Little Edie Franklin walked through the carnival runway, mesmerized by the colors, the sounds, and the smells. The screams from the Tilt-A-Whirl caused her to stop for a moment to watch. Cassie Nieman, her enemy during the school year, sat in one of the cars as it spun and rolled. Tyson Parks, Carol Renner, and Ashley Stokes also swirled past Edie amid the blaring music and raucous screams. Edie had longed for the arrival of summer so she could escape her tormentors, and seeing them now brought back the pain of their taunts. 

The sweet smell of cotton candy and corn dogs drew her attention to the food stand to her right. Digging out her hard-earned dollar bills, she slipped them to the worker and watched as he spun bright blue heaven onto the cardboard cone. Nothing said summer fun at the carnival like fresh cotton candy. 

The wind blew as she took her first bite of the delicious treat. Her long, blonde hair became tangled in the blue cloud, and it stuck to both her nose and her chin. She didn’t care. She’d waited all year for this. 

At thirteen, her family finally allowed her to meet her friends at the carnival alone. Always before, her older brother or her parents insisted on accompanying her. Edie begged them this year to let her ride the rides and watch the circus performers with her peers, and they relented. 

The sad truth, however, was that she had no friends to meet at the carnival—or anywhere else. She was too short, too skinny, too nerdy, too ugly—all the descriptions made by her classmates—to have any friends. Edie lived a solitary life. Sometimes her heart ached to belong to the crowd, but she told herself that they weren’t worth it. No one who could be as cruel as they were to her deserved to be her friend. 

She was right, but that didn’t lessen the pain. 

So Edie walked the strip of carnival barkers and rigged games by herself. She was, for the most part, comfortable with her solitude. Walking through the crowd, Edie found safety in her sense of invisibility. She blended in with the crowd, much like zebras do in the herd, and this insulated her from the mocking jabs made by people like Cassie Nieman. 

“Young lady, step right up! Five darts for just $2. You’re guaranteed to win a prize!” A tall, thin carnival worker with bright red hair and large ears tried to entice her to play at his stand,

Edie politely nodded her head no and quickened her pace so he would set his sights on someone more gullible than she was. 

She wandered with no real direction, but she found herself at the circus big top tent. The sign outside said the next show wouldn’t happen for two hours. Edie popped her head inside the tent, hoping to catch a glimpse of the elephants. No one was around, so she quietly slipped all the way inside. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. 

The tent seemed bigger on the inside than it did from the outside. She edged her way around, disappointed that she found none of the animals. Where would they be? She heard the chatter of a monkey coming from outside the opposite end of the tent. A lion grumbled, and she heard the trumpet of an elephant. Of course, the animals were kept in their pens and not in the tent itself. 

A rustling of wings above drew her attention to the ceiling. Sparrows had flown into the tent where they flitted back and forth, sometimes landing on the trapeze swings. Edie giggled at the idea that the birds pretended to be circus performers. 

Still in search of the animals, she decided that she’d come this far, so why not slip out the back of the tent and get a closeup view of them? Animals brought her more joy than most people did, so it was natural for her to gravitate toward them. She believed she should spend her time at the carnival as she chose. No law said she had to stick to the midway. 

She pulled back the flap and bright sunlight caused her to squint. After a moment, she clearly saw the animals and their cages, and Edie silently walked toward the monkeys, looking over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching her mischief. Peering into their enclosure, she swore they smiled at her. One even waved. They swayed and leapt, putting on their own circus show just for her as she stood watching for several minutes. Edie turned her head to the sound of the elephants, and almost as though the monkeys understood, they stopped their antics and waved goodbye. 

To get to the elephants, she had to pass the lions. The male contentedly chewed on a large bone while the female lolled about flicking her tail at the annoying summertime flies. 

As she rounded a corner to find the elephants, she heard the laughter of children. Had others snuck back there too? She tentatively peered around the corner. Six or seven children, whom she guessed ranged in age from four to fourteen, gathered in a circle. None of them looked familiar to her. Before now, she’d never even considered that the carnival workers had children of their own who traveled with them. She’d always viewed carnies as adults with no ties to the world at all as they moved from one town to another. Yes, these must be the performers’ children.

Undetected, she watched as the children played, amusing themselves by climbing a ladder to the top of a stack of pallets. A stack, equal in height with another ladder, towered about fifteen feet away. 

“Now introducing the Elegant Ella. Ladies and gentlemen, please turn your attention to the center ring. You will see an amazing demonstration of grace and death-defying acrobatics.” A boy of about seven pretended to hold a microphone as he motioned his arm in a grand swing to point at a little girl who bowed and waved atop the pallets. 

The other children clapped and cheered as they played their roles as audience members. Edie smiled as she watched the little girl pretend she was about to perform in the flying trapeze. Her delight turned to horror as Ella jumped high, springing from the pallets into thin air. 

Edie gasped. The girl was going to hurt herself, and none of the other children seemed the least bit concerned. Then Edie saw why. 

Ella did not fall. She somersaulted and pretended to swing from a trapeze—but she clung to nothing but thin air. After sailing back and forth five or six times, Ella flipped and landed onto the other pallet stack, turning to bow and wave to the audience once more. The other children cheered as another girl clamored to be next. 

Bewildered by what she saw, Edie stepped backwards, her foot catching on one of the concrete blocks used to keep an animal trailer in place. She landed with a thud and struck her head on a rock. When she awoke, the children surrounded her. Before she could open her eyes, she heard them speaking. 

“Do you think she saw us?”

“Mom and Dad are going to kill us if she did.”

“Maybe she won’t remember when she wakes up.”

As Edie gained consciousness, the first face she saw was Ella’s, and it must have been clear by the look on her face that she had seen, and she did remember. 

“Just what do we do now?” A boy rubbed his forehead in worry. 

A brown-haired girl of about Edie’s age spoke up. “Well, the first thing we do, Josiah, is help her up. Come on you guys.”

The girl and Josiah extended their hands to Edie and helped her sit. 

“Hi, there. I’m Calinda. They call me Callie.” She sat next to Edie. 

“I—I’m Edie. Edie Franklin. I think I should be going. Sorry to have bothered you.”

“Not so fast.” A tall boy with dark brown eyes stared down at her. “First tell us what you saw.”

Edie, frightened and confused, stammered. “Really nothing. I just need to go.”

The boy moved closer to her. 

“Stop it, Ryland!” Ella ran to Edie. “Did you see me fly? I think I did an extra twist this time. Did you like it?”

Ryland jerked his little sister by the arm. “Shut up, Ella! We aren’t supposed to talk about these things with—others.”

Callie held up her hand to stop the comments of the other children. “At this point, I think it’s too late to worry about what should or shouldn’t have happened. She saw. Didn’t you? You saw, right?”

Edie slowly nodded her head and looked up at the crowd of worried faces around her. 

Callie stood and faced the others. “Listen, we can’t change any of that now.”

One little girl began to cry. 

“Oh, please don’t cry,” Edie pleaded. “I promise I won’t tell. I won’t tell anyone.”

Ryland sneered. “I don’t believe you. You’ll run and tell all your friends. That’s what girls do.”

That comment drew ugly looks from half of the children in the group, and the other boys tried to act like they weren’t part of it.

“I won’t tell. I don’t have any friends to tell.”

“What do you mean you have no friends?” Ella frowned and placed her hands on her hips. 

“I mean I don’t have any friends. I have no one to tell.”

Ryland was about to say something else when Callie silenced him. 

“Listen you guys, think about it. If we didn’t have each other, none of us would have friends either.” Callie looked at the other children who shrugged their shoulders and nodded in agreement. 

Callie extended her hand to Edie. “Do you think you can stand?”

“I think so.” Callie and Josiah steadied her as she rose. 

“Someone get her something cold to drink.” Callie nodded her head at a little boy who ran off and returned a moment later with a grape soda. 

One by one, they introduced themselves to Edie. Thomas, Timothy, Lydia, Abigail, and Jack shook her hand after Ryland and Josiah formally introduced themselves. Timothy was the pretend announcer. Abigail, the girl next in line to play trapeze, was no more than six. 

Once the introductions were over, Edie asked Ella the question she needed answered. “How did you do that?”

“Fly?”

“Yes.”

Ella gave a nervous look to her brother and Callie, who nodded reassurance to her. 

“I’ve always been able to fly. We can all fly, Edie.”

“What?”

Callie led Edie to a chair. “We need to talk. This has to stay secret. Our lives are at stake.”

“I won’t tell anyone. I swear.”

Callie took a deep breath and paused. “We aren’t from here, Edie.”

“I know. You travel from place to place around the country.”

Callie reached to the ground and picked up a handful of dirt. She pointed at it. “No, we aren’t from here. We aren’t from Earth.”

Edie laughed. “That’s not possible!”

“Is it possible that I can fly?” Ella sounded indignant. 

“Well, no.”

“But I did, and I can. We come from out there.” Her little hand pointed toward the sky. 

“Are you hungry? Would you like us to get you something to eat? It’s not time for the show, but we can get you in for free. Would you like that?” Timothy’s eager eyes tried to put Edie at ease. Not quite comfortable with anything she’d seen or heard, she thought she should try to be agreeable. 

“Yeah, I could eat something.”

“Come with us, then. Our family is having lunch. You can join us.”

Edie followed them to a row of RVs where the carnival families lived as they traveled. 

“We’re all related. Timothy is my brother. The others are my cousins. I have a little sister named Carissa who is just a baby. My Aunt Nella watches her on performance days.” Callie squeezed her hand. “Let me do the introductions.”

Callie pulled the RV door open, and Timothy bounded up the steps. “Mom and Dad, we’ve made a new friend! Her name is Edie.”

Callie rolled her eyes at Edie and muttered, “So much for me making the introductions.” The two girls giggled and climbed into the RV. 

The adults, already in their trapeze outfits, stood from the table, a little shocked and dismayed, but still polite. “Edie, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Irene. This is my husband, Art. Please have a seat and join us for lunch.”

Edie slid into the bench seat between Timothy and Callie. “Thank you. Everything looks delicious.” They piled food onto her plate and everyone looked nervously around the table. 

“Mom and Dad, Edie knows. She knows about us.”

Art set his fork down and began to speak then stopped. Irene’s calming touch to his wrist quelled his outburst. “Hold on, dear. Let’s hear what our daughter has to say.” Irene gazed at the girls while squeezing her husband’s hand. “Before you continue, Callie, I do want to remind you that you knew what the rules were.”

“I know, Mom, but it was an accident. We were playing trapeze, and she saw Ella flying. We’re sorry, aren’t we?”

Both Edie and Timothy joined in with their apologies. “I promise I won’t say anything.”

Art sat silently for a moment. “What’s done is done. We can’t change it now. We are going to have to trust you, Edie. Our lives depend upon you keeping quiet.”

“I understand, and I promise.”

“Let’s finish up lunch. It’s almost time for our show. Would your parents mind if you watched our performance and then came back here so we could talk some more? Now that you know our secret, we may as well get to know each other better.” Irene smiled a tentative smile. 

“I’d like that. I’m here by myself. My parents won’t mind. I’d love to see your show.”

They placed the dishes on the counter to wash later and made their way to the big top. Inside the tent, music blared, and jugglers entertained the crowd. An elephant walked slowly around the ring performing tricks that brought cheers. Edie and the other children sat on the floor and waited for Art and Irene to begin their act along with Ryland and Ella’s parents, Rita and Benny. 

“Ladies and gentlemen. Children and the young at heart. Please turn your attention high above you. You are about to witness the death-defying acrobatics of the Flying Estrellas.”

Edie remembered from her Spanish class last semester that Estrella meant “star.” As though she knew what her companion was thinking, Callie said, “It’s a fitting name, isn’t it? But we should be known as the ‘Falling Estrellas’ if we wanted to be accurate.”

“They aren’t going to fall, are they?” Edie’s heart raced, and she almost ran out of the tent.

Chuckling, Callie clarified. “No, they aren’t going to fall. They can’t, remember? I’ll explain my joke later.”

The girls passed a bag of popcorn between them as the show began. 

“Mom is the most beautiful woman ever,” Callie whispered. 

Irene was a beauty, and bedazzled in sequins, she was eye-catching. Everyone in the tent held their breath as the other-worldly performers mesmerized them with their acrobatics. Twisting, turning, flipping through the air, they made it seem effortless. For added suspense, they performed with no net. The only member of the hometown crowd who knew their secret was Edie. They were so daring and graceful, however, that even their children were caught up in the moment. 

After what seemed like an eternity—yet not long enough at the same time—their act ended. 

“Let’s give a big round of applause to the Flying Estrellas!”

The crowd erupted, and they received a standing ovation. 

The children met their parents outside the back flap of the tent. 

“Did you enjoy yourself, Edie?”

“Oh, Irene, you were marvelous! All of you were!” The four adults beamed. 

“Thank you, young lady. Irene says you know our secret and that you’re joining us for dinner and a night on the midway. Is that right? Our daughter, Ella, promised us that you were wonderful, and I can see she was right.”

Benny scooped his daughter into his arms as Ella squeaked, “I did! I did! Edie’s my new best friend.”

As they walked to the RV, Edie fell silent beside Callie. 

“What’s wrong? Did someone upset you?”

Tears brimmed Edie’s eyes. “No, Callie. I guess when Ella said I was her best friend it just really hit me. I’ve never had friends before.”

Callie gave her hand a squeeze. “Well, you do now.”

After dinner, the evening was spent riding all the rides and playing any game she wanted—only this time, Edie actually won. The Estrellas introduced her to all the carnival workers that they met. Before she knew it, it was getting late and she had to call her parents to meet her at the front gate. 

“Please come back tomorrow, Edie. I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun.” Callie have her a hug, and so did Ella, Timothy, and Abigail. 

“Here you go, Edie. It’s a free pass for as long as we are in town.” Art pulled a card from his shirt pocket. “I’ll be glad to talk with your parents so they know it’s legit. Anyone who can keep up with our Callie is welcome with us.” He tousled Callie’s hair. 

“Oh, Daddy.” She wrapped her arms around him, grinning. 

Once arrangements were made with Edie’s parents, she practically lived at the carnival. The children told her stories from their home planet, and they even helped her fly with them. She had to hold their hands, like she was Wendy and they were Peter Pans, but she flew. 

One afternoon, Callie and Edie took a walk to the park near the fairgrounds. A little creek gurgled through the trees, and the two girls soaked their feet in the cool water under the shade of a large white oak. 

“Do you remember the day I met you, how I had tears in my eyes?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“I was crying because in that one afternoon I felt closer to you and your family—more accepted—than I ever have here.” She motioned to the world around her. 

“You are always welcome with us.”

“But you are leaving the day after tomorrow, and I will be alone again.” Edie turned her head away.

“We’ll be back. I promise. This is one of our regular stops.” She looked dreamily up at the sky. “And someday, if you want, we will take you with us.”

“Up there?”

“Yep. Up there. Which reminds me. I never did tell you why we should be called the Falling Estrellas.”

“That’s right. You didn’t. What does that mean?”

“Well, we weren’t actually supposed to land here. We sort of crashed.”

“Then how are you going to get back home?”

“We’ve run the carnival so we could make enough money to repair our ship. We also needed to travel around to get all the materials we need. Zeke, the guy who runs the dart stand, he’s our chief engineer. He knew what we needed and where to go.”

“Crazy Zeke is an engineer?”

Callie threw her head back and laughed. “Yep! He doesn’t look like much, but he’s brilliant. It was his idea to use the disguise of being a traveling circus. He said no one would pay much attention to us or keep track of where we were going.”

“That is pretty smart.” Edie thought about how looks could be deceiving. 

“I’ve already talked to Mom and Dad about it. They are happy to bring you with us, if you’d want to, at least for a visit sometime to our planet.”

“Really? I’d love that! I wish I could go now.”

“But you can’t leave your parents. Not yet anyway. Once we are older, you can, though.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Hey, Callie?”

“Yeah.”

“How will you get back to your ship?”

“We have it with us now.”

“What?”

“Yeah, we’ve kept it with us and made repairs as we could.”

“No way! Where do you hide it?

“We don’t hide it, silly. In fact, you’ve been on it. Lots of people have. They’re on it right now. They just don’t know it.” 

“How?”

“It’s the Tilt-A-Whirl. Zeke turned it upside down and mounted seats on top of the thrusters. Of course, he had to do some adjustments so people didn’t get blown off.” They laughed at the thought, and Edie imagined Cassie Nieman jettisoning out into the atmosphere.

“I want you to have this.” Callie handed her a small jewelry box. “Open it.”

“Oh, Callie, it’s a necklace just like yours.” She held it next to Callie’s, and the stones glowed.

“This is how we will keep in touch until we see each other. We are friends forever.”

The two girls hugged as tears ran down their faces. 

“I’ll always be your friend, Callie.”

Holding her hand, Callie rose and helped Edie to her feet. “We’d better get back”

Two nights later, as the carnival workers tore down their tent, Edie watched, unable to hide her grief. The Estrellas gathered around her and assured her they would meet again soon. 

“Edie, I have to admit that I wasn’t sure about you when Timothy first burst into the RV with you, but I already love you like a daughter. Keep this to remind yourself you have us as friends. It’s not much, but I hope it makes you feel better.” Art handed her an envelope. 

“Honey, your parents are here to pick you up. One more round of hugs, and then you need to go.” Irene wiped a tear from her eye. 

Sitting in the back of her father’s car, Edie opened the envelope she clutched. Inside was a card that read “Free Admittance When the Circus Comes to Town.”

Teenagers have a habit of pushing the envelope of their parents’ patience. Sometimes they push the boundaries of what society and the law allows, too. Such was the case with young Yurgen. He had never been an unruly child, but as he moved farther into his teenage years he had a rebellious streak that caused his parents and community leaders to shake their heads and whisper words of concern for his future. 

Tonight was one of those nights when Yurgen crossed the threshold of what was acceptable—and what was not. 

The evening began with a double date between Yurgen, his best friend, and their girlfriends who happened to be twins. They went to the movies, and because the girls had a father no one wanted to anger, the boys dropped them off at home a half hour earlier than their curfew. The father was a known tough guy with a shady past, and true hell would have been paid had those girls not arrived home on time. Yurgen was stupid, but not that stupid. 

At midnight, Yurgen parted ways with his pal who dropped him off at the end of his street. He wanted to enjoy the beautiful night by walking the rest of the way home. The stars were out, and a warm breeze blew through the trees. In the moment, Yurgen reveled in being alive. Young and adventurous, he wasn’t ready to call it a night, however. A big world stretched before him, and surely there was something he could do to quench his thirst for fun. He weighed his options. By this hour, most of the hangout spots were empty. The diners were closed. None of his friends were anywhere to be seen. 

This town is dead, thought Yurgen. 

He nearly gave up, but something caught his eye in the moonlight. A shiny new model just sat there for the taking. 

He knew he didn’t have his license. He didn’t even have his permit, for that matter. Yurgen knew he shouldn’t, but when would he get a chance like this again? He’d have bragging rights amongst his friends, and they’d be jealous of his brave adventure. Recklessness was an admired trait in the hearts and minds of rowdy boys, and he’d be the hero of his peers. 

The keys were there for the taking, and he’d seen models like this in magazines. He’d longed for the opportunity to try one out—and here it was, nearly begging him to go for a ride. 

Just a little joyride. What could it hurt? Isn’t that the question all rebellious teens ask when they do something they shouldn’t do?

Yurgen nervously looked around, but the street was empty. Not totally without a conscience, thoughts of what could happen flashed through his mind. He knew his mother would cry if he was caught breaking the law, and his father would… Well, he didn’t want to think of what his father would do. 

For a second, he considered walking away. That would be easy and safe. But who has fun playing it easy and safe? Certainly not a young firebrand like Yurgen. The world was at his fingertips, and come hell or high water he was going to make the most of his youthful energies. Tonight would be a memory maker.

Checking one more time for onlookers or security cameras, Yurgen grabbed the keys and slid into this shiny little number he’d discovered. He turned the ignition and revved the motor. The exhilaration of being in control was unlike any feeling he’d had before. His body melded into his new ride, and they became one. His heart raced, and he felt giddy. 

He put it in gear and headed for open stretches of road to test the power of the engine. Tearing across town, he squealed its tires, spun donuts, and rejoiced in creating mayhem. He reached speeds he’d only dreamed of, and a few times he nearly lost control. For two hours, he wallowed in unrestrained abandon. 

Then it happened. 

The crashing cascade of glass as he flipped end-over-end, went through the front window of the local department store, and then landed in a ditch, brought his night of frivolity to an abrupt end. The flashing lights of the police cruiser let him know, without a doubt, that his joyride was over. 

Down at the station, his parents thanked the officer for contacting them first without filing formal charges. 

“Do you have any idea how worried your mother was young man?”

His father towered above him while his mother dabbed her eyes with a tissue. 

“I—“

“Save the excuses, Yurgen. You know what you did was foolish and wrong.”

“Yes, Dad.”

“I’m grounding you for a month, and I’m calling your Uncle Jack tomorrow about the Newbury Demon Reform School.”

“But Dad—“

“Your father is right. You knew better than to take possession of a human before you were legal to drive. For now, we are going home.”

His father’s tail flicked toward the open door leading to the parking lot. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson.” 

Yurgen’s own tail dropped to the ground as he lowered his head and slunk out the door behind his parents.

The gentle hum of the landing gear soothed Seth Langley’s frayed nerves. Normally, he enjoyed his excursions. This time, he craved one.

I never imagined I’d be so happy to get away from home.

Seth winced at the thought. He loved Lori. He really did. The tensions between them had grown in recent months, and the pressures came from many sides. His job with the company occupied more time these days, and her parents nearly demanded that he and Lori pick up and move closer to them. Then there were their struggles with infertility. 

It’s reached the point that we’re trying too hard. Everything’s become mechanical. We’ve lost intimacy. I can’t enjoy time with Lori because I feel forced to perform. I’m not sure I even want to be a father. 

Yes, getting away for this field study came at a good time. He needed a chance to catch his breath. He loved Lori, he loved his job, and he even loved Phil and Doris, his in-laws. He just needed the chance to experience the beauty of the deep forest to rejuvenate his senses. The Cascade Mountains brought him a sense of well-being he could find nowhere else. 

The flight was smooth, and Seth had even allowed himself the guilty pleasure of a nap during the trip. Moments of relaxation were few and far between. As one of the leading scientific researchers in his field, he seldom took breaks. While most people never thought twice about where pharmaceutical discoveries came from, it was Seth’s life. He specialized in the study of using natural elements in medications. The stigma created towards pharmaceuticals by the overuse of chemicals for decades gave rise to the “Back to Nature” movement that became his passion. Natural cures were for the taking, if we would look for them. 

That passion and drive brought Seth here today to the dense forests of the Cascade Range. He lovingly referred to the area as “The Garden.” Seth believed the flora of the old forest held the cures to many diseases. He had three new medications nearing completion of the testing and approval stages, and all came from plants he’d discovered in The Garden. As often as he could, he stole away to this botanical paradise. 

Simply being there healed Seth on so many levels. 

The company, wanting easy access to the area but being environmentally conscious, developed a landing pad and a small research lab that blended into the area so well that no one noticed it unless they knew what to look for. The shuttle, now ready for its passengers and crew to disembark, slid into the hangar. The doors closed behind the vehicle, and the team quickly made its way to the lab. 

Safely past the airlock, Seth slipped out of his travel clothes and into the required biosuit. His skin condition required extra protection from the increased UV rays. Thin mountain air and the elevation of the range blocked fewer of those rays than the atmosphere found at sea level. Seth grimaced as he remembered the time he hadn’t worn his biosuit. 

Never again.

His company spared no cost to protect its rising star researcher. The suit was clumsy, but once in the woods, Seth forgot his discomfort. He was the only team member allowed to venture into the forest. The rest stayed behind to analyze his samples and to record data. His walks in the woods, while not without risks, were his own. Seth relished them. 

Biosuit safely on, Seth motioned to the staff member in the bubble, more formally known as the control unit. The door slid open, and Seth plodded out the front of the building into the bright sunlight. 

Birds sang, and small animals scampered through the undergrowth. He had no fear of the raccoons, deer, and other small creatures he encountered. Other, larger animals were the threat. Seth carried no weapons, and a few times one would have come in handy. His suit, covered in a material resembling fur, protected him from UV rays, but it masked his resemblance as a person enough that some predators mistook him as either prey or competition. It was a risk he willingly took, even though it could be a fatal one. 

Pushing any lingering fears from his mind, Seth emerged into the forest. His heart swelled with joy. 

This. This is what I’ve needed.

Immediately, he took the trail down to the first plant plot he cultivated. A particular strain of sword ferns held promise to help the blind. Seth’s college roommate was blind, so this study was close to Seth’s heart. He carefully measured and recorded the plants, collecting samples and putting them in the various velcroed pockets covering his biosuit. Yes, they made the suit bulky, but they freed Seth’s hands. It was a worthwhile trade-off. 

Next, he hiked to a grove of deciduous larch that Seth believed contained an ingredient that would reverse a rare, but devastating, degenerative nerve disease. As he climbed higher, he stopped along the way, measuring, documenting, and collecting various flora. Some new species to study grew wild. If they held potential benefits, he’d return to create plots for those as well. 

Then he heard it. It wasn’t a bear, although those did prowl the mountains. It wasn’t a cougar either. Seth’s blood ran cold when he realized he was being trailed—stalked—by a more dangerous predator. 

Quickly, taking long strides down the mountain trail, Seth bounded for the safety of the laboratory. He tripped and stumbled, nearly sliding down an embankment. The racing footsteps of his enemy approached, and Seth knew he must hurry. The fall injured his knee and aggravated an old back injury, causing him to stoop and hobble as he ran. His friends would have laughed at the sight he made, but this was no laughing matter. 

For a moment, he paused to catch his breath. The high elevation made it difficult for him to run far, even with the aid of the emergency oxygen packs built into the biosuit. 

Have I lost them?

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind, Seth had his answer. No, he had not lost them. His short rest allowed his predators to gain ground on him. 

Two hundred yards separated him from the safety of the concealed lab opening. Could he make it?

I have to make a break for it and keep my head together. I can’t afford another fall. God, how I wish I could tell Lori I love her. That more than anything, I want a baby with her. I’ve bee. An idiot hiding behind work. I’ll make it up to her when I get home. Right now, I have to make sure I get home.

Mentally plotting his course through the forest, Seth took off on a run. His pursuers yipped behind him, their high-pitched yells and howls searing Seth’s eardrums. 

Then the unmistakable crack of a rifle and the whizzing of a bullet as it sailed past the back of Seth’s head caused him to panic. He’d never had that happen before. In these encounters, he’d merely been chased. Now he was hunted. 

Fifty yards. Twenty-five yards. Seth’s lungs felt as though they would burst, but another volley of bullets drove him to push harder. 

At the entrance of the cave-like opening, Seth slammed his hand on the emergency button. The door slid open, and he flung himself onto the cold concrete floor as a bullet ricocheted off the door as it slid closed. 

Damn, that was close. Maybe I need to carry a weapon after all.

Teammates rushed to his side and peeled him out of his biosuit, whisking him away to the on-site doctor. 

Seth, still in shock from the ordeal, had one thought. 

I just want to get off this planet and get home to Lori.

Outside, his pursuers scrambled to the mouth of the cave. 

“He’s got to be somewhere. He couldn’t have gone far.”

His companion, leaning over, breathless with his hands on his knees, nodded. “Dave, can you believe that? We almost bagged ourselves a Bigfoot!”

Kicking the ground, Dave took his frustrations out on a bracken fern. “We sure enough did. Let’s look around for a blood trail. There’s no way he disappeared into thin air.”

Given the events of the morning, the team decided to concentrate on experiments within the lab. The forest would wait for their next trip to Earth.

Alice Cameron lived at the end of a long, tree-lined drive. Few would even notice her three-bedroom farmhouse tucked under the shade of the hillside, and she liked it that way. 

“Neighbors are like fleas,” her grandpa used to say. “It doesn’t seem like they would bother you, but once you get one, you usually end up with several.”

What her grandpa said made sense to Alice. She watched the area where she grew up change from a few scattered farms to subdivisions in a matter of ten years. Once people “discovered” the beautiful countryside, they told others, who told others, and so on, until the beauty was destroyed by the influx of people.

Grandpa’s heart would have broken to see what happened to the place he loved most in the world.

Alice searched carefully for a secluded piece of property where she could build her home. She considered that eighty-acre plot her sanctuary. The surrounding large tracts of land were undeveloped and owned by people who had no desire to live so far out in the sticks. They used the land primarily as a hunting spot a few weeks a year, and the rest of the time Alice was completely alone on her piece of paradise.

It’s not that she didn’t like people. She was a nurse and enjoyed her patients and coworkers. People enjoyed her bubbly personality and quick wit. At the end of the day, however, Alice wanted the peace and quiet of her farm. Her dogs, cows, and chickens were the only companionship she craved outside of work. 

That’s why she was so disappointed when construction crews cleared land two miles down the road from her farm. Each week “progress” continued on the construction project. Whatever home was being built was down a long driveway and not visible from the dirt road.

Hmm… Maybe someone else wants to be left alone out here too. Still, I’d rather they’d found another place to build.

There wasn’t much she could do about it, though. It was, after all, still a free country, and other property owners had the right to build homes there if they wanted to. Alice vowed to keep her distance, however. 

I don’t need someone coming over to borrow a cup of sugar or wanting to sit on the porch to chitchat.

To Alice’s surprise and relief, workers installed an imposing and elaborate gate at the entrance of the new neighbors’ drive. Intricate designs decorated the wrought iron bars, and unusual insignias, perhaps Arabic or some other language, were embossed on the concrete pillars holding the gate panels. 

Great. Looks like foreigners. At least they don’t seem to want company either.

A few months went by and construction activity ended. Late one night, Alice awoke to lights flashing around the vicinity of the new house. 

They sure picked a weird time to move in. I didn’t even hear the moving van.

Dead tired from a twelve-hour shift at the hospital, a bleary-eyed Alice crawled back into bed. She wasn’t the type to be nosy, and she would afford the new people the same respect she expected in return. 

Alice went about her routine as the days passed. With winter approaching, she had plenty to do. She needed to stack hay for the animals, and there was wood to cut for her fireplace. She used propane as her main heat source, but she found comfort in curling up on the couch with a cozy fire blazing in the fireplace as she watched winter birds eating from the feeders. 

Alice had a soft spot for things that flew. Grandpa bought her a bird identification book when she was five, and she still loved tracking what species came to her feeders. 

She never had the heart to cage a bird that could take flight. To satisfy her love of feathered creatures, she raised chickens. They couldn’t fly far on their own, and the flock seemed to appreciate her doting. 

As winter’s grip found its way into the world, it dawned on Alice that she hadn’t seen any activity coming from the neighbors. She knew someone lived there. Smoke billowed from their chimney, and on rare occasions, delivery trucks dropped packages off at the ornate gate. She had yet to see anyone who lived there, however.

I sure hope it’s not some weird religious cult. I don’t need a Waco to happen next door.

Alice imagined police helicopters flying overhead, dramatic footage on news stations, and a sensational inferno ending her solitude. No doubt the infamy of the cult would lead to onlookers, and onlookers would lead to people thinking how pretty this area was, and she knew what that led to. 

No, please don’t let them be fanatics or nut jobs.

Shrugging it off, she continued life as it always was. She went to work and spent twelve hours on her feet changing IV drips and catheters while dealing with sometimes difficult patients—and even more difficult doctors. Her sense of humor carried her through most shifts. Most of the time, the monotony was the worst aspect of working evenings. One night, however, an interesting case entered the doors.

A woman in her late sixties with a burning rash on her extremities was wheeled in by ambulance. Normally, the EMTs stayed for a moment, but they must have had another call because they left before anyone could speak to them about the patient. 

Alice had never seen anything like the woman’s injuries. The attending doctor, however, had seen a lot in his forty years as a physician. He ordered medication and told the nurses assigned to that room to apply the prescription cream and then wrap gauze around the woman’s affected areas. She was to be placed under a lamp, much the same as jaundiced babies are put under, for one hour, four times a day. During daylight hours, the shades to her room were to be drawn. 

The woman, a Marjorie Henson, according to the papers left with her on the stretcher, was unconscious and immediately admitted to the hospital. The treatment required a number of days to complete according to Dr.Steinman. Monitors checked her vitals, and an IV drip was started. Antibiotics began as a precautionary measure. 

This almost looks like a burn of some sort, but her skin isn’t reacting like a burn patient’s skin normally would. What are those blisters? They look green.

While unusual, it wasn’t the first odd case Alice had treated, so she shrugged her shoulders and followed the doctor’s instructions. Her best friend at work, Janice, was also on duty that night. Together they wound the gauze and placed the woman under the lamp. It took two people to lift her as she was rather large. 

Down at the nurses’ station, Janice rubbed her aching neck.  “We sure see some doozies, don’t we, Alice?”

“Yes, we do. I’ve never seen blisters on someone quite like Mrs. Henson’s. I’ve never heard of this treatment, either, but Dr. Steinman was confident this would do the trick.”

Right before visiting hours ended, Mrs. Henson’s son arrived. 

“Hi, I’m Lenny Henson. I’m hoping to see my mother.”

Alice and Janice looked at the clock. It was a quiet night on the floor, and while policy said no visitors were allowed after nine o’clock, exceptions could be made. Neither wanted to make him leave. He looked frazzled and worried. 

What could be the harm?

“Sure, come this way. As long as you’re quiet, you can stay as long as you want to. There’s no one in 12-B tonight, so she won’t have a roommate to disturb.”

“Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me.”

The two women smiled and escorted him down the hall. 

The next night, Lenny arrived at the same time. He held two bouquets of flowers for the nurses. 

“I know it’s an inconvenience to have me show up like this, so I wanted to bring you something special.”

“Mr. Henson, you didn’t have to do that.”

“No, I insist. Call me Lenny. I can’t get away from my work at home until after dark. I really can’t go anywhere until after dark. I appreciate the good care you are taking of my mother.”

“Well, thank you. We’ll put these in some water.”

“I appreciate it. It takes a while to get into town from McGinty Road.”

Alice stopped. “McGinty Road? You live on McGinty Road?”

“Yes, ma’am. We’ve been there since early last fall.”

“So you are my neighbor?”

Lenny cocked his head slightly. “Do you drive a blue Chevy?”

“I do. You have a rather impressive gate at your drive. We haven’t had a chance to meet yet.”

“That’s true. We like to keep to ourselves. We don’t mean to be rude.”

“No, it’s completely okay. I’m the same way you are.”

Lenny gave her a look, as though he doubted something she’d said. 

“Truly, I’m not much of a socializer,” Alice added. 

“Oh, yeah. Now I see what you’re saying. We prefer to be homebodies. I’m glad you understand.”

Once at Mrs. Henson’s room, they parted ways. Lenny stayed until nearly two in the morning, and throughout the evening Alice and Lenny shared several friendly exchanges as she checked his mother’s vitals. 

“He seems nice enough, but he’s a little socially awkward, don’t you think?” Janice asked as she returned from the supply cabinet with a new box of gloves. 

“Yeah, it’s obvious he doesn’t get out much. He seems shy, and just… different. I hope not everyone who lives on McGinty Road is that eccentric.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I hear his neighbor is a weird one.” 

Alice snorted. She always snorted when she laughed hard. “Yeah, that Alice Cameron is a weird one, for sure.”

The next night Lenny arrived at his usual time. 

“Is she still unconscious?” Lenny asked as he approached the desk. This time he carried two boxes of chocolates. 

Too bad I can’t find a boyfriend who’s as attentive.

Alice never could turn down chocolate. She gladly took the boxes. “Oh, these are the really good kind. Thank you so much, Lenny. I’ll make sure Janice knows they’re here when she’s done in Room 3.”

Throughout the night the trio became familiar with each other, and conversations lasted longer when other patients had been cared for. 

At around midnight, Lenny stood in his mother’s room with his forehead pressed against the window overlooking the hospital courtyard. Deep in thought, he sighed occasionally. 

“The stars are beautiful tonight.” Lenny turned to the nurses. “Do you ever just sit and stare at the stars?”

“I do, sometimes, when I’m sitting on my porch on a warm evening like this. As you know, we’re the only ones out there on McGinty Road, so there aren’t any lights to dull their sparkle.”

“That’s true. It’s one of the reasons why we chose that spot to build our compound.”

“Compound?”

“I mean house. Excuse the slip. I’m a military pilot. I think in military terms.”

Janice gave Alice a skeptical glance. Lenny was short—maybe 5’6” with shoes on. He was on the pudgy side and didn’t resemble anyone’s image of a military man.

To break the awkward silence, Alice thought she’d better say something. 

“The military. Well, you must have traveled to some interesting places.”

“Oh, I have.” Lenny’s eyes twinkled, and he stood a bit straighter. “I’m very proud of my service.”

Both women nodded in agreement. Lenny turned back to the window as his mother’s dressings were changed. 

Most men are squeamish.

“Do either of you believe in UFOs?”

Alice and Janice finished the last of the dressing changes, and as they removed their gloves, the women shot each other looks, unsure how to take Lenny’s question. 

“I’m sorry, Lenny. What did you say?” Janice had a habit of asking people to repeat something she was nervous about. 

Turning from the window, he faced them. “It’s not a typical question, I’m sure, but I asked if you believe in UFOs. Do you think there are aliens out there?” He pointed toward the window and the sky. 

Alice, a lifelong science fiction buff, spoke first. “Actually, I think it’s possible. Why should we be the only beings in the universe?”

“What about you, Janice?”

“Oh, my mother and I have talked about it from time to time. She’s a big fan of those shows. She even bought herself a telescope thinking she might spy a UFO. All she’s ever seen is the occasional shooting star. She’s still got the thing set up on our back deck.”

“Your mother lives with you?”

“Yes, she has since Dad died two years ago. It’s just easier that way.”

“I completely understand. My parents live with me for the same reason.” Lenny patted his mother’s still hand. “I insisted they move in. They needed someone to watch over them, and they’re so much help with the lab.”

“Lab?” Alice raised her eyebrows. “Is that why you have a gate?”

“Oh, yes. We thought security would be important.”

A pause filled the air. 

“Would you like to see it? The offer stands for both of you—and your mother, Janice. I have some UFO artifacts you might be interested in.”

“Wait—you’ve seen UFOs?” Alice nearly had to put her jaw back in its socket.

“I’ve seen them. I’ve been on them. Would you like to find out more? As I said, you can bring your family, if you would like, to our home. I just ask for discretion. We deal with sensitive government contracts, as you can imagine.”

Oh, I can imagine they’d be very sensitive. This sounds fascinating.

“I’m game!” Before this moment, Alice hadn’t realized that she sought some excitement in her life—and she wouldn’t even have to leave McGinty Road to find it. 

“I’m sure Mom would kill me if she ever found out I passed up this opportunity, so count us in too.

“Splendid. When is the next night you have off work?”

“Tomorrow,” they said in unison. 

“How about you meet me at my house at 8:00 tomorrow night? Just park at the gate, and I’ll let you in.” He looked at his mother and the monitor displaying the rhythmic beating of her heart. “I’m sure she will be fine for one evening without a visitor.”

The next night Janice and her mother met Alice at her house. She was the only coworker who had ever been to Alice’s hideaway home in the woods, and that spoke volumes about Alice’s opinion of Janice. 

“Jerry couldn’t come with us tonight. He was sent on an emergency call. Electricians kind of have to go when a customer has a serious problem. Mr. Patterson’s weatherhead on his house was damaged by this morning’s storm, and he needs it working for his wife’s oxygen machine, so Jerry left. He told me to tell you he‘ll miss seeing you, Alice.”

“Oh, he’s just sorry he isn’t here for some of my chocolate chip cookies. Here, grab a few and we’ll be on our way.”

Alice held the platter out for Janice and her mother, Connie. 

“Oh, these are still warm. Thank you, dear.” Connie grabbed a third and fourth one for good measure. 

Soon the three of them pulled up to the gate. Lenny stood in the dark waiting for them. Alice jumped when he appeared at her driver’s side window. 

“Excellent. You’re right on time. Give me a moment to put my dog up, then I’ll open the gate for you. Thank you for coming by. We wouldn’t invite just anyone here, but it’s so important to have good neighbors.”

Lenny smiled, stepped back behind the gate which closed after him, and whistled for his dog.

“That’s not any ordinary dog. What is that thing, Alice?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen one like that.” Alice rolled her window up for a little added protection. 

Connie chimed in. “It sure looks to me like one of those wolves we saw when your father and I went to Yellowstone.”

Yes, a wolf. It certainly looks like a wolf.

Alice thought of her sweet English shepherds and her little shih tzu and wondered why anyone would need a beast the likes of Lenny’s “dog.”

A few moments later, the metal gates slowly opened. As the car approached the house—a mansion, really—the three women couldn’t help but gawk. In addition to the house, three or four other large buildings lined the paved drive. 

“When he said ‘compound,’ he wasn’t exaggerating.” Alice pointed at a building to her left. “That looks for all the world like a hangar.”

“It most definitely does, dear.” Connie had already had more excitement than she’d had in a while—not since she dialed a wrong number and enjoyed an hour-long conversation with some nice man in Brooklyn. She couldn’t contain her glee. 

Lenny met them in the circle drive in front of the Spanish-style villa. They introduced him to Connie, and then Lenny walked them inside. While not posh, it was splendid in its own eclectic way. Artwork, including detailed sculptures, decorated each room as Lenny gave them a tour. 

Is that an African mask? Native American, perhaps? Lenny did say he had traveled many places.

A tall man, exceptionally tall, in fact, entered the living room where Lenny sat with the ladies. He smiled and extended his hand to greet them.

“Good evening. It’s nice to meet you. Lenny has told me so much about you. I’m Lenny’s father, Melvin.”

He doesn’t look a thing like Lenny, but then again, family genetics can be strange. I look nothing like my sister.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Melvin. Your family has a lovely home. Thank you for having us over.”

“Alice, right?” He looked to his left. “And you must be Janice. Lenny has described you so perfectly, I feel like I already know you.”

His comments raised the hairs on Alice’s arms, and his oddly long arms and hands didn’t help matters, but it was the photo hanging on the wall that captured everyone’s attention.

“That’s a nice shot, isn’t it?” Melvin beamed. 

“Is Lenny standing next to what I think it is? Is that really a UFO?” Alice stared in disbelief. 

“That it is. It’s been a while since that was taken. Would you like to see some more?” Lenny nodded towards his father who motioned for the women to follow him down a hallway. 

“If you need to use the restroom, it’s this door to the left, ladies. We’re going to the control room at the end of the hallway.”

Control room?

Janice squeezed Alice’s hand for support. Connie looked like she was on a grand adventure. 

Maybe at her age she’s not as worried about death, but I am. Are these people crazy? Are we going to be on the next missing persons show? This may have been a mistake.

Lenny pulled a strange triangular-shaped object from his pants pocket. About three inches in length, it filled his pudgy hand. 

“Give me just a moment ladies. There’s a code I must enter as well.” He flipped open what could have passed for a wall thermostat and punched numbers on a keypad. 

A clunking sound signaled that the door unlocked. Lenny turned the handle and ushered them in. “Control room” aptly described what they saw. Panels and switchboards with flashing lights filled the room. Monitors lined the walls, most flipping from view to view like those behind the scenes at Las Vegas casinos. Alice wasn’t sure exactly what was shown on the monitors, but the room was quite busy. Computer screens rolled digital readouts across them, and an occasional buzzer or bell went off. Sitting on one desk was a red phone. 

Lenny saw Alice staring at the phone. “That’s our direct line. Anytime anyone—anywhere—wants to contact us, they use that red phone.”

More UFO photos hung on the walls. 

Connie, never one to hold her tongue around strangers, said, “Just what movie studio did you take these pictures at? I don’t recognize these from any movies I’ve seen—and I’ve seen about all of them. Although, that alien character there with Melvin looks like one of those beings from War of the Worlds.”

Melvin cleared his throat and shifted from one leg to the next as he stood behind the ladies. “Connie, I can assure you that these are not movie props. They are real aliens and ships.”

Connie squinted her eyes as she peered closer at the photograph. “Ya don’t say? I’ve waited my whole life to see one in real life. Do you think there’s any chance you could introduce me to one?”

Lenny and Melvin stood in awkward silence. Then Lenny spoke up. “Miss Connie, we work in very classified conditions. I’m afraid such a meeting is not possible. However, would you like to hear some of the recorded interviews we have with the aliens?”

“Recordings? Ya don’t say?” 

Connie wasn’t the only one interested. Alice and Janice silently nodded their heads up and down. 

“Very well. You must understand something first, however. There is a battle going on up there.” Melvin pointed his long index finger upwards toward the sky. “There are good aliens, and there are evil ones.”

“How come none of this is on the news then?” 

Janice nudged Connie with her elbow. “We don’t want to be rude, Mother.”

No kidding. We don’t know what these people might do.

“It’s quite all right, I assure you. She reminds me of my dear Marjorie, always asking questions that make our son, Lenny, uncomfortable.”

Right then, Lenny came from a back room with reels of tape and an audio machine. 

For the next several hours (time got away from them, and none of the women knew just how long they had been there), they listened to computerized voices on the recordings. 

“Their languages have been synthesized by our computer program so they are audible to humans—I mean us, people.” Melvin gave Lenny a stern look.

Aliens from planets far beyond our own solar system shared their messages with Earth. There were the usual promises of peace and good will. A few mentioned the galactic warfare Melvin had previously talked about. 

The longest recording came from an alien named Insinyor, or at least that’s what it sounded like. Alice secretly jotted down notes on a pad she kept in her purse while supposedly searching for a piece of gum. 

Insinyor told of plans for his people to one day make themselves known to humankind. He told of epic battles to protect this planet. He spoke of faraway planets and gave details that were meaningless to the three captivated women in the room. Melvin and Lenny, however, nodded in agreement from time to time and interjected the occasional “yes” or “absolutely” in support of what the alien said. 

Finally, Lenny shut the audio machine off. “There are so many other tapes, however, you have gotten the gist of our research. Now, if you please, I will escort you to your vehicle.”

Melvin rose. “Thank you for a lovely evening. We do so enjoy having you as a neighbor.” He shook Alice’s hand, then those of Janice and her mother. 

Lenny walked them to Alice’s Chevrolet. “Ladies, it’s been a pleasure. Alice, may I speak with you for a moment privately?”

Glancing towards her two friends, Alice tried to act fearless as she strolled down the walk with Lenny. 

“I realize this was a lot to take in. Please understand that we allowed you insight into our lives for two reasons. First, we are forever indebted to you for the marvelous care you have given my mother. She has a rare skin condition. Sunlight causes terrible blisters, far worse than a normal sunburn. We received a call from Dr. Steinman earlier letting us know she is conscious and ready for release. I can’t thank you enough for the care you have given her—and for the kindness you have shown me.”

“Lenny, we’ve been happy to care for your mother. We’ve devoted our lives to caring for those in need. As far as being kind to you, there’s no need to thank us. We like you.”

Lenny lifted his face to the sky. For a moment, Alice thought he might cry. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. 

“What was the other thing?” Alice now looked at the sky too. 

“Hmm?”

“You said there were two reasons you had us over tonight. What is the second?”

“You’re a good neighbor, Alice. When we moved here, you didn’t try to force yourself into our lives. You gave us our—space. That means so much to us.”

“I think we both live out here to have our privacy.”

“Yes, it’s true.”

The two stood in silence for a moment. 

“Listen, Alice. To a certain extent, we are kindred souls. What you learned tonight is true. There is a great battle raging over this planet. The government keeps it secret. No more than twenty people in the world—and now you three ladies—know of this war. Things could become dangerous someday, and if you ever need us, please call us. Our red phone works both directions. We will help. After all, it’s important to be a good neighbor.”

With that, he walked her back to the car and bid them goodnight. 

The three women sat in silence as Alice drove them to the opened gate then to her own home two miles away. The stars blazed brightly, and a full moon illuminated their faces through the windshield.

Only once they were inside the farmhouse did they let their guard down.

“I’ve never been so frightened and excited and enthralled at the same time!” Connie grabbed three more cookies off the platter on the countertop as she spoke. 

“Mother, I know this was a huge event in your life—in all our lives. I don’t think we should ever speak of this to anyone outside the three of us. What do you think, Alice?”

“I agree. It could be dangerous.”

The three women swore to carry the secret with them to their graves. 

The next night at work, Marjorie Henson was no longer in Room 12-A. The day shift had no record of her being discharged, but she was gone. 

Life resumed its normal routine. Alice never again saw Melvin or Lenny, and if she was busy, it was possible to forget for a moment or two that the compound existed. 

Two months later, sitting on her porch enjoying a late summer evening, Alice witnessed a spectacular meteor shower. 

Funny, I hadn’t heard on the news that one was expected. They usually make a big hoopla when these things happen.

The next morning on her way to work something caught her eye. The gate to the compound was flung open. 

Maybe I’m crazy, but I feel like I should drive to the house to see if they’re okay.

Pulling into the circle drive, she saw the doors wide open to the house. The scene looked like the hasty eviction of renters who had squatted too long and who fled into the night. 

The next night, the meteor shower continued. 

Two days later, a delivery truck driver knocked on Alice’s farmhouse door. 

“A package for Alice Cameron.”

“That’s me.”

“Here you are, ma’am.”

He handed her a nondescript white box. 

“No need to sign. Have a good day.”

Stepping inside the house, she set the box on the kitchen counter and pulled a steak knife from the utensil drawer to slit the packing tape open. 

Inside, wrapped in tissue, was the one item Alice would never forget from the compound: the triangular key. A note sat at the bottom of the box. 

Dear Alice, 

Please use the red phone. It’s urgent. The war tides have turned. The code is 86392.

Your neighbor,

Lenny

Enveloped in a sea of blue, the jet hurtled through the bright sky in a hurry to get to its destination. Tom Harper gazed out the window. Below him, city skylines and checkerboard farm fields passed by. Major cities looked like dots. Tom was amazed by just how much farmland was out there. He’d lived in the city for so long that he’d lost track of the agricultural base of the country. Little houses speckled the view, and farm-to-market roads crisscrossed the landscape. 

I can’t help but wonder about the people down there. Who are they? Are they happy with their lives? Would we be friends if geography didn’t separate us? Are they celebrating the birth of a child or the loss of a loved one? People from all different walks of life are going on about their days as we fly overhead. Do they ever think about who I am flying above them? I’ve stood on the street by my office building and stared up at the flights taking off from La Guardia. Wondering about the people in those thin metal tubes. Flight still amazes me. an’t help but wonder about the people down there. Who are they? Are they happy with their lives?

The clanking of a cart brought Tom’s attention back to the flight he was on. The monotonous hum of the plane engines droned in the background as flight attendants made sure passengers were happy with their meals and beverages. The food was incredible, which surprised Tom. It certainly wasn’t the normal bag of peanuts he was used to on commercial flights. 

With radiant smiles, attendants checked on each guest, doling out pillows and warm blankets. The gentle flutter of movement as the attendants went about serving the needs of passengers was comforting. Real care was given each member of the journey, and Tom had never seen an entire flight receive first-class treatment before. 

I knew the perks would be good, but this goes beyond what the company rep told me. Everything from the friendly flight attendants to the food is amazing. New hires usually don’t get this kind of treatment, at least not in the jobs I’ve had in the past. I think this is going to be a good gig, even if it’s a long flight.Thank God there’s plenty of leg room.

At 6’6” Tom Harper needed the extra room. He stretched his lanky legs and yawned. He gladly accepted one of the pillows and a warmed blanket as the attendant stopped at his seat. He was tired. 

While exciting, the unexpected string of events he was experiencing took a toll on him. On the one hand, Tom had an overwhelming sense of well-being. This was the most important job he’d ever taken, and he knew he was in the right place doing the right thing. On the other hand, he mulled over the whirlwind events from the past twenty-four hours and couldn’t fight off a sense of guilt. 

Just yesterday morning, Tom’s biggest concern was dropping his daughters, Lily and Hannah, off at school on time. His oldest had lost her homework from the night before, and his youngest had insisted on wearing her Cookie Monster slippers as shoes. It was chaos getting them fed, dressed, and out the door in one piece. Thanks to Michelle’s new work schedule, Tom was responsible for getting the girls to school and picking them up in the afternoon. He smiled. He didn’t mind the extra time with them. He loved being a dad, in fact. A wistfulness fell over him as he thought about the spring break plans he had with them. He was going to take them fishing at the family cabin in the Adirondacks. 

A dinging bell drew Tom’s attention to Mrs. Swenson in seat 4C. A sweet woman with a southern drawl, she asked for ear phones. The flight offered a variety of movies to break the tedium of the trip, and she’d chosen an old western to occupy her. Tom overheard her tell the blonde stewardess that she’d once met John Wayne. Mrs. Swenson became animated as she retold the memory. She was especially pleased when the attendant told her that she, too, had met John Wayne. 

Looking up and down the aisle, Tom noticed the flight was surprisingly full. Not a seat was vacant, and Tom marveled at his fellow passengers. 

This wasn’t what I expected. I’m impressed by the diversity on board this flight. I don’t know why, but I thought we’d all be a little more homogeneous.

People of all races, ages, previous professions, and political beliefs were aboard. Tom chuckled. 

Not that long ago, given today’s divided political climate, you’d never catch Democrats and Republicans getting along so well. 

Two rows ahead of him, proving his point, was a smartly dressed twenty-something having a charming discussion about fine art. This wouldn’t be unusual, except her companion was a man in his sixties who made his fortune as a venture capitalist. It was unlikely, before their addition to the company payroll, that they’d have been so fond of one another. 

Across from Tom was another odd pairing, at least from outward appearances. Sharice Davis, liberal councilwoman from the rougher neighborhoods of her hometown, talked and laughed about grandbabies with the man sitting next to her. Mark Perry, a red-headed police officer with years of experience patrolling Sharice’s same neighborhoods, told Sharice how sorry he was he’d arrested so many young people in her area. In reality, they weren’t all that different from her beloved grandsons. They’d just made bad choices and hadn’t had opportunities. He held her hand as he learned that Sharice still carried wounds from the loss of her brother. His death had fueled riots that made national headlines. Two days ago, both Sharice and Mark might have seen each other as adversaries. Now, common ground and empathy were apparent on their faces. Family meant a great deal to both. 

Tom’s thoughts returned to Michelle and the girls. He winced. 

By taking this assignment, do they think I’ve turned my back on them? Will they hate me? Will they ever understand that I had to take this opportunity? How afraid were the girls when I got on this flight and left them standing outside their school? Is Michelle angry with me that I accepted this job without talking with her first? She didn’t even get to see me before I signed the contract and boarded.

Visions of his girls crying in the rain as he never arrived in the parent pick-up lane at Hunter Grove Elementary stung. Those wouldn’t be the only tears they cried. 

Yesterday’s storm had been fierce. Lightning flashed non-stop, and the streets were overcome with floodwaters. Driving conditions that afternoon were hazardous, and Tom was thankful he’d been the one crossing those treacherous intersections and not Michelle. 

Why do people have to drive like idiots when it rains? Don’t they know speeding up doesn’t get them home faster in those conditions? It just makes it more dangerous for everyone else.

Well, with his new job, neither he nor the other new members of the company would have to worry about their safety. No, they’d be on security detail for others, and there was plenty of worry involved with the job description. 

I still don’t understand why I was chosen out of all the other candidates out there. I mean, I’ve always tried to be a good man, a good husband, father, and friend. I never thought I’d be offered a chance at a job like this, though.

Tom’s thoughts were interrupted by the brunette flight attendant who asked if she could get him anything—another beverage, perhaps a magazine?

Her name tag said “Christine.” That was Tom’s mother’s name. She’d have liked this Christine. Her warm smile and soothing nature would have appealed to Tom’s sweet mother. Beneath Christine’s name, Tom saw the company logo: Guardian Angel Express. As she handed him his soda, her right wing brushed his arm. 

Christine smiled sweetly and said, “Don’t worry, Tom. I know you’re nervous. You’ll make a great guardian angel. And your wife and daughters, they’re in good hands. The Big Guy takes special care of his employee families.”

Peace filled Tom, and he relaxed. Important work was ahead, and soon he’d be wearing his own wings of glory. 

Lincoln Hayes breathed in the sounds and smells of the first pleasant spring evening of the year. He was relaxed and happy, reveling in the breeze that ruffled his blond hair. The stress of the day melted away, and he slowly swayed on the wooden porch swing.

It’s nights like this that I live for.

As he enjoyed the moment, he thought of his family, his friends, and the good fortune he had of teaching in this community he had grown up loving. All the hard work he put into college was paying off. He had his own house close to his parents, he had lifelong friends that he saw daily, and he taught in the school that provided so many good childhood memories for him. Lincoln Hayes was home.

The most satisfying part of life was being near his family. Family was everything to Lincoln. His parents, Max and Patricia, worked hard providing a comfortable upbringing for their family. He admired their willingness to give their children the best they could, and he knew they were proud of them. Even though, without a doubt, Italia, his younger sister, outshined any effort Lincoln had ever made. Strangely, he never felt any childish pangs of sibling rivalry towards her. 

Had he? Could he even recall any childhood arguments with her?

The answer was no. Granted, he was much older than she was, but still, he couldn’t think of a time when he resented her.

In fact, Lincoln couldn’t remember a time before his little sister was a central figure in his life. Feelings of protection and pride overcame him when he thought about the brown-haired, blue-eyed girl who became the adoration of the entire family. Always a natural beauty, her talents in music, art, and most recently dance, made her the star of every family gathering. A few short months ago, her acclaim spread to the community as a whole. Parkville High School’s performance of The Nutcracker Suite just before Christmas highlighted both her talent and her beauty.

    “That little sister of yours is something else,” his colleagues at Parkville told him.

    “Yes, she is. Mom and Dad are very proud of her,” Lincoln had said with a warm smile. 

Lincoln’s thoughts turned from his immediate family to the community and how it had changed since he was a child. 

Parkville was becoming quite the magnet for talented children. Prodigies of all types, from piano to mathematics, overflowed into the halls of the school. Sports flourished, and academic awards poured in. Life was good in Parkville, but it did make people wonder at the newfound success of the community.

Just last week as he was shopping, Gary Lister, the local grocer, asked Lincoln as he checked out, “Since when did we become state champs?” 

“Certainly not when we were in school,” Lincoln replied with a chuckle. 

“Well, I don’t know what’s in the water, but I’m not going to jinx us by talking about it. We’ve got a shot at another baseball title this spring.”

“Let’s certainly hope.” Lincoln walked out to his car, groceries in arm, thinking about Gary’s comment.

The Carter twins were star athletes, which surprised many because neither Elaine nor Dan Carter, parents of the twins, were athletic, either in high school or now. The Lundquists’ daughter scored a perfect 36 on the ACT, but neither parent showed exceptional intelligence. Then there was Kyle Larner, the freshman successfully taking college courses ranging from art history to calculus. Kyle was overheard explaining to a classmate that the math books he read sounded like music in his head. Kyle’s parents were past retirement age, and both were simple people who had lived simple lives.

Actually, most of the children are exceeding their parents’ abilities. Out of nowhere we are winning championships and raising geniuses. I don’t remember any of us performing at such a high level when we were kids. This isn’t normal for Parkville. 

He hit the button on his key fob, raising the hatchback of his vehicle. As he placed the groceries down, the teacher in him forced Lincoln to consider the most reasonable explanations.

Maybe the helicopter parents, the parents grooming their children for success straight from the womb, are making a difference. Maybe we’ve focused on bringing out the best and the brightest in all our children, and it’s working. After all, “No Child Left Behind.” He didn’t give it much thought, however, it did intrigue him.

Parkville was a modest town, a quiet suburban sanctuary for middle-class families seeking a better life than the frenetic pace of the big city, This was Lincoln’s fifth year of teaching in Parkville, his alma mater, and he was proud of the accomplishments of his students. Just this year, three students qualified for national competitions in physics. Two more won awards for their research project on cells and their regenerative properties in some amphibians, such as the frogs that sang a lullaby this spring evening in the nearby pond. 

Tomorrow was a big day for him. He’d been nominated for Teacher of the Year. His students’ excellent scores on state tests and their success in high profile competitions had put a spotlight on Lincoln and the science program he was developing at Parkville. 

I’d like to think I’m the reason for their success, but I’m not so sure I am. A nagging doubt plagued Lincoln. A doubt that he had anything to do with the abilities of his students.

This evening, however, Lincoln sat on his porch, enjoying the warm breeze and the smell of the earth awakening after a long winter’s rest. The aforementioned frogs created a pleasant din of noise in the background, and Lincoln’s thoughts shifted. His memories wallowed in the magic of nights like this. When he was a child, he’d beg his parents to let him play one more inning of baseball with his friends or to let him make one more cast into the creek before he came in to go to bed. Visions of warm days, picnics, and a leisure that can’t be found in the icy haze of winter swam in Lincoln’s head. Recollections of growing up, some vivid and others a little more fuzzy, passed through his mind. The fact that some were indistinct bothered Lincoln.

Why can’t I remember the day Italia was born? I can’t remember life without her, but it’s off that at this moment I can’t remember her coming home from the hospital—or Mom even being pregnant with her.

That unsettling thought, along with a slightly out of place sound that made its way through the chorus of frogs caused Lincoln to pause for a moment as he rose to go in for the evening. 

Its probably just a night creature. I’m turning in for the evening. Deserved or not, tomorrow could be a big day.

Tomorrow was a big day.

In a grove of trees less than a hundred yards from Lincoln Hayes’s porch, a group gathered. Italia, the Carter twins, and roughly one hundred and fifty other teenagers were in a circle, deep in conversation.

“I think we can safely say that our five-year pilot program has been a success.” An athletic, brown-haired Chet Carter stood before his comrades. “It’s time we broaden our scope. Our people are depending on us, and time is running out.”

Nods of agreement swept through the crowd.

“When we began this expedition, we weren’t sure if we would survive. Much like the early Pilgrims we learned about here on Earth, we faced uncertainties. We now know we can survive, and it’s time for us to begin a full-fledged colonization of this planet.” Chet scanned the crowd for questions.

“Do you think we will be as successful in other parts of the world? We’ve masqueraded as children here in Parkville, but once we begin to outnumber the residents on Earth, can we continue without war?” Kyle Larner was skeptical by nature and was known for his lack of adventurous spirit. Back on their home planet, many had worried about including Kyle on this mission.

“I think we’ve proven that mind control works well on these weaklings.” Chris Carter responded. “In no time we were able to manipulate the people of Earth into believing we were their children and brothers. If we can do it in Parkville, we can do it anywhere. Like Chet said, time is running out. We need to move quickly, and tomorrow was our target date from the start.”

Italia raised her hand. “Some are less likely to be manipulated. You read the thoughts of Lincoln Hayes as I did earlier this evening. He is catching on. He is questioning why he doesn’t remember. There are others who will be difficult to control, too. What will become of the Lincolns?”

“Our leaders have considered this. Starting tomorrow, we will deal with Lincoln Hayes.”

The warm breeze blew, and the chorus of frogs sang out into the darkness.

Martin Van Kirk never intended to be remarkable. Growing up in the small suburban town of Warrenville, Illinois, not much set him apart from his classmates or anyone else residing in his sleepy little Midwestern world. Nothing except his uncanny resemblance to his deceased father.

Grandpa always called him, “a chip off the old block.” He’d shake his head and say, “I swear, when your father was young, you two could have been twins.” 

This made Marty smile. Marty loved to hear stories about his father, and he envisioned them as imaginary playmates at times. The two of us would have been best friends. I’m sure of it.

“Scrawny” was how his 5th grade teacher, Mrs. Hamilton, referred to him, but she was in her twenties and had never met Marty’s father. Marty was tall and thin with a shock of brown hair that he constantly had to flip out of his eyes. He was a normal little boy. He played baseball, climbed monkey bars, swam in the local creek, and agreed with his friends that girls were gross–especially that Annalee Phelps who seemed too perfect with her long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. 

Marty, along with his band of friends, took part in neighborhood mischief. Nothing serious. They’d raked leaves onto the porch of grumpy Old Man Newport and placed glitter inside the mailbox of the stern town librarian, Miss Winston. In truth, they did nothing worse than is depicted in Norman Rockwell paintings. 

Childhood days passed as Marty lived a rather normal life. Few in Warrenville dreamt of leaving the quiet bounds of their fine community. However, Martin made up his mind when he was ten that he was going to college to study genetics and molecular biology. This was not the average dream of the average little boy on Millsap Lane.

“Those Nova shows on PBS have filled your head with all sorts of wild ideas,” his grandfather told him. 

“Now, Grandpa, you let him be. It’s good for youngsters to have dreams,” his grandmother interjected.

Marty had lived with his grandparents, Ethel and Audie Van Kirk, since he was six years old. His parents, Pritchard and Melba, suffered a series of catastrophic illnesses, culminating in the loss of his father on Marty’s fifth birthday, and the death of his mother three days shy of the anniversary of his father’s passing. Compounding matters, his grandparents weren’t exactly spry, and constant trips to the doctor heightened Marty’s interest in science and the world of cells and genomes.

There must be something I can do to help people live longer, the young boy mused. 

More than anything, he wished he could have helped his parents have long, productive lives. They died in their early thirties, and the thought that nothing could be done for them haunted Marty.

 The older he became, the more often he heard from older residents, “You look just like your daddy. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear I was talking to Pritchard Van Kirk himself. You even sound like him.” He’d smile, and they’d walk away shaking their heads in wonderment.

Once he’d made up his mind to study genetics, life became all business for the young Van Kirk. In spite of his family’s limited financial worth, Marty spent junior high and high school focused on earning grades that were high enough to land him scholarships for college. 

“Come on, Van Kirk. Let’s cruise the strip,” his friends would plead. But, determined to keep his grade point average up, Marty usually said no and went back to his studies. Even when his best friend Andy prodded him to ask Annalee Phelps, whose beauty had only grown over the years, to the prom, Marty opted to stay in and do one more review before Saturday’s ACT which he’d take in the high school library with ten or fifteen of his classmates.

 “Annalee has no interest in going anywhere with me,” Marty said, matter-of-factly, and he dismissed Andy and his other friends, wishing them a good time at the dance.

    All of his hard work paid off. At the end of his senior year, he received an acceptance letter to one of the most prestigious genetics programs in the country. Attending Stanford University was a dream come true for the young man who, so far in life, was only known for his uncanny resemblance to his father. Moving to California and leaving the only life he’d known behind was daunting, but it was a challenge that excited Marty.

 “Don’t worry, Gram and Grandpa. I’ll be home for Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks, and we can call each other often.”

 “I can’t even begin to tell you right now how proud your father and mother would be of you,” his Gram told him, tears brimming her eyes.

 “Really? Are you sure they wouldn’t think I’m hairbrained for being obsessed with genetics? It’s not something most people around here even think about.”

 “Martin,” Gram said with a sudden fierceness as she stared into his brown eyes, “I know you were cheated out of time to get to really know your parents, but I promise you they would be proud. Now isn’t the time to talk about this in depth, but know that they approve. This is important for me, too.”

Marty’s heart warmed at his grandmother’s encouragement, and something about what she said fueled his determination to excel in his studies.

Excel he did.

By the end of his first year in the program, he’d made a name for himself. By the end of his second year, professors asked him to work on small research projects and to write reports for scientific publications. All of his professors encouraged him to apply for early admission into the post-graduate program. Marty’s academic success sped rapidly forward. His hard work didn’t come without a sense of guilt, however.

I promised Gram and Grandpa that I’d come home on breaks, and I haven’t gone to Warrenville even once since arriving at Stanford. I’ve let my work swallow me whole. 

The elder Van Kirks’ health had deteriorated since Marty’s high school graduation. Dementia forced Grandpa into assisted living, and a broken hip and other health issues had sent Gram to the same facility. The thought of them dying stung Marty. They were old and frail, and any medical crisis could spell the end of them both. Still, he had responsibilities that he couldn’t abandon in California. The more successful he was, the more demands on his time were made.

I’m doing this to help people. I want to find a way to let everyone live longer. I lost my parents when they were young, and nothing is going to stop me from making breakthroughs. For now, phone calls with Gram and Grandpa will have to do.

At the end of his third year, Dr. Kellar, the professor leading an elite and confidential genetics study, called him to his office one afternoon in late May.

“Mr. Van Kirk, please have a seat. Is it okay if I call you Martin?”

“Yes, Dr. Kellar, you can. Call me Marty if you’d like.”

A warm smile crossed the professor’s face. “Yes, I’d like to, Marty. There’s something I’d like to discuss with you; something I think you may already be aware of.”

 Puzzled, Marty said, “I’m not sure what that might be, but I’m all ears.”

Dr. Kellar double-checked to make sure his office door was shut tightly, then returned to his seat. “Your father was an important person in my life, Marty. I hope you know how deeply saddened I was at his passing. The loss of your mother so soon after Pritchard’s was a profound blow to myself–and many others here at Stanford.”

The room spun. Did he just say he knew my father? Martin Van Kirk sat speechless. Confusion clouded his face, and he rubbed his forehead with his right hand, trying to make sense of what he just heard.

“Pritchard used to do the exact same thing when he tried to figure something out. But, I suppose you have heard your entire life how much you resemble him.”

“Dr. Kellar, I have to admit, I have no idea where any of this is coming from. I’m from a small town in Illinois. My father worked at the local factory and my mother was a housewife. No one even knows that Warrenville exists outside the Chicago area. How could you possibly know my parents?”

A deep exhale departed Dr. Kellar as he leaned back in his lushly upholstered office chair.

“I didn’t know I was surprising you, and I’m sorry if this is a shock. Before we move forward, I want to invite you to join my team. You’ve shown incredible ability in your classes, and you are just who we need for our research and development project.”

“I’m honored and accept.”

“Good. Before I get into the specifics, I think it’s best that you have a conversation with your grandmother. She knows the particulars. I’m glad to have you on my team. Classes end on Wednesday. I’m going to contact your professors and let them know you need two weeks off to return home. You have some business to take care of there.”

Marty didn’t like the idea of dumping his responsibilities. He had two reports to write and a lab to run.

“I’ve got some things to do here. How about if I go in July?”

“I need you to start the program before then, Marty, and if you are going to be a part of the project, you need to go now.” Dr. Kellar’s stern look was convincing.

“I’ll do that. Sir, is there anything I need to do in the meantime?”

“No. I’ll meet with you after you return in a few weeks. Be prepared to hit the ground running.” Dr. Kellar rose to his feet and shook Marty’s hand. “It will be a pleasure to work with you.”

The next few days passed in a blur as Marty grappled with Dr. Kellar’s cryptic words. How does he know my parents? Why does he want me to speak to my grandmother? 

Uncertain of what he would learn, Marty arranged a flight to Chicago and for a driver to pick him up at the airport for the thirty minute drive to Warrenville.

Arriving in Chicago at 10:45 Thursday morning, Marty was eager to see his grandparents. The Holy Oak Retirement Home sat on a bluff overlooking the still sleepy town of Warrenville. Riding through the streets of his childhood, a world he had placed on a shelf in his mind for the past three years, brought back memories. 

Those days of riding bikes with Andy and Mike sure were fun–and sometimes painful. That corner is where I flipped over my handlebars and broke my arm. There’s the ice cream shop where we dared Mike to eat ten ice cream cones. I thought his mother was going to kill us. He turned green and was sick for two days. And there’s Old Man Newport’s house. Gram said his children sold the place and now a young couple who work in the city live there. I’ve missed being home. 

Marty soaked in the sights, sounds, and smells of a familiar world he had forgotten about. Then he saw Holy Oak towering above him with its ornate white columns and brick facade.

I’ll meet with Grandpa later. Gram already warned me that he might not recognize me. Besides, Dr. Kellar said Gram was the one I should talk to.

Room 306 was on the top floor of the retirement home, and as Marty entered his grandmother’s room, he was relieved to see bright sun shining through the window and a fresh bouquet of flowers on her dresser. At least they aren’t living in a miserable place.

Gram began to struggle to stand at her bedside, but Marty rushed to her. “Gram, you stay right where you are. It’s taken me this long to come see you, and I’m the one who needs to make you comfortable.”

She winked back tears and smiled. “You have always been such a thoughtful boy.”

For about half an hour, they chatted about local gossip, Grandpa’s condition, and whether or not Marty had gotten enough to eat at school.

“Don’t worry, Gram. I eat well enough. I put in so many hours in the lab that I keep food in the fridge at work. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“A good home cooked meal is what you need. But you didn’t travel all the way to Warrenville to talk with me about food. What’s really on your mind? You haven’t answered me on the phone when I’ve asked what brings you here.”

Marty smiled a sheepish grin and flipped his hair out of his eyes. I never could hide anything from Gram.

“What I’m going to say to you might not make any sense. I know it doesn’t make sense to me.”

“Spit it out, boy.”

“One of my professors, Dr. Kellar, has asked me to join his project at Stanford.”

Gram stopped in mid sip of her coffee. “Kellar? Anson Kellar?”

Now Marty was truly perplexed. How would his grandmother know the first name of the leading geneticist at Stanford?

“Yes, Gram, but how–”

“It’s time we have a talk, Martin. How much did Anson tell you?”

“Not much. He said he knew my mother and father. Then he told me before he said any more that I needed to talk with you.”

“Oh, Marty, he’s right. It’s something we should have talked about long ago. I just couldn’t bring myself to get into it. Did he tell you how he knew them, or what it is exactly that he works on?”

“No.”

“Anson Kellar is good at what he does. He and your father were classmates at Harvard.”

“Wait, Dad went to Harvard? He worked at the local plant.”

“That’s just what we told the neighbors, son. What Pritchard and Melba were involved in was way too top secret for us to go blabbing to the Cunninghams across the street. And we wanted life to stay as normal for you as possible, so we told everyone Pritchard worked at Dell Chemicals.”

“What did he really do?”

“Government work. Top secret government research. He and Anson accepted positions at Stanford to work on their projects.”

“Research into what?”

“It’s no mystery, Martin, why you were drawn to genetics. Your father and Anson were some of the first scientists to study cloning. But it went farther than that.”

“Farther?”

“Look, Marty, I want you to know first and foremost that you are very loved, and you have always been very welcome in our lives. Your grandfather and I always wanted Pritchard and Melba to have a family, and when you came along we were thrilled. I don’t want what I’m about to tell you to change that in any way in your mind.”

Marty sat motionless as Gram began, as all things should, at the beginning. She detailed the first signs that Pritchard was different than other people. How Anson was the first to notice his body’s special abilities.

“So, Dad was researching cloning because of some physical ailment that he had?”

“Not exactly. He was already on the research team. Each member volunteered tissue to be used in the experiments. Only Pritchard’s sample was different than everyone else’s.”

“How so?”

“Most of the tissue samples weren’t viable. They failed to duplicate, regardless of how many ways the researchers attempted to clone their cells.”

“And Dad’s?”

“His never failed. Something about Pritchard’s cells made them replicate, perfectly, every single time. And that explains you.”

“Wait…what do you mean it explains me?”

“Well, you and the others…”

For a moment, the room froze and Marty’s world came to a halt.

“Others?”

“Yes, there are others. At least thirty. All are older than you. They were quickly scooped up by other research centers and the government. It bothered Pritchard and Melba to know his genetic offspring were snatched away, but it was part of the territory for the work he was involved in.”

“So I have siblings?”

“Not siblings in the normal sense. You have duplicates.”

“I was created in a petri dish?”

“In the most basic way, yes.”

“And my mother wasn’t really my mother?”

Gram’s anger flared. “Now let’s get one thing straight Martin Van Kirk. Melba Dawson Van Kirk was and always will be your mother. It’s because of her that we were able to keep you in the first place.”

Martin reeled. 

“Have a seat, Marty. It’s time you understood it all.”

“First of all, your grandfather knows nothing about any of it. Pritchard always had a distant relationship with his father, and he didn’t want to risk state secrets escaping. Your grandfather loves to tell stories, and the temptation may have been too great for him to keep his mouth shut. Just Pritchard, Melba, myself–and Anson and the research team, of course–knew the truth.”

“Just what is the truth? Why was I raised by you? What happened to my parents?”

“Pritchard became the subject of many studies. The government lacked the finesse it has now in studying such things, and they subjected your father to high doses of radiation, hormones, and other chemicals, attempting to find the key to his ability to replicate. It took a terrible toll on his body, and even Melba suffered secondhand effects of the radiation. That’s what killed them.”

“Why did I stay in the family when the others were taken away to be studied?”

“It was your mother’s idea. She knew Pritchard was becoming weaker with every test, and she didn’t know how long he would last. She begged him to create you–to have a part of him that would live on. Melba had always wanted children, but the scientists warned that your father’s reproductive system was compromised by the experimentation. Having children, in the normal sense, was out of the question. Instead, they had you. And you were the apple of their eye, as the saying goes. No little boy was ever loved more.”

Marty’s entire existence shifted on its axis.

“Dr. Kellar has known all this?”

“Anson has known the entire time. He helped make the arrangements for Pritchard and Melba to have, and keep, you. He had to pull all the strings he had to do it, too.”

A realization struck Marty. “I didn’t get accepted to Stanford because of my ACT scores, did I?”

“No, Martin, you didn’t. Anson has tracked you throughout your entire life. He and I have talked often about exactly how you would cross paths with him.”

“When I was little and you took me to the doctors, those trips weren’t always for you or Grandpa, were they?”

“They weren’t. We took you in monthly for routine observations. Those suckers they gave you to taste, then took away, were for testing purposes. They used your saliva and DNA to study how your cells reacted to duplication. Anson wanted to know if you had inherited Pritchard’s ability to replicate.”

“And?”

“You did. You are a perfect replicator.”

“Are there other versions of me out there?”

“No, they never crossed that line. You were a child. Now, however, you are an adult, and a scientist, and you and Anson Kellar have some conversations in your future. You are special, Marty, in so many ways. We waited until the time was right to tell you. We felt you deserved a carefree childhood. Now you have some decisions to make.”

How do I continue to walk around knowing my entire existence isn’t what I thought it was?

“Gram, I love you, and I know you never intended to hurt me. I am, though. I can’t even wrap my head around this. I’ll be back to see you tomorrow. For now, I’m going to see Grandpa. I need some time to clear my head.”

“I understand. I really do. I’ve known for decades, and it’s still too much for me to take in. Just remember you are loved.”

After a short visit with his grandfather, who momentarily remembered who Marty was as he flooded him with tears and questions about college, Marty walked out of the Holy Oak Retirement Home. 

The sun shined and birds sang as he began walking towards the only home he could remember: 1625 East Millsap Lane. Passing Monroe Park, the ice cream shop, and a thousand other points of memory, Marty wondered if his life had been too focused. The friends he’d made as a boy truly cared about him. What would life had been like if he’d stayed behind? Andy was always teasing him that he and Annalee Phelps would make pretty babies. 

I wonder if she’d ever believe that I can make kids of my own without anyone else’s help? How would anyone understand that? How I wish I had my innocence back. Warrenville seems like a perfect world. Now I don’t even know where I fit. Am I going back to Stanford to become a laboratory rat?

Marty’s thoughts were distracted by a honking horn. 

There, at the intersection of Honeysuckle Road and Kramer Avenue, sat a stunning blonde in a baby blue convertible. “Martin Van Kirk! You’re just as handsome as ever. Are you going my way? I’ll give you a ride.”

Annalee Phelps, glowing in the bright May sunshine, sat before him, smiling that dimpled grin that turned the head of every boy in Warrenville.

I’ve spent every waking moment of my life thinking of nothing but science. It put me on a path that makes me question what my life even means. Maybe it’s time for a change. Maybe, just maybe, there’s more to the future than labs and tests.

Martin Van Kirk flipped his hair and opened the passenger door. “Annalee, I’d love to be going your way.”

The next two weeks were a rush of emotions Martin had never felt before. His grandmother’s confession, on the one hand, left him feeling betrayed. How could they let me spend my entire life in the dark? All those times people said I looked just like my father, Gram knew. She knew–and she didn’t tell me.

Betrayal wasn’t the only emotion stirring in Martin. From the moment he sat in Annalee’s car, he was swept away by everything about her.

One night, as they sat under the stars in Monroe Park, his arms cradled her as they talked about the constellations. Then Annalee looked up at him as she ran her fingers through his brown hair. 

“Marty, I have something to tell you.”

Please don’t let this be another wrecking ball.

“Remember when we used to play “It” on the playground when we were little?”

“Of course, I do.”

“I always let you catch me. You had to notice.”

“No, I hadn’t realized that.”

“I did. Marty, I’ve spent my whole life waiting for you to catch me.”

A look of disbelief crossed Marty’s face. “There’s no way you were interested in me. I was always the science geek. And you… You were the girl every boy in town wanted to date.”

Turning to face him, Annalee gazed at him, then smiled her dimpled grin. “You really were oblivious, weren’t you? I tried getting Andy to set us up on a date for years. Didn’t he ever say anything to you?”

“He did. I always thought he was just trying make me look stupid. You know, have me ask you out so you would shoot me down. He was always such a prankster that I never thought he meant it.”

“This time he was serious, Marty.” A long, sensuous kiss convinced him that she was telling the truth.

Night after night, Marty and Annalee fell more deeply in love. 

“What would you think of coming with me to Stanford?” he hesitantly asked her.

“You’d want me there?”

“I want you wherever I am. I’ve even thought about throwing the whole Stanford thing aside and just staying here with you.”

“Martin Van Kirk, you can’t give up everything for me.”

“Ever since I came back, I haven’t been sure where I belong, but I know I want you with me.”

“Count me in, Honey. I will go anywhere with you.” She held him tight, and they spent the night making plans.

Marty’s days filled with frequent trips to Holy Oak to visit his grandparents. Grandpa could barely communicate, but the heart-to-heart conversations he had with Gram soothed his aching soul.

“That Annalee Phelps sure is one sweet girl, Martin.”

“Yeah…she is.”

“That dreamy look you get in your eyes whenever she’s mentioned tells me that you’ve been hit hard by Cupid’s arrow.”

“I do love her, Gram. What surprises me is that she says she loves me too.”

“Nothing to be surprised by. You are a wonderful young man. I’m pretty sure she’s had her sights set on you for years. I might have had a few conversations with that young lady from time to time.”

“Gram, you are just full of surprises this visit.”

“Well, now that you mention it…”

The nurse interrupted their conversation, and Marty stepped out of the room. “I’ll see you again, Gram.”

“Tomorrow’s your last day in town, so I certainly hope you do,” she said with a wink.

Just outside her door, Dr. Finley gently tapped Marty’s elbow and led him to a quiet area. “Has your grandmother said anything to you about the test results from yesterday?”

“No, she didn’t.” Marty couldn’t hide the worry in his voice. “Is she okay?”

“I’m afraid not. Her heart is giving out, Marty.”

“How long does she have?”

“Days…maybe a few weeks. I’m glad you were able to come home when you did.”

Something inside Marty crumbled.

“We’re running more tests this afternoon, and then she will need to rest. I suggest you wait until the morning to come back.”

As angry as he’d been with Gram, he couldn’t imagine life without her.

That evening, he and Annalee made their final plans for their trip to California. In the morning, he’d make one final stop to see his grandparents before heading to the airport.

He awoke to a dark sky and a misty rain falling as he made his way to Holy Oak. Thoughts of regret filled him.

 I’d forgotten how much family and this town means to me.Grandpa is lost in his own world, and Gram’s time is running out. My family is steadily slipping away from me. If it wasn’t for Annalee, I’d be all alone.

Gram sat in her bed, reading a gardening magazine as he entered her room. At the sound of the door, she waved him in and smiled. 

She looks so tired and frail.

“On your way to the airport soon?”

“Yes, Gram. I can change my flight and stay longer if you need me to.”

“That’s very sweet of you, but you can’t do that. You have to return to Stanford, and I have a favor to ask of you while you’re there.”

Puzzled, he sat at the edge of her bed and took her hand in his. 

Why is she so insistent that I leave?

“Gram, what favor would you need at Stanford?”

She paused. A tear trickled down the side of her cheek as she looked out the window with a far away gaze.

“Gram…”

“Marty, I know I hurt you when I hid our family secret from you.”

“Gram, don’t feel bad about that. I’m sorting it out. I’ll be fine. We are fine.”

Her wrinkled hand patted his.

“It’s just, son, that secrets tend to keep company with other secrets.”

“Gram?”

“There’s another family secret you must know about before you return to work on Anson Kellar’s project. Please understand how important this is to me, and please promise me you will help.”

“Gram, you’re worrying me.”

After a moment, Gram found her voice and began again.

“You know that Pritchard was special because he could replicate. Anson wondered how that was possible, and in his quest to unlock the mystery, he collected a sample of cells from me. Martin…your father inherited his abilities from me.”

“So, there are others of you out there?”
    “No, at least not yet.”

“Not yet?”

“This is really the reason why Anson wanted you to come home, to talk to me, before he told you any more about his research.”

Gram took a drink of water and dabbed her eyes with the tissue she clutched in her hand.

“Gram, what is it that you want me to do?”

“Anson saved my sample. He promised me he wouldn’t do anything with it until you could take part.”

“Take part? Gram, I don’t understand.”

“I was heartbroken when the replicates of your father were cast into research and secret government tests. No child should go through that. It’s tortured my soul to think my duplicate would face the same fate. You must promise to help.” Jagged sobs escaped her.

“Oh, Gram, I promise. What do you want me to do?” 

“Anson promised that only one clone will be made from my sample. Marty, I want her to have a home. I want her to have a family that loves her. I can’t stand the thought of her ending up as nothing but a test subject. She will be the only thing left of me in this world.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I want you and Annalee to raise her. She can be your daughter. She needs you, and I need you.” Gram’s breathing became heavy and she squirmed out of discomfort.

“Gram, I promise. We will give her a family.”

“Oh, Marty,” she sighed, ‘you’ve given me the peace I need. However much time I have left, I know she will be okay. Now, go find your future.”

Marty flipped his hair out of his eyes, kissed Gram’s forehead, and walked away to find his destiny.