"What reason would that be, Sam?" queried Jake in a bored voice.
"I’m not sure yet,’ stammered Sam, "but I do know there’s much more to this than we initially thought. I have something interesting to show you." She looked down at the tiny, opaque disc sitting on her desk. "Our investigation is not finished
...... it’s just beginning. Please Jake, you have to help me with this."
"Sam," Jake sounded as if he were speaking through gritted teeth, "I like you, kid, always have even though you’re such a constant pain in the ass. So I’m going to tell you something for your own good. Forget everything you know and everything you think you know. There never was any confirmed contact. There never was a high level meeting. You and I have never had this conversation. It’s all that simple."
After a moment, Sam asked quietly, "What if I go public with this anyway?"
"No one would believe you if you told them" were his last words before the connection was killed.
This time, when the phone rang, Sam jumped. Perhaps Jake has changed his mind, she thought hopefully as she picked up. But it was Martha’s strained voice that came from the other end.
"Can I come over? I’m loosing my people skills here."
Sam laughed, "Martha, you never had any people skills."
By the time Martha arrived, Sam had a tray of frothy drinks ready. "You sounded like you could use one of these," she said as she led the way across the lawn to the gazebo.
"Didn’t we love playing in here when we were little." Martha remembered as she settled onto a bench with her drink. "It was a magical place."
"Still is." replied Sam, looking around her. The gazebo was overrun with bittersweet vines. For years now there had been no one to train them, so they ran randomly in every direction, twisting this way and that. In many places the vines and leaves were so dense that the gazebo’s lattice work was barely distinguishable. It had become the perfect hide-away.
"So," Martha hesitated for a quick sip, "ever heard of Gluskabe?"
Sam looked at her friend keenly, "That’s the name you used the other day, isn’t it?"
"Yup. Nana’s driving me nuts with it." Martha sighed heavily, "Gluskabe is an Abenaki deity - sort of the original watcher over all creation since the very beginning of time. It seems that Nana’s been having him in for tea."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. Nana claims she’s been having visits from him. Not only does she say she sees him, but he’s supposedly speaking to her, as well."
"Jesus, Martha. I don’t know what to say." Sam was stunned, Wanda, despite her age, had always seemed so completely coherent.
"I know," replied Martha in a wearied voice, "Thing is, she’s frightening my boys with these Gluskabe stories."
"Why would they be frightened by only a myth?"
"Well, Sam, it would appear that Gluskabe visits Nana for a reason other than just her good company. She says he’s here to explain the end of the world - which is due any day now, according to Nana."
Chapter 21
The second Per saw her, he knew she was upset. It wasn’t anything that she actually said, for she remained as reticent as ever. No, he knew by watching her hands. Sam had beautiful hands. Long, tapered fingers meant to play a musical instrument skillfully. Tonight, those hands could not seem to hold still. Per tore his focus from her hands and paid attention to what she was saying.
"Do you ever watch the news casts on TV?"
"Of course," replied Per.
"I can’t believe everything that is happening right now." Sighed Sam.
"The total global situation seems to be getting worse each day."
"What makes you say things are getting worse?" asked Per.
Sam was surprised at that question. "How can you ask that? God, just turn on the TV or pick up a paper! Wars, genocide, so-called ethnic cleansings seem to be happening everywhere. These days, it seems that if people aren’t literally killing each other off they are, at the very least, chronically lying to each other. From the heads of nations on down. When the hell did having morals become a liability?"
Per sat quietly for a moment before replying. "Perhaps, everything is the same it has always been since the very beginning of mankind. The simple difference between 1998 BC and 1998 AD may only be the advent of media coverage."
"What do you mean?"
"I am saying that it is only within the last fifty years or so that the masses have no longer been sheltered from the harsh realities of the world around them.
Television, newspapers, radios, computers ........ people now have instant, multi-media global access. Through you evening TV newscasts, you are now able to get a steady daily diet of war, famine, disease and disasters ..... all streaming into your home by way of a little, square box plugged into the wall.
It makes it impossible to stay uninformed."
"Are you saying that people have always been this wretched?" asked Sam.
"I think, Samantha, that kindness has possibly never been an innate trait of this civilization. After all, it wasn’t until 1945 that the notion of Crimes Against Humanity was even conceived."
"What an odd way of putting things you have, Per." Once again, Sam realized how little she knew about him. She tried to recall what knowledge she had of Scandinavians and quickly realized it was extremely limited. Despite the passion and caring she had found in him, there seemed to be an esoteric edge to Per.
Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, yet the feeling nagged at her.
"Enough of this distressing talk of war and corruption. Come have another glass of wine with me and then I must leave. It is getting late."
Sam accepted the glass Per held out to her. By tacit agreement they spoke of other things for a time. Far more pleasant topics. It became quite late and Sam, to her abashment, could no longer suppress her frequent yawns.
"I will go now and let you get some much required sleep." Per grinned, as he started to rise from the couch. But Sam stopped him with a light hand on his arm.
"Stay tonight."
"Are you sure?" questioned Per.
"I’m sure," Sam replied firmly. "Besides, you must admit, it would certainly be convenient. You’d already be at work in the morning."
Much later, after Sam had fallen into a deep sleep, Per softly left the house and rapidly walked out to Hockamock Head. As he silently made his way, he surveyed Happy Joyce’s property. All appeared tranquil. Both Happy and Spike were apparently slumbering soundly. Per walked to the very edge of the cliff overlooking the water and patiently waited. He knew they were coming. He had been receiving internal signals all day. It was just a matter of time now.
Chapter 22
Per had been mistaken. Despite the fact that his house stood entirely dark, Happy was not asleep. In fact, he was wide awake. One of the admittedly few benefits of achieving old age was the reduced requirement for sleep. Stretched out comfortably in the old Chevy’s back seat, with Spike asleep on the floor beside him, Happy had just begun to think about dozing off when he’d heard someone approaching. Spike’s hearing not being what it once was, of course, it had taken the animal a bit longer to detect the presence of someone unfamiliar to him. But Happy had quickly muzzled him before he could sound the alarm.
It was a clear night with a fine moon. Happy had no trouble at all making out who it was wandering around on his property in the middle of the night. The question was, why? So, gently holding Spike’s collar, he was content to wait patiently. Because, that was one of the other benefits of old age ........ you find you have plenty of time on your hands.
Per kept his vigil for almost an hour longer before he saw the airship just to the left of Marshall Island. Stealthily, it moved invariably towards him, coming to a complete standstill only a few yards above his head. A portal in the underbelly of the ship silently slid open, emitting a peculiar green glow that fell downward, directly onto Per’s waiting form. Within seconds, his body began to disintegrate. Slowly at first, then swiftly picking up speed, Per began to disappear from his head to his feet. Molecule by molecule. When he was completely gone the craft’s door closed, sealing off the strange verdant light.