The Pipe, the missing page (October 26)

Reema’s mother braced herself as officials spilled into the spaceport. She faced them with a smile. “Legends are real,” she said.

None of them had time to ask what she meant because the main exit slid open. Her daughter entered, Kraft a step behind. “It’s Trip,” groaned Reema nodding a polite greeting to the group of elders. Spreading her arms in a gesture of nervous confusion she complained, “He was chasing us, trying to start trouble.”

“He passed through the dome without protection,” added Kraft.

“We should reevaluate our senior cadet,” said Reema’s mother. “He rarely follows orders.”

“He must have tripped the second alarm. We thought what had entered the city left the same way,” said the city guardian, his eyes fixed on Reema’s mother.

“I request an emergency council meeting,” answered the security officer. “Reama and Kraft must come.”

The Guardian nodded and motioned to the five council members. Together they led the three to the blue council chamber adjacent to the spaceport. Before anyone could ask a questions, the guardian’s senior security officer repeated, “Legends are real.”

"We know," agreed the council.

“The aliens came through the pipe,” blurted Reema laying bare her thoughts.

“There were two,” added Kraft, "A boy and a girl." He lowered his mind shield, too.

Reema’s mother explained, “The children from the world called Earth aren’t telepaths. They aren’t ready for our world.”

“We had to protect them from Trip,” said Kraft. “They were so scared.”

"Trip tore the protection sheet from the girl," said Reema sharing her terror to the members of the council.

 “And how did they reopen the portal?” asked the guardian.

“I told my daughter to give them a twig from the tree,” answered Reema’s mother. Her silver-grey eyes held steady on the Guardian. She kept her thoughts fully open to the probing of all the council members.

“Then all is secure,” said the Guardian. He turned on his heels, and followed by the others, returned to the space port.

Family

Questions have arisen about some family photos posted under the blog title "Family"

One of the photos was a family wedding photo of Opa (Charles Ernest Bogaardt) and Oma (Bertha Breuer  Bogaardt).  

Unfortunately, family history is difficult to reconstruct. So many loved ones from Indonesia have passed away: Opa, Armand, Oscar, Ilse, and now Sally. Just last week we honored "Sally" Helena Drysen, whose maiden name was Breuer.  Her brother Donny and sister Meta were in attendance at the memorial service. 

The most recent blog entry offered a tribute to Sally, who along with her brother and sister were children of Oma Bertha's brother Oscar Breuer.

Thankfully, Oma Bertha is healthy at 99. She just celebrated her birthday on October 14. Although she no longer speaks, she is attentive and seems to recognize those that have been so much a part of her life. Here is a photo taken yesterday.

A Tribute to Sally

            Her name was Helene, but our family only called her Sally, just like we call John, Harry. For us, Sally was more than a passing part of our lives. Sally was our saint.

A good priest once said to me, “Holiness attracts.” And Sally was attractive. Just ask Harry.

I have few thoughts on holiness, sanctity by another name.

          Holiness means going out of your way to help others with a smile on your face. Sally always had a smile for everyone. She bubbled with delight.

Holiness means normalcy. Check out Sally’s Facebook page. What’s more normal than being connected technologically? Normalcy means you can laugh with those who laugh and weep with those who weep. It’s alright to cry as we do today.

          Holiness includes feeding the hungry. And boy, were we hungry whenever we came to visit. We had to drive hours to get to La Puente, and she always filled our bodies with the tastiest meals and our minds with great conversations. Yes Harry, you were part of all the feeding and mind games. After all, holiness in a wife means one-ness with the husband; and you two were so together.

Saint Paul wrote that a woman can reach holiness by childbearing. Maybe he meant that the struggle of childbirth wins that crown. I think it’s the years of struggle involved in trying to form the kids, Kirby, Melinda, Darrel into faith filled, giving adults: the way Sally has done.   

Gratitude is part of holiness, too. Some of us show it by going to Church. Sally went. Some of us show it by accepting invitations to parties, gatherings, and special events. Sally accepted. Some of us show it by worrying about others. Sally worried about Tante Ilse, Tante Irene, Oom Oscar, the family vanguard.

Surely she’s grateful that you are here, because despite this sad moment, she has brought us together. She has fed us a spiritual meal, and she has strengthened our faith.

Saints, of course, are people who are in heaven, and they take with them fond memories; memories of family, co-workers, friends, and the little boy lost. Marty, are you here?”  (pause)

Real saints echo the saintly men and women described in the bible. Whether we talk of the worthy wife of Proverbs or follow the holy women of the Gospels, saints embody holiness.  Sally most certainly did.

The Pipe

Trip made his way up the rocky incline. In less than a hundred yards, the trail ended against the purple wall of the hill. He tried to climb farther hoping the trail continued higher up.  His foot slipped and he fell back on the rocks lining the trail. “They couldn’t have come this way,” he said to himself. He climbed again thinking why would a trail end against a wall? He wondered if some spaceship had picked the aliens off the mountain. He grabbed a rock and tossed it hard against the wall, angry that he’d failed his duty. There was no way around that wall.

            Looking up, he realized twilight had descended and he needed to return to the city for safety. He hurried his steps still looking back to see where the elusive aliens might have gone. He never gave thought to how he would explain chasing aliens outside the city. The security officer had seen them. So had Kraft and Reema. He could easily bear down on Kraft’s mind to make him tell the truth. He worried about Reema, though, because her telepathic skills were formidable. Would she lie about the aliens?  He needed proof.   

Instantly he twisted on his heels and ran back down the road toward the black tree. He could hardly see in the growing darkness, but he scrambled up the hidden path. When he found the outcropping that had torn the alien’s shirt, he groped with his hand till he felt the soft cloth. In the dark it didn’t look red, but the nubby feel of it assured him it was what he was looking for.  He stuffed it into his jumpsuit pocket and ran as fast as he could toward the city, the glow of the highway guiding his steps.

Finally Reagent gets pasture. It's been a long haul and hard on a horse that's 27 years old. His legs were wrapped, and he was provided with periodic water on the seven hour trip. He was also allowed out of the trailer to graze by the road and get his balance back. Our grandchild would say, "My legs are wobbly."

As noted in "The Backyard Horse" it took him a couple of days to get over his fear of a new place. The biggest problem for any horse results from losing a friendly horse buddy, especially when there are no other horses close by. To resolve that difficulty, a few walks around his new neighborhood eased his horsey mind, because he could see that several other horses were only a hundred yards away but behind a raised trail that blocked his view.

The new owners are ecstatic. The children he will carry around his new environs can't wait to do their jobs. Seven year old Stephanie, a horse lover with good riding lessons under her belt, will exercise the old boy. Annika, her little sister, will throw the hay and sweet munchies into his feeder (never feed a horse from the hand because he won't know the difference between your fingers and a carrot). Danny boy couldn't wait to muck those little green apples.

Danny

  
Is this horse heaven, or what? Nine acres of pasture, an olympic size sand arena, and a real barn with a new horse buddy that will join him next week.  Time to play!

Horsing Around on the Beach

Hey, there's another trailer out here. More friends

Getting horses to play on the beach is easy when there are friends around. Riding in the sand is no problem, just heavy work.

Oxnard beach power plant

Oxnard beach at Fifth Street is still open to horses. The fencing along it protects nesting sea birds.

Checking the surf

It's time to play in the surf. Always expect the unexpected on a horse's first run on the beach. It's wise to dismount, under these brand new conditions.

I trust you. I just don't trust attack waves

When Shay hit the surf, she bounced away in the wrong direction ending up chest deep in the waves. She bounced again and decided to stand still.

Nooooo!

Regaining a hold on the reins (which I dropped when she exploded), I led her back to visit with Rhett, her best friend.

Don't leave me Rhett

Shay discovered solid ground under those waves. Not so bad after all, huh? K, Let's play in the surf.

Splish - Splash; but don't drink the water

A couple more visits and we'll be able to ride right into the water. I'll still wear my chaps for traction. I don't doubt Shay will love running in the surf soon enough.

 
Salt and sand finish and two very tired horses. Shall we do it again; have another day at the beach? 

The Pipe, continued . . .

Trip didn’t return to his duty station. He was determined to follow the aliens. Rushing down a side hall of the spaceport, he reached the exit to the city’s main road out. When he arrived at the dome’s perimeter, he realized he’d forgotten his cover sheet. He spotted the four vagrants less than a hundred yards ahead of him on the road, their black shapes distinct against the silver avenue. He hesitated following them knowing that if he went outside without his protective sheet he would risk serious injury. Besides, without it, the transparent dome’s alarm would sound as it had when the aliens had entered the city.

That’s it, he thought, the aliens had come into the city unharmed. Perhaps he would be safe for a short time. He stepped through the dome’s skin and ran to catch up.

The children heard Trip’s rapid footfalls on the road and turned to face him. “Why are you following us; don’t you have duties to attend?” asked Reema.

The older cadet sneered, “Trying to get away from us?”

“You have no business with us,” said Kraft, “If I were you, I’d get back to the city.” Kraft stared up and down the cadet’s unprotected torso.

“I have questions. Where’s the alien ship? What star system are they from?” He flicked his head in the direction of the two strangers.

The two children stared down at their feet, letting Kraft handle the questions. Since they had already reached the black upside-down tree, they knew the tunnel through the mountain lay just above them.

Reema pointed secretly to an almost invisible trail uphill. She broke a small twig from the tree and handing it to Jiro whispered, “It will open the portal.” Then she stepped between Trip and the new friends and said, “If you don’t cover quickly, Trip, you’ll die here.”

Trip still wanted answers. Kraft’s telling him that the aliens knew the sun was Alberio didn’t prove they were from the local star system. They looked alien and they weren’t telepaths. He needed more answers. “If the aliens are local, let them prove it,” he reached past Reema and grabbed Sanaa’s protective sheet.”

“Trip! What are you doing?” Reema was so distressed her telepathic shriek overcame the ultraviolet solar bombardment. Her mind screamed at the children. “Run!”

Before Trip could pull the pliable protective sheet over himself the children had disappeared up the trail. Kraft and Reema were already racing back to the city leaving Trip standing alone. He watched them disappear inside the dome, but didn’t follow. Instead, he began a search for the aliens who he knew couldn’t have gone far. He followed the road hoping that, at the bend, he would find their hidden spaceship.

But there was no spaceship. Only one of the black city ships passed overhead flying away from the dome. He retraced his steps to the black tree and began a more careful search. He circled its dark shape, fanning outward and upward, until he stumbled onto the almost invisible trail between the rocks. On one of the more jagged outcroppings he found a small scrap of red cloth. “Her shirt,” he thought. “So they came this way!”