Giddeon (Silver Strand Series) (12 page)

Back on
Coronado
, we took Amanda and Brooke out to eat as payment for house-sitting.
 
They wanted Italian food, so we went with them over to Island Pasta and sat outside at the tables on the sidewalk, where we watched tourists flow past.
 
Melody’s friends didn’t know the nature of our
Caribbean
visit, and they thought we had just taken a little mini-vacation because we had found a good deal on the airfare and accommodations.
 
We showed them some pictures of the island, and Giddy in the pool.

“Wow,” said Amanda.
 
“
Hawaii
and
Grand Cayman
in one summer!
 
I’m jealous.”

“It was nice,” said Melody, “but, there’s no place like home.”

“Especially if your home is on
Coronado
,” chimed in Brooke.

They thought we’re rich, and I suppose in a way, we were.
 
However, we didn’t really have a lot of disposable income because most of the money from the songs and the book were tied up in investment vehicles.
 
I watched them all like a hawk… a
carry over
from my penny stock days, I suppose.
 
I’ve gotten pretty good at it, picking stocks, that is… at least I’m a lot better than I was back then.
 
More conservative.
 
Not so willing to take wild gambles, although every now and then, I still do.
 

Sometimes they pay off.

Like that wild gamble of asking Melody for her autograph : )

That one paid off in spades.

“
Nado
!” said Giddy.

We all laughed.

“That’s right,” said Melody, while patting his head and playing with his curls.
 
“
Nado
.”

I suppose even Giddy knows… there’s no place like
Coronado
.

*****

After Amanda and Brooke left, we went back home and finished unpacking.
 
The cats came and sniffed at our proceedings, but for the most part I don’t think they even realized we had been gone.
 
They had food and petting and company during those three days, so their cat needs had all been met.
 
Kind of made me miss Sampson.
 
Don’t get me wrong, I’m a cat person and always will be, but I do find that I have a connection with some dogs.

As a general rule, I like
Labradors
and Golden Retrievers, and also those little black and tan Weiner dogs and Border Collies.
 
For the most part though, I’m somewhat leery of the species, having been bitten by a German Shepherd when I was a kid.
 
Maybe he knew I was a cat person, and didn’t like it.

Or, maybe I was a cat in another life-time.
 
Maybe that explains it.
 
Perhaps I still carry some of that feline smell around with me : )
 
Some dogs like cats, though, and some cats get along well with certain dogs.
 
Sort of like I do.

“
Maybe we should get a dog,” I thought to myself.
 
Giddy obviously loved Sampson.

“
Sampsssson
!!” I heard from the other room.

I just shook my head.
 
Geez… could he read minds, too?

*****

That night, Melody and I were in bed together after Giddy had fallen fast asleep in his room.
 
The cats were at our feet, which was unusual for them that early in the evening… so, I suppose maybe they did miss us when we were gone.
 
My wife had the laptop on and was checking
Kickstarter
.
 
The pledges were up to 239,010 dollars… I think people were just contributing to it on a lark, figuring it would never get funded.

Boy, were they wrong.
 
A couple of days later our phone started ringing off the hook.
 
A one-point-five billion dollar pledge had been dedicated towards Melody’s campaign.

*****

Of course, it was Ray that pledged the money.
 
We found out later that he didn’t have to pony up the usual 5% charge to Amazon… that’s why it took a while for the donation to show up.
 
He negotiated them down to something like 0.5%... still a substantial sum, though.
 

You may wonder why he didn’t just circumvent the program altogether and save the finder’s fee.
 
He figured that the donation would encourage others to give to the cause, also, and he was right.
 
Ray didn’t get to be a billionaire by being stupid.
 
In a few days, the grand total was close to 1.75 billion, and climbing.

*****

Reporters started calling, and even camping out in the neighborhood.
 
Coronado
has fairly strict rules about that sort of thing, though, so it wasn’t as much of a problem as we figured it would be.
 
Amanda moved in with us for about a month, and was our little secret shopper.
 
We would send her out when we needed something from the store, or if we wanted some fast food… okay, that was mostly me… and the media never seemed to catch on.
 
There is an alley behind our house, and she would usually go on one of our bicycles and exit a block or, so, away.

*****

Fortunately, most of the attention finally shifted to Raymond Bradford, and he could handle it.
 
He’s used to such attention… indeed, he seems to thrive upon it.
 
The billionaire held a press conference from his facility over in
Texas
, and he explained in great detail his plans and preparations up until that point.

Ray was on 60 Minutes, and looked to be very much the outdoorsman as he and the news lady walked the grounds of his enterprise, his black
Labrador
by his side.

“
Sampssson
!” exclaimed Giddy as we watched the program.
 
Boris and Samantha seemed attuned to the television, also, but kept any vocalizations to themselves.

“Woof!!” said our son.
 
We busted up laughing.
 
The cats kind of glanced sideways at him.
 
Boris jumped in my lap as if he needed assurance that everything was all right with his world, and that no dogs were in our future.

I scratched him behind his ears and assured him that nothing like a puppy was on the immediate table.

We had an asteroid to divert.

*****

Raymond was right.
 
The government was a bit of a problem.
 
There are no rules or laws covering such an activity as interstellar rock painting, but, The Department of Homeland Security has broad powers that encompass any endeavors that can jeopardize the
United States
.
 

The catch was, no one was sure if the activity would be helpful or harmful.
 
There was quite a bit of debate amongst the scientists across the world as to the danger posed by FYI-616-B.
 
All pretty much agreed that it would be a close encounter at the calculated date, but, things like that are very hard to predict so far into the future.
 

Since our NASA had been gutted a while back, a decision was made allowing Raymond Bradford to carry on with his program, at least for the time being.
 
For once, our congress and leaders made a logical decision.
 
I suppose they figured it would be better to have something and not need it than vice-versa.

*****

Several other countries debated whether to start similar programs, but only two eventually did.
 
Russia
and
India
.
 
China
tried, but, the economic fortunes of that country had deteriorated, and a series of engineering failures put them behind the 8 ball as far as the launch window was concerned.
 
The two programs that did carry forward were supposedly based more on ballistics, and were apparently to rely on the inertial jolt of slamming a payload into the rock at a high rate of speed.
 
The mass of what they could put up was miniscule compared to the mass of the asteroid, and it was an open question as to if such actions would make any change to the object’s path at all.

Ray didn’t mind the competition.
 
The more the merrier, as far as he was concerned.
 
I think he considered it all to be the best advertising for his space program, possible.
 
Especially if he was instrumental in saving planet Earth… what could be better publicity than that?

*****

One good thing about an asteroid heading your way… it tends to make you re-evaluate your priorities.
 
Not only people, but nations, as well.
 
There was a marked decrease in hostilities as the planet became more and more aware of its vulnerability in those early days… it didn’t last, though.

Of course, not everyone was convinced there was a problem.
 
Conspiracy theories abounded, as they are prone to do.
 
Some believed it to be just another money grab… especially those from developed countries with active space and science programs.
 
Many others were convinced that it was a plot to destabilize populations and foment unrest and discord as the projected date grew closer.
 
Actually, kind of the opposite would happen… I’ll get to that, later.

*****

Anyway, at least Melody was happier since something was being done.
 
That was the most important thing to me.

I continued to steal away to the therapist, when I could, or periodically she would come by and hypnotize me in my study.
 
The things we began to accumulate on tape were quite spell binding, to say the least.

*****

Finally, my wife learned to put me into the trance state so that the therapist wasn’t needed.
 
I suspected that Mia had requested this (during one of her penned sessions) in order for Giddeon to deliver highly sensitive information.
 
I was right.
 
Still, I kept up appointments with the therapist, at least once a week, so that she wouldn’t know that we were receiving info to which she wasn’t privy.
 
I realized, later, that Giddeon was protecting Jennifer… the less she knew, the better.

*****

And, so, our lives went.
 
Feeding the cats, playing with the baby, and collecting state and international secrets.

*****

For days I was affected by my night spent next to the dying girl.
 
I couldn’t get her out of my mind.
 
It was just so, so sad.
 
I realized she hadn’t even been born, yet, and indeed may have actually been nothing more than a potentiality that would never exist, but still I was impacted and changed.
 

Giddeon showed Greg what pain was, that day, and he unknowingly showed me, too.
 
It was another type of pain, and it was wrapped up in the emotion of compassion, but, still, it hurt.
 
I had always had empathy for those whom were suffering, but this was different.
 
This was the first contact I had actually made with another person.
 
I can even now see her reaching out to me and saying that word, over and over.
 
At the time, I thought it was the word for Mother or Momma… but, I was wrong.
 
One day, I went and looked it up at the library.

It wasn’t the word for Mother.

It was another word, entirely…

Angel.

****

That just made me cry, again.
 
Some angel I was.
 
I didn’t even give her the comfort of a touch when she needed it.
 
When I think of all of the pain in the world, it is somehow condensed down into her little form.
 
Always, I carry her in my heart.

I don’t understand pain and why it’s so necessary.
 
I realize that it’s all part of the grand design.
 
The grand design that propagates survival through behavioral conditioning.
 
Conditioning helps us as organisms to avoid noxious stimuli… noxious stimuli which might be detrimental and dangerous (now, I’m starting to sound like Giddeon)… but, doesn’t it seem like overkill?
 
Does it have to be so over the top?
 
What benefit was the pain to that little girl when there was no way for her to recover?
 
How does that help the species?
 

By showing the horror of it all to those in the vicinity, so that they can avoid a similar fate in the future?

If that’s it, then evolution is a particularly cruel and heartless teacher.
 
Is this really the only way we can learn?
 
Are we so impaired in our ability to progress that we need these types of lessons?
 

Apparently, so.

Like I said, I’ve seen it all.
 
That’s why I don’t have a whole lot of faith in our species.
 
I suppose the good outweighs the bad, but, it doesn’t seem like it’s by much.

Sorry… there I go, again. I’m not as full of sunshine as you and Giddeon, or even Greg.
 
I try… I really do, but, if left to my own devices I tend to spiral into the melancholy.
 
I suppose that’s why Giddeon is good for me.
 
Opposites attract, right?
 
Thank goodness he accepts me no matter my mood.
 
And, to be truthful, he does have a way of nuzzling under my skin and making me smile.

You optimists can be very frustrating… do you know that?

I don’t know if you’re blind to reality or if I’m focusing on all of the wrong things.
 

Is existence really so amazing that all of the misery is justified?
 

When my head is on
Giddeon’s
chest, and I can hear his heartbeat, sometimes I feel that maybe it is.
 
All of the pain and loneliness that I went through for so many years dissolve away and it’s as if none of it ever happened.
 
But, doesn’t that diminish it?
 
Not remembering?
 
When I compare my current happiness against that despair, it seems more fantastic, still… so maybe that’s why I hold onto the bad.
 
It gives me perspective.

But, then again, it makes me worry.
 
What if he goes away?
 
What then?
 
I don’t think I could take it.
 
So, the happiness becomes a double-edged sword.
 
Sometimes I don’t want to get too close, because it will hurt all the more if we’re separated.
 
Do you see what I mean?

I’m a mess.

Is this what love does to you?
 
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
 
Maybe I should just try doing neither.
 
The Middle Path and all of that.
 
But, then, when I think about such a life… what good would that be?
 
No desire.
 
No pain.
 
Wouldn’t that be its own type of pain?
 
A dull blade that cuts, oh, so slowly.
 
Still, it would cut, and separate your life into parts… here and there.
 
Lonely, unfeeling parts…

I’m going to put the pen down, now.
 
You have enough on your plate without me adding to it.
 
I’ll be alright.
 
Oh… look who’s here.
 
He’s tickling… me… stop it!

Goodnight!

*****