Aprox. 1,236 words
PERCEPTION
©2003 by W. E. Lopez
“So, all of it was just a lie?” Forest Brook wiggled his toes in the hot
sand, yet never took his eyes from the woman’s face. Her dark hair, cut severely short, swept back
to frame her freckled expression. After
more than sixty years, Forest would have expected more freckles considering her
exposure to the tropical sun and salt spray of the sometimes crashing surf.
“Not exactly a lie, it’s all a matter
of perception. Imagine a dozen people
viewing the same painting. Each will
focus on the detail they feel defines the painting and consider to be the meaning and expression of the artist. Sometimes they will choose the same detail,
more often not. The dominant perception
will be the one which goes down in history, yet always subject to change. Historians change their theories as often as
they change their socks; even if that is not frequent.” Amy giggled, a soft little snicker escaping
her throat accompanied by tiny wrinkles at the corner of her eyes. She wore a khaki shirt with short sleeves and
khaki trousers. Her feet were bare,
accustomed to the sand and pebbles on the beach I guess, after so many years.
“And where do we go from here?” I
ventured.
“That’s up to Him. None of us know, but you can consider
yourself lucky to be one of us.”
“Lucky?” I rubbed my chin. After three days, the stubble was beginning
to irritate me. “I was happily casting for
trout in a stream in Idaho when I found myself collected by a flying
saucer. Unpleasant medical tests are not
my idea of lucky. I would have been
lucky if I’d hooked a four pounder and grilled it
over my campfire a few hours later. And
what happened to Lisa? Why isn’t she
here?”
“Not everyone makes the cut,
Forest. He only collects specimens with
no genetic defects. The fact that you’re
here means you are in perfect health, medically and genetically. Your off-spring will thrive and grow to
populate a new world. You should be
proud.”
“I was already proud of my life in
the old world. A military career behind
me, a nice retirement check, three best sellers and one movie of the week; why
should I want to give up all that?”
“Because mankind, in its collective
wisdom, was beating that horse to death,
“That, I doubt!” Forest said leaping
to his feet and beginning to stalk away in the damp sand where gentle surf
continued to rush in and out. Amy jumped
to her feet and followed.
“You’re wrong, Forest! He knows what is best for us and this is
salvation for those who are worthy!”
“Bullshit, Amy! It’s slavery!
He is not a god, merely a visitor; a traveler from the stars. He comes to Earth with science beyond our
understanding and we call it miracles!
Our science may not be as old as His, we may not understand as much as
Him, but we are learning and will continue to learn unless we choose
stagnation, what you call salvation.
“It’s not in the nature of man to
idle away eternity singing praises to His name.
We need purpose, we need struggle and challenge, even death may
sometimes be necessary, or we are but mushrooms growing in the shadow of
life. Stagnation is all He offers while
we stroke his ego singing praises to His name!”
“He’ll destroy you, Forest. You’re attitude is blasphemous and can’t be
allowed to contaminate the new world!”
“Blasphemy?
What is blasphemy other than a different way of thinking? You mean he should be entitled to govern our
thoughts too? I wouldn’t have thought it
of you. People still point to you as a
great person, Amy; far ahead of your time.
When you vanished the whole world mourned your loss and people are still
trying to solve the riddle of your disappearance today.”
“I crossed over, Forest. He collected me and brought me here to help
ease the transition of those who would come later.”
“Stuff it!” Forest told her. “You’ll never make a lap dog out of me. I’ll find a way to escape this tropical
paradise, for its no paradise to me. It’s
hell, Amy, not heaven!”
Rebuked, she remained rooted to one
spot as Forest walked away. He was a
strong one, she had to admit; a proud one!
The Savior would be forced to eliminate him, for discord could not be
tolerated in Paradise. A remote
communicator floated up to her, maintaining eye level on its local anti-gravity
beam. “That did not go well,” He
said. She respectfully bowed her head
before glancing at him in the visi-plate.
“I can bring him around, Lord. He will be a vital addition among all your
servants.” Admittedly, she was still
thrilled by the sight of his wide shoulders and straight back as he moved
farther down the beach.
“Walk with me, Amy… you have another
appointment shortly.” The seraphim began
leisurely floating down the beach toward what would become the next arrival
point.
“It is an honor to serve as your
greeter, Lord…”
“Hmm, yes,” the voice came to her.
“And who will this one be?” she said
by way of making conversation, out of politeness only; she had long ago grown
weary of curiosity.
“Another of the astronauts, Amy, a
very special young woman named Laurel Clark.”
“Astronauts, I still can’t get used
to that term,” Amy said. “Such a thing
was only a dream in my day.”
“Yes, there has been much progress, Amy,
most of it good, but I’m afraid your species is forgetting what you owe to
me. You were nothing but a bunch of
animal-like primitives before I took you in.
On more than one occasion I’ve had to destroy you or parts of your
species and hope you would learn from your mistakes. That young man you were just speaking to is
another of my disappointments. He will
bear watching.”
“Yes, Lord.”
“And you, Amy? You’re happy here?”
“Never happier, Lord.
I would have liked to complete my final flight. I would have wished Fred could join us, for
he was a true friend, but you always know what is best. It’s a privilege to serve you, Lord.”
The visage in the view plate smiled
at her. “You please me very much, Amy. Choosing you has been one of my many
pleasures. Oh, there she is now…”
Amy saw a dark-haired woman lying in
the sand a hundred yards away. She was
still wearing the orange jump suit that had been her final garment.
“Break the news to her gently, Amy. I’m sure she will be much welcomed by our
group once she understands our purpose.”
With that, the seraphim swiftly rose straight up and disappeared to the
west.
Amy walked to the figure lying on the
sand and sat down beside her. She
brushed an errant curl from the woman’s forehead. “Laurel Clark? I’m Amelia Earheart. Welcome to