WATCHING CORONA: From Our Dimension to Yours Read online

  Irma shook her head back and forth.

  “We’ve had our share of tragedy and disappointment in this family, Hale,” she said. “Linda and John could have no more children after Grace was born. And then their lives were lost in the boating accident. You and I were unable to conceive. Even your mother had her own difficulties. When will it end?”

  “I don’t know, but I know we’re strong and we’ll get through this,” Hale said. “When Mother died giving birth to Linda, I thought Daddy was going to fall apart. I never witnessed a man with more sorrow. Because of having Linda and me to raise, he picked up the pieces and moved on. While we missed having a Mom, Dad did a great job keeping us together. When I’d ask him why he never remarried, he said he felt as if Mom never went away. As if she was still somewhere waiting for him.” Hale’s eyes misted.

  “You never told me that,” Irma said. “I’m not surprised he felt as if she was still with him. I remember him missing her up until he passed away.”

  The couple talked for hours about Grace’s future and decided to support her through what they believed would be harsh and troubling times. They would let her and the baby live with them if that’s what she wanted, and care for the child when needed.

  “Let’s talk more about it after we’ve had a good night’s rest,” Irma said.

  As usual, Hale and Irma slept soundly, unaware of the nighttime events that were occurring within their home.

  Chapter Five

  Grace’s rest was troubled. Her dreams roiled with recurring familiar images and dialogue to which she contributed. She pictured her parents lounging on their sailboat the afternoon of the accident. She could see her beautiful mother, taking hours off from the flower shop she owned, stretched out in a one-piece black swimsuit. Her father was setting a course on the calm waters so he could join his wife. With photography as a hobby, camera equipment was ever-ready for pictures of birds and fishes when something interesting flew or swam by.

  In Grace’s REM sequences, her forever-youthful parents’ faces appeared, dissolved, and reappeared, troubling their daughter with clear, then distorted images of the couple. Sometimes she envisioned them on the sailboat, looking skyward as if transfixed on some ethereal event. Its usual finale was her unsmiling father folding his arms across his chest. Grace witnessed him disappearing, followed by her mother doing the same. The parental dream continued with them trapped in cages, unable to escape. In the final scene, there was nothing but a vacant boat eerily still as its anchor clung to the floor of the watery depths.

  Tonight, as in other nights, the scene dissolved as if washed away by the spray from a light summer rain. Grace perceived herself awake although she was sure she was asleep. Lying stiffly under the covers, her attention was focused on something or someone who had intruded into her room.

  The scent of lilies heralded the arrival of a force, the strength of which she had first come to experience on the night of her parent’s demise. The young woman could pinpoint the flower’s species by its sweet Candidum perfume known as Madonna Lily. Sometimes it was Formosanum or one of the others, all of which were cultivated in Grace’s garden. Tonight it was the seductive Candidum. The scent wafted malignantly across the room to her nostrils until recognition of what was to follow precipitated a conditioned response, an anxious reaction in her core.

  Instantly, Grace was able to control only her head and eyes, her muscles rigid and taut. Her nervous system was alive with electric impulses, and her cognition intact, but she remained immobile. In the darkness, she tracked the vivid Madonna Lily scent to the corner of the room near a window. She sensed it flowing on currents toward the left and then to the right side of her. She rotated her head slowly back and forth, left to right, right to left, until her eyes adjusted to the darkened room and the outline of her visitors became visible.

  The creatures were short with human-sized heads. Each wore a one-piece, long shift.

  To Grace, they resembled alien sightings she’d seen documented on television programs, although there were differences. These beings had eyebands that wrapped across their foreheads instead of the normal two eyes like humans. From their many visits over the years, Grace was able to discern what she believed to be slight variations in their looks from one to another such as humans perceive amongst themselves. Right or wrong, she identified what she thought to be the genders of females and males, the former seemingly taking the leadership role.

  The females were slightly taller than the males, with larger eyebands, edgier in mannerisms, and exercising obvious rank over their male counterparts. Their movements were more graceful and flowing while the males seemed less so. The females’ skin was more moist and softer than the males and they were rougher when they handled Grace or her belongings. They were forceful without harming her. Grace’s anxiety heightened as she recognized the creatures tonight as females.

  Having seen what she thought were the same beings over the years, Grace had given them nicknames according to how they looked and acted; names the creatures themselves had acknowledged as close translations of their given names.

  Tonight, her visitors, one on either side of her bed, were females which Grace had given the names Flora and Fancy - names they accepted from her as their own.

  Flora was the most comely one Grace had seen, if one could label the beings that way. Grace thought perhaps the physical changes she’d noticed in them were because of an aging process they went through. The more aged of the group seem to come only a few times over the years and were no longer in attendance as time went on.

  Flora’s facial features were perfectly spaced with flawless skin. Her demeanor was disturbing. She stood on Grace’s left side, her large eyeband watching Grace watch back. Light illuminated from the core of the organ, becoming less brilliant as it reached the outer edges. The azure color was as soft as a southern summer sky. The blue became darker or lighter in response to inner emotions as Flora groped objects or communicated with her companion.

  To Grace, the background glow of their bands seemed to function like tapetum lucidum does in animals, gathering and reflecting light from its surroundings without illuminating the outside space.

  Flora’s skin, when it touched hers, was buttery soft as expensive worn leather. It belied the rough, exaggerated handling of her spidery fingers with their grooves and ridges.

  Fancy’s eyeband was of a pinkish hue. She was shorter than Flora, while still taller than the males. Her skin was as soft as the others, moist, although flawed with some wart-like lesions on her arms and face.

  Occasionally, something wiggled inside the warts which disgusted and frightened Grace.

  Fancy leaned over the bed, looking deep into the young woman’s blue eyes, commanding Grace’s attention and respect. The scent of digesting, fermenting lilies was overpowering from the slit functioning as Fancy’s mouth. The being squinted as if trying to discern what their captive was thinking.

  Grace received the unspoken message that her visitors would not be staying long. The words were more informative than comforting and came to Grace in familiar language and sentence structure. She wondered how they did that.

  Fancy communicated that it was a characteristic of all her kind.

  Grace realized they could read her mind. It frightened her since she could not read theirs.

  “You’re wondering where Sunni is, aren’t you?” Flora said.

  “Yes, I haven’t seen him for awhile and I’m concerned about what happened to him.”

  “Nothing for you to worry about,” Flora answered. “He’s off doing something for someone else. We’re waiting to hear from him and then he’ll rejoin us.”

  Grace smiled and nodded. “He was always nice to me.”

  Flora sent a communication to Fancy not to mention to Grace that Sunni was sent by the All to do something for the Valers in their dimension, and hasn’t returned.

  While Fancy sniffed and observed the young woman, Flora glided toward the closet where Grace’s parents�
� belongings from their sailboat were kept. She held her hand out in front of her and the door opened slowly, with barely a sound. The being knew exactly what she was looking for, pushing aside some boxes on the floor to peer into the darkness against the back wall. Alarmed at not finding the desired items, she turned to Grace, expecting to learn where they were.

  Grace was oblivious to Flora’s activity. Instead, she was transfixed by Fancy, hypnotized by the serenity of her pinkish band, just inches from her own. The effect of Fancy’s gaze was not unlike that of a predator mesmerizing its unsuspecting prey before pouncing. The creature moved in close to Grace’s slightly parted lips and sniffed her breath.

  It wasn’t anything Flora said or did from the closet area, but more an impression that caused Grace to gradually swivel her gaze. Unbidden by Grace, thoughts of her father’s camera and her mother’s purse and beach towel drifted into her awareness. She pictured the items nestled in a box on the top shelf of the closet where she had moved them earlier.

  Flora sharply turned her head in the direction of the space the items now occupied. Unable to reach the higher spot, she held her hand out and gently moved it back and forth. The box slid slowly to the edge of the shelf on its own accord. Flora cocked her head to the side, held her hand up to the container, and closed her eyes. Satisfied the items were there, she lowered her hand and willed the closet door to close. She drifted back to the left side of Grace’s bed, made swaying hand gestures to Fancy, and turned her gaze to Grace.

  Grace wanted to recoil from the firm touch. She couldn’t. She willed her hands to reach out and push the intruders away. Nothing happened. Both arms remained useless at her sides.

  When Flora briskly pulled the covers off Grace and shoved them down to the bottom of the bed, the young woman’s respirations began to increase and change into a Kussmaul pattern, deep and gasping. Beads of perspiration formed on her forehead. Her skin became damp and clammy. She felt as if she were going to pass out.

  Fancy recognized the change in Grace’s breathing, leaned over and, holding a slim object over Grace’s pons, then medulla, changed the rate to an even 16 breaths per minute. She passed her palm in the air over Grace’s eyes, closing them as one would a sleepy infant.

  Unable to open her eyelids, Grace could see nothing. She felt the touch and movements of the beings as they methodically examined her.

  Flora hastily pulled Grace’s pajama bottoms down, slid them off, and tossed them aside. She leaned forward and rested a slim object on Grace’s thigh, checking the temperature and chemistry of her skin. She unbuttoned Grace’s top and opened it up, exposing her chest.

  Grace felt embarrassed. Though horrified in her deepest recesses, her physical responses to the assault were within normal limits because the beings were overriding her vital signs, adjusting them as needed.

  Fancy again sensed Grace’s anxiety at these actions and gently passed her hand over and across the young woman’s frontal lobe, calming her down.

  Grace sensed a faint current when that happened. To her the action seemed not to be empathic, rather meant to control their subject’s physical and mental well-being as they pursued the exam.

  Grace could feel Flora clutching her arm and pulling off the bandage covering the lesion. She did not see the being pointing to the area for Fancy to look at.

  One of the creatures snorted.

  Flora’s hand rested on Grace’s heart, noting the organ’s steady filling and emptying. She palpated the girl’s abdomen, kneading and prodding with one hand and pushing down with an instrument in the other.

  The embryo in Grace’s womb moved about in response to its being disturbed.

  Grace was thrilled to feel the movement and interpreted it as a sign her baby was doing well.

  Fancy placed her head down near Grace’s navel, listening to the developing child within. She pulled her head back, sure she had heard the unborn child communicating with her. Her pink eyeband darkened and she backed away, motioning for Flora to listen to it.

  The examination was overwhelming for the expectant mother. Despite the creatures’ controlling of her physical responses, Grace was uncomfortable.

  While the nighttime events were occurring, Grace was aware of what was going on and also had total present-time recall of who was there and what they’d done to her in the past.

  As was the usual course of these nocturnal events, the next day, she had occasion to think something had happened to her in the night, but couldn’t remember details.

  Grace awakened, stiff and sore, to the sounds of her alarm clock. I don’t remember setting that. She brought her hand down on the button to shut it off. She rubbed her arms and legs, tight from the tensions of dreams. A faint scent of lilies daintily remained about the room. She noticed she had her pajama bottoms on backwards.

  Grace’s pregnancy progressed normally. She’d scheduled prenatal visits at which time, her physician diagnosed the fetus as healthy and on schedule.

  Within Grace’s womb, the unborn human recognized the doctor’s exam and could control its communication with the outside world, revealing the inner life only to the nighttime visitors. Even then, the little one gave when and what she chose to disclose.

  The last visitation Grace experienced in the night, was the evening before her baby was delivered.

  The female beings appeared in their usual manner, almost as if they entered the room from nowhere.

  Instead of being paralyzed, Grace was able to move.

  When Flora pulled the covers off her swollen stomach, the expectant mother covered her abdominal area with her arms and hands, clasping them in front to protect herself and her unborn child.

  Fancy gestured to Grace to get out of the bed. She tucked her arms under the girl’s calves and slid them to the bedside and off the mattress. Flora roughly helped Grace into a sitting position. The beings handed Grace her bathrobe. They waited for her blood pressure to stabilize as she dangled her legs over the side of the bed. Then, one on either side of her, they walked the uncomfortably pregnant young woman toward the window.

  Grace didn’t want to go, fearing for the little one she was carrying. What were these beings planning for her? She worried her unborn baby may be injured or worse. Regardless of the self-talk, she found herself complying with their requests.

  From behind the curtain, a youthful male creature, one Grace had named Bob-Boy because of his head-bobbing mannerism, beckoned her to come to him. His yellow eyeband gleamed as he held a small dark garment which was waving from the end of his arm.

  Grace strained to see what he was showing her, squinting until the object was able to be viewed. She gasped when a black swimming suit she was sure was her mother’s, bobbed back and forth as did the being’s head, enticing the girl to come forward. Grace advanced forth to see if it was her mother’s shiny one-piece suit. The closer she got, the more sure she was it was genuine. Her mother’s name, “Linda,” was embroidered on the left side. It was hers all right. Grace was positive. She recognized the stitching in yellow floss as something she’d done for her mom.

  When Grace gently touched the garment, Bob-Boy pulled it away, went to the corner of the room and disappeared. He reappeared without the swimming suit.

  The females got Grace’s attention and gestured to her as if they wanted her to try to do something. Fancy demonstrated for Grace by folding her own arms across her chest, and disappearing into a fold which closed behind her.

  Grace strained, wanting to know where Fancy was, but couldn’t see where she’d gone.

  Flora communicated to Grace to do the same as Fancy had done.

  Unsure of what it would accomplish, and frightened she might disappear, Grace moved to the room’s corner and positioned her arms across her chest. She thought about leaving to a parallel world or different universe. Where the thought came from, she didn’t know. She only knew it was foremost in her brain, urging her to leave the bedroom, even though she didn’t want to go.

  Flora’s head leane
d forward and her eyeband burned a bright blue as she studied the young woman, hoping for the same result as Fancy. She watched Grace and read her mind, assured the young woman knew what was expected of her. This is good, Flora thought. Maybe this one will be the one. The Gift.

  Nothing happened.

  Grace felt disappointment resonating from the creatures.

  Her unborn child became restless, moving and pushing tiny feet against her mother’s ribs.

  Grace rubbed her abdomen. She sang softly and sweetly to her little one, who calmed down.

  Fancy reappeared and the two females escorted Grace to a lying position in her bed.

  Grace patted her abdomen to be sure all was okay with the baby girl inside. She felt the fetus moving and cooed to her. When she looked up, the beings were gone.

  In the morning, as usual, Grace recalled nothing. All that remained was a feeling of unresolved drama.

  Chapter Six

  In Situ

  Flora reclined upon her divan, nestled deep into the molecules, semi-conscious for the cleansing and rejuvenation process. The filtering system in the ceiling grid above her was open, accepting rising particles of dirt, skin lubricant and debris, all sloughed off from the being beneath. Methodical repositioning, and rivulets of muscle tension assisted the process. Turning and relaxing, twisting and tensing, Flora continued until she felt the last issue of integumentary waste coaxed from her outer body. Drifting swiftly up and into the filtering system, the refuse was propelled by wafts of energy and air to the Common House for disposal.

  While the external sanitation proceeded, Flora’s thoughts swirled about, editing the Hybrid’s program and considering the future of her homeland, In Situ. There were many details in need of processing. Grace’s Baby Corona will be the breakthrough, permitting a letting go of the others at the Human Camp. I’m sure of it.