The Crossing

Chapter One

Kathryn Kelly had been in the writing business for almost thirteen years. She starting
writing because she couldn’t sing. She found she needed a way to give back to the universe
something of what she’d been given. And since she couldn’t sing, she wrote. She had talent
and she did well. A couple of children’s books, several articles, and was, during the coldest
summer ever in San Francisco, thinking about a first novel.

Then fate intervened. On a cool summer morning in mid-August, Jason, Kathryn’s

husband of almost fifteen years wandered into their second story flat in downtown San
Franciso and informed his wife that he had given up his tenture at the San Francisco
museum and had decided to move the family from California to Sedona, Arizona. Jason,
usually a staid conformist who loved working in the dry environment of the museum
archives, found what he had been searching for all his life.

After discovering several misplaced digital photos of rock outcroppings with pictographs,
their message sent Jason to Sedona, Arizona and then to Sunset Crater National Park where
he uncovered an ancient Anasazi village now called Canyon de Kelly. After receiving
several grants, one from Save America’s Treasures, another from the National Trust for
Historic Preservation, and lastly from the Arizona State Historical Fund, nothing could
stop him. Not even the grumblings of his wife and child.

Married at eighteen, Kate Kelly, had spent more than a few years listening to Jason’s
continued verbosity regarding the Anasazi civilization. She fell in love with their culture
and decried the rumor of their cannibilism. The Anasazi carved out an existence in the hills
and mountains of the desert. They dug pits, hunted elk, and grew maize. Their first
dwellings were pit houses that were often made of horizonal logs laid with mud mortar.
Later they created elaborate cliff dwellings and terraced apartment houses of stone, mud,
and wood. Jason had found the former; logs, a firepit and a ball court. But it wasn’t the dig
that upset Kate. And it wasn’t really the move, though it brought hardship to herself and
her son. No, what bothered her most of all was the lie. Jason had known about the grants
and the dig for more than a year before the great announcement. Not once had he
mentioned it to Kate or to Ryan and it was his betrayal by silence that bothered her most of
all.

So, Kate tried everything – from tears to hysterical anger resulting in several broken cups
of her favorite Carrollton china, not to mention a few plates and saucers. She loved pottery
and she loved shaping it from clay. Often, when Jason was on a dig, Kate assisted in
restoring the bits of ancient pottery left behind by dead civilizations. Consequently,
breaking her favorite china bothered her so much it almost always reduced her to tears. But
it was to no avail. She had to leave her beloved city and travel to the red rock desert of
Sedona, where the night sky stretched into infinity and the howls of the skittish coyote
could be heard nightly.

She packed their bags, arranged for the furniture movers, canceled a trip to her mother’s
at Mammoth Lakes, said good-bye to her dearest friends, comforted their son, and moved
on with life. She drove their Lexus complete with seat warmer, DVD-satellite television,
and XM radio, which had by all accounts eaten Sirus alive several years previous, through
the cool, mist covered valleys of the Bay Area, straight through the green lushness of the
San Fernando Valley, and on to the bleak desert landscape of the Mohave. She entered
Sedona three days later with her thirteen year-old son, Ryan.

Accompanying Kate and Ryan during their journey was the newly discovered comet Eros.
It was a large comet and colored an unusual reddish orange. During the day, its passage
was so close to the sun that it was hard to see, but at night, the comet did a stand-up dance
across the sky, coloring everything on Earth with its blood-red passage. Some people said
the comet was slowing Earth’s rotation, others said the comet was responsible for global
warming. But most people said the comet was just a comet, swinging close enough to
Earth for its tail to leave bits of red metallic dust over everything in sight.
 Kate spent the first week in her new home putting away boxes, tending to her son’s
enrollment in a new high school, and buying furniture. The second and third week was
spent trying to learn the streets of her adopted city, adapt to the inhuman heat of the desert,
and to digging in the dry red dirt attempting to get something green to grow in the
courtyard of their new home. By the fourth week, with Ryan in school and Jason hardly
ever home, she spent most of her days napping, perhaps a little depressed, a lot lonely, and
oh so ready to return to her flat on the hill in San Francisco.

Kate quickly discovered that she hated the heat, detested the black desert nights, and the
blood-red soil of Thunder Mountain frightened her as much as the comet. She couldn’t
write, couldn’t fall asleep at night, and hadn’t the energy of dead cockroach. The laundry
was left unwashed, the dishes undone, and she’d hadn’t had a haircut, a manicure, or a foot
massage since leaving the city. But most of all, she hated Jason. And the hate was growing
daily. His voice irritated her, his manners bothered her, but more than anything else, his
habitual contrariness that she’d lived with since she was eighteen jangled her nerves until
she wanted to scream. She allowed him the fact that he was fifteen years older than she and
at forty-eight was having some kind of midlife crisis she was not prepared for. She
probably could have forgiven him anything if she were able to sleep at night instead of
having to sit in her favorite chair, watching the stars rotate across the heavens with dull
regularity accompanied by the creepy orange-red comet Eros. Naps became her salvation
and then her damnation.

Kathryn Kelly rolled over, a slight snore interrupting her sleep. A thin line of saliva
dribbled down her chin as she buried her face into a pillow. She tried to breathe and
couldn’t. Her body twitched as it fought for air. Terrified, one eye opened and…

There was darkness.

Incense clung to tattered curtains then hovered about the room in a wavering haze. A
crinkled old woman sat bunched in a chair, dressed in flowing robes of purple. Her smile
deepened, eyes nearly lost in a maze of wrinkles. She pointed upward, speaking, "You will
travel to the stars."
 Circling the old crone, a flock of blue-black sparrows carried bloody shreds of raw meat
in their beaks. The birds dipped and turned, some flying straight at Kate only to turn away
at the last moment. Their raucous cawing split the air with a thunderous cacophony. Kate
cringed, burying her face into her hands. Sweat poured down her face as she struggled to
breathe the sulphurous air. The old crone continued, "That which has gone before will not
come again."

The room tilted. Sitting in a cane-backed chair, Kate uncovered her face and gripped the
arm rests. Her fingernails dug into the chair’s wooden sides as she desperately tried to
steady herself. Encircled by four stark white walls, the ceiling opened, revealing a starry
night overhead. The old woman vanished and Kate found herself shivering, naked and
alone, kneeling atop a precipice on Thunder Mountain. She was surrounded by midnight
skies, dark and forbidding, dotted with jagged white stars. Her lungs heaved as she drew
in a breath of fresh air. Tears streamed down her face as she sobbed uncontrollably.

Let me go! Kate screamed silently between lungfuls of air. She tried to break the bonds
that held her. Her arms and legs were leaden, melded into the rock outcropping, and heavy
as sin. Her neck, suddenly wrenched by an invisible force, was pulled backwards and she
was forced to look toward the night sky, her eyes drawn to the canopy above. In agonizing
slowness, she drifted toward the heavens, pulled by a force beyond her control.

The old crone appeared next to her. She smiled then winked. "The stars, my dear. Look to
the stars."

Terrified, Kate snapped awake, heart pounding in fear. She rolled off the couch and onto
the floor. She sat up; sweat dripping onto white Berber carpeting. Shuddering with horror,
she took a deep breath. A preternatural shiver forced her to her feet.

What the hell’s wrong with me? Kate wondered anxiously as she glanced around the
living room. The sun, casting shadows on the warm coffee-colored walls told her it was
late afternoon. Ryan would be home soon. She checked her watch. Damn, she thought as
she steadied her shaking legs, it’s nearly 3:30!
 Hot and uncomfortable, she wiped her face with her hands then moved to adjust the
thermostat of the air conditioner. The cool breeze wafting down from the ceiling vents
comforted her, and she turned, making her way toward the kitchen. The front door banged
open, startling her.

"Hey, Mom! I'm home.” Ryan shouted from the entryway.

Kate heard the drop of his book bag on the flag stone entry and the front door slam shut
behind him. "I'm back here. In the kitchen." She grabbed a blue plastic tumbler and quickly
filled it with water, drinking it in one long gulp. She shook her head, dabbed some water
on her face and practiced a quick smile.

Ryan Kelly made his way over to his mother, his Nike tennis shoes squishing across the
Italian marble floor. Before stopping to say hello, he pulled open the refrigerator door,
searching for something to eat. "I thought you were going shopping?" he asked, his face
red from the afternoon heat.

Kate smiled, feeling guilty. "I was, but I fell asleep."

"Geese, Mom. I'm hungry!" His dark hair, glinting with red highlights, fell forward onto
his forehead as he closed the refrigerator door. "What's for dinner?" His tennis shoes were
untied, the laces straggling across the floor.

"Salsa chicken." Three times, she thought miserably. Three times this week I’ve had the
same nightmare. And how many over the last month?I can’t sleep at night and now I can’t
sleep during the day.

"Great," Ryan complained sarcastically. "My favorite."

Exhausted, Kate leaned against the kitchen counter watching her son. At thirteen Ryan
was almost as tall as she. His bright blue eyes stopped somewhere around her shoulders,
his mop of auburn hair around her chin. Tears sprang to her eyes and she reached out and
hugged him, saying, "I love you, you know." It’s just the move, she thought grimly. That’s
all.
 "Uh, yeah, sure,” Ryan replied, pulling away. He sat down at the kitchen table, tossing his
backpack on the whitewashed oak table. "What’s up?” he asked.

“Not much.” Kate grabbed a couple of soda glasses from the cupboard and added some
ice from the refrigerator. She opened a liter of Coke and offered some to Ryan.

Ryan, sensitive to his mother’s moods, got up and poured himself a glass of soda, then
settled himself back on a chair. He unzipped his backpack and drew out a few papers. "You
still don’t like it here do you?" he asked.

Kate grinned, then lied. "Oh, it's all right. It just takes some getting used to."

Ryan looked up. "Do you miss Grandma?"

Kate nodded. "That and a lot of other things.” Memories abounded, the salt air, the low
echo of the foghorn in the early morning. The twinkling lights of Oakland and Berkeley
that had been her constant companions during long night vigils were now replaced by the
deep blackness of the desert night. Sedona was beautiful she admitted, but lately she would
hear the words of the old crone ring in her ear as she gazed at the midnight sky. "You will
travel to the stars."

"Mom?” Ryan said, searching her eyes. "Are you OK?"

Kate blinked. "Sure. I'm fine. Just a little lonely, I guess.” She smiled softly. "Thanks for
asking.” The phone rang sharply in the stillness. Moving quickly, she reached for the
receiver. "Hello?"

Jason's deep baritone voice answered. "Hi, Kate. It's me."

Kate groaned inwardly. “Don’t tell me. You're going to be late again."

Jason hesitated before answering. "How did you guess?"

Sarcastically, Kate quipped, "Maybe because you're hardly ever home and when you do
come home Ryan and I are in bed.”
 "I'm sorry," Jason said, sounding offended. "But we're in the middle of shoring up the ball
court and one of the walls is threatening to fail."

"Yeah, sure,” Kate said irritably. “Sometimes I think you love the Anasazi more than me."
She knew she sounded childish, but she couldn’t help it. Ever since he had given up his
tenure and opted for the protracted dig, her feelings of resentment had grown. Now, she
had no choice but to give them voice or go stark raving mad. Instead of her husband
responding with a resounding no, there was dead silence on the phone. "Jason?” she said.
"Are you there?"

"I'm here, Kate."

Forcing the knot in her stomach to uncoil she said, "I, uh, take it you'll be awhile?"

Jason hesitated, he was reluctant to start an argument. He said, "I'll get home as soon as I
can."

"OK," Kate answered, already angry with herself for being so childish. She put a
determined smile into her voice. “I was going to make chicken but if you’re not going to be
home, Ryan and I can get a pizza in town."

Jason's voice brightened. "That sounds good. If nothing else it will get you out of the
house."

"I’m sure it will.” Kate said as she hung up the phone. She didn’t bother to say good-bye.
She looked at her son. "Your father’s not coming home for dinner. How does pizza sound?"

Ryan's schoolbooks sat strewn about the kitchen table like so much clutter. Never one to
waste a moment, he was halfway though his first page of homework, eyes brimming with
energy. "Terrific! Can we go now?"

Kate glanced at her watch. It was almost four. She’d skipped lunch and was hungry. "Oh,"
she said. "Why not." Grabbing her keys off the countertop, she ruffled the top of her son's
head, picked up her purse, and headed out of the kitchen. Unfortunately, the cool
refrigerated air stopped at the door to the garage. She shrank back as the oppressive heat
hit her in the face like a lead shield – reminding her of her nightmare.

"C'mon, Mom,” Ryan said, noting her discomfort. "You're never going to get used to it if
you don't go outside.” He gently pushed her as an encouragement.

"I'm going,” Kate said rather harshly. She didn't like the way the hot arid air closed in
around her, threatening to cut off her breath. She took a tentative step forward. The heat
clung to her like a second skin. She felt sweat breakout on her forehead and under her
arms, then she headed toward the car.

The bright light of sun mixed with the colors of the earth giving the air an almost golden
sheen. Kate could see dust motes frolicking in the air. Though the sky was a clear blue
above the town, a hazy reddish film from the comet Eros floated around Thunder
Mountain. She pulled the Lexus into the parking lot of Round Table Pizza and as she got
out of the car, remembered she hadn’t changed her clothes.

Here and there a glance of appreciative beauty followed her as she and Ryan crossed the
parking lot. She tugged unsuccessfully at her shorts, trying to pull them lower and wrapped
her arms around her midriff hoping to disguise her tummy and the diamond stud pierced
into her naval. Embarrassed, she wished she had taken the time to change. Her introverted
personality at times made her beauty a hardship and she found it difficult to return a smile,
not knowing whether it was one of friendliness or a quick come on.

At five foot seven and one hundred and twenty pounds, Kate's ash blonde hair framed a
face of almost ethereal perfection. Her light blue eyes, rimmed in darker blue, were
striking when looked at straight on. More than once she was asked if they were her true
color or were contacts designed to startle. She walked into the dark coolness of the parlor,
Ryan trailing behind. Glancing at a grease-streaked menu hanging crookedly on the wall,
the smell of oily sausage nearly over-powered her.

Ryan walked up next to her and studied the choices. "How about a large with
everything?” he finally asked.
 "Think you can eat that much?”

Ryan grinned. "And then some."

Kate placed the order. After picking up the ticket she headed toward the back of the
parlor. She found the dark coolness refreshing as her eyes washed over her son. Dressed in
jeans and T-shirt he looked like a typical teenager. He had the beginnings of his dad's
hawk-shaped nose and his fine full lips resembled her own. Her heart overflowed, struck as
she was by the hardship she was sure the move had inflicted on him. Starting his first year
of high school alone and without friends was sure to be a life changing experience.

“So,” Kate said suddenly. “How's it going?”

Ryan's eyes brightened. "OK. I met this guy that lives down the street from us.

Kate’s eyes twinkled. “What about girls?”

“Oh, Mom…”

The door to the pizza parlor opened and in walked a young man dressed in nothing more
than swimming trunks and flip-flops. A mop of curly red hair adorned his head, while
freckles spotted his sun-reddened nose. Ryan appeared nervous, and after a cursory glance,
looked down at the table and appeared to ignore him.

"What's wrong?” Kate asked.

"Nothing. That's the kid I met in school."

"Why don't you invite him over?"

Ryan gritted his teeth, the muscular lines at his jaw showing just how hard.

Kate recognized his uneasiness. Soon it didn't matter, for the boy walked purposely over
to the table as soon as he saw the two of them. Ryan stood nervously, introducing his
friend.
 "Mom,” he said. "This is Marc Jacowlski."

"Nice to meet you," Kate said.

"Nice to meet you too.” The boy’s attention turned quickly to Ryan. "Can you come over
to my house after pizza?"

Ryan glanced pleadingly over at his mother. “He lives two houses down from us.”

A quick flicker of disquiet crossed Kate's face, but was soon dismissed as she nodded her
head in confirmation. "Sure you can."

"Great!” Ryan said. He turned to Marc. "I'll be over in about an hour.” He looked to his
mother for approval.

Kate shrugged. "Just be in by eight, Ryan. You've got school tomorrow and homework to
finish."

Mark smiled, a charming lopsided grin. "Thanks. I'll see you after 'while."

"Sure,” Ryan answered.

It pleased Kate to see her admonishment to be home early gone unchallenged.

"Thanks, Mom,” Ryan said. “I appreciate it. You're sure you don't mind.”

Their order called, Kate rose from the table. "No. After all, a boy your age shouldn't have
to hang out with his mother."

Ryan glanced up at Kate, thinking how sad it was she didn't smile like she used to. It was
a strange feeling, but he felt sorry for her. Clearly, she wasn't happy. “I don't mind,” he
said, trying to reassure her. “I like being with you.”
 Kate grinned. "I like being with you, too. But it's all right. I'll be fine.” She saw the
hesitation on his face and realized that her abhorrence to the move from San Francisco to
Sedona had certainly affected her son. "I promise."

Beaming with relief, Ryan picked up the pizza and headed toward the car. The sun was
setting behind Thunder Mountain as Kate turned into the driveway. The vivid sky was
turning a darker blue that accentuated the picturesque rock. Tall and craggy the mountain
sat over the town as if hiding a multitude of mysteries behind its shattered face. Orange
and bloated the comet Eros kept watch over the mountain. Kate trembled as she stared at it,
for a moment possessed by the sight. The royal blue deepened into a darker twilight and
the first stars appeared above the peak of Thunder Mountain. As she waited for the
automatic garage door to open she heard night birds singing and the sound of the wind
through the trees.

She pulled the car into the garage as a cooler breeze followed its wake. Ryan grabbed the
pizza and was in the kitchen before she'd picked up her purse. Sighing, she pocketed her
keys, got out of the car, and joined him. As soon as dinner was finished, Ryan was up and
out of his seat. "I'll be back before eight," he shouted, making his way out the front door.

Kate dumped the last of the pizza onto a plate for Jason. The sorry mess looked
unappetizing as she picked up a dangling strip of cheese and dropped it into her mouth.
Wiping her hands on the kitchen towel, she glanced upwards, in the general direction of the
den and gave herself a mental nudge.

Dropping the dishcloth onto the counter, she smoothed back her hair, rapidly bound it up
with a rubber band, and headed for the den and her computer. The sound of her steps
against the wood of the staircase sounded hollow. Everything was so quiet in the desert that
even the ceaseless roar of the freeway was missed. The absence of sound was abrasive,
unsettling her nerves, and she wondered if that was the reason for her lack of work. She
had two articles due for a magazine and though she’d been kicking around the idea of a
novel – she hadn’t put to paper a single word.
 She turned into the den. Marked and scarred by years of abuse the old desk sat at the base
of a picture glass window overlooking the desert. She gazed out the window, mentally
preparing herself for the comet, the miserable interloper who had stolen her night sky. She
tilted her head, for a moment confused. She leaned over and scratched the window. Funny,
she thought. There’s no reflection. Generally, the light from the Venetian lamp reflected
solidly in the window. Stranger still, the comet that hovered over Thunder Mountain was
gone, leaving an ominous dark desert presence.

She turned off the lamp. Where are the stars? she wondered. For God's sake, she thought
realizing what else was missing. Where is Thunder Mountain? Seconds later, a glistening
orb appeared in the twilight, directly under the sudden reappearance of the comet. Her
heart started to pound and a light sweat broke out on her forehead. What the hell is that?
she wondered.

She blinked. The orb continued to hang like a swollen Christmas ornament dropping from
the sky. Then, out of nowhere, several smaller multicolored lights twinkled in a profusion
of frolicking pinpoints around the mother orb. Mesmerized, she watched the display for
several minutes when, suddenly, there was a vivid flash. On reflex, she rubbed her eyes
furiously until pinpoints of light reflected against her lids. She opened her eyes, giving
them a chance to readjust to the moonlight. Appearing just over the head of the mountain a
triangular mass began to take shape. It drifted slowly, coming over the craggy top of
Thunder Mountain, blotting out the comet. It was huge, she thought, trying to estimate the
size. Gigantic. And more frightening than anything she'd ever seen in her life.

She turned, running out of the room. She fled down the stairs and into the nght as if the
gates of hell had opened behind her. From here, on the lawn, the apparition continued to
roll silently overhead. Then, in a twinkling of an eye, the strange craft shifted position and
vanished. Everything returned to normal. The comet was where it should be, the mountain
strong and silent against the light.

A small cloud drifted over-head blocking the moon. Turning, she hurried back up to the
den. Hastening over to the window she assured herself of the sky's normalcy then quickly
shut the blinds. She shivered again and rubbed her hands together to try and warm them.
What do I do now? she wondered. Call the Air Force, the police?

Flopping onto a worn brown leather armchair, she stared out the window. She put her feet
on the matching ottoman and wiggled her toes nervously. Was it possible, she thought. An
unidentified flying object in her own front yard? Then, suddenly, she thought, where’s
Ryan? Her heart skipped a beat and her hands began to tremble. Almost immediately, her
cell phone rang and she dug it out of her pants pocket. "Hello?"

"Mom,” Ryan cried. "Did you see it?"

Kate replied carefully, “I saw something.” She could hear him yelling at Marc. “She saw
it. She saw it!”

"I think you should come home now, Rye.”

"Aw, gee, Mom. Just another few minutes?"

"Now, Ryan. Not a second later." Kate hung up and put the phone down on the armrest.
She got out of the chair, and began to pace. She studied the worn braided rug that lay atop
the bamboo hardwood floor. The grid made a comfortable walking pattern as long as she
skirted the desk. She followed it as far as she could. Then thought, a UFO? She retraced
her steps.

The slam of the front door brought Kate out of her reverie. Expecting Ryan, she was
surprised to hear Jason. "I'm up here, in the den!" she shouted. She moved quickly to her
computer and opened Microsoft Word. She sat down and started to write about what she
had seen.

The familiar sound of Jason's boots pounded up the stairs. He rounded the corner into the
den. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"I saw something, Jason. In the sky.” she said. “And I want to get it down on paper before
I forget it.”
 "What did you see?"

She paused for a moment. “It was outside. Just a little while ago. It crossed over the top
of Thunder Mountain. And it was big. And there was this other thing - this round blinky
object that just hung in the sky."

Jason shuffled his feet and looked on with dismay at the dirt and grime he’d left on the
rug. “Ah, Kate?” he said.

“Umm, what?”

"I’m sure you saw an illusion. Probably created by airplanes and that damn comet.”

“I don’t think so.” Kate paused in her typing. Wasn’t the larger ship shaped like a
triangle?

“Well it certainly wasn’t a flying saucer.”

"I didn’t say it was a flying saucer, but it wasn’t an airplane either or a jet. I’ve never seen
anything like it." Kate thought a moment. “I think it must be some kind of military aircraft
– at least I hope so.”

Jason paused, studying his wife's face. She was intent upon writing, ignoring him. "Kate.
Cut the crap."

Piqued, Kate glanced up. "It’s not crap. And Ryan saw it too so don't say it’s my
imagination.” She finished the outline, saved the file, and turned off the computer. "Quit
being such a bully. C'mon downstairs and I'll heat up the pizza and tell you about it."

Irritated, Jason followed his wife down the stairs. He thought; I don’t have time for this
Kate. I’m tired, dirty, and hungry. I just want to eat, take a bath, and go to bed. And not
necessarily in that order.

With that, the front door slammed open. Ryan met Kate and Jason at the foot of the stairs.
Ryan’s eyes sparkled. "Did you see it, Dad?"
 Jason sighed. "What, son?"

"The alien aircraft!"

"I repeat. There's no such thing as UFOs and no such thing as aliens."

"Dad, it was real! Me and Marc were in his backyard and there it was, sure as shit."

Jason’s face darkened. "Watch your mouth."

Ryan shut up immediately. The light in his eyes, dying.

"Okay, okay,” Kate said, intervening. "No arguments." She turned to Jason. "Why would
we make up something like that?"

"There's no such thing, Kathryn. That’s it, period.”

"But…"

Jason mumbled under his breath.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. Before you know it, you'll have the child convinced of every damn conspiracy
theory on the planet."

Kate stepped back, puzzled by his reaction. "What are you talking about?"

Jason was exhausted and his temper got the better of him. "Kate, I've lived with crazy
religious fanatics and just plain nuts for the last twenty years in San Francisco. Personally,
I don't care what you think you saw but it sure as hell wasn't alien spacecraft." Jason
turned, making his way back up the stairs. Kate started to follow but he waved her back.
"Leave it, Kate. I don't want to discuss it. I've got a ton of worries on my mind as it is.”

“But…” Kate stammered as he walked up the stairs. She thought, I didn’t say it was alien
aircraft. I just said I saw something! And, what the hell does that have to do with religion?
 "What's with Dad?” Ryan asked.

Kate shrugged, disheartened by Jason’s outburst. She said, “Oh. I don’t know. Let it go
for now, Rye." She finished, "Your Dad has a lot on his mind."

"But, Mom! It was a UFO. I saw it!"

Kate sighed. She thought back to the size of the craft, the lights, and the incredible
silence. She said, “It’s late and you need to finish your homework. Go on up to bed. We'll
talk about it in the morning."

"Whatever," Ryan groaned as he gathered his backpack from the kitchen table. As he
headed up the stairs, he added, "But you'll see, me and Marc will get some great pictures
next time."

Frustrated, Kate headed into the kitchen for a warm glass of milk and a cookie. She sat
down at the kitchen table and flicked on the liquid crystal television embedded within the
refrigerator door. What am I going to do, she wondered. I can’t even talk to Jason
anymore. And when I do talk to him he’s so distant, so argumentative. A small tear slipped
down the side of her face and she brushed it off.

Flipping through the channels, she settled on an old rerun of Murder She Wrote. But, no
matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop obsessing on the bizarre object that flew as
silently as a glider and was as agile as a bird. After an hour or so of television, she thought
of heading up to the computer to do a little Googling, then decided to go to bed. She said
goodnight to Angela Lansbury, took a non-prescription sleeping pill out of a bottle in the
cupboard by the sink, swallowed it with half a can of diet Pepsi, and headed upstairs.