Fear and Aggression (25 page)

“
Is there anything that I
can get for you, or do for you, Roloff?”

“
No. We are making
do.”

“
Prianna wanted me to ask
you and Caryell to come over for dinner tonight.”

“
She is so kind. You both
are. Caryell will be staying with a friend tonight. I will be going
on a walk. I need some time alone. I appreciate all that you and
the great people here have done for me—the meals, the friendship,
the company, all of the search teams—especially the prayers. I can
feel the love and support. But tonight I need to be alone. I may be
back very late. Please tell Prianna how much I do appreciate
her.”

“
I will. If you change
your mind, we will set out an extra plate. Prianna loves Aspiria
very much; we both do. She would do anything for her. If we can be
of service to you and Caryell, please don’t hesitate to ask. How is
Caryell doing?”

Roloff bowed and shook his
head. “He’s a strength to me. I know that he thinks it’s his
fault…it is
not
his fault. He just misses her so much. If he had been with
her, they may both be gone. He is doing better, though. He has not
lost faith. I know that he carries out his own
searches.”

Seryen bade his friend farewell.

Roloff sat in silent contemplation. His hurt
had not lessened at all. He missed his wife deeply. The pain was so
strong, that sometimes he felt numbness come over him. Today he
felt numb. He had barely left the house, except to go on searches.
He attended church, and went to various members of the community
when invited for meals. He had not gone on a walk, a real walk,
since the time he had gone to the hill with Aspiria. Tonight he
wanted to go up there alone. He needed to reflect, to pray, and
perhaps to cry. It was good for Caryell to be with friends. They
made his life seem normal. Roloff tried to show Caryell strength,
but it was forced, and Caryell could see through it. Roloff felt
that Caryell was being brought down by him. Tonight, perhaps, he
could just be a boy.

After some time, Roloff set off on his
lonely walk. The joys that he usually felt on his walks would not
come to him. Still, he plodded along. Perhaps at least some of that
peace would come with time. He felt more tired than he usually did.
His physical strength and endurance had weakened. He was not the
presence that he had once been, such a short time ago. The hole in
his life that Aspiria had filled was bigger than even he could have
imagined. His longing increased as he walked along. Momentarily, he
reconsidered his journey that evening. Perhaps he was not up to it,
physically or emotionally. No, he would go forward. He would only
feel worse going back home to an empty house. The sun was setting
earlier now, and to him the blanket of darkness was a comfort. He
could avoid looking at himself in his mind’s eye.

The air was not quite chilly, but a quick
breeze caused him to shudder. He wandered along the path, and began
to see the silhouette of the hill in the distance. He shuddered
again, but this time from his bitter sweet memories. He never went
to the hill alone anymore. He always had his choice companion by
his side. A brief but unrealistic hope, perhaps a fantasy, allowed
him to consider that she would be up there. He would find her
there. She was fine, and all was well again. The thoughts
brightened his mood momentarily, but then the ridiculousness of
them brought a greater sickening to his already dreadful mood.
Still, she was there. She would always be there. Some of his
choicest moments with her were spent on that hill, and she would
always be there.

As he reached the top of
the hill, he could see the bright lights of the city off in the
distance. The air had now become chilly, and another small breeze
could be felt. The coolness of the air and the darkness of the
night helped him feel more alive, and less numb.
I’m so glad that she got to see this
view
, he thought, or perhaps even said out
loud. He gazed for a long time, folding his arms around his chest
both to offer some protection from the chill, and to comfort
himself.

His eyes caught hold of a vision of her. It
was their last time together. He could see her eyes, her hair, and
her smile. Even the vision could not match her real beauty, though.
He began to hear her voice as she sweetly sang. He could almost
feel her touch as he danced with her in his mind. It was so real,
and so memorable. It was his last significant memory with her. He
began to shudder more, and the cool air was only the catalyst.
Roloff never cried. But tonight he did. He did not hold back, and
he did not want to hold back. He began to cry harder and harder. It
was a strange sensation to him. At first it made his hurt increase.
The more he cried, the worse he felt and the harder he cried. He
felt like he was digging himself into an emotional hole that he
would never have the power to be uplifted from. The bottom was
reached, however, and eventually he felt with bitterness some
relief from his sting. He felt angry at the bit of comfort he felt.
These tears were doing nothing for her, so why should he feel any
better? At least his eyes burned, and his head ached. At least the
crying brought some physical pain to make up for the emotional
relief.

He had never prayed so much in his life,
since the moment he first learned of Aspiria’s disappearance. He
saw manifestation after manifestation of the prayers being
answered. The help of the community was even more than he would
have imagined. But the one prayer; the singular prayer: that
Aspiria was well—he had not received the answer to. Yes, he wanted
her back, but more than anything he wanted her to be well. He
needed to know: is she alive?—is she safe? He kneeled down, and
prayed vocally for a time. He did not feel that the words of his
prayer were ascending on high. He felt that they were somehow
tethered to him and that the further that he cast them, the harder
they came back at him and hit him. He felt no peace, no
reassurance, and no hope. But he continued to pray. The
vocalization slowly became a whisper, and then he only mouthed the
words. Monumental minutes passed by. He became aware that his
prayer was bringing a soothing sensation to his being. He wanted to
fight this, but could not. He was feeling soothed. He did not know
if he was feeling God’s love for him, or if he was being given a
reassurance; he prayed on. He felt a touch of eloquence to the
words of his prayer, and he felt that his thoughts were being
guided. This strengthened him and his resolve as he prayed. For the
first time since Aspiria was gone, he felt connected with heaven.
Gratitude began to fill his being. The hole that was in him, that
was an open wound, was being given balm. The healing was not
complete, but it was beginning. God loved him, this much he knew.
But he still did not know if his dear Aspiria was well.

Throughout the prayer, the
words were only traveling in one direction; they were emanating
from him. The communication that he was receiving was spiritual
comfort only. But, he was interrupted. Words were addressed to him.
What were they? He quieted his mind, “Open your eyes.” It was soft;
did he hear it or feel it? Then again, “Open your eyes.” He opened
his eyes without closing his prayer. They were blurry from the
tears, and from them being closed so tight. Then he saw it: the
star—the shooting star again. What was this?—a sign? He blinked and
continued to look on. That can’t be a shooting star. It is still
crossing the sky. Then a feeling came over him.
Aspiria! She’s there!
The feeling
overcame him. His mind was the clearest it had been in weeks. His
heart began to race. He felt a spiritual assurance.
She’s alive! She’s in that light racing across
the sky.
He knew in his heart this truth,
as much as he knew that he was alive.

He watched until the light
disappeared, and a pang entered his heart that was swelling. Still,
his heart burned. He felt hope, excitement, wonderment, and
amazement all building within him. As he continued to gaze at the
sky, the how and the why began to plague him
. It’s a vessel of some sort. It’s been there for a while;
Aspiria and I saw it the last time we were here. It was only a few
days after we first saw it that she was taken
. The clarity of his mind was in overdrive.
All of the tracks led to and from that hard rocky
clearing. What if this vessel had landed on that spot? There were
some strange tracks that could have been from a vessel of some
sort. It would explain how everything seemed to emanate and
disappear from that spot. Whoever is on that vessel could have
landed, taken my Aspiria, and then gone back to encircling this
planet. They were here before, they are here now. I know that
Aspiria is there! Yes, they were going to take the deer, but then
she came over. Maybe when they drugged her, they were afraid to
leave her. Whatever the reason, I know where my Aspiria is. She is
alive, I can feel it!
Hope and
understanding filled his breast. He bowed his head and uttered
these words: “I thank thee; I thank thee with all my heart. I thank
thee; please let me know what to do now.”

His strength had returned.
He did not feel any fatigue or any fear. He felt excitement and
joy. At first he wanted to broadcast his enlightenment to the
world. He nearly ran, but realized that the town would be sleeping;
there was nothing that he could do about all of this tonight.
Eventually he settled into a brisk walk. The reality of the
situation began to condensate upon him.
Who has such a vessel?
His world was
fairly primitive. The city to which he had looked over this evening
was the only place in the world that currently had electrical
power—there, and the few towns near it, like his own.
We don’t have the power or understanding to send
a craft into space. This world does not possess that capacity.
These must be travelers from another world.
They were men—that much was sure; he could tell just from the
footprints.
But they must be men from
another world. Why are they here? What do they want with us? What
do they want with Aspiria? Why won’t they bring her back now? I’m
sure the drug has worn off. They are still here though, and they
have not traveled back to their world.
That much was certain. There was plenty of hope.

But how will we contact
them? How do we communicate with them? If they need to have someone
from our world with them, they can have me. They need to bring
Aspiria back; I will take her place if I must.
A feeling a dread began to enter his heart.
They have not mistreated her! They would not hurt
her, would they? Perhaps they are from
that
world! It’s impossible to know
what the men of
that
world would do. After all, look at what they did to God’s
Son—they killed Him.
Of all the men in the
universe, only the men from that world scared Roloff. There were
good men from that world, too.
Oh, I hope
that they are not from that world!
His
mind began to be a blizzard. It had been filled with such clarity,
but now the excitement, the relief, followed by the dread, and the
concern, gave him an overwhelming confusion.

Still, he trudged along at a quick pace. How
would he contact them? What were his next moves? Should he go home
and sleep, or go to Seryen? What proof did he have? Would the
people think that he was crazy, or incapacitated? His home came
into view, and he slowed his pace. What should he do? He couldn’t
sleep, but he didn’t know what else to do. He needed rest. Perhaps
the morning would bring a new perspective, and additional clarity
of thought. He was given the knowledge that he had. Additional
inspiration might come soon. There was nothing that he could do
tonight. He would rest. He would let Caryell rest. Tomorrow’s dawn
would truly be a new day. Aspiria was alive, and he had seen where
she was. He knew something about her whereabouts, and that was
everything in the world to him now.

“
Did you start the book
yet?” asked Tess.

“
No, did you?” Mark
replied

“
Yeah, it’s funny; the
aliens are from Mars.”

“
Mars? That’s almost as
bad as having aliens from the moon.”

“
My Dad says that in those
days they thought that the only planets were the ones around the
sun. They didn’t think that the other stars had planets. So, if
there were going to be aliens they would have to be from planets
like Mars and Venus.”

“
Oh. So why are we reading
it, then?

“
Would you rather read
Space Patrol comics for English?” she asked ironically, and gave
him a sarcastic look. She was wearing a pink sweater today. Mark
thought pink was a good color for her.

“
Yeah!”

“
Anyways, my Dad says that
in those days they didn’t think that anything could travel from one
star to another. So if they wanted to have an alien book, I guess
they would have to be from Mars.”

“
Do you like the
book?”

“
It’s okay. You need to
read it…so we can talk about it. My mom says that when you talk
about a book with someone else that’s reading it, that it helps you
understand it better.”

The conversation was becoming bitter-sweet.
He loved the idea that Tess wanted to talk with him about the book.
But he was feeling a little sad hearing all of this ‘Dad says’ and
‘Mom says’ business. Gramps never said anything, except about what
was on TV, and he didn’t like being reminded that he didn’t have
Mom and Dad around to talk to.