by Wm. Barnard
Now staring back at the camera, he continued. “The latter part of this statement must have been in response to several Christian sects who have been labeling the alien sightings as demonic apparitions.”
“Chuck, what is the mood there in Vatican City?”
“Well, Ted, it is actually quite festive. There seems to be one of celebration, as many here believe this is a time of signs and wonders from above. Several priests have told me that just like the sightings of Mary worldwide, they see these visitations as merely other ways by which God reveals Himself to people. What I have found so interesting is that many of the faithful seem to embrace the message of the aliens as essentially the same one the church believes in. They personally see it as simply a matter of semantics; they feel that what the aliens refer to as evolving is the same thing they teach about ethics. Basically for them it all boils down to how to better yourself as a person.”
“That’s fascinating, Chuck. It seems as though there are those among the Jewish and the Islamic faiths who also believe that these aliens are somehow Satanic and yet, at the same time, there are also highly esteemed representatives from those faiths who, like the Vatican, seem to embrace the aliens’ ideology.”
“That’s correct, Ted. I recently spoke with a pastor back in the U.K. from a large Protestant congregation who basically came to the same conclusion as the Pope. So, just as you stated, there doesn’t seem to be a consensus of opinion anywhere you go. We can only hope meetings like this continue to take place, to openly discuss the matter. I will have a follow-up report once I get more information.”
“Thanks Chuck.”
The camera cut back to the studio. “We will return to Vatican City once Chuck conducts those interviews, but right now, let’s go to Wall Street to see how the stock market is doing….”
“That’s wild. I wonder what Vanessa thinks about that?” Johnny said.
“I don’t know, but I definitely plan on asking her,” I replied, turning down the volume. “Hopefully this will give her a different perspective.”
“So what’s your plan for today?” Johnny asked.
“I’m still negotiating with a producer up in L.A. who has put together those programs on the Uncovering Life Channel. I’m firm that I have final say on the screenplay and be on the set for most of the production.”
“That’s awesome. I hope it all comes together soon. Surf’s good; you wanna hit it?”
“I haven’t paddled out in months, but I can write this proposal when I get back. “Meet me at Ninth Avenue in twenty minutes?”
“Can do,” said Johnny.
“Oh yeah, I’ll tell you when I get there about this incredible woman I just met. We’ve actually gone out a couple of times this week already.”
“She got any friends?”
“Do you think I want to blow it by getting her friends all mad at me for introducing them to you?” I said, laughing.
“Good call. See you at the beach.”
As soon as I got off the phone, I thought I recognized someone from the news story on TV, so I turned the volume back up.
“…in Paris where the negotiations are continuing for a prisoner exchange between Israel and Hezbollah. Some leaders from the European Union are here to mediate between the two and have said the talks have been progressing. Our sources say they expect to reach a settlement before the weekend.”
“Well, I’ll be. Looks like Mr. Boris Wolff is the man!” I said out loud. I flicked off the TV and headed to the garage to get my surf gear.
ONCE YOU SMELLED THE SWEET smoke pouring out of Ripley’s Soul Kitchen you had absolutely no chance and your car would automatically pull over into the nearest parking space available. Known by the residents of San Diego for its southern-style entrees and hospitality, Ripley’s was also loved because they featured local blues and jazz artists on the weekends.
Arriving earlier than my sister to beat the Sunday church rush, I grabbed a table near the window without having to wait. Vanessa walked briskly in at twelve-thirty and smiled brightly at the elderly hostess who had been working here ever since we could remember. Neither of us had to look at the menu because we both always ordered the same thing at our favorite downtown restaurant: a Barbeque Poor Boy Sandwich and a large iced tea.
“Hey, remember that time we went together to feed the homeless on Thanksgiving and you said you knew that guy pushing a shopping cart with all his belongings?” Vanessa asked.
“Tommy Garcia. He was a top-ten surfer before he started snorting his winnings away.”
“Great news. I just saw him speak at church today. He shared how God got him sober and off the street. Definitely looks better than when we saw him.”
“That’s good. Glad he made it.”
“He said he just got a job and found a little studio apartment.”
“You know, I really enjoyed going down there with you and helping out.”
“We should do it again this year,” Vanessa said, smiling.
I inquired about the kidnapping case she had been working on, and she said the incident might be related to some other unresolved abduction cases. She thought it was a syndicate job that revolved around a child pornography ring, but spared me any gruesome particulars as our food had arrived.
Since I had skipped breakfast, I inhaled my food while Vanessa slowly savored hers.
As I updated her on the movie deal, Vanessa held the straw between her fingers and slowly drank from her glass before offering, “Hmm… that’s interesting,” as she struggled to find another euphemism.
Clearly wanting to withhold her thoughts about my movie’s theme, she remarked “Looks like you got some sun. When have you had time to get outside?”
“I actually went surfing with Johnny earlier this week. It was the first time in ages. The waves were super fun.”
Taking a quick bite off her sandwich, she pulled the napkin up to shield her mouth from me. “Did you feel out of shape?” she uttered like an amateur ventriloquist.
“Oh, I definitely got winded, but you know, the kid’s still got it,” I said, patting my biceps.
She chuckled and nodded her head. “Well, at least one of us got to play. I’ve been wanting to ride my mountain bike, but can never seem to find enough time to go out and hit the trails. I’ve been riding the stationary bike at the station’s gym. At least I can catch up on news that way.”
“Hey, did you hear what the Vatican said a couple of days ago about extraterrestials?” I asked as our waitress refilled our iced teas.
“Yeah, actually, I was just listening to a huge discussion about that on a radio talk show on the way home from work on Friday
“So, what’d you think? It doesn’t look like the Pope thinks The Ancestors are from the pit of hell,” I said, leaning back in my chair.
“Well, I certainly don’t agree with everything the Catholic Church says. And I don’t look to the Pope to form my theology. I look to the Bible.”
“So, you don’t think a group of priests, who might’ve just possibly read the Bible a couple times more than you, could come to a logical conclusion?” I cocked my head to one side and held my hands out, waiting for a response.
“I’m not saying that. I agree with them that they are creations of God. But like I told you the first day, Jason made some very astute observations when considering their nature and their message. I don’t expect you to take a biblical view. All I’ve been trying to say is that I think you should be extremely cautious.”
“The strange part to me is you Christians can’t agree on anything. You must have a million different churches that all say something different.”
“Well, there is some truth to that. But when you break down the fundamentals of our faith, any true church believes the same things. Like that Jesus was born of a virgin and he lived a perfect life. That God is triune—Father, Son and Holy Spirit,” she said, taking the last bite of her sandwich and giving me a chance to interrupt.
“So you decide what a true
church is?”
She grabbed her iced tea and took a big gulp, before continuing. “I just tried to explain that to you, Zach. We may not agree on everything, but there are the essentials that we do. You know what…”
“Hey, wait a minute,” I said, cutting her off as I pointed to her brand new ring. “What’s up with this?”
“Well, I was actually planning on telling you today,” Vanessa gazed down, extending her ring finger out to admire the sparkling diamond.
“Jason proposed to me two days ago. We’re getting married next September.”
“What?” I shook my head as I chose not to feign my approval.
“What’s wrong, Zach?” she said, biting her lip.
“I don’t know. I mean, I didn’t even know you were a couple. How long have you guys been dating?”
“Well, only about three months, but we have both prayed about it for a while and we have a real peace about it.”
Folding my arms, I let out a breath and looked down at my plate. The waitress came by to give us our bill and I began twirling my straw around the bottom of my cup.
“Geez, Zach! Thanks for the ‘Congratulations, I am really happy for you, sis’ comments,” Vanessa shot at me as soon as the waitress left.
“Sorry, it’s just…” I paused.
“It’s just what? Spit it out, Zach!”
“Well, it’s bad enough with all your religious talk, but having to deal with both of you is going to be a nightmare,” I blurted out.
“I knew it. I knew that was the whole reason you didn’t approve of Jason. I don’t have to defend him, but I will. I am blessed to have a man like that in my life. He is compassionate and caring. He goes out of his way for people…”
“Look, I’m sure he’s a nice guy and all,” I said, realizing I shouldn’t have opened my mouth and wanting to backpedal. “I was just trying to make you see it my way.”
“There lies the problem. It’s the same old Zach. You want everyone to see things your way. Instead of being happy for me, you only care if it makes you happy.”
“That’s not…”
“Listen!” she cut me off. “I finally have a man who I know loves me just as I am, not what I can do for him. He is the first one in my whole life who hasn’t tried to get me to sleep with him…”
“Maybe he’s gay,” I quipped.
Vanessa stood up so fast that her chair screeched as it moved backwards across the tile floor and the noise caused everyone at surrounding tables to look our way. Jerking open her pocket book, she threw some money on the table. “You’re an egotistical jerk! Grow up already.” Vanessa turned and marched toward the door.
I looked to the side and immediately felt embarrassed as a preschooler stood in his chair staring at me. While I regretted my asinine comments, I truly dreaded the thought of having a Bible-thumping zealot as my brother-in-law.
WHERE THE BRIGHT MORNING SUNRAYS shining through my blinds had failed miserably to wake me, the doorbell proved triumphant. Grunting as I trudged down the hallway, I wondered when I would finally just disconnect this anti-sleep device.
“Zach, sorry to wake you,” Vanessa said quietly from my doorsteps. “But my conscience has been bothering me since yesterday. I wanted to say that I’m sorry for making a big scene at the restaurant and calling you a jerk.”
“Don’t sweat it, Vanessa. I deserved it. I’m the one who should be apologizing. I don’t even know why I made that lame crack about Jason,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “Why did you drive over here? Why didn’t you just call?”
“Because I got convicted about what I said and I didn’t want to apologize over the phone. I felt I needed to say it in person.”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t have to. I wasn’t mad at you or anything,” I said, still puzzled as to why she would hassle with the commute over here before her workday.
“I didn’t think you were, but I still felt bad about how things ended.”
“Look, just don’t go tell Jason what I said because I don’t want him to kick my teeth in,” I said, not thinking my comments would actually lead to an altercation between us.
“Zach, he would never beat you up. Make no mistake, he could,” she chuckled. “He was a Navy Seal before joining the Police Department.”
“Okay, things to remember: Don’t start a fight with future brother-inlaw,” I said, using my finger as a fake pen and pretending to write in an invisible notepad.
Vanessa laughed before adding, “Back in the day he was telling me that he used to think he was pretty macho and got into his share of bar brawls. When his head was shaved a couple of months ago, he showed me a scar on the back of his head where he got slammed with a beer bottle over in the Philippines.”
“Sounds pretty on-par for a Navy guy. Hey, you wanna come in and have some coffee?” I backed up and pulled the door all the way open.
“No, I’ll get some when I get to the office. I have a feeling I’m in for a long day so I need to get on the road. So, if you’ll just give me a hug, I’ll feel better and let you crash out,” she said with her arms extended.
“Of course,” I said, reaching over and embraced her. “Thanks for making the effort to come by.”
She smiled as she walked quickly over to her car. “I needed to do it. Have a good day,” she yelled before ducking into her car.
“You, too,” I hollered back and immediately wondered how that would be possible as she exposed herself to detailing heinous crimes committed against children.
While I brewed some coffee in hopes of jumpstarting my day, those plans ended with a newspaper folded against my chest as I fell back asleep on the couch. This time it only took a soft knock at the door to awaken me.
“Zach? Are you in there?”
I jumped up as I recognized Gina’s muffled voice behind the door. “Just a minute,” I yelled before rushing into the bathroom, gargling some Listerine, and throwing on some other clothes.
“Did you forget that I was coming over?” Gina asked as I opened the door.
“No, no. I just woke up earlier and ended up passing back out. Comeonin.”
The first couple of times Gina and I got together she rarely asked about The Ancestors, but the more time we spent together, the more the subject came up. I didn’t mind the conversations focusing on my encounters because it seemed to help us get to know each other on a deeper level. Sitting outside on my back patio, Gina started to elaborate about when she had heard about the visitation at the ranch.
“The day the story came out I can’t even explain how excited I became. I mean, things just seemed to start to click for me. I guess some would say I have kinda been a pessimist, just always seeing the negative things in life, but when I heard the message The Ancestors brought, I finally saw hope for the world,” Gina said.
“I know what you mean. Before I went to the ranch, I had actually been going through a bout of depression, which was weird for me, because I’m a pretty upbeat person. Writing had become beyond tedious, more like a chore than something I loved. Some of the things I’d been reporting on definitely played a part in making me all bummed out. But this experience has given me a great sense of purpose; really, a new reason to live. It is strange though, because while I still feel like the world’s spiraling out of control, I also feel there is immense reason for optimism.”
“I grew up going to Mass every Sunday. And I guess it was good at teaching me right from wrong. But, I had all these major questions about life and I never felt that my parents’ faith really answered them. But when I read what Shanda said, I felt a new awareness, and a deep desire to know more. When I saw you that first time in the parking lot, I felt it was our fate to meet. I almost let you just walk away, but…” Gina got up from her chair and came over and sat down next to me on the bench. “…I’m really glad I seized the moment.”
I put my arm around her, giving her a kiss and said, “Me, too.”
A pain shot thru my neck, causing me to pull away from her. I gripped the back of
my neck, trying to massage a giant knot.
“Are you alright?”
“Oh, it’s my neck. I’ve been bending over at the computer a little too much. It has been a lot of work trying to keep up with the webzine.”
“Hey, I’d be happy to help lighten your workload.”
“Be careful what you ask for.”
“No, seriously. It sounds really interesting.”
“If you’re up to it, we could always use the help. Let me show you what I’m working on.”
We got up and headed into my cluttered study where I showed her the numerous unopened emails and all the ones I had flagged that I intended to respond to later. I explained how I had received countless letters that were obviously fabrications, but was uncertain of the validity of others. Since one of my biggest challenges was deciding which stories were legitimate, I had played it safe by only publishing ones that seemed to relate to the message I had received, and those similar to the accounts of the people I had met at the ranch.
“Oh, you’ve got to hear this one.” I pointed to the one I had put two asterisks by and began reading:
“Mr. Miller, thank you so much for bringing the truth to the entire world about our ancestors. It was a great relief to hear from such a distinguished journalist as yourself who could validate what many of us have known to be true for many years. My first experience with The Ancestors occurred many years ago in the Ozarks in Southern Missouri. I’ve kept in contact with them ever since, and have been shown many wonderful things. The reason I am writing you today is to share something that was recently revealed to me. What I am about to tell you may sound unbelievable, but it indeed did happen.
