Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site

Walking among us part 2

Novel By: Steve Fettinger
Mystery and crime



Attempt to understand a unfolding of mysteries View table of contents...


Chapters:

1 2 3

Submitted:Feb 19, 2011    Reads: 64    Comments: 0    Likes: 14   


Walking Among us

Part 2

What scares us? What makes us smile? What is the first thing you can remember of your childhood? Your first memory is something you probably haven't gave much thought to, at least not as an adult. We push our memories to the back as we fill our minds with the present and try to plan for the future. But, somewhere back in the shadows of our memories, it hides and waits for us. What was my first memory?

A light to medium blue ceiling with shapes of dark blue birds, no, the feeling of falling, or was it my parents? For me it's complicated the memories seem to fade and intertwine. I remember so many things and yet my short term memory or what I have of it holds me back in my present life. Our intelligence is often judged by others by our ability to recall upon demand. When I was in second grade I wanted to be a writer of novels but didn't like to read, hated sentence structure and composition. Having a better memory would have made that easy, so, as it goes I moved on leaving it behind, tucking it into the back of my memories. I have become so many other things through my life. Youth has slipped away along with many dreams, how about you?

Indiana is in the midwest of the United States of America, below Lake Michigan. Winter is here in Indiana. Summer's warmth has passed along with golden leaves of fall, only the bone chilling cold of winter remains.  

The morning's cold winter chill filled the house. I ran to pick up yet another prank telephone call. The phone would ring three times, then as I would pick it up, all there was to hear, was a dial tone then loud beeps followed by a computer generated operator saying please hang up and try again blah, blah, blah…ect… This time was deferent. This time there was a voice, it sounded raspy and winded. I couldn't tell if the voice belonged to man or woman as I listened. The voice said "Wee (gasp)… notice d … you (gasp)… wh-en you (gasp)… not iced h-us-s.", then a long static filled emptiness. Always the static even with the hang ups. Finally a click then the sound of that computer generated operator again. "Dumb Asses!" I muttered out loud while walking through an otherwise empty house. Throwing the phone on to the couch, I walked to the living room sat in a chair by the window. I pulled the curtains open to look out the window onto the street. A fine layer of new fallen snow now covered everything, even the leafless trees, that just a few months ago were warm and green and then turned colors of reds, oranges, browns and gold. Beneath the street lights lay streets of cracked and broken pavement with potholes where the weather had eroded the street away just beneath the snow. Amongst summer's finely manicured yards set one yard with grass that needed mowed, weeds pulled and sapling removed from the houses foundation. That would have been my house a few months ago, now afresh veil of snow covered everything. Across the crystal sparkling snow I could see some kind of foot prints traced across my yard. Just as when I was a kid, I pulled on my coat and headed outside to investigate the foot prints.

I remember walking on the fresh white veil of newly fallen snow, back when I was a kid of maybe nine or ten. I would follow all kinds of foot prints and tracks through the snow, sometimes they led nowhere. One time some foot prints in the snow stopped at the door of my grandmother's garage. The door had snow against it and looked as if it had not been opened, at least not since the snow fell. This particular type of garage door folded open, hinged panels to the sides that hung from a rail. As I slid open the first door that formed a panel, the snow began to be pushed into a pile binding the door. Looking inside of the garage it was not dark, because the old wooden doors were full of windows, four panes squares of glass per door panel. I remember the inside space seemed to be filled with boxes of junk, some antiques, old picture frames, clothes and books. Nothing seemed to be disturbed, nothing except an old leather covered bound book. This book was as big as one of those old family Bibles or old Webster's dictionary of the 1920s. It was fairly heavy, as I put it up on a box next to my grandmother's car (a blue 1970's Ford Comet). Carved into the book's cover in gold leaf was written "Ancient's History" not Ancient History, but Ancient's, this caught my eye. My hand slid across the dry leather coveras I opened the book. It was for the most part in English, but it had other languages and writings in it too, other languages and symbols. This book had many chapters talking about a race living hundreds of millions of years ago having a civilization and the many civilizations that followed. Setting claim in print this book had been translated off of some kind of languages carved into saplings made into staffs of now would be thousands of years old, and also carvings into tree trunks, and timbers and even stone. These object were found in caves, or storm cellars, and even old fruit cellars more recently. These objects were collected for hundreds of years to compiled information into this book in the nineteen twenties,so the book said. I started reading the book but didn't get far and I kind of jumped around, a lot, because I was a kid. I guess people did not know much about these objects because they couldn't read the language it was written in, probably thought it was just designs, decorative, so they gave them away or sold them cheap or threw them out. If memory serves, I believe what I read about those people was about their religion or beliefs and history. Time ran out, for my grandma was an antique dealer and the book sold. She once had her own antique shop called Millie's, but that was in the before my time. My grandmother said it sold to another dealer of antiquities. To this day I have never seen another book like that again. I do not remember talking about this book to anyone else before now. That would have been over forty years ago now, on a cold winter's day, like today.

A cold north west wind blew as I looked down at the snow. The foot prints in the snow in front of my house started in the middle of the street then lead into my yard. Starting in my yard I followed the prints around my house almost to my garage were they ended in the snow, just like before. This was just like when I was a kid and the foot prints that stopped at my grandmothers garrage they just ended. I studied the tracks, bending over kneeling close the ground, at first look might have belonged to a woman or a child by the size. After looking closer it became difficult to tell if they were even human foot prints or animal tracks, and where did the owner of these tracks go? After looking around the yard awhileit was gettingcold, time to go inside again. Sometimes there just isn't anything left to do.

Christmas and New Years day came and went. One night while watching television with my family, something caught my attention, out of the corner of my eye, from out side the window. A blue light passed by the front window, like a light from a LED flashlight or florecent light. I looked at my wife, Her eyes were fixed on the window, so I asked ,"Did you see that?". As she turned to me she said " It was glowing and clear. You could see through it." she paused for a moment then asked "What was that? It looked like it was glowing". My thirty year old son, who was sitting with us, and I threw on our coats and raced outside. Circling the house on both sides we saw nothing in the yard or around the house, then the neighbors motion detector turned on thier garage light. There didn't seem to be anything that triggered the light in sight. After looking around we went back into the house, shrugged and told my wife that we didn't see anything when she asked. We wondered and talked about what it might of been that we had seen, but the conversation soon ended, then we resumed watching TV. The night got late, soon everyone was tired and called it a night.

Morning came early with the sound of an alarm clock ringing. Now it was time to go to work after a shower and a something for breakfast, swallow a glass of juice with some herbal supplements. A daily regiment starts every work day. Driving a service van to a customer's business location, doing some repairs then back to the shop to restock the van. Day's seem to run into each other as in all jobs, it becomes somewhat redundant at times. I think it would be nice to really have a job that I loved to do, makes you wonder, how many people do. Wiping my hands with shop rags I turn to my paperwork, then check and double check and make sure there could be no mistakes in the forms. Off to another customer's location trouble shoot the electrical controls and hydraulic systems, I found a leaking seal within a valve body alowing hydraulic fluid to bleed through causing loss of pressure and position could not be held. Another repair and another customer back in business, finish the paperwork call the shop, get the papers signed and off to the next. The next was a deisel engine not working properly, check fuel,electrical and combustion. I'm not so good with the conbustion engines as I am electrical, but do get by when the day is over. Time to go home. I only spent four hours on the road today. Looking in the mirror grease and dirt seems to cover my face like a mask used in a health spa, so out come the shop towels and fast orange cleaner. Often you have to wipe your self down as you drive, people always stare some smile some don't.

Finally at home, off come the shoes then dirty clothes then to the shower. Sometimes the wife is waiting sometimes she isn't home for awhile from work or maybeshe'swith a freind. When I ask sometimes she explains othertimes she'll say who her freinds aren't any of my business. So be it.What can you do when you got kids? Life goes on. There are always bills to pay and thats a struggle. Going out to the garage I know it needs straightened up but after ten minutes... I give up and go to the yard. Cutting out some sapplings and pulling weeds in the summer take up some time then as it turns out I walk around picking up trash that has blow into my yard.This trash comes year round from animals getting into trash cans mainly mine, but the neighbors too and what blows off the street finds my yard also. Thats the summer, but this is winter there is always snow to shovel and trash to pick up and as for the garage its cold, so, hell with it. It's cold, so I stay inside more and watchTV or get on the computor until it gets late.

At night I have always gone outside alot and looked up into the stars, since I was a kid, just to think. It relaxes me. I still think about what it was that I saw falling in the tree line and what made the tracks. I almost always find myself looking off to the tree line to the south and then to the sky. Maybe, I'll try to find that book on line?  

Early in the morning before most people rise, street lights dimly light intersections of countless streets. Cracked pavement with gravel showing through where the rains and time has washed away the surface. Broken sidewalk hold back overgrown weeds from un-kept yards next to finely manicured lawns. This is common in towns and cities everywhere and this is like anywhere. Looking through a gap in the curtains watching the empty street corner lit from the street light or what light made it through the trees. I turned on the television, and watched the news. Life is often redundant.

Sitting alone in the dark a cold chill swept over my body, while watching a story about a man that went missing. The name sounded familiar, just a bi-line in the news. What crossed my mind was he might have been someone from something I read off of the internet. It think he had posted some claims on the internet about a Canadian archeologist that had sent a fossil and photographs of a marine animal to two marine biologists, one in North West United States and the other in gulf coast. I know your thinking "So what?" All three men died mysteriously in accidents, all within a year. The multiple news stories went almost unnoticed at least to most people. The missing man claimed the fossil appeared to be a cross between two deep sea creatures. A crossing of creatures one similar to a type of squid or octopus called a cuttlefish or something and a humpbacked anglerfish only that lived in shallow waters and maybe on land. Deep sea creatures are not supposed to live in shallow water and not on land at all. This fossil was supposed to be estimated to around 400 million years old.

When I was a kid collecting fossils was a hobby. Most fossils were mostly ferns and shell fish, but one fossil did look like a squid shape over a long toothed bass skull and partial vertebrate. I figured it was just two partial fish remains overlaying one another I put it away in a box, and lost the box over time. Fossils are rocks with an imprinted records of the past in them left for all the world to see.

Rocks were quarried locally to fill around roads and the reservoirs that were built in northern Indiana in the nineteen sixties, where and when my fossils were found.The box with fossils is long gone lost years ago. So what, you may think, but what if something like this did exist? This is all contingent on if you believe in evolution, so I looked the fish up on the internet. Both were deep sea fish that are not supposed to be able to cross breed. Imagine creatures that could be bioluminescent, change color, texture and even shapes to blend in with any landscape? What if they did cross becoming amphibious, then land creatures over the mentioned time frame? Shape shifters would be the definition of such creatures. How intelligent would they be and if they crossed with each other why not cross with other animals? Why wouldn't we have some records of these things? What if we do? That's a lot of "what if's?", but, they would have been here first. What would we be to them?

Ancient's History was the title on the cover of a very old book that I once briefly looked at. Most history books would read Ancient History meaning our history of ancient times, but this book would be the history of the ancients. Who were the ancients? Which people are they referring, to if people at all? Assuming we are knowledgeable of history if memory serves me ths book might have been early science fiction, maybe the writings of some kind of religious cult or something. If not, what did they believe? Many years have past so it has become hard to remember much of what I did read. What about their religion? They believed something like this if memory serves.

Everything is all within a giant sphere, as far as one can imagine outwards through space and even time is where everything is. Everything is reflected from the inner shell of the sphere, reflective and luminescent sparkling crystals of all colors imaginable and more brilliant than can be described where white is much more than white. Beyond the shell is nothing and more than nothing (what ever that means). The shell is everything. Everything is reflected inward in all the dimensions we know, because everything is energy projected inwards to form mass. From the mass all things are perceived. The mass reflects outwards, light reflects, sound reflects, the objects we feel are reflections of the mass, and even what we comprehend as reality is reflected. This is all within the giant sphere. Everything in nature is said to move in cycles but it is really it is in spheres. Our live intersect as spheres sometimes collide and sometimes move through each other.

Maybe, that was close to what I remember reading, it could have been their philosophy or maybe even religion. But when did they live or did they really live at all? These people or race supposedly lived hundreds of million of years ago and had a great civilization.





14

| Email this story Email this Novel | Add to reading list



Reviews

About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.