by Dane Bagley
“Who’s running against you?” Roloff asked Seryen.
“Bastian.”
“Oh,” said Roloff, trying to show some interest in the conversation. Roloff was not running for re-election anymore. He wasn’t even acting in his office of Mayor, though he hadn’t resigned. Seryen was acting as Mayor, and counseling with Roloff. Seryen would have never run as Mayor, as long as Roloff was running. Not because he could never defeat Roloff, though he certainly could not have, but because of his great love and respect for him. Bastian would have never run against Roloff either, but that was simply because he would not win against Roloff. Bastian would not consider doing anything that he was not certain to succeed in.
“Is there anything that I can get for you, or do for you, Roloff?”
“No. We are making do.”
“Prianna wanted me to ask you and Caryell to come over for dinner tonight.”
“She is so kind. You both are. Caryell will be staying with a friend tonight. I will be going on a walk. I need some time alone. I appreciate all that you and the great people here have done for me—the meals, the friendship, the company, all of the search teams—especially the prayers. I can feel the love and support. But tonight I need to be alone. I may be back very late. Please tell Prianna how much I do appreciate her.”
“I will. If you change your mind, we will set out an extra plate. Prianna loves Aspiria very much; we both do. She would do anything for her. If we can be of service to you and Caryell, please don’t hesitate to ask. How is Caryell doing?”
Roloff bowed and shook his head. “He’s a strength to me. I know that he thinks it’s his fault…it is not his fault. He just misses her so much. If he had been with her, they may both be gone. He is doing better, though. He has not lost faith. I know that he carries out his own searches.”
Seryen bade his friend farewell.
Roloff sat in silent contemplation. His hurt had not lessened at all. He missed his wife deeply. The pain was so strong, that sometimes he felt numbness come over him. Today he felt numb. He had barely left the house, except to go on searches. He attended church, and went to various members of the community when invited for meals. He had not gone on a walk, a real walk, since the time he had gone to the hill with Aspiria. Tonight he wanted to go up there alone. He needed to reflect, to pray, and perhaps to cry. It was good for Caryell to be with friends. They made his life seem normal. Roloff tried to show Caryell strength, but it was forced, and Caryell could see through it. Roloff felt that Caryell was being brought down by him. Tonight, perhaps, he could just be a boy.
After some time, Roloff set off on his lonely walk. The joys that he usually felt on his walks would not come to him. Still, he plodded along. Perhaps at least some of that peace would come with time. He felt more tired than he usually did. His physical strength and endurance had weakened. He was not the presence that he had once been, such a short time ago. The hole in his life that Aspiria had filled was bigger than even he could have imagined. His longing increased as he walked along. Momentarily, he reconsidered his journey that evening. Perhaps he was not up to it, physically or emotionally. No, he would go forward. He would only feel worse going back home to an empty house. The sun was setting earlier now, and to him the blanket of darkness was a comfort. He could avoid looking at himself in his mind’s eye.
The air was not quite chilly, but a quick breeze caused him to shudder. He wandered along the path, and began to see the silhouette of the hill in the distance. He shuddered again, but this time from his bitter sweet memories. He never went to the hill alone anymore. He always had his choice companion by his side. A brief but unrealistic hope, perhaps a fantasy, allowed him to consider that she would be up there. He would find her there. She was fine, and all was well again. The thoughts brightened his mood momentarily, but then the ridiculousness of them brought a greater sickening to his already dreadful mood. Still, she was there. She would always be there. Some of his choicest moments with her were spent on that hill, and she would always be there.
As he reached the top of the hill, he could see the bright lights of the city off in the distance. The air had now become chilly, and another small breeze could be felt. The coolness of the air and the darkness of the night helped him feel more alive, and less numb. I’m so glad that she got to see this view, he thought, or perhaps even said out loud. He gazed for a long time, folding his arms around his chest both to offer some protection from the chill, and to comfort himself.
His eyes caught hold of a vision of her. It was their last time together. He could see her eyes, her hair, and her smile. Even the vision could not match her real beauty, though. He began to hear her voice as she sweetly sang. He could almost feel her touch as he danced with her in his mind. It was so real, and so memorable. It was his last significant memory with her. He began to shudder more, and the cool air was only the catalyst. Roloff never cried. But tonight he did. He did not hold back, and he did not want to hold back. He began to cry harder and harder. It was a strange sensation to him. At first it made his hurt increase. The more he cried, the worse he felt and the harder he cried. He felt like he was digging himself into an emotional hole that he would never have the power to be uplifted from. The bottom was reached, however, and eventually he felt with bitterness some relief from his sting. He felt angry at the bit of comfort he felt. These tears were doing nothing for her, so why should he feel any better? At least his eyes burned, and his head ached. At least the crying brought some physical pain to make up for the emotional relief.
He had never prayed so much in his life, since the moment he first learned of Aspiria’s disappearance. He saw manifestation after manifestation of the prayers being answered. The help of the community was even more than he would have imagined. But the one prayer; the singular prayer: that Aspiria was well—he had not received the answer to. Yes, he wanted her back, but more than anything he wanted her to be well. He needed to know: is she alive?—is she safe? He kneeled down, and prayed vocally for a time. He did not feel that the words of his prayer were ascending on high. He felt that they were somehow tethered to him and that the further that he cast them, the harder they came back at him and hit him. He felt no peace, no reassurance, and no hope. But he continued to pray. The vocalization slowly became a whisper, and then he only mouthed the words. Monumental minutes passed by. He became aware that his prayer was bringing a soothing sensation to his being. He wanted to fight this, but could not. He was feeling soothed. He did not know if he was feeling God’s love for him, or if he was being given a reassurance; he prayed on. He felt a touch of eloquence to the words of his prayer, and he felt that his thoughts were being guided. This strengthened him and his resolve as he prayed. For the first time since Aspiria was gone, he felt connected with heaven. Gratitude began to fill his being. The hole that was in him, that was an open wound, was being given balm. The healing was not complete, but it was beginning. God loved him, this much he knew. But he still did not know if his dear Aspiria was well.
Throughout the prayer, the words were only traveling in one direction; they were emanating from him. The communication that he was receiving was spiritual comfort only. But, he was interrupted. Words were addressed to him. What were they? He quieted his mind, “Open your eyes.” It was soft; did he hear it or feel it? Then again, “Open your eyes.” He opened his eyes without closing his prayer. They were blurry from the tears, and from them being closed so tight. Then he saw it: the star—the shooting star again. What was this?—a sign? He blinked and continued to look on. That can’t be a shooting star. It is still crossing the sky. Then a feeling came over him. Aspiria! She’s there! The feeling overcame him. His mind was the clearest it had been in weeks. His heart began to race. He felt a spiritual assurance. She’s alive! She’s in that light racing across the sky. He knew in his heart this truth, as much as he knew that he was alive.
He w
atched until the light disappeared, and a pang entered his heart that was swelling. Still, his heart burned. He felt hope, excitement, wonderment, and amazement all building within him. As he continued to gaze at the sky, the how and the why began to plague him. It’s a vessel of some sort. It’s been there for a while; Aspiria and I saw it the last time we were here. It was only a few days after we first saw it that she was taken. The clarity of his mind was in overdrive. All of the tracks led to and from that hard rocky clearing. What if this vessel had landed on that spot? There were some strange tracks that could have been from a vessel of some sort. It would explain how everything seemed to emanate and disappear from that spot. Whoever is on that vessel could have landed, taken my Aspiria, and then gone back to encircling this planet. They were here before, they are here now. I know that Aspiria is there! Yes, they were going to take the deer, but then she came over. Maybe when they drugged her, they were afraid to leave her. Whatever the reason, I know where my Aspiria is. She is alive, I can feel it! Hope and understanding filled his breast. He bowed his head and uttered these words: “I thank thee; I thank thee with all my heart. I thank thee; please let me know what to do now.”
His strength had returned. He did not feel any fatigue or any fear. He felt excitement and joy. At first he wanted to broadcast his enlightenment to the world. He nearly ran, but realized that the town would be sleeping; there was nothing that he could do about all of this tonight. Eventually he settled into a brisk walk. The reality of the situation began to condensate upon him. Who has such a vessel? His world was fairly primitive. The city to which he had looked over this evening was the only place in the world that currently had electrical power—there, and the few towns near it, like his own. We don’t have the power or understanding to send a craft into space. This world does not possess that capacity. These must be travelers from another world. They were men—that much was sure; he could tell just from the footprints. But they must be men from another world. Why are they here? What do they want with us? What do they want with Aspiria? Why won’t they bring her back now? I’m sure the drug has worn off. They are still here though, and they have not traveled back to their world. That much was certain. There was plenty of hope.
But how will we contact them? How do we communicate with them? If they need to have someone from our world with them, they can have me. They need to bring Aspiria back; I will take her place if I must. A feeling a dread began to enter his heart. They have not mistreated her! They would not hurt her, would they? Perhaps they are from that world! It’s impossible to know what the men of that world would do. After all, look at what they did to God’s Son—they killed Him. Of all the men in the universe, only the men from that world scared Roloff. There were good men from that world, too. Oh, I hope that they are not from that world! His mind began to be a blizzard. It had been filled with such clarity, but now the excitement, the relief, followed by the dread, and the concern, gave him an overwhelming confusion.
Still, he trudged along at a quick pace. How would he contact them? What were his next moves? Should he go home and sleep, or go to Seryen? What proof did he have? Would the people think that he was crazy, or incapacitated? His home came into view, and he slowed his pace. What should he do? He couldn’t sleep, but he didn’t know what else to do. He needed rest. Perhaps the morning would bring a new perspective, and additional clarity of thought. He was given the knowledge that he had. Additional inspiration might come soon. There was nothing that he could do tonight. He would rest. He would let Caryell rest. Tomorrow’s dawn would truly be a new day. Aspiria was alive, and he had seen where she was. He knew something about her whereabouts, and that was everything in the world to him now.
Chapter 29