His Nana answered him quietly. Martha had to strain to hear her words. "Of course he would like to be able to save everyone, child. But no one can do that now. Gluskabe tells us that all the people of this world needed to change their ways a long time ago in order to protect our earth. But mankind was not able to do this. It is because of this that Gluskabe tells us that the time has come for the prophesy to be fullfilled. No one will be immune from the Great Purification."
Martha, who had heard enough, loudly interrrupted the older woman’s sentence. "What are all you guys doing in here on such a beautiful day? We wait all winter long for a day just like this and you’re going to spend it cooped up inside? Get out there and get the stink blown off you, go on."
She waited paitently, with her arms folded across her chest, as the kids quickly filed outside. She didn’t speak until the screen door had slammed shut for the last time.
"Nana, what am I going to do with you? I asked you to stop filling their heads with that nonsense. You are scaring the younger ones. Why are you doing this?"
"Gluskabe is counting on me to help spread the warning, I told you that, Martha.
People deserve to know what’s coming." Wanda stopped at the look in her grand-daughter’s eyes, sighing heavily. "You think I’m just a silly, old fool, don’t you girl?
Think your old Nana’s gotten soft in the head from age?" She continued with conviction at Martha’s lack of response. "Well, you think whatever you like about me. It doesn’t matter now anyway.
But you listen to me, girl. The time Gluskabe spoke of is almost here. There will be no where to hide from it. Not for any of us."
It was the damp chill in the early evening air that finally forced Sam inside the house hours later. She hurried through to the kitchen, flipping on lights as she went, unconsciously wanting to delay the impending onset of night. In the kitchen, she put the kettle on for tea. She went ahead to the study and turned the TV on before going back to the kitchen to prepare a tray for herself.
Ten minutes later she was comfortably settled in the old tapestried wing chair munching cheese and crackers, sipping her tea and watching the NBC Evening News.
Tom was giving the latest, up-to-date developments surrounding Pakistan’s game of brinksmanship with India over who had the biggest and best nuclear weapon.
The next news story was yet another grammar school shooting. This time in a sleepy little town somewhere in Pennsylvania. Children killing children .....
what does that mean?
As the news went drearily on with assorted murders, wife beatings and political faux pax’s, Sam lost what little appetite she had and put the tray aside. She was cold. She grabbed up the knitted afghan that rested on the hassock at her feet and wrapped her shoulders in it. It didn’t do much good. Her iciness was generated, not from the weather outside, but from the growing fear deep inside of her.
Chapter 19
It was going to rain very soon. Per could almost taste it. He stood silently only a few yards away from the house watching Sam. Partially hidden behind the massive trunk of an old maple tree, he remained absolutely still. Like an unmoving sentinel, he was content to quietly observe Sam as she intently watched the television.
Surreal, her face and hair constantly changes hues and tones from the flickering light of the screen in front of her. Per was reminded of the paintings of an artist named Klimt he had seen while in Vienna.
But despite the ever shifting shades, the very essence of her face continued to display what Samantha was. She was a good and loving person. Per found her to have an uncommonly high sense of both honesty and honor ....... two traits he found lacking in many humans. Per realized, much to his surprise, that he thoroughly enjoyed her company. He found Samantha Coley to be refreshing.
It started to rain softly, just a light, summer shower. The maple leaves directly over his head began to drip fat raindrops onto his hair and shoulders.
Either unaware or uncaring, Per remained motionless.
He was fully intent on watching Sam.
At last, only after Sam darkened and left the study, did Per silently slip away.
Had there been anyone there to have seen him, it would have been impossible to tell if the wetness running down his face was rain or tears.
Chapter 20
The next day started out shimmering with heat. It promised to be a true scorcher.
Sam awoke to the now familiar sounds of the house painters setting up for the day’s work. 7 AM by the digital. Right on schedule today, she thought as she tugged on old jeans and a T-shirt.
She made a cup of coffee for herself and then, on second thought, filled a large thermos with the steaming beverage and grabbed two mugs off the shelf. She made her way around to the back of the house, savoring the feel of the morning dew under her bare feet. Although still early, the morning sun singed her skin with heat. The rain showers throughout the night had left a fresh feeling on everything. Off in the distance Jericho Bay radiated blue under the wide expanse of sky devoid of any clouds.
Sam sat on the damp grass, her back against a tree sipping her coffee. Both men were high up on staging scraping the old paint off the second story. She contented herself for a bit watching Per work. His back already stained with sweat in the early heat, his muscles visibly rippled interestingly under his shirt as he moved back and forth. When, as if sensing her presence, he at last looked down and saw her, Sam waved the thermos as a bribe in the air. Per said something to William, who shook his head, and then climbed down the extension ladder.
"You look lovely this morning." He remarked, putting a light kiss on the top of her head as he joined her on the lawn.
"Not getting sleep must agree with me, than." said Sam as she poured from the thermos.
Instantly looking concerned, Per asked, "Not sleeping well? Are there worries?"
Now that’s an understatement, Sam thought grimly. Winding her arms about her bent knees, she looked sidelong at Per. I wish I knew you better, she thought.
As if he’d read her inner most thoughts, Per said softly, "You can trust me, Samantha. If you need someone, I am here."
Not receiving a reply, Per tossed the coffee off in one last gulp and said, "Back to work for me. Will I see you later?"
"Probably. There are only so many places you can go on this island." Sam replied lightly. Don’t be an asshole, she thought, as she watched his face fall somewhat.
"Would you like to come over this evening?" she finished lamely.
"Yes," he said decisively, "see you around eight."
Sam wandered back into the house. She could no longer delay what needed to be done.
By mid-afternoon she was filled with frustration. She had spent a good part of the day trying to reach Jake Gorham. She’d left countless messages both with his secretary and on his voice mail. By three o’clock she knew he had no intention of speaking with her. That’s right, Jake, use me and lose me, she thought disgustingly.
Picking up the phone, Sam hit redial one last time. "Sally," she stated without overture, "tell Jake if he doesn’t return my call by 4:00 he should be sure not to miss the 6:00 news tonight."
She had barely put the phone down when it rang shrilly. Sam counted the rings as she opened a new pack of Marlboros.
One ... two ... three ... four ... now, where did I put my lighter?
five ... six ... oh, here it is.
seven ... eight ... nine ... "Hello?"
"What the fuck kind of a game do you think you’re playing, Sam?" Jake was fuming.
"Why Jake, you seem ........ upset."
"Damn straight I’m upset. Do not - I repeat - do not even think about going to the press."
Sam immediately got serious. "Why is that, Jake?"
"This has top secret clearance and you damn well know it." Jake bite off.
"It’s being handled."
"Jake, there’s a great deal more than just contact going on here," Sam desperately tried to explain. "These communications have been sent for a specific reason."