Warlord Chapter Two

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

A farm family gets a visitor, not of our world

Warlord

A short science fiction story

By Duke Randler

Chapter Two - Farmer

Pete and Paul Dawson were unaware of Sphere or its’ effect on global tensions.  They were making small talk while tending to their newly planted fields of corn.  But when it came down trailing a miles long of smoke and water vapor; it was blatantly obvious.  Especially since it impacted in neighbor Joes’ fields several miles down the road.  Both expected a huge explosion but none came.  Their first thought was not about the crash site.  It was about the lady in their life, Mary.  Wife to Pete and mother of Paul.

That old tractor was so slow.  It took them several minutes to get back to the homestead.  Pete had to help his son down out of the tractor and into his power wheelchair. Since his fall into the main silo, Paul was paralyzed from the waist down. A state police helicopter passed overhead while they walked to the house.  Mary was just coming out on the front porch.  The radio in the kitchen was busily trying to relay whatever news was coming in about the meteorite. 

When her men told her it had come down on Joes’ land, she insisted they call.  Turns out a trooper had gotten out of the helicopter, rounded them all up, and was staying with them in the house.  Said he was there to keep them safe.  This was followed shortly by the local fire department and its’ only ambulance racing down the dirt road that leads between the farms.

Two A-10 Warthogs from the National Guard airbase upstate passed overhead.  Very low and very fast.  And apparently, judging from all the armament slung under the wings; very heavily armed.

Pete got out the binoculars he used for hunting and looked towards the crash site.  Still no smoke or fire.  Joes’ corn was as green as Petes’. Thank goodness, he could not afford to lose his cash crop.  Times were tough for both families.

Paul noticed someone coming in from the road.  Young man, like him. Slender but well-muscled and deeply tanned.  He was dressed in ankle height Carhart boots, faded jeans, and a short-sleeved plain cotton shirt.  There was an Army duffle bag on his back and what may have been a messenger bag slung across one shoulder, both faded.

Walking up to the front porch, he said “Hello, my name Pax Visitor.  Mind if I rest here awhile?  I had to run like a deer to keep front that thing running me over”  Pretty close call, huh, said, Peter.  Yep, just glad it didn’t blow up. Just plowed a really long trench into that field.  It dug most of itself into the ground.  Then it vanished, darnest thing I have ever seen.”

Introductions to the Dawson family followed.  Pax explained that he had been dropped off by a trucker on the Interstate.  He was going to go into town and try and find dinner and a place to rest for the night.  Mary suggested that he could have dinner with them but Pete shook his head before she could offer him shelter for the night.  He was nice enough but no sense taking chances with a stranger.

While Mary made dinner, the men talked about the meteorite, the helicopter, fire dept, and ambulance.  And why the meteorite had disappeared after it crashed.  The meal turned out to be quick and delicious.  Fried chicken, real mashed potatoes, and green beans; all from the farm.  Not much was said during the meal.  Pax was obviously very hungry and the Dawsons didn’t want to interrupt the meal he was so obviously enjoying.

Pax thanked Mary for the delicious meal and the family went back onto the front porch.

More small talk followed.  He explained that he was trying to get to St. Jude's children hospital.  A second cousin had recently been taken there with cancer.  He and Pax had become pretty close during last summer and Pax felt obliged to see him before something really bad happened. 

 And he needed to get on the road again.  As the sun was slowly going down, Pete said he would run him into town.  Pax accepted and said his goodbyes to Paul and Mary and shook their hands.. Kind of a strange way to do it, though.  Not hand to hand but hand to the wrist.  There was the tiniest pinprick in their wrist that neither one noticed.   The farmer used his old Ford pickup, took their visitor into town, and dropped him off on Main Street near the Methodist church.  Peter knew the pastor there and was pretty sure that he would let Pax crash in the chapel for the night.  Again, that strange handshake as the men parted company.

Two days later, Mary had a doctor's appointment for follow up blood work, and X-rays to see how her breast cancer was progressing.  And Paul had been complaining about his legs feeling strange.  Doc Adams was astounded to see that the lumps were, apparently shrinking.  And even more amazed when he hit Pauls’s knees with that silly little rubber hammer.  There was the tiniest movement;  like he was getting some feeling back. 

Come Sunday, Mary knew in her heart that she was healed.  And Paul, even though it had been painful, was strong enough to raise himself out of the power chair and stand unassisted; if only for a few seconds.  The Dawson family asked Pastor Bakula to let them testify to the rest of his flock and praise Jesus for their miracles. The pastor went them one better.  It was not a meteorite that crashed, then vanished, near their little town.  It was an Angel sent to bless the God-fearing and bring righteousness back to this sin-filled world.

 


Submitted: December 14, 2020

© Copyright 2021 DukeRandler. All rights reserved.

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