broke the silence. “And this is my sister, Jada.”

“I am grateful for the opportunity to meet you,” the stranger replied in his rich tones. “I also wish to express my heartfelt thanks for taking on the responsibility of my company, an act dictated solely by your kindness and generosity. I hope I do not become too much of a burden, and you feel free to dismiss me at any time should I become an inconvenience.” He fell silent, gazing out at the swiftly passing orange groves.

“It’s your turn to share your name,” Julius said with slight irritation. The stranger's overly refined manners seemed at odds with his apparent circumstances.

“Certainly,” the stranger replied evenly. “My name is Fenta. Fenta Merrinee. The last name indicates location... Fenta of Merrinee. In my culture, we use a single name, with the latter part signifying one’s home or birthplace.” He shared this unusual information as if it were an everyday remark.

“Really?!” Jada exclaimed. “What a sensible concept! I’ve never heard of such a practice. You’re a foreigner, aren’t you? Where do you come from?”

“I wish I could answer that question,” he replied wistfully. “I know I may seem ungracious, but I have no choice in this matter. Regrettably, I must admit that I cannot tell you about that. Please forgive me if this appears unnecessarily rude.”

“Oh, that’s perfectly fine,” Jada assured him quickly. Some of Julius's frustration began to echo in her own gentler spirit. “No one could accuse you of being discourteous.” She instantly regretted the sarcasm when she encountered the stranger’s innocent inquiry.

“Never mind. It doesn’t matter,” Julius interjected. “Many people have entered this country informally. In any case, my sister has taken you under her wing, and she never makes mistakes. I’m sure you won’t be the exception that proves the rule.”

“The reference is unclear to me, but I appreciate your confidence,” replied their passenger, somewhat perplexed. “Surely rules have exceptions… by definition?” he added after a moment's thought.

Julius cast him a questioning look.

“By definition is indeed correct, but it’s a difficult concept to convey to my students. How much of what we call truth is based on its definition? I sometimes wonder if mortals can know any truth beyond what exists by consensus… ‘by definition,’ so to speak.”

“I see that you are a philosopher,” the wanderer smiled.

“No, merely a mathematician,” Julius responded. “I teach mathematics at the university. Quite a thankless task, really.”

“But one leads to the other,” observed Fenta. “The cosmos is a Mind composed of interconnected ideas. Studying relationships, which you call mathematics, inevitably leads to this conclusion.”

Julius, being an expert in his field, had grown wary of those who employed scientific jargon without proper credentials.

“It’s interesting,” their guest continued, “that individuals can, with rare exceptions, specialize in just one area to the exclusion of others. We might be on the verge of a new era where seemingly disparate pursuits in the quest to understand the cosmos—from the infinitesimally small to the grandeur of galactic structures—may converge and inform one another, leading to the birth of new ideas and paradigms, perhaps even illuminating the source of all ideas in the connective patterns.”

Fenta noticed Julius's stern expression.

“Of course, I am not speaking from a position that would either validate my remarks or lend them emphasis.”

Julius listened intently to the cultured language and flawless diction of Fenta’s speech. Indeed, Fenta’s clarity of thought and choice of words, combined with his vibrant voice, were captivating. Trying to maintain a facade of indifference, Julius responded with a laugh, “Oh, not at all. You’re spot on. But in my field, I’ve found that a single lifetime barely scratches the surface. Anyone wanting to travel far along this road has little time for anything else.”

“Perhaps Mr. Fenta knows as much about your sines and cosines as you do, Ph.D. notwithstanding,” Jada chimed in. “What do you think, Mr. Fenta?”

“Just Fenta, Miss Winslow,” he corrected gently. “We don’t use titles. Everyone has a name and is addressed by it. However, in response to your question, I happen to have expertise in that area, among others, or else I wouldn’t have dared to express myself as I did.”

“Really? Now that ‘among others’ piques my curiosity,” Julius remarked dryly. “May I inquire what the others are?”

“The study of force acting upon matter,” Fenta replied. “The exploration of radiation’s nature and application, the interaction of various forms of matter, the…”

“Hold on a minute,” Julius interrupted. “I take it you include physics, chemistry, electricity, and electronics in your list of subjects. What about medicine, biology, or astronomy?”

“Certainly astronomy,” Fenta replied quietly, disregarding the sarcasm. “I would have struggled in my work without that. As for the other sciences you mentioned, I know little, having only spent a limited time on each.”

“And where, might I ask,” Julius pressed sharply, “did you conduct these extensive studies?”

“If by ‘where’ you refer to the locations of the institutions where I studied, I regret to say that I cannot enlighten you,” Fenta replied in the same calm tone. “Their names hold little significance for you, yet there’s no reason for you not to hear them. My studies in astronomy, physics, and mathematics were undertaken at the University of Merrinee. Chemistry and other sciences were studied at the Universities of Brahl and Lazanne.”

“Never heard of them,” Julius remarked coldly. “But I am familiar with Pacific Colony…”

Pacific Colony was a California institution for the mentally challenged located in Spadra.

He glanced at Fenta as he spoke and suddenly stopped. Beneath the thick layer of dust, Fenta's face turned a shade of grey. Abruptly, Fenta opened the car door. Julius slammed on the brakes, and Jada lunged, grabbing the top of the door and pulling it back to shut it forcefully.

“You fool!” Jada exploded. “You lack even the basics of decency and courtesy. If you don’t believe him, don’t ask questions. If people like Fenta lived at Pacific Colony, I’d gladly go there myself. Now shut up and drive us home.”

Fenta sat as still as a statue, gazing straight ahead. His hands rested on his thighs as Jada grasped his right hand, offering comfort. Julius attempted a few apologies, but they fell flat. Meanwhile, Jada was swept by waves of pity for this gentle, vulnerable soul who, in his turmoil, seemed almost catatonic. It would have boded ill for anyone, even her brother, who chose that moment to confront her charge. The depth of her feelings was unfathomable; she only knew that this individual, regardless of his state of mind, needed her protection—protection of a kind and quality she had never encountered before. Crazy or sane, she was determined to ensure no harm befell this friendless being.

© 2020 Please proceed to Chapter Two https://readmedium.com/the-journey-of-the-dusty-wanderer-2d21f5e7d659