Part V - Trouble at Ye Olde Parallel Narrative
About five feet up from another one of his early graves, and customarily with only one more foot to go, One-Eye-Jim was tired of eating dirt.
Sure, those weaklings in Texas kept telling him that he only had to dig, that eating the dirt was completely pointless...but who's dead now, texas weaklings? That's right, the texas weaklings. Although, he was fairly grateful for the layer of topsoil he was currently ingesting; sixty pounds of clay is hard to keep down. And with unrivaled tenacity, he kept on eating.
With unrivaled tenacity, the Wizard waited...stared at the stone...and hoped.
Jim hoped that he was close. He hadn't breathed air in nearly five hours...heh, that was another thing the weaklings had preached, breathing.
The breath was caught in the Wizard's throat. He watched as the ground stirred, then rumbled, then erupted in a shower of debris...and when the cloud of dust cleared, he knew he had not been led astray. The man he'd waited so many years for was emerging, face first, out of the very earth below him.
Jim emerged, finally, coughing up a stone which had been laid atop his grave.
The stone landed at the Wizard's feet. Ecstatic, the Wizard cried, "The stone of Anadarko! The prophecy is complete!"
Completely oblivious to the old man behind him, jumping around and shouting of stones, One-Eye-Jim adjusted his eyepatch, knocked the dirt out of his ears, and for the first time, heard the shouts and ramblings of an old man who seemed to be wearing a halloween costume.
"Ugh, where am I? California?"