Joseph’s home on the coast was impressive but empty. It was large, but it had few belongings and fewer people. They were the people he hired occasionally to clean and maintain, but Joseph never got to know them.
Now that he was back to this large, empty house he found himself less occupied than he would have liked. He immersed himself in catching up for the first few days, but those days went by quickly and soon left him behind, just as Margaret had done only days before.
He would stroll the beach and meet people who would never make eye contact, much less speak. They seemed to see him as a potential threat. He felt very sad.
One day a surfer approached him. The surfer was an older man, but trim and fit. Somehow, he looked familiar.
“So you let her go, you foolish mortal.”
“Pardon. Are you speaking to me?”
“There’s nobody else here, is there?”
“Sea birds.”
“Well, one good tern deserves another. So, when are you going to call/write/virtual…whatever you do these days?”
“What are you talking about? Who are you?”
The surfer was dark against a much lighter sky until he shifted position.
“Damn it. You’re Drake…without a uniform. Your hair and beard….”
“No advantage to being shape shifter if I can’t shift my shape, is there?”
“I guess not. So why did you come here? I’m having enough trouble disbelieving everything that’s been unbelievable.”
“You still have a job to do. You and your lady friend. Oh, don’t tell me she’s not. Remember, what we told you, on the moon, etc. You’ve got to rebuild the garden.”
“Margaret is the one who’s been to the garden. I don’t know much about it. Why do we need to rebuild it? It’s old. It can’t amount to much by now except as a ritual place, according to Margaret.”
“There are people there who are expecting you.”
“Look, I really don’t need any more mystery. I want something real.”
“This is real enough. Reality is a cornfield that existed long ago.”
Drake was lost in a shadow. And gone, as always.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Margaret at Home
“Marg, you seem so…forlorn. I know you didn’t find what you were looking for, but you got to go to the moon. To the far side even. I’d love to have a chance at that.”
“I can’t explain it, Lindsay. I know I am not myself. I feel…very lost.”
“This isn’t like you. Did something happen up there? Something you’re not, maybe, comfortable….”
“We’ve known each other a long time. If I could tell anyone, I’d tell you. But…it’s beyond telling. There are things that cannot be conveyed or understood. It’s beyond understanding.”
“I’m taking you at your word. But I hate to see you this way. You know you can talk to me. You know the Institute can provide resources to help if you need them. Some of these travels can be overwhelming sometimes.”
“Maybe that’s all it was. An overwhelming event. A lot of anticipation. And now the letdown. And I have these reports to finish, and I’m at a loss. I need to get back to Don, the one in the Henson garden. I think maybe that would bring some closure. He essentially sent me on this wild goose chase in the first place.”
“The original Pickering ship, you said. But it wasn’t there. And who took you to the alleged site? Maybe you need to talk with him some more. For some clues…help with the report.”
“Yes, maybe so.”
“All right. I’m going now. Call anytime. Really. Take care. And bye.”
“Bye for now. And thanks.”
The hologram dissolved. Margaret stood up in front of her desk, lost in her own office, lost in her own thoughts.
∆∆∆
Margaret at home felt herself encumbered. Yes, that is it. She was encumbered by a return to the drudgery of what had once been satisfying, or maybe she was encumbered by something more than that.
Upon her return, she had been greeted by the pleasantries customarily extended to colleagues who returned from field work. There had been some who expressed envy for what they called her splendid adventure, but there were others who had been on adventures of their own. If only you had been on a true scientific mission to Mars, they would imply…or say. Most of them had never been past the theme parks. The true Mars scientists had, for good reason, learned to keep the rest of the planet a tightly guarded domain.
Other academics looked upon her with disdain. She had wasted time and resources pursuing a clue of dubious value. There were so many cults with stories that led nowhere, and she had chosen to devote herself to a particularly specious one.
The combination of work, colleagues and friends, and her memories all vied for attention. Most demanding were the curious thoughts that she would not, and could not, yet acknowledge. She swam in their memories at night, awash in their waves….
She wanted to crawl back into her own personal space, maybe into its tiny cargo shelf. There she could feel safe amid danger and free within confinement. As long as she could claw, terrified, along its slowly tightening tunnels, she could feel the drive of possibilities.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Eclipse
The moon rose, already in total eclipse, its brilliant fullness transformed to a dark, angry red. “Blood on the moon” they called the phenomenon. The moon had turned to Mars.
Joseph was watching the eclipse from the beach near his home on a night that added chill to the darkness. He pulled his blanket tight against the cold, the swish-swash of wind and waves the only sound.
In earth’s shadow, the moon’s near side had become a dark side. The full moon had turned dark. Joseph thought of the irony and the parallel to his own life. He remembered a yellow river flowing off into space. It was one of many memories now filled with doubts.
He thought back to his personal journey to Mars. It seemed long ago now. It was so exciting then, but how could it compare to what he and Margaret had known? They had been propelled to infinities large and small and visited cornfields on the moon and earth with beings who were not there.
The moon was making its escape. The blood and the darkness would soon disappear, just as predicted. So predictable is an eclipse. So unpredictable has been his life.
He rose and shook the sand from his blanket. The full moon glared at him tauntingly. Did you not believe me? I told you what you have to do.
∆∆∆
Inside his home a hologram was waiting.
“Joseph, did you see it?” It was Margaret. She sounded intense.
“Margaret! It’s so good to hear from you! You’ve made my day.”
“I had to think of you. I always think of you. A lot. But the eclipse. It was more.”
“More than just an eclipse you mean?”
“Yes. The moon was speaking to us, Joseph. About our travels. About…unfinished business?”
“The garden.”
“Yes. We have to rebuild the garden. In our time. We are the only ones still living who have seen the original.”
“Or an image of the original. Yes, we need to go there. As soon as we can.”
“Yes. I’ll get a flight to SE Port. Can you meet me there? I guess I can ride cargo in your PSV again? In fact, I think I would like to.”
“You’ve got it. I’ll head on over to my PSV today. Let me know when you’ll arrive in SE Port.”
“Roger, Joseph. I copy!”
Margaret’s hologram smiled.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
To Grover
Margaret was enormously happy in the tiny cargo area of Joseph’s PSV. Her body was cramped but her soul had expanded mightily.
They were traveling directly from SE Port to Grover. Very soon the PSV would settle onto the old, broken pavement in front of what had once been Don Henson’s home. The derelict cornfield-turned-garden lay beyond.
∆∆∆
“We’ve been waiting for y
ou.” Cult-leader Don had appeared from a well-insulated tent. He looked like someone who had been in the woods for quite some time.
“Pleased to meet you. We’ve never actually met, but I’ve seen you several times by now. Just not here.” By now the people and other characters were all running together in Joseph’s mind. Had he actually seen “Cult Don” or just heard about him from Margaret?
“The moon has spoken to you,” said Ann. “You saw the eclipse.”
Joseph was sorting through his thoughts. “The eclipse was just an eclipse. It wasn’t unusual. But it was different somehow, especially when it ended. It did seem to speak, but I don’t know how.”
“I don’t think it was the moon, actually speaking.” Margaret was unsure of her reply and merely stated the obvious, to her immediate regret. “Anyway, we’ve been on what seemed like various journeys. They all seemed to direct us back here. So there must be something to this…message.”
“There is no meaning to where you have been. You have always been here.” Cult Don was cryptic as always. Margaret wondered about the source of his thinking. What has he experienced? Has he seen what we have seen?
“We need to find out who has jurisdiction over what used to be the Henson property. We are wanting to restore the garden. I think you probably know why.”
“Why is not important. What is important is that you do.”
Margaret added, “And we’d like to build a museum here too. This is an important historic site. We need to preserve what is actual and also re-create what used to be here so that it can be seen in its original condition.”
From Ann: “This is a sacred site. We don’t want it upset or overrun.”
“No, no. This will require careful planning. We want what exists now to be expertly preserved. And we want a faithful re-creation. This will not be a theme park. It will be given the reverence it deserves. Visitations will be controlled. Its primary purpose will be scholarly work.”
“Like Mars,” said Joseph, “Mars outside the theme parks.” He remembered how hard it had been to get a permit to fly briefly outside the delineated tourist areas on Mars. Even so, the restrictions had been severe.
“Since that which is known in spirit is not subject to private ownership, we have no knowledge of jurisdictions. We will work with whomever we need to in order to maintain this as a sacred site. And we will do what we need to do to protect it.”
∆∆∆
“I hope we’ve secured some degree of cooperation from Don and his cult people. I guess we should at least learn what they call themselves. Do you know?” Joseph asked Margaret later.
“Strangely I don’t. I never thought to ask if they have a name other than the ones they give when they introduce themselves individually. But I guess we need to reach out to whatever local authorities exist here.”
∆∆∆
The town of Grover, what was left of it, was not far away. But it took time for an autocar to become available. Joseph did not think he should land the PSV in the middle of town, even though he knew he could. In the meantime, Margaret recorded notes and photographs. Joseph made a few sketches as an attempt to reconcile what he was seeing with his memory of when they spent time in the Henson home with the oblivious Sewing Sue.
“I wish we had our notes from then. Every time we made some, and you made sketches, they would become lost with each change in scenery.”
“Maybe these will stay with us. Ah…here’s the autocar.”
The trip into Grover did not take much time, and there was very little to see on the way. There was a scattering of dilapidated buildings only Margaret could identify. She pointed out some ancient stations for dispensing fossil-based fuels, all of which evidenced scrubby vegetation struggling through broken pavement.
The autocar stopped in front of a nondescript building in the middle of town.
“Where do we go to find the people in charge here?” Joseph asked a man sitting on a park bench.
“What people you talkin’ ‘bout? Ain’t nobody in charge here.”
“There must be somebody. A mayor? City council? Police?”
“We don’t need no police here.” He slapped a bulge in a large pocket. “We take care of things.”
“We need to find out the status of the former Henson property.” Margaret did not know what else to say.
“Henson? That overgrowed place? All them hippies hang out there. Been there are long as I can remember.”
“We want to rebuild the garden,” said Joseph.
“If you wanna build something there, just do it. Run them hippies off. That’d be an improvement.”
“What’s a hippie?”
“You ain’t from ‘round here, are ya?”
Margaret drew Joseph away from the park bench. “We’re not going to get anywhere with him. Do you suppose all we have to do is to start building?”
“How are we going to find anybody who can build anything? I don’t see evidence of any building happening here in a long time. In any case, how are we going to raise money to do this? We’ll have to bring in labor, materials, everything.”
“It seems impossible. I don’t know if I can get Cartwright interested in this after all. And I don’t think Drake is going to convince them.”
“What about the ‘hippies’ as the guy calls them? Maybe they can landscape?”
“But that’s not a museum.” Margaret looked almost as disappointed as she actually was.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Hippies
“So you are The Hippies?” Joseph asked.
“What do you mean by that?” Cult Don was puzzled.
“That’s what a man in Grover said that you’re called.”
“It is not. We have no name, not as a group.”
“Oh…he was wrong then?”
“I am not familiar with the term.”
“It’s very old,” said Margaret. “Twentieth-century even. A name given to some who lived freely, not following contemporary cultural norms. Sometimes involved in drugs, sex, music, pacifist causes.”
“We are pacifists,” said Cult Don. “Our purposes are here, to preserve and to have reverence for this sacred site.”
“Which we also want to preserve. But Drake, Colonel Drake…do you know him?” Margaret found herself asking.
“We know of his memorial stone.”
"He was in The Book."
“He has…visited…us. He says we must rebuild this garden. The way it was originally. But we don’t know how to do that, not here.”
“That is very interesting. We should meditate on the meaning of ‘rebuilding’. The word in this sense may not mean what you think. We will schedule another ritual. Would Joseph wish to attend?”
“Yes, yes. I’d like to see. Oh you don’t know what I’ve been through already. Maybe Drake will show up too.”
∆∆∆
The meditation this time was nothing more than that. Ritual Don gave his customary spiel, and there was no meaning to this or that. Margaret was disappointed. Joseph thought it was a bunch of bunk. That was the term he whispered to Margaret. Drake did not appear. Neither did any aliens or their manifestations.
In the aftermath, Joseph and Margaret quietly discussed what the term “rebuilding” could mean.
“Maybe Drake’s going to appear and do the rebuilding. It appears that no one really cares what we do here.”
“I can’t use any Cartwright funds if we can’t get any kind of clear title to the land. That limits us considerably. I’m afraid that Drake and friends are going to have to help us, if they want something done here.”
“Now what was so special about this ‘ritual’? Nothing out of the ordinary happened. It certainly didn’t resemble the dream you described.”
“No. It wasn’t like the previous ritual at all, even without the dream. Not in the way it felt. The words were familiar, but they didn’t seem to work.”
“Well, we need to get back to Grover and find a place to stay. I hope we aren’
t sleeping on a park bench tonight.”
“There must be a shelter there. I suppose we can sleep in the autocar if we have to. I’d better make sure we have it longer.”
“There’s the PSV. But I don’t think you’d want to sleep in cargo.”
“I’d put you in cargo this time, Joseph.”
Joseph’s smile was very weak and not very sincere.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Grover and Beyond
Margaret and Joseph finally located a very run-down bed and bedfast in Grover.
“We used to have all kinds of folks stay here. They’d come to visit that Henson place. My grandpa said this place would be full all the time. But nobody’s been here in a while. I’m afraid your room will be a bit dusty. We can’t maintain it without any guests.”
“I’m surprised you’re still open at all. If you don’t have any business….”
“Oh, it’s not to make any money. Nobody makes any money ‘round here. None to speak of anyway.”
“How do you get by?”
“Well, there ain’t many things to spend money on either. We all own our places and utilities are free. So it’s just food. We have the little grocery store, or we can go to the big town.”
“The big town?”
“That’s what we call it. Used to be bigger. Anyway, I’ll pull those sheets off the furniture and get you some towels. It’s quiet here at least.”
Joseph and Margaret pulled down the bedspreads and looked at the sheets.
“Well, I don’t see anything alive,” Joseph said.
“I’ll just think of it as field work. I’ve stayed in worse.”
“It’s not quite as exotic as some of Drake’s places. We don’t have to feel for the doors or get sucked up by a machine.”
“And it’s not freezing.” Margaret lay on her back and stared at the ceiling, wondering if somehow she was going to see stars.
∆∆∆
And she did. The stars appeared at some time during that night. They danced and played above the dissolved ceiling while Joseph slept soundly.
Personal Space- Return to the Garden Page 10