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Ares
by Gary E Girod
Scarecrow
by Dave Fragments
Unique
by Elliot Richard Dorfman
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Click here to add text.April- May- June 2009 Issue #6 ISSN NO. 1942-4450
Click here tBio: Gary E. Girod is a junior at Chapman University in Orange County, working toward his Ph.D in European History, with hopes to become a professor. While passionate about history, he loves literature of all kinds. This is his first publication.
Ares
by Gary E. Girod
Nathan Peterson stood in line anxiously, his eyes scanning the cheering crowds that had gathered around the procession before him. The other pilgrims waved their arms and smiled as they marched toward the space craft. The 999 other travelers could not have been happier, and Nathan toyed with the idea that some of these people had signed up to colonize the newly terra-formed planet Ares just so that they could have this moment.
Nathan’s eyes tore away from his fellows and began to search the crowds, looking for anyone suspicious. His eyes fixed on a dark-haired man in a trench coat, who seemed to be staring at him coldly. Nathan nearly froze mid-step. They wouldn’t shoot me now, would they? The Algerian Kings wouldn’t draw the attention of the government…
A child jumped at his side, and pulled on the man’s arm. The man lifted his child onto hisshoulders, and for a brief moment the scene was almost too innocent.
Nathan swallowed. Keep walking. One hour and I’ll be leaving all my problems behind me. That’s what it says in the brochure.
He gazed down at the pamphlet in his hands, a pamphlet which invited anyone of a specific talent or profession to begin the colonization of new planets. A short list had gone out for people capable of mastering the newly hospitable world…somehow he managed to lie his way onto thatlist.
One hour.
His eyes turned to the police working crowd control. What if the labs picked up his DNA?What if they caught him?
One long hour.
After a few minutes of shuffling all of the passengers inside the Stargazer II were buckled and strapped to their seats. There were no windows in the cabin and Nathan began to feel claustrophobic.
Not now! Anytime but now! Nathan tried to push the thoughts away. He began to berate himself, telling himself how stupid this whole thing was.
It began two weeks ago. The Algerian Kings, a mafia-like organization that had appeared in America over the last two decades, had called his house telling him to meet at a certain secluded place to discuss his outstanding debt. Nathan knew his payments to the group were too little and too late, and the Kings weren’t exactly the forgiving kind.
Nathan had done what any man in his right mind would have: He ran. But not far enough.
In an out-of-the way hotel two thugs caught up to him. Nathan had expected them and in the struggle he even managed to kill one of them before the other got away.
Just before the incident he had signed up to be a colonizer of Ares, just as a last resort. After the mobster’s death he knew he had to leave Earth. There wasn’t one safe spot left for him.
So, he waited with trepidation, praying that the day of the flight would occur without any interference from the Kings or the law enforcement. He almost wanted to laugh. If the police were to find the body and extract any of his DNA from the crime scene then they would have to keep him off the flight for questioning, and even if they found him innocent of all charges he would still be a dead man, left defenseless against the mob while his one hope for life raced toward the next arm of the Milky Way galaxy.
Sitting inside the Stargazer II he tried to think about anything but his life on Earth, and thetiny metal capsule he was imprisoned in. Around him, the cabin buzzed with excited conversation. Nathan tried to drone them out as he waited for-
“Liftoff in 10”
Here it is!
“9…8…7…6…”
Nathan clenched his fists.
“5…4…3…”
Madly he swung his head around, half-expecting a cop or a gang member to be holding a gun to his face.
“2…1…”
Without any windows, Nathan couldn’t see the takeoff, but his mind painted a better picture than reality. The rockets roared at the ship’s base and the passengers felt the rumble as the ship blasted millions of microscopic particles and molecules out of the way as it charged like a bullet toward the silent vacuum of empty space. Nathan imagined that every member of the Algerian Kings gazing up at a quickly fading dot in the sky angrily. And behind them detectives stared at the man who got away, knowing full well that any report they filed would be useless. No Congressman would authorize spending billions of dollars even if the person he murdered turned out to be the President of Earth! Even the government wasn’t that wasteful.
Just then, the captain of the flight issued an announcement welcoming the passengers to outerspace, which drew a hearty round of applause, and welcomed them to rise from their seats as the artificial gravity activated.
Around him, tears were being shed, cries of joy and relief echoed from men and women who might have been living the most meaningless lives in the history of the planet, yet, just by being on this flight, they had become part of something important. For the first time Nathan smiled. He was one of them. He unbuckled his seat and was about to introduce himself to a group of people that had gathered to his left when he felt something in his breast-pocket.
Curious, he pulled forth the brochure on Ares and read the familiar title: “Ares: Leave All Your Problems Behind You!” For a moment, he could not believe he had ever agreed to such an outrageous idea as the colonization of a new planet. Looking down at the picture of the new world on the cover he frowned.
A strange though crept into his head, and he glanced at the people around him. I wonder what these people are running from…o add text.
Click here to adDave Fragments is a scientist with writing fantasy, horror and science fiction as with heterogeneous catalysis and ISO-14001. His short stories have been published by The Tiny Globule, Yankee Pot Roast and Darkened Horizons issue 6 along with a poem in the Winter issue of Flashquake.
Scarecrow
by Dave Fragments
A cold wind from the advancing storm turned the canvas truck covers into sails and set the barn doors flapping.
"The horses'll kick the stalls apart," Jeb yelled.
"Settle them and close the barns. We'll finish the harvest." Kakashi De Carteret and his ranch hands scurried between the flatbeds and the long-haul trucks to load crops. The combines and their attending trucks turtled through the fields. One-by-one ranch hands filled the trucks and split off to deliver the crop to market. A convoy headed out to the highway with the last harvest of the year. Kakashi secured the equipment and outbuildings before the rain spilled over gutters and rain barrels. A bolt of lightning struck the main transformer and crossed between it and the heavens eight times, day strobed night to day. The transformer burst into flaming oil and toppled in a shower of sparks. Power flickered and went out all over the ranch. Kakashi sprinted through the rain to the horse barn. Jeb greeted him with a lantern.
"Should I spend the night out here?"
"No, This storm's blowing itself out. Let's eat first then ride to the north fields." They jogged through the rain to the main house's veranda.
"I'm to wet to go inside."
"We can leave our wet clothing in the mud room. I don't want to eat alone."
"Thanks Mister De Cartaret." Jeb squeezed the water from his jacket, the muscles of his bare arms rippled.
"It's Kakashi. You lived up to your moniker today city-boy. A real boot-scootin, ropin', shootin' ragtime cowboy Jeb. Consider yourself my partner and not a hired hand." Kakashi hooked the heel of his boot on a bootjack and lifted his foot out of it. Kakashi dried his head and left the towel over one shoulder. The man was built like an oak, thick waist, heavy thighs, barrel-like torso. A dark green tattoo vined up right leg, encircled his olive-colored torso and wound around his right arm. It resembled a kudzu vine. "Yanno, for a Jeb, you look like a city boy, all gym-muscled up, fast talking and computer savvy. Why you want to become a farmer?"
"I got tired of the city. That's sounds clichéd but living in a concrete cave, eating week old food, breathing fumes and all that. That's not the way I want to live." Jeb wrapped a towel around his waist and squeezed the excess water from his pants and socks into the sink.
"How did you come to be named Jebidiah Wales?" Kakashi hung his clothes on the hooks to dry.
"My mother's great, great, great uncle was Jeb Stuart. I used to remind her that his real name was James Ewell Brown Stuart not Jebidiah Stuart but she'd just shush me. My Dad's a Wallesinksi, shortened to Wales. Do you mind if I ask how you got the name Kakashi? You're not Japanese. You're American Indian, aren't you?" He toweled his legs dry.
"European, French father and Scottish mother, my birth certificate says Kentigern De Carteret."
"Mungo? Aw Dude, it must have been hell growing up Mungo."
"Common name back in Scotland. De Carteret caused the grief. Stood out like a heaping pile of cow flops. The French and the Scots, well let's just say, no one likes the French. My family immigrated to America and I took the name scarecrow when the Mohicans made me a member of the tribe. I lived in Japan for a decade after I left the Mohawks. Kakashi means scarecrow."
"Adopted by Mohicans?"
"One day I'll tell you stories of cattle rustlers and horse thieves. Right now, Grab two beers and go start the gas fireplace in the parlor. I'll get dry clothes." Kakashi brushed the remaining dirt off his bare feet and went into the house wearing only his tattoo.
"You're the boss." Jeb hung his towel on a hook. His bare feet made squeaky noises on the wooden floor. In the parlor, nineteenth-century tables, a horsehair-stuffed settee and mahogany framed sofa sat in front of the gas fireplace. The fabrics looked period authentic. He set the beer on the floor and knelt in front of the fireplace to light it. Kakashi walked into the room with two bundles of black clothing and two pair boots.
"These'll warm you up. I was going to give them to you tomorrow but since we're both buck naked and shivering, now's as good a time as any. My gift to a new partner." Kakashi set the clothing on the sofa and separated it into two piles. The fabric's rough weave and hand stitching caught Jeb's eye. Knitted socks, rough woven chambray shirt, a union suit with a backdoor and cinched waist, all with ties instead of buttons and zippers. Each piece bore his full name in neat, embroidered letters.
"These are handmade."
"Authentic to the early 1800's, just before Levi Strauss put rivets to canvas. The cloth is waterproof and doesn't scratch. Canvas scratches." Kakashi pull the union suit up over his legs. It fit snug and hugged his body. The drawstring made his abs stand out. Jeb stepped into his pair and wondered if his body looked as good as Kakashi's. He pulled the union suit over his hips and waist and then he sat down to stretch the socks onto his feet. The knitting teased his toes. He pulled the top of the union suit over his shoulders and checked the back flap.
"It takes a little practice but you can slide the pants down and take a dump out on the range." Kakashi offered.
"Not too much practice, I hope." Jeb and Kakashi shared a laugh. He pulled the gray chambray shirt up his arms and fastened the ties. The shirt made him feel bigger, stronger. He pulled the canvas jeans up and tied the rope-like drawstring. He moved with ease as he tied his pants legs and stepped into the plain western style boots. They came halfway up to his knee. A bandana covered the exposed part of his neck. Even new, the clothing looked worn out and well weathered. Jeb pulled the oilskin duster coat on and folded his arms. He knew he looked good. The outfit refreshed.
"You don't look like no city boy anymore. Now all you need is to spend a year or two living off the land. Then you'll be a real cowboy or farmer whatever you want to be. That's what the Mohawks taught me."
"You dress your scarecrows like this, all gray and old-like." Jeb took a drink of his beer.
"The apprenticeship lasts seven years and I have seven scarecrows. When you leave, you'll leave these clothes behind."
"Scarecrows seemed to be country clowns. But that's my urban upbringing." Kakashi leaned back and stroked his chin with one hand.
"Clowns? Ridi, Pagliacco... Laugh through the tears? Nah, that's not a scarecrow. I tried to tell Leo but he didn't listen." Before Jeb could ask what Kakashi meant, he spoke again. "The Mohawks considered scarecrows stewards of the land, protector of the crops, guardians of the seasons." He switched off the fireplace and walked to the kitchen.
"I got some sandwiches and milk. I'm going to break you of that carbonated crap you drink in cans." Kakashi pointed to a pile of sandwiches wrapped in waxed paper. They made small talk as they ate. The chill in the kitchen didn't bother Jeb. The cold meal satisfied and the milk tasted richer than any he drank. Kakashi looked out the window.
"Storm's blown over. Moon's up. Time we got the horses and make for the north field, The Mohawks called these scarecrow seeds." Kakashi poured a dozen or so seeds into Jeb's hand. He tasted one, then gobbled the rest and licked the salt from his lips.
"Tangy, what are they?" Jeb fished his finger in the jar and munched another handful.
"Great Indian Secret, kudzu seeds." Kakashi opened the door and stuck his head out. A clear sky and full moon greeted him. Cold, clear air touched their faces. The trees swayed as a steady wind pushed the storm to the east. The breeze carried the woodsy, fragrant scent of fields and new mown hay.
"...Came fast and left faster. This is the moon between the Harvest and Hunter moons; the Great Spirit moon come to visit."
"It's beautiful out here. This here's why I gave up city life," Jeb said. He followed Kakashi down the path. In the stable, Kakashi threw a blanket on his horse, grabbed the mane and jumped on the horses back. Jeb hesitated for a moment.
"I never rode bareback or without a bit." Jeb threw a blanket on the other horse and jumped on its back.
"Riding bareback is easy. Trust the horse, Jeb. The horse your friend." Kakashi's hands and heels made light touches and the horse walked out of the barn without a fuss. Jeb imitated his actions and followed him into the fields. Kakashi galloped and Jeb followed. They made a circuit of the fields nearest the farmhouse, stopping at each to view the remains of the harvest and the pristine beauty of the fields washed clean by the storm. Kakashi stuffed with hay and made them ready for winter. He told Jeb that each scarecrow should last seven years.
"It takes seven years to make a good man. Seven years to learn the land, to become part of it. Seven years to guard the land from harm," Kakashi said. Deeply philosophic, thought Jeb. They rode toward the final field.
The seventh scarecrow looked all of its seven years of wear from rain, snow, sun and wind. A branch grew out of its neck, small plants lived in the folds and creases of its duster, a thin, emaciated body held together with abandoned nests of songbirds. Vines grew out of the legs, winding their way around the supporting post like the tattoos on Kakashi's body. Jeb could see the pale gray union suit like he wore peaking through the holes in the canvas jeans, the tattered ties on the sleeves of the chambray shirt, the faded leather boots and drooping hat.
"Time to retire this scarecrow. It's watched and guarded this land for seven years. Help me take it down." Jeb climbed on the fence rails and then up the post to get to the stand the crosspiece that the scarecrow stood on. He hefted the scarecrow. It weighed more than he imagined but no so much as a man. Kakashi climbed the fence to reach grab the straw man. Jeb swung it down and let it land on Kakashi's shoulder. Kakashi laughed and set the scarecrow to the ground. It seemed to move but it was only weeds and straw.
"Didn't think my first job would be replacing scarecrows." Jeb joked.
"While you're up there, clean the weeds off the top of the post? I'll clean the base." The moon was high in the sky, all pale and blue smiling down at their endeavors. Jeb cleaned the post and stood on one of the supports. He swung his body up onto the higher crossbar in one easy motion. He heard the gasp from below.
"Too bad this isn't braced. I could show you a few highbar spins and releases that almost defy gravity."
"And maybe fall trying."
"Nah, I did gymnastics in high school." Jeb grinned and tugged his hat tight. He rested his arms over the crossbar and lifted his body into a handstand. He held it for a moment, then lowered himself and stood like the scarecrow, arms akimbo, legs on either side of the post and back tight against the post. "This is one helluva view for a plain old scarecrow. I'll stay here while you fix that scarecrow." Below him, Kakashi chanted, a monotonic Indian chant from the forgotten past. Jeb pulled the bandana up over his face, squared his feet on the stand and relaxed against the post. One hundred, maybe two hundred acres of field and fences sprawled before him. Ten-foot round rolls of hay punctuated the field, irrigation pipes and fences marked the boundaries. A few windbreak trees and rock mounds decorated the field in a random jumble. Watching felt so natural. He dreamed of the land.
A soft breeze brought him to attention. He didn't know how long he daydreamed but the moon was low on the horizon. Vines bound Jeb's hands to the crossbar, strapped his head to the post, wound around his neck and under his collar. The thick vine at the base of the pole had grown halfway up his left leg. Jeb felt thin tendrils slipping across his body, over his chest, between his legs. Something told him that this vine would never leave his body. It would around him just like the tattoo that wound around Kakashi's body. Two men stood at his feet. Kakashi and a younger man dressed in the well-worn clothing of the scarecrow they taken from the perch only moments before.
"What's happened?" Jeb asked, twisting on his perch.
"The Mohawks made me a scarecrow after they caught me stealing horses. That was two centuries ago. The seeds you ate took root on the ride here. It will grow inside you, make you part of the land." Jeb pulled against the vines binding his body but it held him tight. He leaned forward, but the vines pulled him back.
"Time to learn the ways of the Great Spirit as you guard his bounty," Kakashi said. Jeb felt the vines growing inside his body, changing him, transforming him. He grew lighter, less substantial. His skin felt as dry as the hay that now formed his body. Straw bunched where biceps, triceps and strong forearms once existed. Vines filled his torso as his legs withered into hay.
"You will learn as the ancient warriors learned from the spirits of old. You are the harvest offering, made in the full moon, dedicated to the land. In times past, a brave would dress in ceremonial robes, consume the seeds and stand in a tree while the vines bound him to the land. Many braves let the wind take their bodies and never returned to this world. That will not be your fate. I will return each spring and fall to keep you in good repair."
Kakashi helped the man with him onto the horse. Straw and rags poked from the clothing. The scarecrow smiled at him with bright, clear eyes. He sat on Jeb's horse. A trade of one man for another. Kakashi and his apprentice rode away like all good cowboys, into the setting moon, horses tails swishing..
Jeb watched the moon sink and the sun rise, the first night of many nights. As the seasons passed, Jeb understood what it meant to grow in the spring, ripen in the summer, become the fall harvest and die in the winter. The spirits of the Mohawks visited him, extolling him to join the spirits and forsake his flesh completely. But each spring and summer, Kakashi returned to repair his stuffing, keep him strong and remind him of his humanity. He remained apprenticed to Kakashi for seven years before he got the chance to start his own farm and teach his own apprentices.
d text.
Brief Bio:
Elliot Richard Dorfman taught in the New York City School System for more than three decades, as well as giving private vocal and piano lessons. He founded Suma Play Productions, Inc., and was artistic director of the American Youth Repertory Company, Off Broadway. After retiring, he moved with his family from the borough of Brooklyn to Johnstown, New York. Among his successful former students are American tenor, Daniel Rodriguez, and character actress, Kelly Wolf. Mr. Dorfman, a former member of the NY Dramatist Guild and Associated Music teachers League, has appeared and written for radio and television. His plays (dramas and musicals) have been presented on the professional stage, schools and centers. Forty-eight recent short stories have or will be published in the following magazines: Delivered, Twisted Dreams, Bewildering Stories, Golden Visions, Static Movement, NVH, The Tiny Globule, Perpetual, Black Petals, Blood Moon Rising, Demonic Tome, Short Story Library Magazine,StoriesThatLift.com, M-Brane Sicence Fiction, Coffee Cramp eZine. Poems have appeared in Falling Star, Orange Room Review, Debris, and Golden Visions.
For specifics go to: elrite.webs.com
“UNIQUE”
by
Elliot Richard Dorfman
On a quiet September morning, about twenty-five years ago, an infant boy was found on the steps of the police station in the small town of Plainsview, Vermont. The baby was wrapped in an iridescent blanket and placed in a semi-transparent plastic-like box. There were no identifying papers on him.
“I’ve never seen such a beautiful infant,” remarked the social worker that was assigned to him. Photographs and fingerprints were taken, but the search came up with nothing. Eventually, this infant was adopted by a popular local lawyer, Stanley Barrington and his wife, Gramilda. They were thrilled since they had no children of their own. They named the boy Joshua.
From the beginning, Joshua keenly observed everything he saw. His big brown eyes would widen with curiosity whenever he newly discovered something. Well tempered and a good natured, even the grouchiest person was drawn to his infectious smile.
Joshua began walking at two months old, and was able to fluently talk by the time he was six months. Not only did he have a superior memory, but could easily comprehend most things taught to him. Then at thirteen, he began doing some strange things such as levitating objects and make things appear and vanish. It was all a joke to him, but these things worried his parents. When they asked him how he did it, Joshua shrugged and said he had no idea.
Joshua graduated high school with top honors when he turned sixteen. A short time later, he took some money his parents had hidden in the house.
“I took the money because I want to travel and explore the world on my own, “ he wrote in a note. “ I’ll be back in about a year. Please don’t go looking for me. It’s something that I must do.”
“What’s gotten into Joshua?” Gramilda asked. “ How much can he learn about the world in only a year? Besides, he’s too young to go traveling alone. It’s not safe. We should immediately call the authorities.”
“Joshua is not the average teenager. With his bright mind, he will learn more than most people who explored this world for a life time,” her husband wisely responded. “As for worrying about his being safe, I ‘m positive he’ll be able to look out for himself.”
A few days before Joshua returned from his exploration, Stanley had a strange dream. He was walking on Main Street before dawn. Of course, at that hour, the place was deserted. Suddenly, he saw a huge silver sphere unsteadily hoovering in the star swept sky. A wide beam of white light coming from the ship lowered a semi-clear box containing a baby onto the steps of the police station. Afterward, the sphere shot up in the outer atmosphere where it burst into flames and disintegrated. Stanley woke up with a start.
“That dream was just a figment of my imagination," he rationalized.
One year later, on a crisp autumn morning, Joshua walked into the house. He looked very thin and pale.
“It’s a brutal world out there,” Joshua gloomily said as he unpacked his few belongings. “It’s much worse than I thought it would be. While humans have the capacity to be a positive force on this fragile earth, all I observed was indifference and destruction.”
Joshua went upstairs and laid down on his bed. His head sank into the pillow as his body relaxed on the crisp sheets. It felt so good to be back home. He yawned, covered himself with the large quilt blanket, and fell asleep.
The teenager slept for more than ten hours. He awoke to the pleasant odor of the food his mother was cooking. “It’s so good to be home with you two again,” Josh said as he sat down at the table. Gramilda was pleased to see her son eat large portions of everything she placed in front of him. After finishing, Josh gave her a big kiss on the cheek. Contentedly, he sat down near the window and watched as the breeze tossed the multicolored leaves from the branches onto the ground.
The Barrington’s house was next to the forest. The closest neighbor was at least a mile away. Sometime during the night, two drunken hunters, forced open a window and broke into the house. These unkempt, muscular men were mean even when sober, but their cruel nature became magnified when they drank. As soon as they broke in, they began laughing and swearing, turning over everything in their path. Gramilda woke up and heard the noise. She walked downstairs into the living room where the bigger of the two stumbled over to her and ripped off her nightgown. Suddenly hands crushed down on his shoulders. Picked up as if he were light as a feather, the intruder saw a huge ghoulish creature with glowing yellow eyes staring at him. This creature, or whatever it was, immediately tossed him out of the front door. Then, with astonishing speed, the same action was repeated with the drunkard’s pal. Terrified, the two men got up from the ground and ran away as fast as they could. During this interlude, Stan, who had followed his wife, huddled with her in a corner. When it was all over, they watched in amazement as the creature turned to them, smiled, nodded his head and vanished.
About ten minutes later, Josh walked in, looked around and whistled. “What happened here?”
The young man’s eyes widened as Gramilda explained to him what had happened.
“I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s true,” his father added.
Josh looked upset. “That’s exactly what happened in the nightmare I just had, only I was the one who willed the monster to appear after seeing one of those drunken idiots break into the house and try attacking Mom.”
“It seems I’m not the only one in this family who has had strange dreams,” Stan said under his breath.
“What did you say, dear?” Gramilda asked.
“It can wait. Let’s all go to bed. We’ll talk about it in the morning. I’ll just make sure the door and windows are securely locked.”
But Stan could not easily fall asleep again that night. He kept wondering if his adopted son could actually have willed that creature to materialize. If so, what other kind of awesome power did he have? Was it possible that his own dream had actually happened? Could Joshua be an alien?
In the morning, the sun shone brightly through the dinning room window as the family sat down to breakfast.
Joshua smiled at his dad. “ I bet you’ve been doing a lot of thinking, huh?”
Stan nodded his head. “I’m afraid that . . . ”
His son cut him off. “You’re afraid the reason that I have all these strange powers is because I am an alien.”
“Oh, stop teasing your father,” Gramilda said as she served the pancakes.
“How could you know what I was thinking? ” Stan nervously asked his son.
Joshua poured himself a glass of orange juice. “Because, as I recently found out, I am an alien!”
Gramilda dropped the serving platter of pancakes onto the table. “What!”
Joshua walked over to his parents and affectionately took them around.
“Oh, it’s not at all bad as the two of you think. Let me explain . . .”
“I was on a road in Inyo County, California, hitchhiking to Independence. A strange looking silver car pulled up near me. A friendly looking man with snowy white hair, offered me a ride. My gut feelings told me it was safe, so I got in. A few miles later, the car stopped at a dinner. The driver offered to buy me lunch.
Low on funds,I was happy that he made the offer. We went into the dinner and sat down at the last booth near the window. When the waitress came, he looked at the menu and did the ordering for both of us, knowing exactly what I wanted. Obviously this was no ordinary man.
‘Who are you?’ I asked him after the waitress left.
‘My name is Talbert and I am from the planet Arix, located in a galaxy billions of light years from earth.
My first reaction was that he was joking. But he was serious. ‘Some of your biological ancestors came from there.’
‘This guy has got to be a kook,’ I thought and got up. He signaled me to sit down.
‘Don’t be so judgmental. What would people think if you told them about the creature you materialized last night?’
‘How do you know about that?’ I asked, returning to my seat.
‘I know a lot about you. You are not the only person in the universe with such powers. May I continue now without any more interruptions?’
‘Sorry, about that,’ I sheepishly replied.
‘My people are scientifically advanced, and are able to travel anywhere in the universe. One of our spaceships reached your solar system and landed on earth six hundred years ago. The three members of the crew were amazed to discover that earth was almost identical to our planet, even down to the biological structure of its human species. Unfortunately, when they finished their exploration and tried leaving this planet, the spaceship malfunctioned and began burning as it took off. The crew had no choice but to get out and settle on earth.
They found the society here was backward when compared to their own, but the explorers managed to blend in as best as they could. Sometimes they would use their powers that earthlings considered supernatural and get into trouble. They were considered to be agents of the devil. Two of them were killed because of that. The other, a female, survived and eventually married an earthling and remained undetected. Knowledge of her origin was secretly passed on to each generation of her offspring. Then, about eighteen years ago, another exploratory space ship came to earth to discover what had happened to the first craft. Traveling from such a long distance took many earth years, and the crew aboard was put in suspended animation until the ship reached your solar system. Unfortunately, by the time they arrived, the original explorers were long dead.
After carefully searching, they found only one living descendant and her infant child. Her name was Marlene Castor, and she lived in Ohio. Her husband had been killed in a motorcycle accident shortly after the baby was born. Although young, he had left her a good life insurance policy, so she had enough money to manage. After meeting the crew and talking with them, she consented to return with her baby to Arix. The ship took off, but like its predecessor, critical problems occurred. There was just enough time to save the baby and return him back to earth. Right before the disaster, a quick message was sent to the sister ship which was cruising in another galaxy.
I am the Captain of that sister ship, and you, Joshua, were that baby. It’s taken my ship eighteen years to reach earth. My craft is waiting in Death Valley to bring you back to Arix.’
I shook my head. ‘Earth has been my home all my life. I won’t leave it.’
Talbert sat back. ‘Well, that’s your decision to make.’
After the waitress served us the food, Talbert began telling me about the Arix. It’s a planet that has progressed into what we would call utopia. He told me not to worry about my powers because in time I would naturally know how to use them on earth. When we finished eating, he drove me the rest of the way to Independence and left. ”
Stan and Gramilda remained silent. It wasn’t easy to believe such a story. Yet after the events of last night, they knew it must be true.
“So, what happens now?” Stan asked his son.
“We go on living life as usual. I’ve decided to become a lawyer like you and eventually go into politics. It’s the best way I can be effective. Attending college and getting the appropriate degrees and certifications shouldn’t take me too much time.”
So life continued normally. Joshua enrolled at Norwich University, where he easily sailed through the undergraduate courses, and obtained his law degree at Vermont Law School in South Royalton at the age of twenty-one. Joining his father’s firm, he quickly gained the reputation as one of the best young lawyers in the state. Of course, Stan and Gramilda couldn’t have been prouder.
One late Spring afternoon, just as Joshua and Stan were ready to leave the office, Joshua made a suggestion to his dad.
“Pop, I’ve been thinking. You should go into politics. You are intelligent, very well liked, and have the stamina that it takes.”
"But, Joshua, aren’t you the one that wants to go into that?”
“I need some more experience. I could start off by helping you in your campaign.”
Stan, who was active in the local Democratic Party, had been recently asked if he wanted to be a candidate for state senator.
Josh smiled.
“Well, if I do decide to take a stab at it, I want you to promise me you won’t use any of your powers to help me win. That would be unfair.”
Josh groaned. “I would never do that, Pop, I do have ethics.”
“Okay, okay,” his father quickly answered. “ Don’t get upset. I just want to make sure.”
Stan was a natural speaker and easy to relate to. His son helped him wage a brilliant campaign. In November, he was elected the new state senator.
Stan and Gramilda rented an apartment not far from the Capitol. As a reformer, Stan was concerned about improving many conditions in his state. Joining various congressional committees, he soon he became a national figure, frequently mentioned in the news as a man of the people.
Josh returned to his law practice, satisfied that his father was doing a good job in Washington. His ancestral powers became dormant until the following December when his father was scheduled to come home for a summer vacation.
Sitting in his office, he suddenly had a premonition. Stan was coming out of the airport terminal when some disgruntled man in a dark green outfit pointed a gun at him and fired at close range. Josh knew his premonition would come true. He looked at his watch. It was twelve-noon. His dad’s plane would be just landing. Originally, he had planned to pick him up at the airport, but his dad felt it wasn’t necessary since some local officials were meeting him there. Frantically, Joshua tried contacting Stan on the cell phone, but there was no response.
“There’s got to be something I can do,” he shouted out.
There was a blinding flash of light, and the next thing he knew was standing in front of the airport terminal. Stan was coming out of the entrance. The culprit seen in his premonition appeared from behind a parked car and aimed his gun. Joshua stepped in front of his father. A shot rang out and Joshua fell, mortally wounded. Nearby security cops grabbed the culprit and rushed him away. With tears streaming from his eyes, Stan cradled his son’s head in his lap.
Joshua looked up and whispered to him, “Oh, Pop I had such big plans. There were many things I could have done to benefit mankind. Too bad it will never happen now.”
His eyes clouded up and the most unique person on earth passed away.
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