I want this done yesterday! We can expect stragglers
to start arriving, and I'll be damned if they'll find
us out in the open!
His non-commissioned companion, Sergeant Hammond, is hurrying to catch up to
the general. Shorter and slight of build, he looks up at the general, his
voice full of worry.
Sir, I still haven't been able to get through to my
wife and kids. None of us have.
General Flood snaps back.
I told you that'd have to wait! We've got bigger
worries than that right now.
As General Flood and Sergeant Hammond continue walking toward the construction
site, another couple steps out from the tree bank. Jonah is wearing jeans and
a white shirt worn thin by many washings, his dusty boots and ruffled hair
attesting to his careless attitude toward appearances. He is standing next to
a tall Zeta whose post thin body and stick arms are almost shocking when seen
side by side next to the slender Jonah. The Zeta is gesturing toward the
receding military men, his face turning toward Jonah, silently communicating.
In response to this telepathic conversation, Jonah replies.
I know. They stole it from a contactee. But they
don't have much besides the shape. It's not like our
domes.
The Zeta puts his hand on Jonah's shoulder, and glancing up, Jonah replies in
agreement.
Yeah, I know, before we're spotted.
47
At this both, of them rise in the air a few feet and float off, backwards and
away from the scene before them, then dissolving into another dimension.
_______________________________
Jonah and his Zeta companion walk up through the mist in the direction of the
camera, out of the trees that are surrounding a natural clearing. Jonah says,
The injured you brought in have been getting restless
and want to help with the work, they've been asking
for a role.
They are walking toward a large silver dome, toward the entry port at the
ground level.
Off to this side there are several thin Zetas, transporting injured people or
assisting those too weak to walk into the domed city from a dull gray saucer
shaped craft suspended a couple feet off the ground. Those who can't walk are
being transported by levitation, their prone bodies floating alongside a
walking Zeta who is apparently in charge of the levitation and transport.
Billy is out digging for potatoes in a field behind the tent city. It is
gloomy as though early dawn, the trees along the creek starkly outlined
against the gray sky. Their leaves have fallen off, not as they do in fall
when they color and then drop, but because about half have turned a sickly
yellow and dropped while the remaining leaves are still green. Billy is
scrapping and chopping at the soil with a short hoe and digging tool, turning
the earth, looking for potatoes.
He has a cloth sack lying on the ground beside him, lumpy with the few
potatoes he has found. He is dusty and frankly dirty in places, as much from
his work as from infrequent baths. Billy looks solemn and forlorn, with a
slight frown on this face. Billy drops to his knees to dig by hand, failing to
notice that he is no longer alone.
Suddenly Billy notices a thick gray Zeta foot, developed over eons to deal
with a heavy gravity draw, and the thin leg above it. The foot appears to be
booted in a seamless gray material. Billy sees the foot and freezes, but does
48
not look concerned. He eases back into a sitting position, putting his legs
out in front of him a bit, and looks up, squinting.
The Zeta holds a capped vial of smoky colored glass. The long slender fingers
in the Zeta hand are wrapped around the vial, held in place by just a hint of
a thumb, a bump where the thumb should be. Billy starts talking to the Zeta as
though he has been doing this all his life, as though there were nothing
unusual about the scene. He blurts out, in a natural and relaxed voice, as
though talking to a family member he trusts, speaking quickly and with fervor.
She just won't talk to any of us.
At this tears well up in his eyes. Billy continues, with a quiver in his
voice.
She stares at me like she doesn't see me.
His breath quickening as though he were about to start crying in earnest,
tears starting to stream down his face.
I asked her to come with me, digging, so we could skip
stones like we used to, and she didn't even say
nothing. Nothing!
Billy wipes the tears away with the palm of his hand against one cheek,
suddenly jerking his head up and looking clear faced at the Zeta, whose face
we never see. There is a moment of silence as he is obviously listening to
something intently. He glances at the vial and raises his hand to take it
from the Zeta. He smiles slightly through his dusty tears, glancing at the
Zeta briefly during this, by way of thanks.
_______________________________
Though it is mid-day, it is still gloomy, as though a very overcast day during
early dawn at the ranch city. Martha is sorting laundry, looking for items to
be mended, seated on a chair in an open area, the laundry scattered about her
in little piles on the ground. Her two children are behind her on the grass,
Billy bringing Tammy what appears to be a glass of water. Billy sits down
beside her, holding the glass up near her face. Tammy weakly raises a hand,
and Billy uses his own hand in addition to her hand to steady the glass as she
raises it.
Issues around the food shortage and what to eat have come up continually
lately, with creative meal-making resulting. Martha cooks what she and Red
decide is good to eat, and the others are told not to ask. This has included
atypical menu items such as earthworms picked up off the damp grass after the
last rain and some slow moving possums Red has caught, as well as edible
weeds.
49
Big Tom strides in to talk to his wife, squatting before her so they can talk
face to face. He looks up into her face.
We're out, plumb out, and the canned goods are going
fast too.
Martha is unperturbed, as she and Red noticed this long before the others.
She keeps on mending through all of this without missing a stitch, though
looks up and into her husbands eyes a lot, letting him know she has heard him.
She smiles.
Red is bringing some possum back, and I've got some
special soup tonight, you'll see, it'll be all right.
Big Tom pauses, then rises to his feet.
Special soup?
Martha starts picking the laundry up off a pile, folding it on her lap as