Elephant Graveyard

ELEPHANT GRAVEYARDS         

The clock radio alarm was set to an all news station radio so that I could hear the traffic report as I awoke. My wife ran her hand down my arm, soft and warm, and asked if I wanted the first shower.

            “Ok, I’ve got a studio session first thing.” I rolled my tongue over my teeth. A thin film of goo covered my them and crunchy things in my eyes reminded me that I’d neglected my bedtime routine again.

            Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed I smacked Rex, our two-year old golden retriever, with my foot. “Sorry pal.” I stroked his head with both hands and nuzzled my face into his.

            “Hey save some for me.” Polly ran her toe down my back.

            “Trust me, you don’t want me kissing you right now.” I said, but I grabbed her foot and kissed her toe.

            “Do you really have to be there on time?” She pulled me back on the bed with her leg.

            “Studio time costs sixty dollars a minute. Am I really worth that much?” I said, rubbing my unshaven face against her smooth calf.

            “Would I have married you if you weren’t? What if I write a note to your orchestra?” She ran her hands through my hair gently scratching my scalp with her fingernails the way I liked. I took I a deep breath.

            “Ok, I’ve got to go or I’m going to have sixty people and a team of lawyers after me.” I kissed Polly’s leg and went to the shower.

            “Honey, I’m ten times the lawyers they are.” Polly said as she laughed and went downstairs to make us tea and coffee.

            After a quick breakfast I loaded my giant portfolio of sheet music and a disk with all the charts in electronic form for the orchestra and stepped out the door.

            “Don’t forget to pick up fish if you want it for dinner.” Polly said. I kissed her and walked to the car.

            “I’ll get some.” I said, then stopped dead in my tracks.

            There was something wrong in the front yard.

            “Honey, didn’t the lawn service come yesterday? What did they do?” Polly walked on the lawn. The grass had grown higher than her ankles overnight.

“John, they mowed it yesterday. I saw it! It was mowed close to the ground, an inch or less. How could it grow back overnight?” She bent down and ran her fingers through the verdant tufts.

            “I don’t know. I have to go.” I said.

It was a mystery I’d have to solve later.

            On the hour drive to the recording studio I listened to the synthesized version of the film score I’d written and re-written over the past three months. I’d be conducting it with a live orchestra this morning. As I drove I conducted with my right hand wishing I’d had more time to rewrite some of the passages. I tried to put any misgivings out of my head. Today was the culmination of months of work at the keyboard and with my writing partner, bringing the director’s vision for his film to life with sound.

            The car ahead of me slammed on the brakes and swerved left to avoid the cement truck in front of it. I slammed my brakes on and hoped the person behind me was paying attention.

 “Oh just great…damn!”

Traffic ground to a halt on both sides of the four-lane freeway. Something was blocking traffic on the road ahead and cars were bumping over the obstruction. When I got to it five minutes later I stared at the obstruction in disbelief. A huge tree root had pushed through the asphalt of the four-lane highway and was acting as a natural speed bump.

“Only in L.A.” I said aloud.

After I got past it I drove as fast as I could to make up for lost time. I turned the radio on listening for a traffic report and caught the end of the seven o’clock headlines.

            “…largest nuclear powered aircraft carrier in the world. The ship was on routine patrol in the pacific launching carriers from its football field sized flight deck. There was no warning and the ship sank in less than a minute. Ships accompanying her said that air bubbles seemed to appear almost instantly under the enormous ship, sending it to the bottom. The president is calling for an investigation and…”

            I turned off the radio and played a section of the film score that was particularly complex for me to conduct. The musicians hired by the film studio were the best in the country and they could perform a two-hour film score, sight unseen, almost perfectly. They were paid well and expected their conductor to know exactly what he wanted when they got there. It was only my second major film and in this town good reputations were worth more than gold. There could be no screw-ups. The saying was “If at first you don’t succeed, you’re fired.” A wave of relief and nervous anticipation came over me as I pulled into the parking lot of the recording studio.

            “Good morning John, ready to make some magic today?” Asked Kevin, the film’s director. An artist I admired and hoped to work with again.

            “Good to go Kevin. Are all the players here?” I asked.

            “No, we’re pushing the time back an hour because there’s been a highway collapse, two clarinetists, a bassist, three violinists, and a recording engineer called and said they’re finding alternate routes. Did you catch it on the news?” He asked.

            I told him about the speed bump and said. “No, I’m going to get set up. It’s going to be a great day!”

I spoke with more enthusiasm than I felt. Starting late was a bad omen.

            Rick, my writing partner who’s themes I orchestrated, was waiting at the piano in the studio playing some of the themes for the orchestral players who were already there, warming up.

            “Morning buddy! Ready to rock?” He asked.

            “Yes, can I get an intern to hand out parts?” I said as I pulled out hundreds of pages of sheet music for the orchestra.

            “Bobby! Cindy!” Yelled Rick.

            The recording studio interns put the music in front of each player and double checked to make sure everyone had exactly what they needed and in the proper order. Bobby had a hurt look on his face when I went to each music stand to check his work but time was money and I didn’t want to waste any of the studio’s budget having players searching for the right piece of paper.

            Five minutes before the extended deadline was up the missing musicians arrived. They looked frantic as they ran in, unpacked and tuned up, but we were soon up and running. As soon as we played the first note the morning’s craziness was forgotten. For the next four hours I rehearsed and recorded the music cues, completely focused on the task at hand. I relaxed forgot the cost of studio time, highway problems, and immersed myself in getting the music just right with the orchestra.

            Before I knew it the first half of the day was over. We took a break for lunch and I spoke with the director about fine tuning a few spots they had concerns about. On the way back from lunch I overheard the studio’s secretary telling one of the interns that her potted plant had grown five inches overnight and broken through the bottom of the terra cotta planter on her desk. After lunch we went through another three hours of recording and called it a day. I thanked the orchestra, shaking hands and catching up with musicians I’d worked with before.

            “Did you hear about the expressway?” Asked Linda, a flautist I’d known since college.

            “No, was there an earthquake?” I asked.

            “It was the weirdest thing John, an entire section of the expressway overpass sank six feet right into the ground. They’re saying that ants or termites, maybe gophers, dug up so much of the ground underneath it that the supports failed. It sunk almost straight down. Isn’t that weird?” She said.

            “Was anyone killed.” I asked. Trying to remember which route Polly took home.

            “No, thank God.” Linda touched the cross hanging around her neck.

            I hadn’t talked to God in a while and felt a pang of guilt about not attending our church in several weeks, because of work.

            The rest of the day was spent in the control booth with the recording engineer and the director, listening to what we’d done and making notes for the sound mixer who would combine the music with the other audio tracks into a cohesive whole. Not surprisingly, some music I thought would work well had to be changed or cut. Other cues I thought inconsequential made specific scenes come alive. I left exhausted and satisfied.

            In L.A. traffic was at best something to grin and bear. At worst it was a force to be reckoned with. On this night it was apocalyptic. The news reported that giant tree roots had erupted out of the ground. Many of these had broken water mains, gas lines, underground power cables, cable television junctions, and fiber optic networks. Entire sections of the city were without power. I couldn’t get a phone call to Polly to see if she was ok, never mind what kind of fish she wanted.

            My normal forty-minute commute lasted three and a-half-hours. Every mile or so a tree root thrust upward from the ground and stopped traffic dead. The news was reporting that three more military ships had gone down and highways and bridges all over the country were collapsing into the ground. Many of the radio stations I listened to were simply not broadcasting. Motorists were pulled over onto the side of the road talking, crying, and hugging. One family whose mini-van was filled and topped with camping equipment had set up their tents in the median strip and seemed to be handing out meals to stranded motorists. Creeping anxiety about Polly muted the effect of that positive image. Seeing her car in front of the house brought tears to my eyes. She was my everything. I parked and prepared to run inside when I saw them.

            In the car’s headlights were four sets of reflective canine eyes, wolves. Three of them sat looking at me while one circled my car, urinating on the tires. I could see lights on in the house and a shadow, Polly, in the kitchen, probably making dinner. “God, please don’t let her come out now.” I said as I hit the speed dial on our cell phone praying it would work.

            “John is that you?” She answered. I could see her moving to the front hallway.

            “Polly don’t…” I screamed as the signal cut out and I saw the wolves’

 ears perk up at the sound of the screen door opening. I jumped out and looked around wildly for something to defend the woman I loved.

            “Get back in the house!” I screamed and ran towards her.

            “John it’s fine.” She said in a placid voice as the wolves came up and began licking my hands and sniffing me like domestic dogs. One of them was jumping around Polly who pushed it off of her as if it were a pet. “Down boy!” She said, and the ferocious looking animal ran over to me and jumped on my chest licking my face.

            “What’s going on?” I asked in bewilderment.

            “John all kinds of weird stuff’s been happening, all over the world, not just here. My parents called and are freaked out because Tom’s on a frigate in the North Atlantic with the Navy.” Polly and I held each other as the wolves circled around us, vying for our attention.

            “I heard about the ships. I forgot that your brother…” I began.

            “I’m so glad you’re home. Have you had dinner yet?” She asked and we walked back to the house.

            “What about the wolves?” I asked.

            “When I went to leave for work this morning they jumped out from around the car and started licking my hand. I was afraid at first but there have been lots of weird reports about animals. These seem ok, for now.” She petted one of the creatures and we went inside.

            After a quick dinner of veggie stir-fry we sat down on the couch and filled each other in on the day’s events.

            “I never made it to work. Two blocks from the house the on-ramp to the freeway collapsed into the ground. It didn’t really matter because the courthouse was closed. Thousands of birds kept flying through the doors, not just ordinary birds John, Tropical birds. There’s going to be something on it on the news. Nature’s out of control.” Polly took a sip of water.

            I looked out the window for the wolves but got another surprise.

            “Honey, is that a tree in the middle of the lawn?” I asked, pointing to the three-foot tall plant that looked like a miniature orange tree.

            “Yes, it most certainly is. I saw it sprout from nothing to what you see there. By the way, the studio called and said not to bother coming in tomorrow because mountain lions have taken over the parking lot. They didn’t attack anyone, they’re just there.” She lay her head on my shoulder.

            “You’re kidding about that right?” I asked.

            “No, they were using your boss’s tires as a scratching post. Our neighbor, Bob, had a dozen condors on his roof and a brown bear walked down the street at noon.” She snuggled up closer to me.

            “Preacher Bob? How’s he doing?” I asked.

            “He made us a plate of cookies and told us to come over for coffee. The condors weren’t bothering him and the wolves seem to like him too. He told me that he’s been having conversations with some of the animals. I don’t know if he’s on any meds.” A vein of worry laced the marble of her composure.

            “You think he’s losing it? Maybe he just misses his wife and can’t stand retirement?” I asked.

            “No, he showed me some of the stuff he’s been writing, magazine articles and chapters of a text book on pastoral counseling. Bob’s lucid but believes God’s messengers are appearing in the form of animals.” She said.

            “Like a heavenly Dr. Doolittle? I think we should get in touch with his daughter, do we have her Christmas card around? Her address was on it.” I asked.

            “I’ll find it later. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to go to work tomorrow. This is going to screw up the economy worse than 9/11.” She said, uncharacteristically pessimistic.

            Polly fell asleep on my shoulder as I watched the news, cable was down and we resorted to watching one grainy image from a station that was close to us. All over the world nature was reclaiming lost ground. Flora was erupting up through the concrete sidewalks of Wall Street. At the Pentagon oaks had broken through the parking lot, preventing generals from executing their plans for peace and war. Small and large, animals roamed the streets of major cities, forcing cars off the road, sniffing children, acting as if they had just passed papers on the planet and were waiting for their furniture to arrive.

            Their activity wasn’t all benign. Several hundred fishing trawlers had been sunk by killer whales. Four of the largest logging companies in the Pacific Northwest had closed down operations because bears and coyotes had attacked their workers. Nuclear submarines from China, England, France, Russia, and the U.S. had been reported missing, in addition to the aircraft carriers we’d lost earlier in the day. Most countries had recalled their navy’s ships to the nearest friendly port. In Africa a group of poachers had been trampled to death by elephants and rhinos they’d been stalking. The only survivor reported that a pride of lions had chased them into the path of the oncoming pachyderms.

            The most intriguing stories were of people whose lives had been saved by the intervention of animals. A girl in Lebanon was chased out of the path of a drunk driver by, of all things, a flock of pigeons. Lost hikers in Alberta were found when Canadian Mounties were herded towards their location by a thousands of caribou. A fisherman who had a heart attack off the coast of Melbourne had his small dingy pushed to a crowded beach, by sharks. Most unusual were the reports of fruiting trees popping up everywhere. Bananas, pears, peaches, plums, avocados, grapefruit, and all kinds of nut trees were appearing overnight where no seed had been planted. There were even varieties of fruit no botanist could identify.

            Although the reporters were trying hard to be objective, what they weren’t providing, a reasonable explanation, was filled in by every kook from here to Tokyo. Every explanation for nature’s rebellion, from UFO’s to fluoride in the water was put on the table. None of them sounded reasonable to me. There was something…mystical about what was happening, perhaps not religious, but supernatural. My father would have called it a “numinous” experience. It was as though the world was returning to the Garden of Eden.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a gardener and as I recalled the first Eden ended badly.

            After the news I woke Polly up to go upstairs to bed. Just after we lay down the power went out. The normal sounds of our modern house, the refrigerator compressor, air conditioner, my computer downloading music files for tomorrow’s work, went silent. A sound like leaves rustling and a gentle grinding sound replaced the mechanistic background noises. I listened for a while, hoping that a tree root couldn’t rip through the foundation of our house. The silence was keeping me awake. After two hours of rolling around I knew sleep was out of the question so I went downstairs to cook whatever meat was in the fridge before it went bad. Of course our electric stove didn’t work but the gas grill outside had a full tank of propane.

            On the deck, grilling steak and chicken at two in the morning, I watched in horrified fascination as two trees sprouted up out of the ground over the course of an hour. How could anything grow that quickly? The wolves came to visit me and I cut a piece of steak off for each of them, throwing it in their direction. The creatures came over and licked my hands but did not take the meat. This was abnormal behavior for any meat eating animal and a bible verse about the lion and lamb laying down together eating straw bubbled up from my subconscious. I cut a piece of steak off, put it in my mouth and chewed, then spit it out. A piece of teriyaki chicken met the same fate. Although it smelled great and I was hungry, I could not swallow it. Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me. I turned of the grill and wrapped the meat in aluminum foil.

            I was about to go inside when I saw our neighbor Bob, “Pastor Bob” as we called him, sitting on his screened in porch lit from below by a battery powered lamp.

            “Are you alright Mr. Kenny?” I asked. My voice sounded too loud. Was it because all the electronic sounds we’d lived with were suddenly missing?

            “I’m fine. Grilling some steaks? Good idea because there may not be proper food in the grocery stores for some time. Maleldil seems to be using the creatures of the world to prevent our self-destruction.” He said.

            I spoke with a lowered volume. “Um…yes. Nature’s out of control.” I said, trying to remember who “Maledil” was.

            “You should come over some time and talk to my friends, the animals. They have some amazing things to tell us if we’ll just listen. Tell your lovely wife I’m going to make more cookies for you. There’s no sense in letting things go to waste. Have you noticed that we’re losing our desire to eat the flesh of animals? They’re losing their taste for flesh as well.” Bob whispered something I couldn’t hear and made a gesture as if he were talking to someone. The only thing I could see was a dark shape in the corner of his porch. I heard a low grunt and wondered what kind of animal was on his darkened porch.

            “If you need anything just holler. Have you spoken to your daughter lately? She’s probably anxious to know that you’re alright sir.” I said.

            “All manner of things will be well. Maleldil promises us that.” Said Bob, enigmatically.

The name “Maleldil” was from a story I’d read

 “I’ll check on you tomorrow sir.” I said, and went inside.

            The next morning I awoke to find Polly vomiting over the toilet.

            “What’s wrong?” I asked, wiping her face with a damp washcloth.

            “I wasn’t going to tell you until I was sure but I’m late…really late.” Said Polly.

            “You’re pregnant?” I smiled down at her. “I thought you couldn’t…”

            “No way, no how. That’s what the doctor said. I was born without tubes. Maybe plants and animals aren’t the only things reproducing at a rapid rate?” She said, raising an eyebrow.

            After she felt better I told herthere was enough heated water left in the tank for us to shower together. I suspected it would be the last hot shower for a long time.

             “We’re lucky the water’s still running. We should get some of those empty gallon jugs and fill them up.” Polly said.

            “I’ll go to the store and see if I can get some food. Although if the fruit trees growing in the yard have been blooming at the same rate then we should have something to eat.” I looked out the window and indeed, there were little fruits on trees that were no taller than my knee the day before.

            “Driving will be difficult since there are families of skunks, raccoons and possums living in our cars. I wonder how they got in?”  Polly pointed to the open doors of our vehicles. A pile of black and white fur sat nestled in the driver’s seat, skunks.

            “Ok, someone doesn’t want us driving around. Polly, do you think this is God’s doing? I didn’t expect the apocalypse to happen this way. Isn’t there supposed to be an antichrist and a temple and the mark of the beast, and lots of locusts and stuff?” I asked.

            “Maybe God’s being merciful to us? I wish the television worked.” She sighed then walked outside, picking a peach from the tree there.

            “Tastes great!” She said around a mouthful of it.

            I picked one and took a bite. It was the most delicious peach I’d ever tasted. “Heaven on earth.” I said.

            Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of a brown shape moving towards Bob’s porch.

            “Oh no. Tell me that’s a dog.” Said Polly.

            Bob opened the porch door and a small Brown Bear walked up the stairs and onto his screened in porch. The door swung shut with a loud bang behind them.

            “Did he just let a bear onto his porch?” I whispered.

            “Listen, he’s talking to it.” Replied Polly. She licked her fingers of peach juice absentmindedly.

            Bob sat in his chair, his back to us, talking to the bear, who made animal sounds back to him.

            “So, how long do we have?” He asked.

            The bear growled and made a short cough.

            “And if they refuse the gift, what will happen to them?” Bob spoke, with concern born of years of pastoral care in his voice.

            More growling and grunting sounds came from the bear.

            “I see. Well, prayer is what I’m going to do. Prayer and witness.” Said Bob.

            I motioned for Polly to follow me inside.

            “He’s cracking up.” I said.

            “You think so?” Polly asked.

            “He thinks he can talk to the bear.” I said.

            “He was talking to the bear.” Polly said.

            “Don’t get all lawyer-like on me. It’s not like the bear was talking back.” I said.

            “You didn’t hear what the bear said?” Polly asked.

            “Very funny, we should call his daughter. Did you find her number?” I opened a draw and looked through stacks of Christmas cards from the previous year.

            Polly picked up the phone. “No dial tone.” She opened her cell phone and got through to someone from her office.

            “I can go to work but unless I want to walk up twenty flights of stairs I should probably stay home. I knew I shouldn’t have given up on going to the gym. Anyway the whole city’s shut down John, no electricity, only emergency services. Only running water seems to be working, thank God for that. Do you need to call the studio? The battery is fully charged but if we have no power it will only last three hours.” She held it out to me.

            “I’ll call later. If there’s no power to the city it’s useless to go there. At any rate who knows what shape the roads are in?” I said.

            “There’s a battery powered radio in the basement. Want me to get it out?” She asked.

            “Sure, hey look! I found Bob’s daughter’s address and phone number. I’ll give her a call at her cell phone number.” I said.

Polly went downstairs and came back with the radio and some books. Bob’s daughter, Susan, didn’t answer so I left a message telling her that her dad was alright and that she should call us back if she had anything she wanted to convey to him. I turned off the phone the preserve the batteries.

We turned on the radio and found only two stations airing programs. One was a Mexican station. Neither of us spoke Spanish. The other was an AM religious station whose announcer was simply reading the bible cover to cover without interruption.

“What are we going to do? The food in the freezer is thawing out.” Polly opened a pint of ice-cream which was turning to liquid. She poured some of it into two glasses and we toasted Vermont’s most famous dairy product.

“Isn’t it a little early for ‘Chunky Monkey?’” I asked Polly.

“I’m pregnant, it’s allowed. You want to grill this fish and steaks? I thought we had more in here.” She asked, pulling frozen food out of the dark freezer.

            “I suppose.” I said. I hadn’t told her about not being able to eat the meat I’d grilled early that morning.

            I got out the meat and grilling supplies and put in on the deck, where we received another surprise.

            In the space between our back yards a small stream had sprung up. Two feet at its widest, several wolves, a bear, and some birds drank its clear water. Bob was kneeling down filling a canteen. The wolves were jumping back and forth over the stream.

            “The water is pure and clean John. Take some home because…” Bob’s comments were completed by Polly.

            “John there’s no water from the taps!” She yelled from the kitchen.

            “I know! Come out here.” I yelled back.

            She came out we both knelt down to drink from the stream. I almost said, “Shouldn’t we test it?” But something restrained my tongue. The water was cold and pure.

            “Maleldil said he would give us streams of living water to drink from if we ask.” To illustrate his point Bob cupped some water in his hand and let it fall through his fingers back into the stream.

            “Do you think God is responsible for all this Bob? I mean, who else could it be?” I asked.

            “The real question is do you think God is renewing the earth for a short time? And if he is, what are you going to do about it?” He asked.

            “I’m willing to believe God’s doing this. I’ve just never been that religious.” I drank the water

“It’s good!” Said Polly, filling a plastic container from the stream.

“Maleldil wants us all to drink from his springs.” Bob said as he sat there petting the wolves. A squirrel jumped on his shoulder and pawed playfully at his wispy white hair.

            “I pray for your and your wife without ceasing. The time is short and you must choose.” He said, closing his eyes, bowing his head, and speaking a prayer under his breath.

            Polly and I left him sitting there like St. Francis, among the wolves. I wanted to ask him who “Maleldil” was.

            Darkness fell. I realized our candle supply was meager. There was a convenience store about a mile down the road. I decided to get whatever supplies I could purchase, candles topping the list. My bike, which had lain dormant since I began my latest job, needed only air in the tires.

            “Hey, put this on.” Polly handed me the dusty helmet she’d bought me for my birthday and I grimaced.

            “But mom only the nerdy kids have to wear helmets!” I whined.

            “Seriously John, we don’t even know if we can get to the hospital. Don’t take any unnecessary risks.” She kissed me then watched me wobble the first few yards down the street. I waved back at her.

            It was a good thing I owned a mountain bike because even the side streets had new vegetation growing through them. After a near spill- I swerved to avoid a family of ducks- I saw the little strip mall where the convenience store was. It was burning and people were walking through broken display windows, looting. Two men with masks on their faces were shooting at two other men. At the strip mall’s shoe store a dozen people were walking out with armfuls of boxes. Two women were fighting over a pair of black leather pumps. One man was pushing a shopping carriage full of merchandise towards a waiting car. It reminded me of the riots in ’94.  I was about to turn around and go home when two men approached me, unsmiling.

            “Nice bike, do you think we could have it?” One of them asked.

            “Uh…I guess.” I said, getting off of it and walking away slowly.

            “Going somewhere?” The other asked.

            “Home.” I said.

            The first one walked behind me. This was a situation I hadn’t anticipated.

            “I think you should take us to your house, you could feed us.” Said the one in front of me.

            “That’s not going to happen.” My heart was pounding furiously as I thought of Polly, alone at home.

            The first blow to my face was a glancing one, but it put me on my knees. Scoring music didn’t build muscle. The two men beat me mercilessly. Kicked, bloodied and bruised, I lay on the ground expecting to die. Breathing hurt and my left eye was swollen shut. They went through my wallet and laughed at pictures of Polly as they spoke what they were going to do her when they got to our house. I raised myself on one arm in a last ditch effort to stop them when I heard the thunder.

            At first I thought it was an earthquake, then I saw what made the ground tremble. A herd of horses ran towards me, breaking like a wave around me. One of the thieves went down in a heap and was trampled mercilessly. The other ran into the street where it was surrounded and danced on by three dappled horses. The herd moved towards the looters at the strip mall. I decided to cut my losses and get home.

            Apart from a bent spoke my bike was fine but hands shook as I rode down our street. The thought of losing Polly, especially now that she was pregnant, terrified me. I couldn’t steer straight. Tears rolled down my cheeks and I got off the bike, walking it down the street.

            Two horses, a wolf, several dogs and cats, and a flock of sparrows walked and flew in front of and beside. The animals were very vocal, making sounds to one another that in cadence and inflection mimicked human speech patterns.

            “God, thank you…for saving me.” I said to the horse on my left.

            The horse whinnied and pawed the ground. The wolf and dogs barked and took turns licking my hands. I patted them and cried a little more.

            “God…if this is you helping me. Thank you! And please help us to know what to do with our lives…show us what you want. Help Polly to be ok…” My voice cracked and I lay the bike down and cried.

            After a while birds began hopping around me, a dog lay its head in my lap, and one of the horses pushed its nose into my hair. I dried my eyes on my shirt. I always felt better after a good cry.

            Polly was waiting for me on the front steps.

            “Oh God what happened?” She held my face in her hands and looked me over. “Did you get mugged?”

            “Basically, these horses came out of nowhere and trampled the robbers to death. I need some ice…or something.” I said.

            Polly touched a bruise on my face and I winced.          

            “I saw a herd of horses running down the street about an hour ago, so that’s where they were going…” She led me inside where she cleaned me up and put salve on my cuts.

            “I didn’t get anything. The strip mall was being looted. Some stores were burning. It was awful. People are behaving like…” I almost said “animals” but that wouldn’t be fair to the wolves and horses who’d rescued me.

            “It’s probably like that all over the country. I finally got a radio news station. People are terrified and some will take whatever they can. It’s the sinful heart of man John. Even if God gives us everything we need to live, some people will still choose to do evil.” Polly said, putting iodine on my knee where I fell.

            After I was cleaned up she handed me a warm chocolate chip cookie. I ate it slowly. My lip was split and could only take small bites.

            Polly said, “People are going to have to choose whether to follow God’s ways or not. We should read the bible and pray tonight John, before it gets dark.”

I was about to tell her that we should call our parents when I saw a face at the window. It was a very large gorilla and its mouth was moving in an imitation of human speech. I dropped my cookie and jumped backwards, knocking over the kitchen chair. Polly came to the window, opened it and spoke to the creature.

            “Hi, is everything alright?” She asked the gorilla.

            In response it made a few grunts and a gesture with its hand.

            “You don’t think so?” Polly asked.

            The gorilla waved its hand my way and made more sounds.

            I looked at Polly and asked, “You’re not talking to that ape are you?”

            “What do you think?” She asked.

            “You can talk to animals?” I asked as the ape scratched its chest.

            “We live in a different world John.” She said to me. To the ape she said, “See you later.” The ape left and she closed the window.

            I watched the ape amble off in the direction of Bob’s house.

            “Polly, why can’t I understand the animals like you and Bob? “

“Everything is going to be fine, different, but fine.” Polly took some fruit from a bowl and poured us water. “Ask God to help you and he will. Maleldil wants us all to enjoy his presence.”

I wanted to know whom Polly thought Maleldil was but my head hurt and I was tired. I didn’t know if I had a concussion but I did know that you weren’t supposed to sleep if you had one. To ward off sleep I spent the next several hours playing the upright piano in our living room. All of my thousands of dollars worth of synthesizers and computers were next to worthless without electricity but the acoustic piano would endure. I played my favorite pieces letting my hands lead where my mind had forgotten.

            “I like that. Is it Bach?” Polly asked.

            “Yes, it’s a prelude and fugue. I know a bunch of them.” I played another piece from memory.

            As the sun cast long shadows across the landscape I played through the pieces I knew from memory and loved most. Polly sat on the couch and read or sat next to me and stroked my back. At the end of the last piece I let the final chord ring until the sound completely died away before I let my foot off the damper pedal. We sat in silence for a while, enjoying the quiet as we had the sound.

            “We should go to Bob’s.” Polly whispered.

            My headache was gone and I felt a strange sensation come over me as we stood up to go. With each step I took I felt larger and more real, as if the person I had been was simply a shadow of who I truly was. I wanted to sing but no song could have done justice to the state I was in. You would think I was wondering if I’d had a head injury, but I knew I didn’t. Polly held my arm as we walked to Bob’s porch and out of the corner of my eye she too seemed more solid, more real than we had been only moments earlier. She squeezed my arm as she had hundreds of times before only it sent shivers down my spine like the first time did it when we were first in love.

            As we walked across the lawn deer, bear, horses, wolves, dogs, crawling and creatures of all kinds danced around us. I could see Bob on his porch, lit from below by his lantern. The gorilla I’d seen earlier was sitting on the ground next to Bob and they were talking. I couldn’t understand the language but it was clearly a language and not the animal sounds I’d heard earlier.

            Polly and I went to the porch and sat at a table with Bob.

            “Were the cookies alright? Using the grill to cook everything seems to be a hit or miss affair. I burned all the french fries at lunch because I misjudged the heat. So how are you both?” Bob asked. “Oh, Henry wants to know if you can understand him John.”
            “I can’t. Am I supposed to? Can you?” I asked.

            “I can understand him but I didn’t know his name was Henry. His language sounds weird but I understand his meaning.” Polly said.

            “John do you love Maleldil?” Bob asked.

            “Who is this Maleldil anyway?” I asked.

            The gorilla made a noise like a laugh and then hooted at me.

            Bob said, “He’s the maker of the universe. I use the name a famous author gave him because his name’s been so misused recently that some of us wish to bring honor to it by only using it when we speak directly to him in prayer.”

            I understood they were talking about the Son of God my parents had taught me about growing up.

            “John, maybe it would help if you think of all the best things in the world and thanking him for them: freshly baked bread, the sound of laughter, your favorite piece of music, the color of your wife’s hair, books that made you wish you could write, a fresh breeze on a hot day, water from a new stream…”

            I closed my eyes and listened and as Bob went on talking a picture came into my mind of that good thing. At some point I began whispering the words “thank you” under my breath. My eyes opened and I saw it was the gorilla speaking the words now. I smiled at him and laughed as he said “bananas”.

            “So, you can understand me now!” Said Henry.

            “I can. What’s going on and what’s going to happen?” I asked.

            “The creation has been released for a short time John, to be what it was intended to. It won’t last however. Soon the grasses will stop growing back overnight and the fruit trees will cease to spring up everywhere. Talking animals will stop talking and be taken to laboratories to find out why we started talking. Your scientists will find nothing because miracles are outside of their worldview never mind their ability to measure.”

            “Will many people come to believe in God because of all that’s happened?” Polly asked.

            “Some have been turned from their path of destruction. Many thousands have been reminded that they are not the masters of their universe. Many millions have begun questioning their unbelief. In answer to your question yes. But I must warn you that the bent men of the world will soon begin to explain away everything you’ve seen and heard. They will say that no animal can speak and that a naturalistic explanation is required. It will all be quite logical and sensible to most people in the world. Some people, whose hearts will become even harder towards the things of God, will double their efforts to destroy the work of God on earth.”

            I asked, “Does everything have to go back to the way it was? I mean, I miss my computer and my job, but this is…bliss.”

            Henry said, “And someday you will enter into the eternal bliss. But this is only a slight reprieve before judgement comes upon the world. You will shortly go back to your normal life. You should remember to pray and read the bible together in the mornings and at night.”

            Bob said, “I’d be happy to have you over for my Tuesday night bible study. We’re going through the book of James, you know, faith without works?”

            “We’d love to go. We intended to start going to church again but got sidetracked along the way.” Said Polly.

            Bob said, “The road to perdition is paved with good intentions.”

            “It’s paved at least!” I laughed.

            “Let’s have some of that bread I made and some wine.” Said Bob, leading us into the kitchen. Henry the gorilla followed behind us asking about apples and carrots.

            Bob lit four white candles and they cast a warm glow in the room. Bob brought out a plate of freshly baked bread and a bottle of red wine.

            “None for me thanks, the baby doesn’t need the alcohol.” Polly said, and poured herself a tall glass of spring water.

            The old man’s hands, gnarled with arthritis, broke the round loaf as he spoke the words uttered two thousand years ago that brought an already symbolic meal to a completely new level of depth and meaning. Time seemed to stand still in that little room. As we consumed the bread and wine we were in turn consumed by peace and joy. Bob read from the bible and we each took turns praying. Night turned into early morning. The candles had burned to half their length when Polly and I left tired and euphoric.

            That night I dreamt, in ultra vivid detail, of horrible events. A comet one- quarter mile in diameter and undetected because it came in the direction of the sun, crashed into the Atlantic ocean off the coast of Boston, sending that city under feet of boiling water.

            A plague of flesh eating bacteria spread by air from person to person killed hundreds of thousands of people daily. A voice in my head informed me that before it ran its course the plague would kill half a billion people, most of them children.

            Unchecked by authority, the worst of man’s violent impulses were let loose upon civilization. Rape, murder, theft, malicious beatings, child abuse, and torture were left unchecked. It was as if the collective conscience of humanity suddenly left and every other person became a sociopath.

            After each section of the dream I awoke crying because I remembered how perfect the last evening with Polly had been. I cried because I realized that despite the perfection of what Maleldil had given us the past few days that humanity would reject him and his gifts. Polly had similar dreams which she said were too terrible to speak of, but we were able to comfort each other.

            After the nightmares came dreams of something good coming from the sky down to earth. I remembered seeing beautiful images in my mind but I could not remember what they actually looked like when I awoke.

            That morning, all the appliances came to life at the same time. The clock radio was pumping out earsplitting rap, the dishwasher, computers, air conditioner, televisions, lights, and a lone hairdryer left forgotten by Polly announced the return of the 21st century. We shut all of them off but instead of the expected peace and silence another sound presented itself.

            Helicopters and jets were flying overhead, somewhere. I heard the “rat-a-tat-tat” of machine guns. Polly went to throw up in the toilet, morning sickness, and I went outside to get some fruit. The disappointment was as crushing as the day I found out I didn’t get into Juilliard.

            A brown carpet of tangled dead grass lay across not only our lawn but everyone’s in the neighborhood, throwing a quilt of brown over our block. The little fruit trees, which we had not asked for yet treasured nonetheless, were shriveled and desiccated. Dead oranges, mangoes, pears, apples, and dates lay under the blighted groves, eaten by maggots.

            The hackles of my neck went up and I sensed, rather than saw, the threat. One of the wolves was peering at me, hunched down and growling, from under Polly’s truck. I slowly backed into the house as the wolf advanced upon me, snarling as it went. I was almost at the door when it jumped towards me. I thought I was dead.

            A shot rang out and the once tame beast lay dead not ten feet from me.

            “That was close!” Said Bob from his porch.

            “What happened?” I asked.

            “The Lord giveth. The Lord taketh away.” He said, loading more slugs into his semi-automatic pistol.

            “I thought they were our friends?” I said, looking around for the bear and gorilla.

            “No as such, they were sent as a warning. I’m afraid our time of peace and harmony with the natural world had its intended effect and things will be going back to abnormal.” Bob walked over to me. “You alright?” He asked.

            “I wanted things to stay this way forever. It was so good.” I said.

            “Someday things will be like this again, only better.” He said and smiled at me.

            “Was it just to get our attention?” I asked.

            “Getting our attention was the purpose. Don’t say ‘just’ because for some people, getting their attention is the only thing that was going to save them.” He said.

            “What do we do now?” I asked.

            “First you should bury the wolf in your back yard, nice and deep so other critters don’t try and dig it up. Second, you should pray, go to church, love your neighbor, and tell people to repent while they have the chance. I don’t expect too many people to come around but we have to try. Finally, you should buy a new car.” He looked in the direction of my vehicle when he said this.

            “Why?” I asked.

            “Because the raccoons, possums, and skunks got into a brawl last night and the skunks and possums put up a good fight before the ‘coon did them in.” Bob chuckled and I started laughing so hard tears streamed down my face. It was sick but it was funny.

            “You’re a good neighbor Bob.” I said.

            “The other wolves are dead. The bear is gone and the gorilla won’t be coming back. Come over for steak tonight. I think you’ll find you’ve regained your taste for meat.”

THE END