by Neely Dobbs
CHAPTER 4: Earth
The capricious breeze of Indian summer momentarily tousled Jason Ozier’s hair as he mopped his brow and squinted out over the field of waving grain. He hadn’t really needed to take his tractor out today; the grain was close to harvest and needed no additional cultivating. He was pleased he had gone out anyway, remembering the satisfying thrum of power beneath him as the machine had done his bidding. He had mowed and cleaned around the field’s borders which— even he had to admit— were already sufficiently clean. But, when the occasional breeze was right, he had been able to savor an invigorating whiff of his much loved Farmall’s kerosene exhaust.
The cane-bottomed chair creaked its complaint as he tilted it far back to lean against his house. This was part of his well established routine. After being in the field, he loved to sit on his front porch and look out over his work. If done carefully, the rear legs of the chair could be placed just far enough from the wall so he could lean all the way back, and the chair legs would not quite slide out from under him. The chair was old and the cane-bottom sagged, but Samantha— his loving partner— had fashioned a little quilted pillow that fit perfectly and made it comfortably level again.
He smiled as he thought of her baby-blue eyes and the luxuriantly wavy auburn hair that fell to her shoulders. She was three years younger than his forty-two, but looked at least six or seven years younger. It must have been a moment of weakness on her part when she agreed to marry me, but she’s never let me feel she regrets it. Certainly not last night! Although talking with Kyle at the town meeting and discussing the recent strange sightings had been enjoyable, those events were completely overshadowed by his time afterward with Samantha.
He smiled anew at the fading sky’s beauty, and decided to remain outside. He wanted to watch the stars come out. Something in Jason loved the stars. When he gazed at them, he felt as though another awareness stirred within him, causing sensations he could not quite grasp, a nebulous consciousness that remained just out of reach. A small sigh escaped his lips as he shifted his weight, stood up and stretched. He enjoyed the late summer's heat, but some shade would make it more comfortable.
Moving to the protection of a towering chinaberry tree, Jason relaxed and enjoyed tracking the lowering sun through narrowed eyes. His smile broadened as he again recalled the previous evening’s tryst in the grove with Samantha. It had been playful, with giggling and laughing and panting and had gone on energetically until they were both sated.
As if drawn by the power of his thoughts, a pair of arms reached from behind him, circled his waist and squeezed. He was so accustomed to their feel that he didn’t flinch with surprise. Instead, he deftly caught both of her wrists, lifted them to the level of his neck and turned to face her. Her eyes went wide as his free hand moved down, exploring. He unbuttoned the two top buttons of her calico dress.
“Jason!” she giggled as she squirmed closer to him. “We don’t have time! Supper’s almost ready.”
He made no comment. Adding his free hand to the one holding her wrists, he gently twisted her half around, so she faced away from him with her hands over her head. Then he lowered her hands, stood straight and resumed holding her firmly with one arm. His free hand could not be denied.
She squealed and squirmed and lifted her head to give him a melting smile. “Jas…unh…Jason!” she panted. “I have to go if I’m going to keep from burning supper…and if you don’t stop now, I won’t be able to!”
He snickered, then grudgingly released her. She turned slowly, gave him a warm full kiss and a sassy smile that hinted at her plans for later, then dashed back into the house.
He sat back down and watched her go. Where do such women come from?
I’ve been blessed to be with her these twenty wonderful years….
The sun lowered to touch the horizon as Jason luxuriated in past memories. When it began to fade, he rose reluctantly and started toward the house. Shadows lengthened and colors faded to shades of gray, revealing only the silhouettes of the outbuilding and barns. His eyes, roving across the area, suddenly riveted on the grove that sheltered the old homestead's ruins.
An uneasy prickling sensation ran down his neck and his palms became moist. The setting sun’s rays can’t reach into that clearing… but that area is lighted. While that, alone, might not have caused undue alarm, the light began to pulsate. Jason had often seen leaves, lifted by a gust of wind, reflecting more light from their paler undersides. But there’s no wind!
“Sam, I’m going to the clearing,” he called toward the house.
Samantha hurried outside, then sauntered forward seductively and murmured huskily, “Oooo…Want some company?”
His apparent disinterest puzzled her: “No…I’ll only be a minute.”
Walking toward the thicket, Jason’s thoughts whirled. Why didn’t I tell her? It might be dangerous…so why am I going at all? Still, his legs carried him forward. It wasn’t exactly that he was unafraid. Rather, it was as though fear had been removed from his emotional vocabulary. He watched in a detached way as his feet followed the meandering trail. One last turn, just ahead, then the clearing.
He rounded the turn and his feet stopped. Just stopped. Indescribable sensations competed for supremacy. His knees locked, but he did not fall. Then, slowly, stiffly, he began moving forward again. Has my will been taken over? Again he stopped. Unable to consciously recall fear, he was utterly calm.
There before him was an unknown object. It might be made of metal. But a purplish–brown metal, streaked by scorch marks? It looks dirty…or ancient and well used. He startled with a jolt, as it suddenly quit pulsating. The oval object simply rested on the ground. No wheels. No struts. Not even a flattened underside to keep that rounded contraption from tilting on uneven ground.
As Jason gaped, he heard a small hissing sound, like the pinpoint puncture of a vacuum seal. A rectangle appeared on the object’s side, outlined in pale light. The rectangle receded into the vehicle, then slid to one side. In a few seconds, the door had retracted entirely. The shadow of a man appeared on an interior wall.
Jason’s fear reflex may have vanished, but his curiosity remained. Questions leapt through his mind: What on Earth is this? Is this what Kyle saw? Why is it here? Why have I been drawn to it? Who is its occupant? And what does he want?
Those questions were eerily intensified as a clear, resonant voice issued from the shadowy interior. Loudly and clearly it called out, “Jason Ozier!”