|
Poof
by
Deborah McKerley
When my older son Johnny and his family visit my
modest home, it's always a three-ring circus. At these times, my
soul longs for solitude. The night is finally quiet. With a
contented smile on my face and a glass of good wine at hand, I lay
back, settling deeply into the nest of pillows heaped upon the
sofa. An old movie rerun is playing on the late, late show. The
solitude of the early morning hour is a perfect end to a hectic
day. I'm soon drifting, content in my comfort zone. Every so often
a siren pierces the quiet night on the way to an accident scene or
fire. Such is life. After a while you begin to ignore the night
song of the city. Unless, of course, it is you that needs the
assistance.
My peaceful contemplation is interrupted by an
alien sound, like the sharp intake of breath through the clenched
teeth of a thousand people all at once. The television screen goes
black. The few lights that had been casting a soft glow go dark.
"Damn, another power outage!"
The sounds of sirens intensify in the predawn
darkness. Radiant flashes of red, blue, and green pulsate through
the slightly parted curtains. This is freaky. I open my front door
and cautiously walk outside onto the porch.
From my front porch, a half dozen of my
neighbors' houses can easily be seen. I stand watching as one by
one, they emerge from their homes. My neighbors, all in various
states of undress, look up, pointing frantically into the darkened
night sky. Is it animal instinct or just human nature that drives
us to see what others find fascinating?
The sight of everyone outside draws me further
into the night. I have to see what has the entire neighborhood in
such an upheaval.
Looking up toward the sky, my mind goes numb.
G-d, I wish I hadn't looked! I'm dumbfounded! The flashing lights
are coming from something not of this world. Hovering above our
little house is this huge disc-like object. It is so
incomprehensibly large that it can be seen far beyond the end of
our block. The lights are pulsating around its perimeter and it
seems to be the source of a consistent resonating hum that
penetrates to the core of my existence. Horrified, I rush back
into the house, determined to deny the reality of what is
happening. It doesn't work.
With my heart pounding, I fumble for the phone.
There is nothing but static on the line. My mind fills with images
of my own impending demise. A pathetic moan escapes my lips. My
fingers run through my hair as I frantically look around the
darkened room. What should I do now? Without power and no phone,
how am I supposed to find out what is going on, or call for help?
Daniel has a battery powered boom-box! Turning
the corner, I dart into his room like a demon with a purpose. The
glowing, pulsating lights outside allow me to see the shapes of
the objects strewn around his room. As usual, it appears that a
tornado has passed through just this one room of the house. I
don't see it!
The closet … it must be in the closet! I open
the door and peer into the dark recess and begin casting aside
shoes, puzzles, games, action figures, comics, books and all types
of electronic gadgets over my shoulders. Something moves in the
darkness and my scream fills the room. Has my home already been
invaded? Tripping over the pile behind me, grasping at thin air, I
find myself sitting on the floor watching open-mouthed as a single
shadowy shape darts past me. That damn stupid cat!
With the flashing lights at my back, the
resonating hum jarring my bones, on the top shelf of the closet I
spy my prize. The boom box is perched on the shelf like a beacon
in a storm. Standing on legs that feel like rubber, my arms seem
to telescope from my body like Elastic man in the Fantastic
Four comics that Daniel loves so well. Cradling my prize in my
arms as if it were a child needing protection, I ignore the tears
of despair streaming down my face. Forcing myself to breathe
normally, I flip the switch to turn the radio on. Damn! Nothing
but static, the full spectrum of both AM and FM stations all leave
the same static buzzing in my ears. Whimpering, the useless
albatross slips from my hands, crashing to the floor of the
closet.
The eerie silence is suddenly overpowering. The
only sound in the house is that of my own ragged breathing and the
ever-present hum. It is as if my house has been transported
through time and space to an alternate universe, forcing me to
live out my existence alone. There are stories about life in the
1800s in which people were often buried alive. My coffin is larger
but this must have been what it was like, to awaken alone with no
way out.
Fear of being alone causes panic to rear its
ugly head. Oh my G-d … the kids! Behind me in Daniel's bed,
there is the familiar shape of his form covered from head to toe.
No sound is coming from him. An irrational fear that when my
fingers finally reach across the distance to touch him, his body
will be cold and lifeless, overwhelms me.
In my panic, my heart feels like a jackhammer in
my chest. With trembling hands I reach out. My numb fingers
grasping the covers and pulling them from his limp form and
shaking him awake. A euphoric feeling radiates from my soul as his
eyes open. His mischievous brown eyes, showing first confusion and
then aggravation at being awakened! Taking him by the hand and
pulling him roughly behind me, we make our way through the house,
waking Johnny, Chelle and the girls. Thank God we are all okay! I
won't have to suffer this alone.
This must be what a mental overload feels like.
My family stands in the living room, wiping the sleep from their
eyes, looking at me as if they were instead peering into the eyes
of an escaped mental patient intent on destroying their sanity.
Johnny speaks up, "Mom, are you okay?"
My family continues to look at me as if I'm
feeble minded or certifiably insane. That's it … yeah! Call for
the straightjackets! A giggle slips out at the thought. If I am
crazy, too bad kid. You're stuck with me, there's no one left to
call.
One rational thought slips through the haze of
confusion that fills my brain and sanity once again rules. My
grandbabies are frightened. Holding my arms out, walking toward
them, Jesse retreats further from me but Tiffy reaches out.
Placing her on my hip, she leans forward and kisses my nose,
wrapping me in the love that only a child gives so freely.
Daniel growls, as is his early morning routine.
"It's after three in the morning! What's going on?" He
finally notices the pulsating lights outside the house and walks
to the window peering outside.
I'm feeling as if I'm choking on a mouthful of
cotton. I can barely breathe, I can't speak. No sound will come
out. The overpowering fear of the unknown is tightening its
clutches once again. Grasping Daniel by the shirt collar, I shove
him out the front door. He looks in open-mouthed astonishment at
all of the people crowded into the street looking skyward as the
pulsating colored lights illuminate the night. He steps to the
front yard and joins the crowd looking toward the unknown.
He turns to me, confusion plainly showing on his
face, masking the fear that is there just under the surface.
"Mom!"
Johnny and Chelle with the girls in tow join
Daniel looking up at the strange object that fills their realm of
vision. Johnny has always been a sci-fi buff; his eyes grow wide
in wonder as he looks at the disc-like object above. With a smile
on his face he looks at the rest of us and says, " I knew
this would happen someday! As big as the universe is, there has to
be life out there." He takes Tiffy from me and begins
swinging her around, pointing out the color changes as they
happen. Her laughter accents his shouts of, "Red, Blue,
Green," as he dances around excitedly with her in his arms.
Daniel and Chelle, with Jesse still clinging
tightly to her, look to me for some type of explanation. There is
none. The weight of the world is on my shoulders. I want so to
pretend none of this is happening, but it is. Sighing loudly, I
sit down on the porch steps hard enough to make my teeth rattle.
Chelle and Jesse wander over and sit beside me. Jesse is always
sensitive to her mom's fears and is still clinging tightly to
Chelle. We will get out of this somehow! Jesse gives me a weak
smile as she hides her face in her mom's bosom.
Johnny is like a kid in Disneyland. He is truly
in his element as he walks toward the road. Most of the neighbors
have either wandered there or back inside their homes. The traffic
on our street is never heavy but tonight it is nonexistent. Johnny
is talking to Mr. Ryan and a few of the other men from the
neighborhood. Tiffy stands proudly beside him clinging to his
hand.
Daniel has found a group of teenagers and is in
the midst of some big discussion. I'm not sure that I really want
to know what it is about. All mothers know that sometimes it's
better if you just don't know.
The boys join us on the porch. Tiffy falls into
the peaceful slumber of the innocent in Johnny's arms. He looks to
me saying, "Mom, I tried the cars. Neither will start. The
other guys told me the same thing about theirs. They're all
useless. I think it is some type of magnetic interference caused
by either the lights or that humming sound. Are we gonna stay
here," he asks hopefully, "or do we leave?"
Praying that this is the right choice, looking
in the faces of my family, I tell them, "Let's wait a bit and
see what's going to happen. If it's still here by 6 a.m. we
walk."
Though Jesse had been trembling with fear
earlier, she had settled down enough to drift into a fitful sleep.
Johnny with Tiffy in his arms and Chelle with Jesse in hers follow
Daniel and I inside. We pull mattresses from the beds to the
middle of the living room floor, taking comfort from the fact that
we are at least all together.
We wake throughout the night each time the nerve
shattering high-pitched whine begins anew. The flashing lights are
constant, an irritating reminder of what awaits us outside.
By five in the morning I can stand it no longer.
Quietly slipping out the door I look up to see it is still there
as ominous as ever. Questions tumble over one another in my mind.
Who are these things, beings? Where are they from? Why are they
here? Why does it have to be now? What do they want? Is this the
way the world is really going to end for us? The questions are
endless. There are no answers, not any that I know of.
A few of my neighbors are still outside,
watching and waiting. Mr. Ryan, my closest neighbor, is sitting on
his porch with his wife. Mr. Ryan nods to me as I sit down at
their side. Their boys are running around the yard, darting from
bush to tree, pretending to be space invaders. The oldest in a
deep voice says, "Take me to your leader." It seems so
... fitting.
"Has anything changed at all? Have you
heard anything?"
With a sigh that seems to rattle his thin frame
to its very center, he drops his head saying, "Deborah, it's
like we are the only ones that can see the thing. No newspaper or
TV people have showed up, not even the first policeman or National
Guardsman. How can something like this happen and the rest of the
world not know?"
That thought hadn't even entered my mind. It has
now been hours and no one from outside of the neighborhood has
come to see what is happening to us. "Me and the kids are
gonna walk out in about an hour. It's not safe to stay here any
longer."
"Not safe to leave either ... Ron
tried." Mr. Ryan raises a shaky hand and points to a nearby
neighbor's house. "Must've been about three hours ago. I
watched him leave. He got as far as the end of the street and then
he began to scream like he was dying or something and then poof,
he was gone."
"Gone? Gone where?"
Mr. Ryan points up. "There is what I think.
You have heard the stories from all of those people who claim to
have been captured by aliens and find themselves on board a
spaceship being experimented on. Hell, some of 'em ain't never the
same anymore. I always thought before now it was a bunch of
malarkey, but it seems I have been proved wrong. Do you really
want your kids to be poked and prodded by something unholy? I
ain't gonna chance it, I just caint."
The last few hours have left me feeling beaten.
Adrenaline is the only thing that has kept me moving. Now the full
weight of our situation falls on me. It's like being caught in an
avalanche with nowhere to turn. I walk to my house and sit on the
porch with my head pounding, so much has happened. What will we do
now? It seems we will have to stay, leaving is no longer an
option. Standing up and wandering inside, the kids listen, their
attention rapt as I repeat word for word what Mr. Ryan had told
me.
Chelle looked at the girls in the next room when
she turns back to us, tears threatening to overflow. "What
about food? In a few days, we're going to be hurting. I don't want
the girls to have to stay here and starve."
Johnny's arm slips around Chelle's shoulders and
he pulls her close. "Mom is right. It's not safe to leave
right now. I know as long as we stay put, we'll be safe, I just
feel it." He grins and adds, "And just think of the
stories we'll have to tell the grandkids."
With a sigh I turn to Johnny. "We need to
get everyone together because food is going to be a problem.
Without electricity, the perishables will soon be gone."
Johnny and Daniel go in one direction, Chelle and I in the other.
We tell everyone to bring out their meats and we'll have a block
party of sorts, right in the middle of the streets. We caution
them to bring only meats though. We could need the other foodstuff
later.
Within an hour, we have a huge bonfire and all
kinds of meats cooking on open flames at different points nearby.
A couple of the guys play instruments, so soon we have a kind of
Karaoke thing going on. There is a lot of laughter from the kids.
They are running, playing tag, the boys are pulling the girls'
hair while the girls are chasing the boys trying to kiss them.
Everything seems so normal, until you look up. That is all it
takes to reaffirm just how much our reality has been changed.
Comfort comes from the strangest places at times
like these. Most of my neighbors have been here for twenty years
without really giving each other the time of day. Now, however,
with the crisis we are facing, a bond has formed. Friendships and
budding romances are beginning. We appear as if we have all been
close friends for years, rather than being thrown together only a
few short hours ago through a freaky twist of fate.
With our stomachs filled and the kids at play,
we sit down at the few picnic tables we have set up in the shade
to talk. It seems amazing to me to that there are those that
actually still want to leave, even after being told what had
happened in the early morning hours.
Johnny stands facing the group. "I know it
is accidental that my family, other than mom and Daniel, are here
right now. We have talked it over and I agree with mom. We should
stay, pool our resources and make the best of it. This thing that
is hanging over our heads won't be here forever. It will leave. I
intend on keeping my family safe, alive and well to tell the tale
once it's gone."
Paul Akroyd, the neighborhood know-it-all,
speaks. "I think this is all a lot of bull. I'm leaving and
soon. I think I'll take my chances."
Steven, a man I had spoke to maybe twice in
passing, stood with his open hands striking the table in
frustration. "You can't mean that. You'll be walking to your
deaths."
Bill Johnson stands facing Steven. "He's
not the only one that feels that way. And me, Mary and the kids
are going too. We won't stand around waiting to die. We are
leaving."
The frustration in my soul is overwhelming.
"Bill, at least leave the kids and if you get out safe, you
can come back and get them. Why condemn them to an early grave
just because you are too scared to turn the corner and see what
life holds here. Is this the way you deal with all of your
problems? You run away?
Haven't you ever stood your ground for a cause or faced your fears
to overcome them?"
Bill shook his head. "Deborah, I am only
doing what I think is right for my family, just like you are doing
what you feel is right for your own."
We try our best, but out of the thirty adults,
ten decide stay and only two of those leaving could be talked into
allowing their children to stay behind with us until they could
return. Once they leave, our world will be considerably smaller.
After a heated discussion, it is decided that
all of those leaving should do so together, sort of make a last
stand so to speak. High noon was the chosen time. The thought was
that it would give them time enough to find suitable shelter
before dark. Those anxious to leave seem to feel that once away
from here, the rest of the world will be as we'd always known it.
Doubts fill my mind. The feeling that they are sealing their own
death warrants weighs heavy on my mind.
Those hiking out go to gather a few personal
belongings before leaving. At noon my family is standing on the
porch at my side, watching our newfound friends walk to their
deaths. We all wave and wish them luck. They turn and head down
the street opposite the direction that Ron had taken the night
before. It's beginning to look like they are going to make it.
Maybe they are right. Maybe we should all just leave.
They are nothing more than small silhouettes in
the distance as the keening sound that had awakened us during the
night fills the air. It starts as a low hum getting louder and
higher in pitch until we feel our eardrums will burst. This time
the screams and cries of my friends accompany the sound until
there is nothing. I run down the street toward them. I don't know
why, maybe I can save someone ... I don't know.
Strong arms encircle me, holding me back. My
resolve crumbles as I stand there with my head upon his shoulder,
feeling his arms tightly around me, giving and taking comfort. It
could have been the devil himself and I would have welcomed the
embrace. Pushing away, wiping my tear-stained eyes, I find myself
looking for the first time ever into Steven's soulful blue eyes.
My God, they are the deepest eyes I have ever seen.
Just like Mr. Ryan said he had heard earlier
when Ron disappeared, we hear poof and the bodies are no more. We
walk dejectedly back toward the center of our new world wondering
if any of us will ever leave here alive.
In a sudden burst of retaliation, I raise my
tightly clenched fists to the sky and scream, "Damn you! What
do you want of us?"
We fill the rest of the day scavenging our
missing neighbor's homes for food, blankets, anything we can use
to survive. There are only twenty of us and we find mountains of
stuff to eat. I can't help but worry about the kids. It would be
just like them to refuse whatever is offered and beg for
McDonald's or something. They surprise me and eat whatever we give
them. We have about a month's food supply and by boiling the water
from the stream that ran behind the house ... Had that always been
there? Water is no longer a problem.
We move into the four homes in the center of the
block. My family will stay where we are as well as the Ryans.
David, Anne and their kids take the one by the Ryans. Donna, Bill,
Steven and the rest of the kids take the large house next to mine.
I don't know about everyone else, but it makes me feel better just
to know we are all within hollering distance.
The disc has not moved at all. The only recent
activity had been when the others had tried to leave earlier. The
lights continue to flash. The whining is less frequent now. That's
probably because all of the pets and wildlife on the block have
already wandered to the end of the block where they were
vaporized. There is now very little that actually lives in our
small world.
There is nothing I can do. This is the one time
in my entire life I feel totally useless. Steven walks across the
yard and joins me. We sit on the porch as darkness, broken by the
flashing light from the disc, falls across what has become our
world. Without a word between us, he heads toward his new home
leaving me to walk into my own. Daniel isn't home yet. Why worry?
Where can he go? So what if he and Lisa should get close? We are
all gonna die soon anyway.
Exhaustion hits me as soon as my head touches
the pillow and I sleep like the dead.
Pushing my way through the haze of sleep, my
senses are attacked by that incessant whining, the sound that we
have come to associate with death. The early morning is suddenly
filled with screams that finish pulling me from my deep sleep and
into full consciousness.
Struggling with the covers that are wrapped
securely around me, I manage to free myself and bound out onto the
porch. Too late ... three of our four homes have people on the
porch. The fourth, the Ryans', is empty. The population of our
world is now fifteen. Tears begin to stream down my face. How much
longer till we too will die? We send the kids back to bed knowing
that none of us will sleep any more this night.
Somehow I did manage to fall asleep. As I wake,
my body protests, feeling as if I have been run over and left for
road rations. Everyone is moving about. The laughter of the kids
as they play fills the morning. Daniel and Lisa are teaching the
younger ones to play baseball. I watch through the window as the
scene unfolds before me. Lisa misses a pitch that a three-year-old
could have connected with. Daniel is eating it up. It is good to
see them all at least pretend life can be normal again, to
continue as though today is just another boring day.
I get up in search of coffee and aspirin,
returning moments later to the sofa to watch the kids and their
game through the open window when, without warning, a
strange-colored rain begins to fall. The younger kids are playing
in the multi-colored puddles that are forming in the front yard,
gleefully splashing as the colored water flies around their
ankles. Daniel and Lisa are watching from the shelter of the
porch. It should have been a reassuring sight, but something is
just not right. After much coaxing we finally get the smaller kids
to join us on the porch. As we are drying them off, the rain stops
and seems to disappear from the ground immediately, leaving
everything dry and sparkling.
The rest of the day is uneventful. As night
approaches, we all fall asleep in the bigger house together. It is
kind of cramped, but we feel it best. The kids, resilient as ever,
are soon soundly asleep. One by one the others drift off until
Steven and myself are the only two awake. There are bodies
everywhere. He tells some stupid blonde joke and I laugh.
"You have a very nice smile, you should
smile more often," he tells me as he walks over and wraps
those wonderful strong arms around me. My body is trembling so
under his touch, I know there is no way he can not feel it too. He
strokes my hair, leans close and kisses me deeply. It is as though
we are the only two people in the world, I can't help but laugh.
We almost are. The first genuine smile in days appears on my face.
I look into his face savoring every detail for what will soon be
my fate.
Childish laughter fills the air, seeming to
attack us from all directions at once. It isn't our kids, but we
go from room to room checking on them anyway. The laughter
continues, getting louder and higher in pitch until it is the
keening we have come to dread.
"Do we move the kids?"
He starts to answer as the keening dies into the
laughter and then finally a tomb like silence fills the night. I
am trembling like a leaf on a tree as Steven takes my hand and
leads me outside.
We look to one another, the confusion we feel
showing clearly on our faces. The lights are no longer flashing!
The disc is replaced by shadows. Where the moon should have been
there are two huge angelic faces looking down on us.
Grabbing Steven's hand, I pull him inside. The
keening begins once again in earnest. Steven pulls me close and
holds me tightly until the noise finally stops. We check on
everyone and lay down on a blanket side by side. Never in my life
have I taken as much comfort from a man as I do from having him
near me this night. Never, I think as I go to sleep.
Confusion overwhelms me upon waking. Steven is
still at my side but we are no longer in the house! Is this
Heaven? Have we been killed in our sleep? Never in my wildest
dreams have I ever envisioned death to be like this. Like a child
awakening from a bad dream, I pinch myself and rub my arm ... that
hurt. Turning to Steven, I shake him awake. His eyes widen in
shock as he becomes aware of the fact that we are no longer home.
Hell we aren't even in Kansas anymore Toto!
The door opens and in walks the most beautiful
being ever to have graced God's green earth, if that's where we
are. Maybe we are in heaven and this is an angel or maybe we have
gone the other direction and it is just the devil in disguise.
It's impossible to tell if it is a man or a woman. The
broad-featured face is framed by short, light colored hair; the
flat chest attached to very broad shoulders and muscular arms. The
being has a thin waist with legs and buttocks that are shapely and
feminine. The only attire seems to resemble a toga like those worn
in ancient Rome cinched tightly at the thin waist by a strip of
leather-like material.
I wonder if our other neighbors that have
disappeared are here as well. What kinds of experiments are going
to be performed on us? Will we survive the ordeal? Steven's arm
slips around my shoulder and I lean close, accepting the token
gesture like a drowning person would a life saving float, drawing
strength from his touch.
Steven's arm drops away from me and we cover our
ears as the being opens its mouth and the keening sound we've
heard so many times these past few days poured forth. "Stop
it!" I scream.
"Stop it," the being mimicks.
"What do you want from us"? Steven
asks.
Once again the being repeats what had been said.
The childish laughter we had heard before begins again, only this
time the being looks up. "Stop it!" the being commands,
its voice echoing throughout the chamber and the laughter dies
away.
Steven wraps his arm protectively around me.
"What do you want from us?" he asks.
The being put its arms out to its side and
slowly raises them in an imploring gesture.
"Where is everyone else?" I ask.
The being gave me a blinding, toothy smile that
seemed to fill the void of space all around us. "They are all
well, where you left them in the shelter."
"What about the others that have
disappeared over the last couple of days?"
"I am sorry. I do not know of them. They
may be lost to you," was the answer received.
"Are we going to die?" Steven asked.
"No, now that I have found Alexis and
Andrea, I will return you to where you are from and they will have
their makers to deal with. They are in much ... hot water?
Trouble. Is that the right word?"
Steven looks at me strangely as I began to laugh
hysterically. "Kids ... you mean to tell me this was a kid's
prank?"
"I am sorry, I do not know 'prank', but it
was Alexis and Andrea wish to study other life forms and they
chose you. All will be restored. Now sleep."
The darkness is instantaneous and suffocating.
My breathing is hampered and nightmares fill the dark void that
encompasses me. When at last I wake to find the sun shining
brightly through my window, I hear the kids arguing. Daniel's
music is blaring and the TV is on loudly in the living room. I get
up rubbing the sleep from my eyes. What a dream, but it all felt
so real.
Walking into the kitchen I pour food into the
cat's bowl. I stare at the bowl as if it could talk, could give me
the answers my confused mind longs for. Could it have been real? I
shake the strange feelings of loss, confusion and despair as I
pour a drink for myself and walk out onto the porch.
Steven is walking across the yard toward me.
Unconsciously, my hands stray to my head and smooth my hair as he
steps on the porch and smiles shyly at me. "I dreamed of you
last night."
My chin drops to the floor as he recounts point
by point my dream. "Is it mass hysteria? It seems we both had
the same dream. Steven, what time do you have?"
He checked his watch. "Eleven."
A car passes by, Rap music blaring from its
speakers. It seems normality has returned to our lives. "Mr.
Ryan should be out by now or at least their kids," I say,
looking at Steven.
The neighborhood is quiet as King Tut's tomb
before the excavation had begun. I take Steven by the hand and we
begin knocking on doors. The fifteen of us that made up our dream
world are fine. Everyone else was gone. We have to call the
police, but what can we tell them? I can imagine the looks we'll
receive as we tell them about the dream we shared. Then there is
the fact that now all of our neighbors we'd dreamed went poof, are
gone. There has to be another way.
We call the police and report the
parents of the kids left behind missing, which will have to be
enough ... for now. I have never been so glad to see a policeman
in my entire life. My heart soars the way it did when my kids were
born as I see the police car pull into the driveway. It means that
we are really back in our own reality and that everything is going
to be okay.
Epilogue
Missing persons reports are filed as relatives
check on mothers, fathers, aunts, uncles and cousins in houses
that remain suspiciously empty. Those of us left are questioned to
no avail. Everyone seems to have just disappeared. After six
months or so, the cases of missing persons go into unsolved files.
The houses begin to go up for sale one by one as either the banks
repossess the homes or they are sold by relatives that no longer
feel their loved ones will be found alive.
The fifteen of us that are left never really
discuss what went on those couple of days. Most seem not to even
remember. Steven and I know there is nothing we could say that
wouldn't land us in a loony bin so we keep our dreams of people
going poof to ourselves.
The two girls left behind by their parents are
made wards of the court until Steven and I marry and adopt them.
Daniel and Lisa are getting serious. I'm happy about that. They
are good for one another and after all they've shared, I can see a
lasting relationship ahead for them. Not one of our neighbors who
went poof has ever been seen again. The neighborhood is still
varmint free. The houses are slowly filling up again and the
street is slowly coming back to life. Me, I live each and every
day as if it were going to be my last. I am just glad to be alive
and a part of THIS world.
The End … or is it a new beginning?
#
Deborah
McKerley was born in a rural Georgia town in 1957 when Elvis was
King, the twist was the exercise of choice, and ducktails were the
rage. Much of her childhood was spent reading. Books became true
friends that allowed escapes to wild and exotic places. They
filled life with adventure and travel to strange worlds. Is it any
wonder that a passion for the craft emerged?
|
