The wizard (sometimes known as Rick) and the demi-god (sometimes known as LoDi) were making their way to a conference on Super Natural Power Brokerage, being held at the Mystic Hills Resort and Conference Center at the far side of the forest.

The two bounced along an unmarked trail, riding in a Gator RSX high performance off road utility vehicle that Rick (the wizard) had conjured up at the beginning of their journey.

As with most wizards, he was old, cantankerous and did not like long walks. Fortunately, as with most wizards, he had a magic wand that could make really cool things happen — like an ATV appearing out of nowhere — with a gas tank that never ran dry (very important when two-tracking through an enchanted forest).

“Are we there yet?” asked LoDi, weary of riding shotgun on an endless sojourn to the other side of the never-ending woodland. “When do I get to drive?”

“When we stop for gas, next,” yelled the wizard over the triumphant howl of terrain domination, brought on by internal combustion and rubber vulcanization.

“That’s a basket of prairie chips,” bellowed the easy to aggravate demi-god. “This thing will never run out of gas. Give it up. It’s my turn to drive.”

“I summoned this beast from rocks and stones,” barked the wizard as the pair bounced between the ruts and roots that were slowly reclaiming the trail. “By the powers gained from untold ages of studying the mystic secrets of the universe, I transformed dust and rubble into this Hesperian chariot — equipped with a 63 horse power, 4-stroke engine, featuring bucket seats and the all-important power steering option. I built it — therefore, I drive it. It’s in the Code.”

“I don’t care what the book says,” growled the demi-god, as his growing agitation (and hemorrhoids) caused ominous storm clouds and deafening thunderbolts to gather overhead. “My butt is getting sore. Let me drive!”

“I have half a mind to turn you into a…” the wizard began his snarled response.”

“You don’t have half a mind,” the demi-god interrupted by snarling back. “You lost it to the elves when they dulled your senses with the promise of cookies.”

Granted, it was a feeble affront, but it brought a self-satisfying grin to LoDi’s face, causing the circling storm clouds to abate — until the inevitable arrival of the next verbal jousting match. In spite of the ever-present bickering, the two were actually good friends — in an “I-will-never-admit-you-are-right” sort of way.

“What in the name of What’s His Name’s Mother-in Law is that?” The wizard called out as he mashed down on the brakes, stirring up dust, rocks, and unsuspecting insects. The Gator careened to a stop and the pair turned to their right to gape at an unknown barbican that loomed beyond an opening in the trees.

“I give up. What is it?” LoDi did not like having to admit to the wizard when he didn’t know something, but it was obvious Rick was just as baffled, bewildered and/or befuddled. “That thing is big,” LoDi understated, colossally.

The two gazed through an opening in the forest canopy at a towering edifice, ascending above the trees, into the clouds, and off beyond sight. It was a slender, cylindrical, brick structure that (as stated earlier) was really, really, REALLY tall.

Larry Wilson is a mostly lifelong resident of Niles. His essays stem from experiences, compilations and recollections from friends and family. He can be reached at wflw@hotmail.com