“Spying on the neighbors?” Pete said.
Will smiled, “Hey this was a big deal, I couldn’t resist. Anyway, there are the kids, pretty much the way I remembered ‘em, standing on the porch. Kim and Andy come to the door and it’s hugs all around as they go inside. These are kids between five and nine years old. And Andy tells me later that all three of them talked like they were grownups, even telling about what their jobs are,” he said, a bit skeptically. “Not the sort of child-labor work you might fear, but real creative things with amazing responsibilities. The seven-year-old girl said she’s in charge of a whole choir that sings in Jerusalem every day. A seven-year-old!”
Pete swore. “What? Are we supposed to believe this?”
Rodney believed it, and he could tell that Will was building to a stunning climax.
“I know, that’s what you’d think. But Andy says that by the time she told them about her assignment, they already felt like they had been talking to the perfect, grownup version of their little girl. But the most convincing part was with the pain in Andy’s back. He’s been looking for someone to do surgery, to relieve some really intense pain. That night, his daughter just touched him and the pain disappeared. He said it was like his spine just straightened out. No surgery necessary now.”
Pete, having seen both Rodney and Daniel healed out at the farm, not to mention Jenny, was losing momentum for his argument, when Sara weighed in.
“I gotta think these people are telling the truth about who they are and what they’re doing. How else could they do these miracles?”
This triggered Pete’s favorite argument. “Well, sure they have super powers, or whatever, but that doesn’t mean that Jesus Christ is sitting on a throne in Jerusalem. If they’re some kind of alien race from another solar system, come to take over the world, they can probably do things we could never do.”
Rodney had gone around this corner with Pete several times already and had prepared a different response. “Okay, let’s grant that these people could be aliens, instead of resurrected saints. But one thing you gotta admit, Pete, is they’re doing a Hell of a lot better at putting things back together than we could have. And why not let aliens rule the planet, anyway? It’s not like us humans did such a great job of it for the last four thousand years.”
Caught off guard by Rodney’s new argument, Pete sat speechless. Rodney smiled. Even if he didn’t fully believe that argument himself, it was worth it to shut Pete up, for a change.
Will stepped in here. “I really don’t think we have to agree on exactly who these people are or where they come from. All we really have to decide is whether to cooperate with ‘em.”
Rodney said, “And we saw what good resisting them does, when those guys tried to take hostages.”
As compelling as this final point felt, a crawling discomfort remained in all of them, that resistance seemed impossible. Their recent recovery from the rule of a powerful and oppressive dictator, added fuel to their determination to be free. What no one in the room could decide, however, was exactly how free they were now.
Later that day, when she went into town for groceries, Emma heard Celia Pope tell about meeting her son, who had disappeared months before. Emma had met Celia twice, once in Jay’s store and the other time at the high school. Having seen Emma at the parents’ meeting, Celia spilled her thoughts and feelings, as soon as they bumped into each other again.
After polite greetings, Celia launched into her story. “So my boy Kevin came to see me Tuesday night.” She spoke in a trilling hiccup voice. “I couldn’t believe how he looked. He was perfect. He was healthy and happy, and I’ve never seen him look more handsome. Oh, I missed him so bad. After his father was killed by the government, and it was just me and Kevin left, I was devastated when he disappeared. Eleven years of raising him, and then I’m all alone and childless.” She barely resisted tears at the thought of it.
Emma was relieved to see Celia so excited. Their first meeting had left Emma depressed and fearful regarding the woman’s health. Celia’s demeanor had improved immensely, making Emma curious about just what transpired in that meeting.
Celia described the cheerful and polite conversation with her, once sullen, eleven-year-old, and how impressed she had been with his behavior, including asking several questions concerning her welfare. “It was like an angel had possessed the body of my son,” she declared. She turned more serious and said, “It was him, it really was Kevin, he knew everything my Kevin would have known, but he was so much sweeter than he was before.”
Emma just smiled, not knowing what to say to this.
“Well, anyway, the good news for me is I get to go to be with Kevin, at least in the same city he’s working in. He’s working in Decatur, Georgia, helping with the restoration of the parks and something like that. He always loved to work outside.” Celia grinned pleasantly, a hint of oblivion in her eyes, as she drifted off into her imaginary life with her wonderful son.
Emma had to ask, “So you won’t actually be living with him?”
Celia rolled her eyes. “No, apparently he doesn’t really have a place to live, or need one for that matter, at least as far as I could understand. But he’ll be working in the city and I can be close to him. He promised he would visit me.” She shrugged a bit. “It’s enough for me, after being left all alone for so long.”
Here Celia lowered her boisterous tone and put a hand on Emma’s arm. “You know what he told me—and I’m thinking he knows what he’s talking about—he said he wasn’t going to get old and—get this—we won’t be aging nearly as fast as we used to. He said the world has changed somehow and it’s going to keep getting better.”
Again Emma had no response, wondering if it was true, wondering what it would mean for her and for Rodney, wondering if this could make giving birth to more children possible at her age.
The saddest story Rodney heard about the parent visits came from Jason Cooper. He and Renee had welcomed their eight-year-old daughter and five-year-old son into their house, ready to receive them back into their lives; but the children had changed, of course.
Rodney and Jason sat on the partial porch that Rodney had built in between the Cooper’s crises and Rodney’s other work. The day was warm and pleasant, the sky half blue and half clouds, with a hint of rain in the near future. All the trees had fully unfurled their leaves and the grass on the lawn had grown hearty and tall, interspersed with dandelions and clover. The latter attracted two rabbits, who munched on the sweet white blossoms and perused dark green leaves, while keeping their eyes on the two men.
Jason recounted the meeting. “Renee listened to them talk for less than a minute and she started to get mad, really mad. It was really creepy,” he said, a mantle of depression weighing him down.
“Creepy?” Rodney couldn’t reconcile this description with his own joyous reunion.
“They looked like my kids, mostly,” Jason said, straining to find the words. “But they really weren’t themselves.”
Jason ran his hand through his brush of hair. It stood straight up as usual, but was longer than Rodney was accustomed to, and the effect reminded him of a man who had survived a bomb blast.
“It was like they were my kids, but they were possessed by some other beings,” Jason said finally. “I know that sounds really crazy, but that’s the best I can do.” His voice began to rise with the emotional strain that he barely held under control.
Rodney decided to risk challenging Jason’s perception, “I saw my kids too, you know. They came by the house and visited. And they really were changed, they seemed so grown up, even though they still looked like kids. And some of the things they said were hard to believe, but they were really interesting to talk to and so polite and pleasant. I wonder if you just weren’t ready for how your kids have been...ah... affected by what they’ve experienced.” He tried for a neutral tone, which felt awkward and insincere.
Jason squirmed, which looked strange on a big man. In that movement, Rodney
considered how much Jason was still a boy.
With a burst of frustration, Jason responded. “I don’t know how you can just accept that someone can come and take children from their parents, and fill them with something else, some ideas or even something else, some kind of power...” Jason’s restraint broke, he fumed loudly now. “They have no right to change my kids. They’re my kids! They can’t just take them away!”
Rodney leaned back, opening more distance between himself and Jason. The distraught father seemed on the verge of a total emotional eruption.
Suddenly Jason stood up and reached for the screen door handle. “I can’t talk about this anymore,” he said.
Rodney stood up and saw that Jason had stopped just inside, holding the handle of the wooden front door in his hand. Rodney waited a second.
“I told them to never come back,” Jason said. “I told them I didn’t want to see them again,” Jason revealed the biggest and sharpest stone that had worked its way into his sore and infected soul.
Still Rodney didn’t know what to say. He hesitated.
Jason looked at him, adrift in his anguish. “I gotta go,” is all he could say and he closed the front door.
Rodney told Steve about this encounter later that evening, after supper. They stood beside the house where Steve scrubbed at one of the seats he had removed from the electric car he purchased that day. Steve shook his head and scowled into the distance, watching blue jays fly from tree to tree out past the garden. He let the seat rest on the ground and stood up straight from a squatting position. Rodney was glad to see his old friend gaining weight during his weeks on the farm.
Steve had met with his son, Timmy, the day after Rodney met his kids and had a similarly inspiring and welcomed encounter. He had never liked it when his wife called Timmy her “little man,” but now it seemed an apt description. Unlike David and Olivia, Timmy had committed to visiting Steve again in the near future.
Steve responded to Rodney’s concern about Jason. “It’s like their minds were set against it from the start and from there they could only see the negative side of what had happened to their kids.”
Rodney took a deep breath. “Yeah, it’s no surprise that Jason and Renee weren’t comfortable with the change in the kids, given their fear and distrust of the immortals. I’m even thinking that it has to do with discovering that the Christians were right, and the rest of us were wrong, about God and all. It’s hard for some to get past that.”
“And all the harder if you feel like your mistake has separated you from your children,” Steve said. “So do they think their kids are possessed, or just reprogrammed by some kind of aliens?”
Rodney shrugged. “I’ve heard people saying it both ways, Jason seemed to think they had been reprogrammed, I guess. He thinks they’ve been brainwashed by a cult, leaving him frustrated that he can’t just grab ‘em and shake ‘em out of it.”
“So you think people like him will just give up on their kids and go on with their lives?”
“Hmmm, that doesn’t seem very likely, does it?”
Shaking his head, Steve said, “I’d be surprised if they don’t turn to some kind of resistance to the new government. It’s what we’ve all been geared up for by the last government, it’s easy to just fall back into rebel mode.”
Of course, Rodney knew this as well as anyone, but all that he had experienced from the immortals left little hope for an effective revolution. He was convinced that any new resisters could only harm themselves and other mortals like him.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Though spring arrived before she had been announced, she seemed in no hurry to leave. The heat of summer would have arrived in April, if spring’s early debut had been a predictor. Instead, the days remained warm, sunny and pleasant, the nights cool and full of the sounds of frogs, crickets and coyotes. It rarely rained during the day, but rained a bit almost every night, a farmers dream.
Socks occasionally spent a dry night outside, presumably with the other coyotes who sang to the moon. Distant farm dogs, of more reputable breeding, answered the coyote song in their own refined accents. Daniel would smile at the sound, thinking of Socks getting out with his friends.
As for Daniel, he had convinced his mother to let him buy an electric scooter, so he could ride into town to visit kids his age. The phenomenon of the disappearing children did not include teenagers, apparently. Though other teens lived in the area, the lack of schools made getting together more difficult. Daniel, who had turned fifteen at the end of March, was sufficiently motivated to make the extra effort.
The available wheels also gave Daniel the opportunity to get some work in town with Dale. He had actually attempted to give Chip, the android, a ride on the back of the scooter, but keeping his balance, and hanging on, seemed too difficult for the mechanical man, who, on the other hand, found differential calculus no problem at all.
On a day when Daniel was working in town, Emma drove in to spend some time with Jenny. Steve was already there looking at prospects for work. Thus, Rodney, who had no paying work on that particular day, had the place to himself.
Being the sort of carpenter who can always find something to do to improve even a well-built house, Rodney had only to decide which project he should tackle first, on that bright and breezy day. While working in the barn, testing beams for strength and longevity, he caught sight of a large black object through the cracks in the ancient barn wall. Curious, he climbed down from the loft, after holstering his hammer. As he approached the barn door, the large black object moved again, its mysterious shape blocking the sunlit cracks.
A hundred questions rolling through his head as he peeked around the doorpost, Rodney laughed when he saw that his mysterious visitor was a cow. A second look, however, told him that, in fact, it was a bull. About the time he figured that out, one liquid eye turned on him, as the massive beast bent around to see who was approaching.
Though he wasn’t a farmer or a rancher himself, Rodney had a history with cattle, from his summers in Nebraska. That history included a couple of narrow escapes under the barbed wire, with an irritable bull targeting his backside. Standing in the door of the barn, Rodney made a quick calculation of how fast he could get back inside and up the loft ladder. The door to the barn would be no help, the left side door had become imbedded in the ground, hanging on one hinge and the right side door, which swung outward, now lay flat against the exterior wall.
The bull pivoted toward Rodney, his banana-shaped horns swinging ominously toward the frozen man. Rodney tried to remember what not to do, so as not to upset one of these monsters, but his mind was stuck in neutral. He just stood staring, as the meaty giant finished his turn and looked at him head on. Then the bull turned his head a bit to the right and started walking forward, as if maneuvering into a parking place next to where Rodney stood.
Rodney twitched at first and then stopped himself, when he could tell that the bull wasn’t charging him. If he was in danger, it would apparently be from a clever sneak attack, and Rodney didn’t think the bull had that in his arsenal.
Taking one small step back, Rodney watched as the bull sidled up to the doorway. Then the visitor stepped sideways enough to contact the rough wood of the barn, where he rubbed his side lazily, trying to get an itch that apparently wasn’t an emergency sort of itch. When he finished with that, he sidestepped a bit closer to Rodney and lifted his head. That movement gave Rodney the impression that the big bull was looking for a scratch on the head and neck. He had seen his grandfather do that to an old bull that was docile and familiar. Here, a foot away from him, stood a bull he had never seen in his life and all Rodney could think to do was start scratching.
A minute of tentative exploration revealed that this particular bull loved to have the top of his head scratched, just behind his horns. His breathing slowed and his eyes closed half way, like a contented hound. Rodney let out a little laugh. The bull did not change position but he did open his left eye all the way to check out
the meaning of that laugh. Rodney apologized and got back to some serious scratching. After another minute or so, the bull turned away and swung back to the clover next to the barn, parking in the strip of shade provided by the late morning angle of the sun.
Again Rodney laughed, this time amused by his own dilemma. It was one thing to host an occasional rabbit sampling the clover in the yard, but this big four-legged visitor was an entirely different matter. The bull didn’t stop his grazing to investigate this latest laughter, apparently satisfied that the human knew his place.
Lacking other obvious options, Rodney just went back to his work. When he stopped for lunch, the bull was laying under one of the poplar trees along the edge of the yard, the noonday sun erasing any shade alongside the barn. Rodney watched as Socks jogged over to sniff the bull, who regarded the coyote with languid amusement.
After lunch, Rodney filled an old washtub with a few gallons of water and lugged it to the shade along the back of the barn, about ten yards from the bulls resting place. As soon as Rodney turned to walk away, the big animal hauled himself up to his feet and sauntered over to the water. Gathering up his tools, Rodney could hear the splashing in the tub, from the large, grateful tongue of his guest.
As he worked on pulling out splintered boards and reinforcing a couple of the beams that had begun to split, Rodney was thinking about the content bull. He had clover and water, what more could he want? Cows, of course, Rodney answered himself, with a smile.
The REIGN: Out of Tribulation Page 25