sample: Prologue
The Sun is a powerful force in our Universe. It brings us light, warmth and a promise of a galaxy beyond the stars. Often we associate massive flashes of light with the reflection of our Sun's light bouncing off of another surface.
This is not always the case though, especially if you believe that we are truly not alone in the Universe. When we witness things that we can't readily explain we sometimes turn our heads and shrug our shoulders in a display of apathy.
A display such as this occurred on Friday January 29, 1982 at the Crater Lake National Park just outside of Chemult, Oregon. The snow had been falling steadily for a period of four days. The winds had been whisking about at 40 miles per hour.
Then there was one of those unnatural flashes of light. This created an eerie silence as a lanky boy, just nine years old, seemed to appear from out of that flash. If he had walked to this point there would have been a distinct trail in the newly fallen snow.
There was no trail and as a matter of fact the only tracks in the snow were the ones that outlined his feet where he was standing.
He began to trudge through the snow wearing what could only be described as dark brown long johns. He seemed dazed yet, at the same time, very clear about the direction that he was travelling. This boy with no identity or name seemed to be on a mission that would take him to places he had never been before.
His main goal was to reach Chemult, Oregon and he had no intention of stopping until he accomplished this. As strange as it seems the extreme cold seemed to have little or no effect on him at all.
Why Chemult? What was so special about this town located at an elevation of 4,758 feet above sea level in a frozen winter wilderness in Oregon?
The town of Chemult was first opened to the local traffic in 1926 and here in 1982, with its population of only 241, offered little in the way of comfort for a nine year old boy who was all alone. This journey, although prompted by something deep inside of him, did not provide a feeling of comfort and yet he had hoped that he would at least experience a feeling of accomplishment once he reached the town.
The wind was getting stronger and he noticed a small piece of yellow paper tattered and torn from whipping about in the snow. He only stopped long enough to pick up this paper.......… it read: .....With the winter season here there was a lot of fun to have. Travelling miles of open trails on snow mobiles skiing or simply hiking, but there are dangers of doing so. Please remember safety first. Do not travel alone and be sure someone knows where you are and where you are going before travelling our trails, and please read the safety rules and codes of ethics before hiking the trails...
Nightfall was near and he had already walked 38 of the 40 miles needed to reach Chemult. He was just off of Route 97 when he spotted an old barn just about 200 feet NE of his present location. Making his way to the barn he went in and found it to be totally deserted, it was a perfect place to rest for the night.
Morning had arrived and once awake the boy started to look around the barn in the daytime light to see if there was anything that was lying in the barn that he could use to assist him on his trek.
Over in the far corner of the barn he found an old metal locked box that had long been forgotten. It was all rusted out and the key was nowhere to be found. After several failed attempts to open the box the young boy closed his eyes, sat back on his tired limbs and placed the palm of his right hand on top of the box. All of a sudden a dull red glow appeared from his right palm and the box lid flew open. Strangely enough once the red glow disappeared all that remained was a faint thin black outline where the outside of the red mark had appeared on his palm. Inside of the box he found several items all of which were unfamiliar to him and it was obvious that they had been there for a very long time.
The contents included a tattered passport with the picture missing, a pocket knife, a compass, an antique pocket watch with a broken crystal, a time-worn souvenir porcelain coffee mug with the words; "Atlanta, Georgia, The Peach State, A Perfect Place to Live", on it and a frayed map of the Metro Atlanta Area It was difficult to make out the name on the passport but with a couple of light brushes with his fingers he saw the name Jason Tredmore. This is now who this boy would becom
Chapter One The Journey Begins
(Friday January 29, 1982, Conway, Arkansas)
Skye Tsou just finished attending her third class of the day at Conway High School East. Almost out of nowhere she began feeling an unusual cramp in her abdomen area. This reminded her that just six months before this day her mother told her all about this discomfort. It is that special time when a young girl begins the process of becoming a young woman. As Skye made her way to the girl's bathroom she entered a stall and slowly lowered herself down onto the toilet.
For the most part Skye was a shy girl, like most girls at her age with dreams of making her mark in the world. Skye's parents Hiroshi and Phia were the type of people that prepared their children for the future as much as possible and always made sure that they were available to their children for support and guidance no matter what form that took.
Skye removed a sanitary pad from her handbag, one that she had kept with her for quite some time now, and placed it in her panties so that she could go about the completion of her school day without interruption. Moments later her first flow began and with the level of discomfort she was experiencing she had to brace herself by pressing her hands on the inner walls of the stall. An unusual dull red glow seemed to escape slightly from under her right palm. After about fifteen minutes when her pain had subsided she removed her right hand from the wall and noticed that there was a burn mark left in the place where she had placed the palm of her right hand. What seemed strangest of all was that the only proof that a red glow had appeared was the tiny black outline left on her palm from the place the glow had emanated from. How is it possible that she was able to leave such a mark without even feeling the intense heat needed to burn the wall of the stall?
(Friday January 29, 1982 936 Lakeshore Drive, Gadsden, Alabama)
We are at the home inhabited by Sarah Thompson, a woman who has been a dedicated foster mother for the past 17 years. Sarah currently has two African American foster children: Jesse Stevens (15 years old) and Archer Blackman (13 years old). She too is African American. These were good boys both in school and at home. These boys would do anything to help someone out. It was obvious that they acquired the same kind of loving heart that Sarah had. Both of these young men were "A" students and had lofty dreams for their goals for the future.
Jesse and Archer had been playing basketball in the back yard for about an hour when Jesse jumped for a ball that had bounced off of the backboard heading straight for him. As he caught it he found that his feet were a bit off balance which caused him to fall backwards. Holding onto the ball tightly with both hands, Jesse fell to the ground and noticed that the ball was starting to expand in a very uncharacteristic manner. All of a sudden without any notice whatsoever a red glow appeared from his right palm and the ball completely deflated as soon as it came in contact with the palm of his right hand.
The look on both of the boys' faces was one of overwhelming surprise and astonishment. "What the hell just happened, Jesse?" Archer asked. "Man I have no idea. Nothin like this has ever happened to me before." "Whoa, my right hand is tingling all over like someone is stickin' me with a hot needle" Jesse uttered.
Both boys jumped up and ran into the house to tell Mamma Sarah what had just happened.
She had been in the kitchen cooking supper yet by the time the boys got to tell her their story, the red glow was no longer there and all that remained was an almost insignificant thin, dark outline on Jesse's right palm.
(Friday January 29, 1982, 800 block of Willard St., Sturgis, South Dakota)
We are currently at the home of Stan and Francis Mercer in Sturgis, South Dakota. "Stan have you seen Robby this afternoon?" Francis says loudly. "I think he went out after school with Martin for a hike up at Bear Butte" (State Park), Stan replied.
Robby had gone to Bear Butte State Park, the location of "A Sacred Mountain , but he was all alone and quite bewildered as to why he was so drawn to go there on this day. It was almost as if he did not even have a choice in the matter.
The Park is the location of "A Sacred Mountain" which many American Indians see as a place where the "creator" had chosen to communicate with them through visions and prayers. Robby had been there hundreds of times before but this day was different. Why was he so irrepressibly drawn to the park?
Robby started to feel weak and disoriented and found that he needed to stop hiking and rest so that he could regain his equilibrium. He stooped down on one knee and then gently placed his right hand on his forehead. Without any warning the palm of his right hand started to glow red as if someone was pressing a warm pot against it. Strangely the red glow didn't even hurt yet after about 45 seconds the glow vanished and was replaced by a small black outline on the place where the glow had been.
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