Homeward Bound

 

            It took three days for the big coach to get from Luminous to Milltown. The ticket cost just short of 300 dollars and it was not a pleasure, except for the anticipation of being home and free to return to normal life.
            It’s not really a direct trip. There are loops through small towns to pick up passengers and drop others off. There are meal stops, and driver changes, etc. There is a restroom at the back of the bus, to be avoided if at all possible.

            In the daytime watching the scenery was interesting. At night, it was just dark.
            By the time we were in Washington, I was living out of bags of snacks and bottled drinks.  I didn’t want to get out of the bus and chance it taking off without me. The weather changed once we got on the left side of Cascade Range. There were only winks of sunlight between the clouds, fog and the almost steady light rain.
            When we pulled into the small station in Milltown it was dark, around 9PM. The driver got out and opened the hatch under the bus and handed me my two bags. I was exhausted and maybe a bit shell-shocked by the whole experience.
            Several other passengers disembarked and went to waiting cars, or out into the parking area and got into their own vehicle. I shouldered my small carryon and pulled the other one on its wheels as I started walking home like one in a dream. It felt cold to me, and I shivered.
            It wasn’t much a walk. Not even a mile. In a way I was afraid, now that I was here to face my family. What must they be thinking? I thought perhaps Levi had figured out that it must have something to do with my job, the death of my boss, supposedly at this own hand, and the incredible news that Hector Brown was releasing into the public. Maybe they thought I was dead.
            I made it to our block, walking more slowly and thinking. The evening small town urban scene looked so normal. But was it normal? What is normal? Possibly a popular illusion, I thought as I walked up to our front door. It was past 10PM. The house looked dark.
            I got out my key and let myself in. Silently, I shut the door behind myself and just stood there. There is a scent to one’s own home. Unforgettable. But no one was up. They were already sleeping at 10PM.
            So, I dropped my bags, pulled off my shoes and my jacket and padded into the bedroom. I sat on my side of the bed and said, “Levi, it’s me. I’m here.” His eyes flew open, and he blinked a few times, like I could be an illusion, then he sat up and said, “tell me.”
            So, I did. I started at the beginning and told him the whole improbable story. It had some weak points, but it held together because it was what had happened and there was no getting around that. It took an hour. I was so tired that I dropped off to sleep in my clothes and still kind of talking.
            In the morning, I had to tell my young son, and my skeptical teenage daughter the whole story over again, kid version. Eight year old Mark, and thirteen year old Laura did seem happy to have their vanished mother back, with some reservations in Laura’s case.
            It was a weekday morning, so both had to dress and go off to school. They were asked to not mention anything about their mother one way or the other. Levi took the day off. I hadn’t been gone long. The major difference was that I had no job to go to.
            Levi and I spent the day with the news on. Dr. Brown’s news with my own photos was keeping the internet and broadcasting hot.
            My old employer, the big airplane company, was coming under some serious pressure to explain themselves. They really couldn’t. Somehow, either they themselves were behind this secret research and development, or they had possibly unwittingly sheltered such a black organization, though that was hard to believe.
            My own part in this disclosure was obscured. I was never mentioned publicly, although anyone who worked near me at the plant, should have been able to deduce who had taken the photos.
            Mark and Laura came home in the afternoon, all full of talk about flying saucers. I winced. I didn’t want them to see any connection between me and the news of the day, even though it involved my old place of work. They had to be putting two and two together, since I wasn’t going back there to work.
            I made dinner. We sat together and it went pretty normally. That word again.
            Evening came and went. It got dark.
            I heard someone say my name. “Jenae.” I looked over at Levi. It hadn’t been Levi.
            “Oh no,” I said aloud. “No. No, not here!”
            “We’re here, Jenae,” said the internal voice.
            I had an awful suspicion, so I ran to the front door just to check outside.
            There, on the dark front lawn, hovered Raven. His orange running lights gleaming dully, but as big as life. Like the manifestation of a dream, there he floated, improbable but so real, as tangible as anything else on the planet.
            Once more, the knowing came to me in the form of language, “We have a message for you, a warning. You must attend!”
            “Oh please, no!” I cried.
            “Be at peace Jenae. We come in peace,” the voice persisted. “It’s love that brought us to your door.”