Doug Donnan
Executive Editor/OMNI-GENRE+
STRANGE AND MYSTERIOUS WAYS
by
Doug Donnan
"Tell us professor just how
often does this alignment business happen?" a young blonde
reporter asked. She had a probing intensity that shocked
even her. It was her first actual
assignment, but one would never
have guessed it by the way she conducted herself.
"Well miss," Professor
Vanderbilt began as he slowly pulled away his chromium, wire
rimmed glasses as if he were
about to address a room filled with impatient students. "The
chances of this ever happening
again are, at best, infinitesimal. Einstein proclaimed that
'God does not play dice with the
universe!' This arrangement of
Jupiter's moons, all in a
row if you will, would be a long
shot at any casino in Las Vegas or Atlantic City!"
. "But what does it all have to do
with us here on Big Blue?" the woman pressed.
"Layman's lingo if you would
please.”
"Okay, I’ll try," Vanderbilt
said as he grasped the podium just beneath the huge bouquet
of microphones. "The giant
Jupiter has a plethora of moons, large and small, some very
close to it, and some far away,
from the massive icy Ganymede to the tiny Leda. They are,
each and all, captured in the
great planet’s gravitational net. There are at least sixteen
moons, at
last count, orbiting her. That's a lot of satellites young lady and if you have
them
all in alignment sandwiched
between Earth, including the eclipsing Mars and our lonely
old Moon, we might just
have ourselves one heck of a… moving Christmas!"
"That's not that far off sir. It’s
only a few weeks," an older television anchorman called
out as he fanned some fingers up
in the air for effect. "Should we be concerned?"
Professor Vanderbilt cupped a hand above
his eyes before replacing his glasses. He
stood awash in the bright camera
lights in his white lab coat. He was secretly enjoying his
fifteen minutes of fame.
"Well, quite frankly sir--we're not
certain about that. Some of my colleagues pooh-
pooh this Jovian lunar parade
away as merely a very rare astronomical phenomenon while
still others are ready to sound
the alarm for some resounding global catastrophe."
"What do you think? Is
something big gonna’ happen, something…major?"
"I think that this unique experience
just may affect a few of us rather… passionately.”
"Maybe it’s just me doc, but that
kind of passionate experience doesn't sound very
sexy," crew cut offered
back.
Soon newspapers and magazines worldwide
jumped all over the extraterrestrial event:
Moon Riddler! for Time magazine.
Queue Balls! quipped Newsweek
Jupiter Jam! announced The National
Enquirer
What Goes Around Comes Around! USA
Today
From far and wide even the most
modest of local newspapers joined the craze:
The Sixteen
Moons of Christmas! Headlined North Carolina's popular Raleigh
Observer
And so what began as a whimsical
curiosity for most rational people around the globe
soon became a growing
concern as December twenty-fifth and the alignment of the
sixteen distant moons drew near. The professor grew ever more
concerned, eventually
extremely apprehensive.
* *
*
"Come to bed Godfrey,"
Mrs.Vanderbilt sighed as she squinted out from the crater-
like depression of her
down pillow. "For heaven's sake it's 3 o'clock in the morning!
You're going to stir up
the grand kids downstairs on their pallets with all your pacing."
"Ssshh Mariane--I can't sleep!
In a few hours they'll be set in line, all of them! The
Galileans--Io, Europa,
Callisto, Ganymede and then falling in perfect alignment Metis,
Adrastea, Almalthea,
Thebe, Leda, Himalia, Lysithea, Elara, Ananke, Carme, Pasiphae,
and Sinope all tugging
away with the mighty force of Jupiter behind them! The effect
of it all, the
gravitational force and pull on us. There'll be devastation Mariane—
heaving, catastrophic
shifting tides, Tsunamis, global flooding and then..."
"Oh stop that nonsense Godfrey
Vanderbilt," she sighed. “You're driving me crazy with
all this moon business.
You’ve managed to convince everybody but yourself that there's
nothing
to it all. She rolled over on her side like some large, foundering ocean liner.
"Come
back to bed. Tomorrow is
Christmas day for heaven's sake!"
Vanderbilt loped over to the triptych of
bump out bedroom bay windows that
overlooked the snow covered
back courtyard of the two story brownstone. The moonlight
seemed almost
phosphorescent as it washed over everything below. He massaged
his
pulsing temples with the very tips of his fingers as he gazed up at the
twinkling
darkness of the sky. He
focused his attention on the radiant North Star… Polaris,
everyman's ultimate guide
for hope and direction. A glistening tear wandered down his
cheek, controlled only by
gravity and fate. He made a silent prayer as he pressed the
sweating palms of his hands
against the frosted window pane:
“Dear God, here and now on the
birthday of your only begotten son, save us once
again. Intervene
again. Spare us the pain and suffering of this catastrophe. Let it be.
Please… let it be.”
* *
*
In the morning, the Vanderbilt house was
alive with the excitement and wonder of
Christmas. Sweet smells
wafted from the kitchen. Singing and chatter by the green and
silver tree--but for
professor Vanderbilt pressing away on the TV remote control
everything seemed Norman
Rockwell perfect.
"Godfrey! Please turn that
thing off and come join us in the kitchen for eggnog."
Vanderbilt was studying the screen with
grave intent and interest. Finally he placed
the remote back down on
the coffee table.
"I think it's over and we've made it
through!" he said to no one in particular. He
reached for the phone on
the mahogany end table and was about to make some phone
calls. His green and red
aproned wife came and stood behind him. She placed her floured
hands on his shoulders
and began to kneed them like cookie dough.
"I told you everything would be okay
Godfrey. Nothing happened! Remember, the
Lord and this universe, must
work in strange and mysterious ways.
Please come along now and
join us in the kitchen for some of the nice eggnog… 'mmm!"
Vanderbilt raised himself up with a deep
sigh of satisfaction and followed the cooking
scents into the white
warmth of the kitchen. It was true nothing had happened. His wife
was right--strange and
mysterious ways indeed!
December
25 south eastern Africa
Kaokoveld
region of the Namib Desert
Vengapi Pinjvanda had guided his herd of
milking goats and rather extensive Himba
family through this
region many times in the past. The Kunene River that snaked its way
through this particularly
arid and desolate section of the Namib had always been an
oasis. But now, in the
last year or so, the Kunene had dried up into a parched red clay rut.
It had become only a
pathetic thin highway for stealthy sand lizards and a crude, twisting
runway for scavenging
vultures. As he sat there with his long willowy black arms crossed
over his knees, he tilted
his head down as if all at once the total weight of his frustrated
efforts to exist had
pushed down upon him like some great and merciless weight. His
pipe-stemmed children in
their pathetic faded American relief T-shirts and the struggling
sea
of emaciated goats all gathered around him hoping that somehow he could bring
the
cool
flow of water back to them. It was a cruel scene of futility and barren
despair.
And just then…
There was an impatient rumbling, a
shuddering tremor off in the distance. They could
all feel the quivering
vibration along the dried mud of the crevasse that was the Kunene.
Then, like an
eye-blistering mirage, the waters rushed past them. A thin, muddy ribbon at
first, and then,
gradually, a churning silver flow of refreshing liquid life. They staggered
forward and cautiously
dipped themselves into the rushing water. Many of them fell to
their knees there at the
bank of the rejuvenated river. They scooped the dried cups of
their hands down into the
cool wetness and pulled up a refreshing drink. The skeletal
goats fanned out and
waded in, bleating and crying out as they felt and slurped at the
crystal waters of the
revived Kunene.
Vengapi raised himself up and blew out a
thin sigh of ecstasy. He shuffled forward
and stepped out into the
miraculous river. He stood there for a moment letting the cool,
rushing water massage his
burning feet before he had even noticed it off on the lavender
horizon, just above the
jagged mountain range. The herdsman cupped his crusted hand
over his squinting eyes
and tried to focus on the star. It was the silver star of guidance
hanging up in the bright
blue sky like a flickering campfire. Here, in the light of day, it
shone down for all to
see. Vengapi collapsed to his knees and wept at the strange and
miraculous beauty of it
all.
___The End___
