Maybe he can recommend the best place for us to start our tour.”
Beverly gathered her courage and kept pace with her companion as Jayce strode towards that man swinging his weed sickle. She watched the man’s long arm swing that blade, and she wondered how it was that the sickle seemed to pass through the weeds without so much as bending any of the wild grasses. The man’s glowing cigar reminded her of her grandfather’s smoking habit, and of his outlawed, black market cigarettes. Yet she failed to catch a sniff of tobacco from that glowing cigar as she and Jayce approached him.
Jayce nearly touched the man’s shoulder as he reached a hand forward to attract the man’s attention.
“Excuse me, sir. We’re hoping you might be able to help us with this memorial. All the tombstones make it hard to decide where to start.”
The man grunted as he let the sickle’s blade rest upon the earth. Pushing at the small of his back to help straighten a little taller, the man squared his face at the visitors, and Beverly betrayed a gasp. The man’s face was far from a handsome one. The underlining bone structure appeared off-kilter, so that one cheek rested higher than the other. His nose ran crookedly along the center of the face, suggesting a violent blow was responsible for each bend. A pink, welted scar ran down the man’s forehead and traveled across a filmy, white eye, while the man’s thick and mangled beard hid much of his lips, until the man smiled to show a mouth crowded with stumps and bits of brown teeth.
“Oh, you gave me a terrible jump,” a drawl slowed the man’s words. “Name’s Simon Turner. Excuse me if I don’t offer a handshake, son, but my fingers ache terribly these days on account of so many ruinous years.”
Simon lifted a hand and revealed a gnarled set of scabbed fingers. Beverly thought she saw a spot of underlying bone in the moonlight, but Simon quickly shoved his hands back into his pockets before she could tell for certain.
“We’re sorry to disrupt your work,” continued Jayce, “but we couldn’t help but think that the memorial’s caretaker would be the perfect person to ask what we should first consider.”
Simon chuckled. “Suppose I’m a caretaker in a way. I do my best to prevent things from being forgotten.”
Beverly frowned when Simon pulled the cigar from his mouth and casually tossed it, still smoldering, at the base of a tombstone. She glanced towards Jayce and noticed how her fiancé’s eyes narrowed upon the caretaker.
“Pardon me for saying it, Mr. Turner, but you’re just making your job more difficult by tossing cigar stubs about the ground,” said Jayce. “Don’t you think the people resting in this cemetery deserve better?”
Simon shrugged. “Son, I promise you that the folks buried under these stones are getting everything they deserve.”
Beverly suddenly felt self-conscious. “Jayce didn’t mean anything, Mr. Turner. He’s just graduated from the Starwatch, and they make such a big deal about keeping everything clean.”
“Of course.” Simon nodded. “The uniform looks terrific on you, son. I don’t doubt that jacket will look resplendent once you start earning your medals.”
Jayce grinned. “Where should we begin?”
Simon winked. “Just follow me.”
The caretaker dropped his weed sickle and limped off of the stone path and into the weed-infested cemetery plots. Jayce’s head swiveled back and forth to peek at the tombstone rows, paying just enough attention to the caretaker as needed to avoid straying from Simon’s guidance. Beverly knew Jayce’s imagination was an active one, and she suspected his mind was spinning stories regarding the brave exploits of each buried soul. But Beverly’s concentration was more disciplined, and she better focused on Simon’s walk. She thought the caretaker moved along the path more quickly than Simon’s long and awkward limbs suggested, and the weeds didn’t make the slightest rustle as Simon’s boots shambled forward.
Simon stopped before a tall and black obelisk. The obelisk lacked a name, nor did any dates define the window of a lifetime. A glass lens, no larger than a nickel, was recessed within the obelisk and appeared to be the only feature given to the stone.
“This always seems to be the grave most visitors want to see first,” answered Simon.
“Why’s there no name on it?” Jayce inquired.
Simon smiled. “Who knows if aliens even have names? You’ll find a small button on the side of that stone. Press it, and you’ll see what makes this grave a good place to start.”
Jayce quickly found the button and pressed the device. A charge of electricity hummed from within the obelisk, and the glass lens winked as a three-dimensional, glowing alien materialized above the grave. The hologram, knit from blue light, sculpted an intimidating and alien warrior. The horns that curved outward from the forehead stretched the alien’s height over ten feet, and fear surged through Beverly as she considered the four long, muscular arms that extended from a set of inhumanely wide shoulders. The alien’s arms ended in hands that held six sharp and pointed talons instead of fingers, and the glowing lizard’s legs shifted as a barbed tail snapped above the creature’s shoulders. Beverly knew that the alien’s lizard-like scales were composed of nothing more than light. She knew the hologram could do no harm to her, knew that she could easily pass her hand through the glow, that another press of that obelisk’s button would force that alien to vanish. Yet Beverly shivered all the same, for the alien’s eyes conveyed such hatred for humanity no matter that they were made only of shimmer.
Simon chuckled as a forked tongue flashed from the lizard’s mouth. “There it stands – the official alien that appeared over New Bethany, the official enemy the Starwatch and the people of Earth are dedicated to fight.”
Jayce whistled. “The hologram of that alien looks more terrible than even all the sketches in my Starwatch textbooks.”
“Just wait a minute,” Simon replied. “The alien puts on one heck of a show once the music starts.”
A thundering and threatening march of drums and horns erupted from speakers hidden within the obelisk. The alien threw back its arms, and a bladed weapon materialized in each hand of talons. The alien’s arms whirled, and Beverly held her breath as those spears and swords, made of nothing more than light, swept close to her face. She barely resisted a scream as the glowing alien swung a long sword across Jayce’s neck. What if that weapon had been made of something more than shimmer? What would happen if the aliens returned? What would happen when Jayce faced those aliens as the duty of his uniform demanded?
“Make it go away.” Beverly squeezed Jayce’s arm until her knuckles turned white.
Jayce pulled his forearm out of his fiancé’s grip. “Relax. I want to watch the alien dance. The dance helps the alien practice its martial skills and intimidates its enemies.”
“I don’t care about the dance,” Beverly scowled. “Just make the alien disappear.”
Simon frowned at Jayce before offering Beverly his smile of mangled teeth. “It’s fine, dear. That monster’s only a fiction of shimmering light. Just be brave and reach out to press that button on the side of that obelisk.”
Beverly jabbed at the button, and she grimaced as she broke a nail on the stone when her first attempt missed. Her second jab struck the button truly, and the shimmering alien vanished in an instant. The music disappeared at that same moment, and Beverly’s knees felt weak as the surge of adrenaline she summoned to touch that button emptied from her.
Jayce laughed and took Beverly’s hands into his own. “Just like the caretaker said, Bev. That monster was nothing more than blue sparkle.”
“It was still terrifying,” Beverly answered, “and it’s even more frightening to think that you might have to fight it. I would burn your uniform if that would save you from ever having to face such a creature.”
Jayce squeezed Beverly’s hands. “We have to be brave now. The Starwatch teaches that all of us possess more strength than we know, and that we’re all going to have to dig down deep to find that truth if Earth’s going to be ready in case the aliens attempt ano
ther invasion. It’ll be good for you to walk through this cemetery, Bev. You’ll feel stronger after you look at some of the other holograms. You’ll feel more courageous after you hear what the simple people of New Bethany did to resist the alien scourge. You’ll feel so much better about yourself after we leave.”
Simon giggled. “Oh, forgive me for laughing. Don’t think I mean any offense by it, son. It’s just hard for me to believe that New Bethany’s come to mean so much to folks.”
“You must be very proud of your community,” remarked Beverly.
Simon shrugged and led his guests through several bushes of brambles to arrive at the next sight of his impromptu tour. Beverly winced as the thorns scratched at her ankles and clutched at her hair. She did her best to emulate the steps taken by the caretaker, hoping that Simon’s path might warn her of the roots that might trip her, or of batches of poison ivy. But Simon gave no indication that any of the overgrowth impeded him in the least. He seemingly floated through it all, while Jayce lowered his shoulders and trampled through any untamed growth.
Simon stopped
Heritage and Shimmer Page 3
