Rest Awhile

Elise loved the universe—and Beyond. It was mutual.

But the facts remained. Her friends and relations contradicted nearly everything she said, and her husband grinned wickedly whenever she used the words, “I’ve been thinking…”

Yet the oaks and maples swayed in exuberant joy whenever she strolled near the tree line bordering their property. Almost as if they spoke through motion, “Welcome, friend. Lay down your burdens. Rest awhile.”

If only—

A small body barreled into her. Jody, her youngest, was master of the yard and could roam from the front lawn to the back barbecue with complete freedom. Still, once she stepped off the porch, he inevitably pelted her direction and threw his arms around her legs as if he had not seen her for—what? How do six-year-olds measure time? Hours? Days? Clearly not years since he believed that she was older than the moon.

“Mom?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Can you play with me?”

Her shoulders sagged. His plea weighed on her shoulders like a boulder carried over a turbulent stream. The clicking-clacking sound of the drier rolled in the background. Must’ve left Clifton’s belt on his pants… She winced at the image of metal scraping metal.

“Deb?”

Her husband stood on the porch.

Deb shaded her eyes from the bright May sun. “Yes, honey?”

“You seen my belt?”

A number of lies jumped to the tip of her tongue. Would evasive half-truths work? “Uh…”

“It’s in the drier!” Jody beamed, proud of the “eagle eye” Daddy assured him he was born with. “Mom threw it in there.”

Caught like a rat in a trap.

“Hon-eeey!” That last drawn-out syllable said it all.

In desperation, Deb glanced at the trees. The maple branches swayed wildly though the wind wasn’t strong. Their offer of friendship stretched across the yard in a valiant attempt to calm her turbulent stomach.

She patted her son’s head. “I can’t play now; we’ve got company coming for dinner. But Uncle Ben is always up for a game of catch.”

Jody’s eyes widened. Uncle Ben—like superman—flew in, amazed anyone under the age of seven, and then flew away like a superhero ready to accomplish his next mission.

The gleeful little boy shouted and frightened a robin from her nest. She fluttered to a higher branch while the boy dodged around his dad intent on serious matters. Perhaps he’d clean his room? Fling his books and toys on the floor looking for a treasure to show his uncle more like.

Clifton plunked down the steps. His irritation over the belt forgotten in light of this newest doom. “Ben? Tonight?”

The branches slowed, subdued by the grim news. Another robin fluttered near and chirped a brave song of defiance.

There was never a good night for Ben, according to Clifton. Opposites on politics, religion, and how to properly open a can of beer, they saw eye-to-eye on absolutely nothing. Except mutual distrust bordering on hate. On that, they might actually agree.

“He asked if he could come by… What could I say? He wants to see Jody.”

Clifton gave her THE LOOK—head down, eyebrows up, eyes searing her brain like laser beams. “It took the man three years to realize that his nephew’s name isn’t Joel.”

The maple limbs drooped. A few baby leaves quivered. The joy of living barely vibrated in the still air.

“He wants to care.” Weariness enveloped Deb. The drier stopped with a long screech like a train arriving at the station. She could retrieve the clothes, return the missing belt, and lift one guilty burden off her shoulders. Jody would play with Ben and—whoosh—another guilt-rock would roll away. For a few minutes.

Her husband snorted.

Her spirits smashed to earth. She stared at the ground. Or was it quicksand?

“Well, if he’s coming, I’m going. I’ve got some work I can do at dad’s.”

Deb nodded. It was the most reasonable solution. “You want me to send some of the fried chicken over? You two could make a—”

“Naw. I’ll get pizza. We’ll be fine. He’ll scream at the politicians on TV and then fall asleep after a couple of bites.” He shrugged. “You know how he is. Never happy. But at least I can fix the bathroom sink in peace and quiet.”

Torn, Deb knew that Clifton would mutter under his breath when he couldn’t find some tool or another, but he’d get the job done. He always did.

The phone buzzed in her pocket. She grabbed it. Lia? Deb tensed, ready for anything between a molehill and an atomic explosion.

Clifton frowned.

She showed him the name and then plastered the phone to her ear. “Hey, Lia!” Her tone sounded much too cheerful.

Three states away, Lia could still moan like a cow mooing directly in your ear. “I’m soooo siiiick! Mom’s taking me to the doctor.” Sniff. Cough-cough. “I just want you to know that if she crashes us or something, it isn’t my fault.”

After living a thirty-year soap opera, Deb knew her lines perfectly. She used the right pitch, oohhed and awed appropriately, and hit the end button as soon as decently possible.

She looked up. The real world still existed. Except, now her husband was stomping away from the fence bordering the Chelsea Estate. Or such was the name etched into an enormous boulder at the base of their neighbor’s fifteen-foot driveway.

“Something wrong?”

“That witch says Jody plays too loud in the morning and wants us to keep him inside till ten so she can get her beauty sleep.”

Deb winced. “Well, he does get rather loud—inside or outside. I’ll have a talk with him and find something quiet he can do till mid-morning.”

“No wonder she’s always running to a therapist after every breakup. No sane human being would put up her with.”

“She’s had a hard life.”

Clifton slapped his hand against his cheek, his eyes alarmingly wide. “Of her own making.”

There was no point in denying the obvious. “I’ll get your belt.” Deb sighed and clasped the porch railing.

Rolling his shoulders, Clifton clearly wanted to start the day over. He stepped in front of her. “It’s okay. I’ll get it.” His face flushed pink. “I spilled some taco sauce on it the other day—it needed a wash.” He patted her arm, a quick massage with his thumb. A smile twitched, his eyes laughing. “I don’t know how you do it.”

A gust of wind sent delicious shivers over her skin, and the rustle of leaves tickled her ears. “What?”

“Put up with us.” Her husband chuckled. “Your brother’s an idiot and my dad’s a tyrant.” He climbed the porch steps. “Your sister’s crazy, the neighbor has a screw loose, and the world’s going to hell.” He stopped in the doorway and grinned back at her. “Yet you never seem to care.”

Deb watched her husband saunter into the house. He whistled a happy tune. All his irritations blown away like dust on the wind.

The tree limbs begged with frantic waves for her to come and visit.

She strolled over. Reaching up, she stroked the smooth bark and soft leaves. The rustling leaves danced in frantic joy.

Her spirit responded in kind.

Lifting her face to the sun, she closed her eyes and abandoned herself. Every sense in her body—and Beyond—filled with peace. “I do care.”

Novels by A. K. Frailey

Science Fiction

Last of Her Kind  http://amzn.to/2y1HJvg

Newearth: Justine Awakens http://amzn.to/2pq0vWN

Historical Fiction

Melchior—Vengeance Is Mine http://amzn.to/2taeW2r

Historical Fiction & Science Fiction Blend

OldEarth ARAM Encounter https://amzn.to/2KLhlsN

OldEarth Ishtar Encounter https://amzn.to/2OAkDQF

OldEarth Neb Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Georgios Encounter (In production)

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho http://amzn.to/2sLfcI5

Inspirational Non-Fiction

HeartBeats—Spiritual Being, Human Journey  https://amzn.to/2KvF3Ll

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings http://amzn.to/2lWBd0z

Short Stories

It Might Have Been—And Other Short Stories https://amzn.to/2XXdDDz

What Are We Searching For?

I decided to check the final 2018 stats on my blog this week. Nearly gave myself a heart attack. Not that it was bad…but the reality of the numbers and the fact that the globe was almost completely covered overwhelmed me. 65 countries have logged into my website this year, many of them multiple times. Even hundreds of times. The US, of course, topped the list with over 4000 views.

I’m from the generation where globetrotting was considered unusual. Travel abroad was for those with money and means. Granted, I grew up in a house where foreign students boarded with us from all over, so I understood the multicultural reality of our planet.

But websites and blogging have tightened the embrace.

On a given day, I may interact with people from half a dozen countries. And I might not even realize it. I’m used to calling my dad and asking about the weather in Kansas, but it still feels weird to ask a friend what the weather is like today in India. Or to be checking world time zones to see if someone would be available for a chat. And to consider that normal.

My kids play online games with people from all over the globe. But they don’t see it as unusual. They’ve grown up with it. They may not be multilingual except for high school level Spanish or German, but they manage to make headway in a world dominated by computer technology.

Back in the day, science fiction really was really fiction. Nowadays, we have nearly everything Captain Kirk had—but better. Granted we don’t travel to distant galaxies…or do we? We’re building telescopes that can reach to the edge of the universe. That’s a pretty big reach. We’re exploring planets, stars, black holes, and outer space like never before in human history.

At the same time, we’re discovering more about our universe on the opposite end of the spectrum. Go small and discover a whole new world. Look inside and travel deep into the microstructure of life.

It isn’t just that we are interconnected, but we’re a world changing at super speed at the same time. If Adam and Eve chomped on an apple for knowledge…I’d say we must be getting pretty close to the core.

Or maybe not.

God is infinite. Our search may go on forever.

Which begs a question: What are we searching for?

I remember returning to the US from the Peace Corps in the Philippines and realizing that there was a lot of work that needed to be done in my own hometown. In my own family. I hardly needed to go across the planet to find a cause to live for, a love to die for, or a purpose to give meaning to my day.

I’m glad that my website reaches so many countries, and I’m glad that my kids are living in such illuminating times. But I can’t help but wonder if we tend to look up when we should also look in. We’re peering at a screen when we should be gazing into a pair of eyes.

Am I tapping a pad, when I might be holding a hand?

Yes, I reached around the globe this past year, but have I touched a heart today?

Maybe I should tighten the embrace…indeed.

Novels by A. K. Frailey

Science Fiction

Last of Her Kind  http://amzn.to/2y1HJvg

Newearth: Justine Awakens http://amzn.to/2pq0vWN

Historical Fiction

Melchior—Vengeance Is Mine http://amzn.to/2taeW2r

Historical Fiction & Science Fiction Blend

OldEarth ARAM Encounter https://amzn.to/2KLhlsN

OldEarth Ishtar Encounter https://amzn.to/2OAkDQF

OldEarth Neb Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Georgios Encounter (In production)

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho http://amzn.to/2sLfcI5

Inspirational Non-Fiction

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings http://amzn.to/2lWBd00

Omega’s Homecoming

omegas-returnAcross the darkness, a voice called.

“Father?”

A circle of light appeared and in the center stood a young man dressed in a short, burgundy tunic, black leggings, and a royal purple cape with a dashing short sword stuck in his belt. He bowed low.

Another man appeared, older and grayer, wearing a long, black cloak over a white tunic. The elder nodded to the younger, a half-smile glinting through his eyes. “Obsessed aren’t you, Last One?”

The young man grinned and, waving one hand majestically against the outer darkness, a humble village appeared with a medieval castle perched on the top of a low hill.

“An obsession you once shared, Father.” The son shuffled along the dirt path leading to the hill. “Call me Omega, now. It sounds so much more…hopeful. After all, your last is not my end.” A grin took the edge off his bitterness.

The father trod along at his son’s side, his hands clasped behind his back. “True. Though we all face an end—sometime. Remember that.” He glanced around at the villagers bustling amongst myriad thatched huts and fenced yards, hurrying to their daily business, offering low bows of obeisance as he passed. He tipped his head in a lordly fashion, earning wide-eyed curtsies from the women and squared shoulders from the men. “Besides, I was never obsessed. Not like you. Interested. Merely interested.” He glanced at the castle as he climbed the cobbled incline. “Your mother awaits.”

Omega twirled around as he locked his gaze on a pretty maiden. Tearing himself away, he trotted after his father. “Humans are my favorite. I believe they always will be. I’m making them my specialty.”

The father grunted as he twitched a branch off of a nearby tree. Peering at the stick, it suddenly transformed from a ragged twig into a beautifully carved walking staff. He tapped the staff on the paving stones leading to the castle gates—huge, ornate affairs with burly soldiers guarding each side. “You have many races to choose from—don’t be too hasty to pick a favorite. Keep your mind open.”

Throwing his arms wide, Omega appeared to embrace the entire village. “Oh, Father! Humans are the best. Cresta minds are so narrow and small, forever focused on science, pretending to be logical while lying to themselves; Ingots and Uanyi are like children inside mechanical bodies, and the Bhuacs, well they are intriguing. So versatile. Pity they’ve been decimated so often. They’re not nearly as resilient as humans.”

A bell tolled from the castle’s highest tower. Both men looked up, the father with a sigh and the son with adoration. The father waved his stick at the village throng. “Humans retain their barbarism for just such a purpose. They could never survive without it.”

Omega raced up the last paces to the gates and turned before the guards, his arms wide, a gleam shining through his eyes. “And what are we—without zoos and life studies? Surely those that live in our villages would consider us nothing more than oppressors—if they knew.”

The father stepped passed his son and gestured to the guards who promptly pulled open the heavy gates. He spoke over his shoulder. “If they knew. My point exactly.” He waved his son into the inner courtyard. Pages and squires bustled, leading horses to open stalls while stately nobles stood aside, clustered in private consultation. The sound of a hammer striking metal on the left told the tale of other industries near at hand.

“But, Father, they must know, in their own way—”

“They know they are oppressed because they struggle against it always—even when it isn’t there.” The father stared ahead as a woman appeared in the doorway of the keep. A youthful woman wearing an ornamental dress with a golden belt tied around her waist and thick hair falling across her shoulders smiled at them.

The father hurried his steps.

Omega hustled at his father’s side. “One day, Father, I will test your theory. I’ll create one of my own and—”

His father stopped and spun on his heel, glowering. “You can create nothing! Don’t speak like a fool. Your studies have made you forget your limits.”

Chastened, Omega lowered his gaze. “I just want to discover how far their natures will expand….”

With a huff of impatience, the father brushed his son’s words aside. “Someday you will realize that not all questions need to be answered. It fact, it is best if they aren’t.” He gazed at the woman, his scowl instantly replaced by a gleam of joy. He stared into the woman’s sparkling eyes. “I’ve brought him home—at last.”

Omega rushed forward and embraced the woman. “Sorry it took me so long, Mother, there was so much to see and do!”

The woman threw back her head and laughed as she wound her arms around her son in a warm embrace. “You never change! Always insatiable! Come, I’ve prepared a feast, just as you like it, warriors and roasted venison abound!”

Omega, with his arm around his mother, entered the confines of the keep. His father sighed as he looked after them, shaking his head and murmuring, “He’d devour the universe—if he could.”

~~~

Novels by A. K. Frailey

Science Fiction

Last of Her Kind  http://amzn.to/2y1HJvg

Newearth: Justine Awakens http://amzn.to/2pq0vWN

Historical Fiction

Melchior—Vengeance Is Mine http://amzn.to/2taeW2r

Historical Fiction & Science Fiction Blend

OldEarth ARAM Encounter https://amzn.to/2KLhlsN

OldEarth Ishtar Encounter https://amzn.to/2OAkDQF

OldEarth Neb Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Georgios Encounter (In production)

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho http://amzn.to/2sLfcI5

Inspirational Non-Fiction

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings http://amzn.to/2lWBd00