by Bobby Akart
But their woes this summer were purely environmental. The drought was beginning to take its toll on the health of the orchard and the trees’ ability to produce apples. In early July, when the first apples, which were barely an inch in diameter, began to fall to the ground, Squire gathered them up and headed into Corydon to meet with the folks at the Purdue University Agriculture Extension Office.
He didn’t learn anything he didn’t already know. The hot temperatures and drought conditions prompted the early formation of the hormone ethylene, tricking the apples into thinking it was time to drop.
“Dear, it’s the doggoned drought. We pump as much water out of the river and as deep into the orchard as we can, but I never expected to water every tree. If the depth of the Ohio continues to drop, I’ll have to extend our draw pipes and maybe even increase our pump capacities before next spring.”
Sarah turned away from her husband to stare out the window. He immediately noticed that her mood had changed. Squire had learned to understand her fears and worries and what triggered them. He did his best not to heap any of his problems on her shoulders, but sometimes, in the course of conversation, he inadvertently did so. He scrambled to fix it.
“That said, I’ve already done the calculations. Even with our harvest being at three-quarters normal production, we can upgrade the equipment and be ready for this next year. Plus, if we don’t have the money, there’s always good old Farm Credit. They’ve always been there for us in the past.”
Sarah smiled and reached for her husband’s hand. “We always find a way. Just don’t go back to the Clarks again, okay? Levi told me what happened with Bully Billy at the feed store the other day. I wanna find a way to give them their due and be done.”
Squire nodded. “They’ll get theirs, and then never again. I promise.”
They rode along in silence, periodically stopping to speak to some of their workers. Baskets were getting filled, and their gloomy mood soon passed. While Squire spoke to one of his foremen, Sarah scrolled through her Google news feed. An article caught her eye, and she interrupted Squire.
“Wow! Listen to this!”
He quickly wrapped up his conversation and turned to his wife. “Is it a text from the kids?”
“No, sorry. No emergency. It’s just a news story, but pretty amazing video goes with it.”
She slid on the bench seat until she was next to her husband. He put his arm around her. “Do you remember when I used to pick you up for dates in this truck?”
She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “I do. And I remember that Momma made me carry my biggest purse, and insisted I keep it between us on the seat.”
Squire chuckled. “You’d throw that thing in the bed next to the hay bales as soon as we were out of the driveway. You couldn’t slip a toothpick between us.”
“Nope. It was nice. Like this.”
“Yeah. So whatcha got there?”
“Watch this.”
She started a video from Al-Jazeera news showing a massive swarm of locusts overtaking Mecca, Saudi Arabia. Mecca was considered Islam’s holiest site.
“There are millions of them,” said Squire. “Those men are covered head to toe.”
Sarah nodded. “You can barely see the walls of the mosque. But the men continue to pray. Amazing.”
As if on cue, a grasshopper jumped onto the hood of the pickup, startling them both. Squire immediately honked the horn in an attempt to ward off the demon. He turned back to the video.
“As long as they don’t come—” began Squire before Sarah interrupted him.
“Don’t you see what this means?”
“Too many locusts are a bad thing?” he asked sarcastically.
“No, husband. It’s biblical. It’s a signal of the end times. Three hundred years before the birth of Christ, a massive army of locusts descended upon northern Africa, consuming all the plant life. That was followed by a great plague and pestilence that killed millions.”
“Sarah, honey, this probably happens all the time.”
“It happened in Las Vegas not that long ago. Do you remember?”
“Yeah, barely. I thought those were grasshoppers.”
Sarah put away her phone. “They were, but the principle is the same whether we’re talking about locusts or grasshoppers. Las Vegas is called Sin City for a reason. They engulfed the city, even flying inside the casinos.”
Squire took a deep breath and withheld any further comment. Sarah was a strong believer in Christianity and took the Bible at its literal meaning at times. He was not quite as committed as she was, but because he loved her, he attended church on Sundays too. There had been times in the past when an isolated occurrence like a swarm of locusts caught her eye in the news, and he indulged her as she shared her theories on the end of days.
He wheeled the pickup around a stalled tractor and headed back toward the house, when an enormous boom coming from the sky shook him to his core.
Chapter 50
Riverfront Farms
Southeast Indiana
Squire abruptly slammed on the brakes, throwing both of them forward into the dashboard.
“I’m sorry. Are you okay?” he asked.
Sarah had her face pressed against the windshield, looking toward the sky. She asked hesitantly, “Squire, what was that?”
“I dunno.” He exited the truck and walked around the open driver’s door. He shielded his eyes from the sun and looked skyward.
Then it happened again.
BOOM!
Sarah shrieked and slid across the seat to exit through the driver’s side door. She shoved her arm through Squire’s and he promptly hugged her. Then he pointed skyward.
“Look at the lights!”
“Is it lightning and thunder? Are we finally gonna get some rain?” Sarah’s excited voice was full of hope and anticipation.
However, there were no clouds in the sky.
“It has to be a jet or something,” surmised Squire. “Only …” His voice trailed off.
“Like a sonic boom,” added Sarah. “The flashes of light don’t make any sense. And the booms sound more like—”
“Cannons?” Squire finished her sentence.
“Yes. Bombs, even. Do you think it’s coming from the mines over toward Evansville?” she asked. Evansville was just over a hundred miles west of Riverfront Farms on the other side of the Hoosier National Forest.
“I don’t know, Sarah. I mean, those coal operations do mainly surface mining. I’m not sure that dynamite is needed for that. Plus, the strange lights.”
BOOM!
Another sonic boom, louder this time, shook their truck and the ground.
Sarah raced back to the truck to retrieve her cell phone. She immediately navigated to CNN.com and found nothing. Then she tried IndyStar.com, the website for the Indianapolis Star newspaper.
Nothing there either.
Sarah wandered away from Squire and continued to study the skies. She stopped just short of a dry creek bed and turned completely around in a circle before returning to her husband, who stood by the truck, dumbfounded.
She set her jaw and her face turned serious. “Squire Boone, I love you and I know you love me. I want you to listen to what I have to say and please let me finish. Promise?”
Squire took a deep breath and exhaled. He led his wife to the bed of the pickup, dropped the tailgate, and then lifted her up so she could sit on the opened gate. He hoisted himself up, so they were sitting side by side, feet dangling in the air.
“I promise.”
She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Do you remember the story about the Three Secrets of Fátima?”
“Um, vaguely,” lied Squire.
Sarah continued. “Okay. Over a hundred years ago, in 1917, there was a mysterious woman appearing as an apparition to these Portuguese children who lived in a small sheepherding village. The kids, Lucia, Jacinta, and Francisco, claimed they’d been visited by the Virgin Mary on six different occasions. Each
time, the Virgin Mary apparition gave them instructions on how to offer reparations to Jesus. She also revealed three amazing secrets.
“The last time she appeared, Lucia asked the Virgin Mary what her message was. While her two cousins remained a short distance away, she listened to the Virgin Mary reveal three secrets.
“First, she opened up her arms and provided a vision of Hell with all of its fire and ugly demons and the poor charred souls of the damned. The vision frightened the children, but they now realized there was, in fact, a Hell and possible eternal damnation.
“Second, while they wept and were overcome with sadness, they looked up to the Virgin Mary, and she reassured them that World War I would end, but another would start soon thereafter if people did not stop offending God during the time of Catholic Pope Pius XI.
“Squire, it was near the end of the pope’s time in the Vatican that World War II started.”
Sarah stopped to catch her breath, and Squire listened intently to her as she relayed what she’d learned in church. She was becoming emotional, so he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him.
She wiped a tear from her eye and smiled up at him before continuing.
“There was a third secret, one that was so frightening and devastating that Lucia refused to disclose it. She received a lot of pressure over the years, including a harsh letter from her bishop, who demanded that she record the secret and send it to him.
“In 1944, the sealed envelope with the secret was delivered to the bishop but remained with him until it was delivered to Rome thirteen years later. According to the letter, it was to be revealed in 1960 because its meaning could be fully understood then. However, the Vatican refused to release the information because it was deemed too horrible to reveal.
“That’s when the mystery and conspiracy began. People believe that the bits and pieces of her letter were released to suit the Catholic Church, not to reveal the truth.
“Many people claim that Lucia’s vision was a detailed account of the apocalypse. Mostly, it discussed the threats to Christianity and to the life of all who believe. Squire, it’s the prophecy of the end times and the specific passages contained in the Book of Revelation.”
Squire slid off the end of the tailgate and wandered around the dry grass behind the truck. He stopped to pick up a rock and rolled it around in his fingers as he spoke. “Honey, there has to be something more to this third secret that would make it relate to what’s going on in the world. All of this could be coincidence.”
“Maybe, but do you have an explanation for the crazy weather, locusts, and now mysterious booms coupled with these flashes of light?”
“Well, um, no, but there has to be—”
Sarah cut him off. “Pope John Paul II said in the message there was a warning. Oceans will flood whole areas of the Earth. Her diary also said a flame comes off the sky that touches the axis of the Earth like the tip of a spear, and that this makes the planet shake.”
Squire shook his head. It could be naturally occurring events based upon science. It could also be based upon prophecies. He was careful with his words. Squire hesitated to say more because he’d promised to hear his wife out, and she got the final word.
“I mean, I don’t know what all of that means and how it effects what’s happening around us. It all seems a little, um, I don’t know.”
Sarah made her closing argument. “Okay, so it sounds far-fetched, but we don’t have a better explanation. Maybe our scientific-minded kids will be able to explain. All I know is that the prophecies, or secrets, that came from our Lady of Fátima, the vision of the Virgin Mary, have come true. Until somebody tells me otherwise, I think we’re headed into some dark days.”
Chapter 51
National Institute of Sciences of the Universe (INSU)
Paris, France
Chapman and Isabella flew to the Bay of Biscay, making quick work of their chores. While Chapman did a series of live reports on the beached pilot whales, Isabella made the rounds and spoke with the marine biologists who’d descended upon the area. At least two of them confirmed her theory that a reversal of the planet’s magnetic field might cause the whales to become disoriented.
They talked excitedly on the return trip to Paris, outlining a list of things to do and people to contact in order to confirm their theories. Just before they landed at the INSU, she reminded Chapman of the geological issues associated with her theory.
“The magnetic fields at the North Pole are clearly declining in strength as the polar shift takes place. This will soon cause disruptions to satellites, compasses, global positioning devices, and, as we’ve seen, animal behavior.”
“And weather,” added Chapman.
“Oui. None of this, however, compares to the effects of a true geological polar shift. That involves the actual movement of the Earth’s crust over the inner core rather than just a change in the planet’s electromagnetic field.”
Chapman interrupted to get clarity. “The solid part of the planet moves over the liquid part. Has that happened before?”
“Yes, several times over the billions of years that the Earth has been in existence. One theory included a passing comet with a gravity so strong that it changed the rotation of the Earth.”
Chapman shook his head, then pressed his nose against the cold glass as he followed the chopper pilot’s progress toward landing. “That’s hard to imagine.”
“I am talking about a shift in the electromagnetic field so great, it’s possible to change the location of matter on the Earth’s surface.”
“Like tectonic plate shifts?”
“Yes, but mainly the alteration of the oceans’ currents, melting of the polar ice caps, plus severe weather like hurricanes, tornadoes, and droughts.”
“We’re experiencing some of that already. In the States, we’ve already had one of the most severe hurricane seasons on record and it’s not even September yet. Not to mention that the hurricanes are active in the Gulf of Mexico and off our Pacific Coast, which is unheard of.”
Isabella added, “Do not forget, with the disruption in the tectonic plates, we will have more earthquakes and volcanic activity.”
Chapman muttered, “It could be the end of the world as we know it.”
The two of them quickly exited the helicopter and hustled into the research center, where Isabella’s graduate students were frantically pounding away on their computer keyboards in search of information.
They’d barely entered the large room that held multiple computer workstations and meeting vignettes containing round tables with four chairs each when they were immediately summoned by a trio of students huddled around a single computer in the far corner of the room. They dropped their gear on the first table and joined the group.
“Dr. Dubois! Please come see!” one of them shouted, exhibiting a sense of urgency.
Another insisted on her attention first. “No, over here, Dr. Dubois. This is very important.”
“Okay! Okay!” Isabella raised her voice to get everyone’s attention. “First, can everyone stay late this evening?”
Everyone enthusiastically replied yes.
“Who can make notes on the chalkboard as we analyze our data?”
A volunteer quickly raised her hand and she took her position at the head of the room.
“Now, we will take the time to hear everyone and create notes on our findings. Then, I can assure you, we will have more research to do, with more questions to answer. Agreed?”
“Oui!”
“Okay. I want to start with present-day events and then work backwards to historic occurrences. Who has current news reports?”
The first person who tried to get her attention spoke up again. “I have a missing eight-hundred-foot freighter near the South Atlantic Anomaly.”
“Wow,” commented Chapman. “That’s a great start.”
“Everyone, this is Chapman Boone. He is with The Weather Channel from America. I can assure you, he is far mo
re knowledgeable on these matters than the average weather reporter.”
“Thank you, Dr. Dubois. I’m humbled, and impressed at the intensity of your students.”
She turned to her designated notetaker and nodded. “South Atlantic Anomaly, s’il vous plaît.”
The student obliged and scrawled the words on the left of three chalkboards.
“Chapman, would you like to explain the South Atlantic Anomaly to the class? They are all fluent in English.”
“That’s amazing,” said Chapman, wondering how many American college students could speak French. Based upon social media posts, he wondered if they could manage to put together a complete sentence. “Okay, well, the South Atlantic Anomaly is, quite simply, an abnormality in the Earth’s magnetic field that exists in a huge expanse of the Southern Hemisphere ranging from Zimbabwe to Chile. Over the past two hundred years, the field has decreased in this area at an alarming rate, so much so that it’s a hazard for satellites to orbit above that region because the weakened field no longer protects them from radiation, which interferes with their electronics. Also, ships navigating in the waters between the southern ends of Africa and South America must take special precautions to avoid getting lost or running aground on islands like Ascension and Saint Helena.”
“Very good, Professor Boone,” interrupted Isabella, causing the research assistants to laugh. She continued the explanation. “There is a patch of reversed polarity beneath southern Africa at the core-mantle transition boundary. The polarity of the field is opposite to the average global magnetic field. It is here that on a compass, north points south and south points north. This is the reason for the South Atlantic Anomaly.”
One of the students raised her hand to add to the conversation. “Only, we have evidence that the anomaly has relocated, Dr. Dubois. It is now farther north than previously assumed. The position is closer to the former Gold Coast of West Africa.”
“A thousand miles?” asked Isabella.