STRANGE AND MYSTERIOUS WAYS

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___