To make things better, I had another visitor: Littlefoot. She looked about six years old, and her skin was unmarked. Seeing that made me the wealthiest man in the world. She held a milkshake in one hand. Daniel had one, too. Each time they took a sip, they did the tongue thing, then giggled.
“Give him the rundown, Doc.” Uncle Bart managed to look worried and joyful at the same time.
“Okay. As you know, we did surgery on your right forearm. We had to repair a damaged artery and pick out bone fragments. You had several puncture wounds to your legs and torso, we assume from the creature’s claws. You also separated a couple of ribs. You have a ton of bruises.”
“‘Ton of bruises’—is that a medical term?” Andi asked.
“Don’t mind her, Doc. She’s a little too attached to details.” For Brenda, it was a kind comment.
The doctor excused himself and said he was going home. He was done with the day. So was I.
We spent the next few minutes relating what we had seen. I told what I saw and even mentioned Daniel’s appearance on the other side. “He looked older and he said it wasn’t heaven. It didn’t look at all like the heaven I saw in the House.”
“I doubt it was heaven,” the professor said.
“Oh, don’t start, Professor,” Brenda said. “We all know you don’t believe in anything but your gigantic intellect.”
That seemed to wound him. He looked more vulnerable than usual. “Let me explain. We think Daniel sees angelic beings. Now it appears that Tank does, too. According to Tank, one admitted to being Daniel’s friend. And, of course, I had an encounter with something at the House. Maybe it was illusionary, I don’t know. Anyway, I don’t think Littlefoot is an angel. Not in the sense that we use the term today. Technically, the word angel means messenger, so anyone carrying a message is an angel. In that way, Littlefoot is an angel, but not an angelic being. Am I making sense?”
“I’m with you, Professor,” I said. “For a change.”
“This is hard to explain in a few words.” The professor inhaled as if he hadn’t taken a breath for an hour or so. “The world of science has turned things upside down of late. Quantum theory describes quantum entanglement, indicating that things in the subatomic world are somehow connected, at least in certain conditions. That deals with the very small things. On the cosmic level, many physicists believe that we live in a multiverse instead of a universe.”
“Meaning what?” Uncle Bart asked.
“The idea is that all we see is our universe, but ours is just one of many others. They’re similar but not identical to ours, and a new one is created each time we make a decision. And with so many decisions being made, these other universes can vary wildly. I know, I know. It’s difficult to fathom, but there are many excellent scientists who have hung their hats on the idea.
“Each universe is independent of the others, but there might be ways to cross over. Then there’s the whole multidimensional thing that is totally different. Lots of folks believe there are eleven or twelve dimensions. But that’s different because dimension deals mostly with spatial things. Most Christian thinkers, especially among conservative Protestants, believe that angels are beings from another dimension and can move between dimensions as is shown in the Bible. The truth is, there’s a lot we don’t know.”
I looked at him. “My head is beginning to hurt.”
He moved closer to the bed. “Don’t worry, Tank. I don’t expect you to understand. My guess, and that’s all it is at this point, is that Littlefoot is from another universe close to ours and somehow related to it. Time flows differently for her. That’s why she grows younger when she comes to us and why Daniel appeared older wherever you were. I assume you were in Littlefoot’s land.”
“You’re breaking my brain,” Brenda said.
I expected a cutting reply, but the professor let it pass. “I want to show you something.” He extracted his smartphone and took a photo of me, then showed me the picture. I saw a few bruises, but the most shocking thing was the hair on my face. I rubbed my chin with my good hand.
“How long does it take for your beard to grow that long?” The professor kept his eyes on me as I handed his phone back.
“A week and a half, maybe.”
“I missed the action, but they tell me the fight only lasted a few seconds.”
“It felt a lot longer than that.”
“When Littlefoot is here, she grows younger. When you were there, you grew older.”
“How can that be?” Uncle Bart wasn’t used to hearing such things.
“I don’t know, Sheriff. No one does. We are experiencing things that no one else has, and we don’t have enough information yet to give solid answers. Yet.”
“Yet?” Brenda lowered her head. “You sayin’ there will be more of this?” She added a term I’m uncomfortable repeating.
“Yes. Maybe the weirder stuff is yet to come.”
Andi touched my hand. Just a finger or two. “You should tell them the rest,” she said to the professor.
“It’s about the scroll.”
“You figured it out?” I hoped so. I don’t like puzzles.
“Not completely. It might be impossible to understand fully, especially if it’s a language from Littlefoot’s universe. However, I think Brenda was right when she began to wonder if the message that was handed to her at Andi’s was related. Some smart thinking there.”
Brenda snorted. “You make me blush.”
The professor ignored her. “Andi and I spent the time you were in surgery arguing over this and reviewing the document. The first note was in English, but it looked as if a non-English-speaking writer penned it. You already know—well, the sheriff doesn’t know since he wasn’t there—but the first note was a variation of a passage in Ezekiel. Ezekiel experienced some very odd things: multi-faced beings, winged angels, God’s throne on a set of wheels within wheels. We still don’t understand all that he saw. If he really saw them.” He raised a hand. “I know, I know, we’ve seen equally strange things.”
“What’s the point, Professor?” Brenda asked.
“I suspect that the verse given you was changed to fit our situation. Ezekiel was being set apart to be a watchman over Israel, and to call his people back to faith. Maybe we’re being called to do the same thing. Not to Israel, but to the world.”
“This is a calling, Professor?” I asked.
He looked like he was choking on a bone. “I think so. Tank, you’ve called us a team several times. I’ve always looked at our past adventures as a few bizarre happenings with no purpose, no message, no meaning. I’m not so sure now. We may be stuck with each other.”
“So what’s the mission?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I really don’t know. Andi has noticed a few things in common.”
“I need to give it deep thought, but we do know that in each case we’ve encountered opposition and things beyond this world, and it has taken our combined skills to solve the problem, even to save lives. I think we’ve just started our journey.” Andi sounded a little like the professor.
“Will you be able to read the whole scroll?” Uncle Bart asked the professor.
“I can’t. I’ve taken it as far as I can. I’ve sent digital photos to Cardinal Hartmann in the Vatican. If I may, I would like to send him the original document. I know he’s going to ask for it. He’s a genius with languages, and I’m hoping his contacts in the Vatican might help. Brenda’s message is from Ezekiel chapter three. It’s not a modification of a verse as I first suspected. I found the exact translation in a Messianic Bible. At least we can understand that message. I can’t be certain, but the two documents seem to be related.”
“Not knowing is as much a part of being human as knowing, Professor,” I said.
“Perhaps, Tank. Perhaps.”
Littlefoot set her milkshake down, walked to the bed, touched my hand, and smiled. Then she began to blur. At first I thought the drugs were affecting my vision, then I realized the creatu
re looked that way when it came to our world.
“No. No, stay, Littlefoot. I don’t want to lose you.” I tried to get up. The professor pushed me back in the bed.
“Let her go, son. She can’t stay here. She will just get younger and younger, then what? She needs to be in her home just like you need to be in yours.”
“But—”
“She has to go, Tank.”
Littlefoot waved at me, giggled at Daniel, then waved at the others.
She was gone, and with her, my joy.
Uncle Bart took me to his home the next day. He was holding a January barbecue for the others who were leaving later that evening. The snow around Uncle Bart’s house was all but gone, but the air was still cold, so most of us stayed in the house. Mr. Weldon, the diabetic rancher, had been invited. He stood outside by the barbecue while Uncle Bart kept a practiced eye on the grill. I watched through a window. I was a little too sore to be outside shivering. Weldon looked strong, spry, and healthy. He looked at me and raised a cup of whatever he was drinking in an unspoken toast.
I guess sometimes I do some good.
What’re you sketchin’ now?” Cowboy asked.
I flipped my notebook shut like a kid caught with porn.
The big guy smirked. “You know, Miss Brenda, you don’t have to keep hidin’ your gift under a bushel.”
I gave him a look. He gave me one of his good-ol’-boy shrugs. Daniel’s sittin’ on my other side and stifles a giggle.
I shoot him a look. “You think that’s funny?”
He grins and imitates Cowboy’s shrug.
I scowl. But the truth is I like that grin. It don’t happen much, but whenever it does, it warms somethin’ up inside me.
The sketch is a blue velvet armchair. It’s got peeling gold paint on its arms. I’ve been seeing it ever since we got on the plane to Rome. Never left my head. Not during the eight-hour flight with its crap food and rerun movies, not during Mr. Toad’s wild taxi ride from Da Vinci airport to the Vatican, and not as we sat on this butt-numbing wood bench listening to the professor lay into some pimply-faced, man-boy receptionist.
“Well, look again.” The old man waved at the computer screen. “Cardinal Hartmann. You do know what a Cardinal is, do you not? Cardinal Hartmann invited us to this location at this this particular date and this particular time to—”
“Mi scusi, Signor, but you cannot have an appointment with—”
“Blast it all, don’t tell me what I can and cannot have.”
“But, such a thing, it is not—”
“I’m sorry, are you part of some special-needs program?”
“Professor . . .” As usual, Andi, his ever-cheerful assistant, stepped in to try and prove her boss was a human being. As usual, the odds were not in her favor.
Meanwhile, Daniel scooted off the bench to get another drink of water. At least that’s what I figured. But the way he cocked his head upward like he was listening, told me one of his “friends” was around.
Miss Congeniality continued smoothing things over. “What the professor means is, we’ve just come from the airport. In fact, we haven’t even gone to our hotel because Cardinal Hartmann sent a very urgent and very personal request for us to visit him today.”
Cowboy and I traded looks. It was true. It hadn’t even been a month since the professor sent the Cardinal that scroll with the fancy writing on it. The one that some kid, supposedly from another universe, gave us. I know, I know, long story and I’m not in the mood. The point is, this Cardinal guy, who used to be the professor’s mentor back when the professor believed in God, begged us to come. He sweetened the deal by springing for our plane tickets. And since I couldn’t cash them in, and the professor had pulled some strings to get us some quick passports . . . well, here we were with our ol’ pals—stuck in some back-room reception area that smelled like old floor wax and old men.
I glanced over at Daniel. He’d passed the water fountain and stood at a wooden door built into the wall. Hardly visible. He looked back at me like he wanted something.
What? I mouthed.
He just stood there.
What?
Meanwhile, the professor cranked up his personality to super-jerk. “Okay, you do that.”
The receptionist got up and headed out of the room.
“Only make sure you bring back someone with a rudimentary understanding of communication skills.”
Daniel cleared his throat, real loud to get everyone’s attention. We turned to him and he reached for the door. He pushed it open and motioned for us to join him.
“What is it now?” the professor said. “Do you wish for us to follow? Do you believe there is something inside there?”
Daniel sighed like it was obvious. And for him it probably was. ’Cause like it or not, the kid heard things we never heard. Saw things we never saw. And whether the professor believed in any type of “higher power” or not made no difference. Our last couple of road trips made it clear Daniel was connected to something.
So, without another word, Dr. Stuffy-Butt headed over to join the boy. Something was up and he knew it.
So did Cowboy. “What’s goin’ on, little fella?” the big jock asked as he rose to his feet.
Daniel pointed to the open doorway. It was dark, but you could make out some real narrow steps. Me and Andi glanced at each other, then followed. None of us knew what was going on in that little head of his, but, whatever it was, it wouldn’t hurt to pay attention.
Selected Books by Bill Myers
NOVELS
Child’s Play
The Judas Gospel
The God Hater
The Voice
Angel of Wrath
The Wager
Soul Tracker
The Presence
The Seeing
The Face of God
When the Last Leaf Falls
Eli
Blood of Heaven
Threshold
Fire of Heaven
NON-FICTION
The Jesus Experience—Journey Deeper into the Heart of God
Supernatural Love
Supernatural War
CHILDREN BOOKS
Baseball for Breakfast (picture book)
The Bug Parables (picture book series)
Bloodstone Chronicles (fantasy series)
McGee and Me (book/video series)
The Incredible Worlds of Wally McDoogle (comedy series)
Bloodhounds, Inc. (mystery series)
The Elijah Project (supernatural suspense series)
Secret Agent Dingledorf and His Trusty Dog Splat (comedy series)
TJ and the Time Stumblers (comedy series)
Truth Seekers (action adventure series)
TEEN BOOKS
Forbidden Doors (supernatural suspense)
Dark Power Collection
Invisible Terror Collection
Deadly Loyalty Collection
Ancient Forces Collection
For a complete list of Bill’s books, sample chapters, and newsletter sign-up, go to www.billmyers.com or check out his Facebook page:
www.facebook.com/billmyersauthor
Selected Books by Frank Peretti
Illusion: A Novel
This Present Darkness
Piercing the Darkness
The Oath
Prophet
Tilly
The Visitation
Monster
www.frankperetti.com
www.facebook.com/officialfrankperetti
Selected Books by Angela Hunt
Roanoke
Jamestown
Hartford
Rehoboth
Charles Towne
Magdalene
The Novelist
Uncharted
The Awakening
The Debt
The Elevator
The Face
Let Darkness Come
Unspoken
The Justice
The Note
&n
bsp; The Immortal
The Truth Teller
The Silver Sword
The Golden Cross
The Velvet Shadow
The Emerald Isle
Dreamers
Brothers
Journey
Doesn’t She Look Natural?
She Always Wore Red
She’s In a Better Place
Five Miles South of Peculiar
The Fine Art of Insincerity
The Offering
Esther: Royal Beauty
Bathsheba: Reluctant Beauty
Delilah: Treacherous Beauty
www.angelahuntbooks.com
www.facebook.com/angela.e.hunt
Selected Books by Alton Gansky
By My Hands
Through My Eyes
Terminal Justice
Tarnished Image
Marked for Mercy
A Small Dose of Murder
A Ship Possessed
Vanished
Distant Memory
The Prodigy
Dark Moon
A Treasure Deep
Out of Time
Beneath the Ice
The Incumbent
Before Another Dies
Submerged
Director’s Cut
Crime Scene Jerusalem
Zero-G
Finder’s Fee
Angel
Enoch
Wounds
www.altongansky.com
Invitation Page 26