The photographs of National Book Award winner Morris have received accelerating attention recently (Conversations With Wright Morris, p. 72), and here he chooses to meld two events--the young wife of a novelist runs off with a house painter and a tornado scoops up a good-sized hunk of town--by tilting the ""craziest happenings"" into crisscrossing camera perspectives of time, light, and magnitude. The Space Project, a slide projection show of space views accompanied by 2001 sound and patronized mainly by young backpackers, is shaman-ed by Harry, house-mate of painter Dahlberg, and these seem to be the two sole inhabitants of ghost town Fork River, which was visited by a twister during WW II. But attending the show is just one occasion for narrator-novelist Kelcey to meddle with mysteries: he speculates on the nature of a twister which could dig in and keep on digging; he ponders Dahlberg's double-track fictional past; he ruminates on the eruption of football mania in what was a glacier-caused canyon. As Kelcey at home and on the trail Elides in and out of time-warp, everything and anything seems possible--whether UFOs or a departing wife--if you're waiting, like the cave primates, or the inhabitants of Fork River, or maybe Kelcey, for something to happen. Wildly fanciful and written in a drum-head tattoo of economical imagery ("". . . the funnel shape up on the horizon, dipping and swaying, or a pillarlike column that is almost transparent, like a rain falling""), this flying object takes a chapter or two to get on board, but then you'll travel wondrously fast and far.