Autumn Walks

Highway 53 is a dusty old highway which stretches from St. Jacqueline Minnesota to Merriton Minnesota. Flat, fairly straight and severely lacking scenery it stayed for the most part empty. It’s only users were the usual assortment of cargo trucks, semis, and occasional, when the weather was right, and the sun had set himself roughly above the tree line in the late evening, you would see a boy. Head hunched, and often kicking a stone he would idly make his way along the side of Highway 53.
Aaron was his name, and in short words he was tall, lanky, and had short cropped blond hair. His father was a local plumber in Merriton, and in a town of roughly 2,000 people that made him Merritons only plumber. There wasn’t a soul who hadn’t had need of Mr. Turner to clear a clogged drain, replace a toilet, or install a sprinkler system. Everyone knew him, and by association knew his son. So when Mrs. Turner disappeared with Mr. Turners savings the town was of course aware.
The house seemed over flowing with comforting visitors, and John was surprised that the Fridge had yet to cave in under the growing weight of casseroles, and salads. All the people made John feel uneasy, and for the week afterwards John avoided going home. Instead, the moment the bus dropped him off from school he would sit down on a fallen tree and wait for all the other children to walk out of sight, before hiding his backpack behind the mailbox, and heading out along Highway 53.
It was Autumn, and the leaves had begun to continue on with life. Gone were the simple sunny days of summer, and now was the time for changing. Aaron loved leaves, and thought it wonderful that even though they were all the same shimmering green all summer long. The cold crisp air of the coming winter would determine the true make up of a leaf. They could be anything from golden yellow, to a sapphire red. Like a snowflake, no two were the same, and even in their deaths they seemed to find their identity.
The walked calmed Aaron, and with each passing step he, unnoticing, stood a little straighter, and walked with his head up more. The trees lining old Highway 53 were old bent, and gnarled. Many of them beeches, oaks, and maples, with the occasional fir or pine. Nearly empty of leaves they looked somewhat hollow to him. Thousands of little branches all craning for the sky. No longer burdened with leaves that would catch the wind, or hold them down. They were no longer held back and with their new found freedom could almost catch the sinking sun.
Which too was moving through his daily routine. Never altering in pace nor course. Like the old grandfather clock at the base of the stairs he ran his rounds, and never seemed to care for anything else. Aaron wondered if the Sun ever wished to go somewhere else or to see something new like he did. Didn’t he get tired of the same thing everyday. What was it worth to march through life without ever caring for something else. Every day the exactly the same without ever hoping for something. What type of life was that and Aaron suspected he knew exactly how the sun felt. For he was no longer the bright yellow orb of lunchtime, but was red and dull with the appearance of fuzziness that Aaron felt too right before going to bed. The sun sank slowly towards the horizon, and in a brilliant show of hues he slowly sunk into the night.
With the sun no longer their to keep it warm, the wind became cold and cutting. She blew on Aarons neck as he slowly made his way along the road towards home. Aaron wondered why she was so cold, when only a few hours previous she’d been so calm, and warming. He tried to pull his jacket tighter around himself and it helped some, but the wind cut right through his jeans. The closer Aaron got to home the more harder the wind blew. She seemed persistent on getting him home, and blew all the colder, sharper against his back. Aaron was walking a little bit slower than a run by the time he got to the driveway, and found his backpack half buried under some newly fallen leaves.
He made his way up the porch, and into his house. The kitchen was still covered in dishes, and he could see the dim glow of the TV on his father’s socks. He wouldn’t bother waking him, he seemed to enjoy his sleep a lot lately, and Aaron was glad he’d chosen to do that rather than drink. As quietly as possible he made his way upstairs, and into his bedroom. It was the only room that still appeared lively. The rest of the house seemed cold, and empty now. Everything seemed cold, and empty. Why did she have to go? Was it because of him? If he’d been a better boy would he still have been able to keep his mom? Without changing his clothes Aaron crawled into bed, and pulling his teddy bear out from underneath it he curled up and cried.
He didn’t know what time it was when he awoke, and he wasn’t sure what woke him. Looking around the room it appeared normal, and unchanged. Poking his head out the door he could still hear his fathers snores coming from downstairs, and it wasn’t until he pulled his head back into the room and looked out the window opposite him did he see the falling snow. The first snow fall was always an expected sign of the coming winter, and Aaron shuddered to think it would get colder. Little did he realize as he climbed into bed. That life moves in circles, and even when everything seems cold, and empty, and when it seems certain that they will get worse before the end. There will always be a Spring on move, and with it a new birth of happiness, and warmth. Such is life, and so will it always be.

NaNoWriMo Prologue----

Prologue: Circling Mars

My whole life I’ve had an affair with the stars. I’ve never been able to explain it to well in words, and only those who share my passion seem able to understand those things for which there are no words. As Nergal 1 first orbited around Mars the entire crew and I shared a moment that can never be replicated in any form.
It was on Saturday April 7th 2085 at around 11:30pm EST when we made the first orbit around Mars, or that was the time that NASA received our radio transmission, and what has now been formally written in the world’s history books. Time works differently in outer-space though. Without the rising, and setting of the sun to mark our days the passing of time seemed to have become irrelevant. The trip to Mars was a scheduled eight months, but day by day, and week by week it all seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. Now was the moment that we (The Nergal crew) had talked about, trained for, and dreamed off. We’d been together as a crew for five years and now we were literally circling our dream. Time didn’t mean a thing to us then.
I was in my “Office” when Captain Quincy’s voice came on over the communication channels. He greeted everyone, and after formally stating the time, and date he announced that Nergal 1 had finally entered into orbit around the red planet. Even though I was alone at the time I would like to believe that everyone on that ship was anxiously holding their breath at the same moment that I was. Whether they all did or not I’ll never know, but it wasn’t until after a few seconds that the first hollers of joy began to echo their way along the ship’s tubular walkways. I excitedly hung my clipboard onto the wall and was on my way to find a window when Captain Quincy came back onto the comm. Line. He asked the entire crew to gather in the control room.
Being in on the ship’s inner chambers I was one of the last of the 10 man crew to arrive. Everyone was gathered at a one of the room’s many windows. All chattering excitedly as they took their closest look at Mars. I made my way over to the nearest window which was already occupied by the Missions two geologists Jeff Durham, and Jan Gretel. The view was amazing. We were located above the upper region of Tharsis, and in my very first glimpse I was the Solar Systems largest mountain, Olympus Mons. In my studies of Mars I’d seen pictures of this twenty-six kilometer high volcano I was left breathless as I looked down on it with my own eyes.
When the last of crew finally came together Captain Quincy caught our attention. In referencing my video journals I was able to find the following quote which is word for word what he said “Crew of the Nergal 1. You know I’ve never been one for long words, but I do feel it is order to say a few things concerning what is now happening to us. We are making history, and have been doing so for the past five years. Everything that we’ve worked for, and sacrificed since the planning of this mission now finds itself embodied right outside our window. It has been my honor, and privileged to work with some of the world’s finest scientists, aviators, and technicians. You truly are all one of a kind, and I would like to take a moment to honor someone who gave up more than us all for this mission. Someone who wishes he could’ve been here with us today, but has since passed on. Could we please just have a minute of silence for William England.” As we all turned our heads back to the windows in silence I still remember clearly my first thought. “It’s so red.”

John get's a visit.

John shaded his eyes from the summer sun as he watched the stranger make his way down the road. His body was hidden under long brown robes, and his face was covered with a hood. He carried a staff in his left hand. Which he leaned on heavily to make his way up along the dirt road. His pace was slow, and John couldn't help but wonder what he was doing here, or even how he'd gotten this far.

John's home was situated on the edge of a plateau in the middle of the Hiob desert. It was a desolate place, filled with nothing but miles of open red-rock plains, and half dead plants. John's home couldn't have been farther away than anything or anyone else, and that's just how he liked it. John rarely saw anyone, another thing he liked about his house, as it was over three hours with his Jeep to the nearest house, and another four after that to a town. John wondered what this man was doing so far away from everything, and on foot nonetheless.

John watched the robed figure slowly make his way up the road. When he was about fifty yards away John stood out of his rocking chair, and hollered "Hey! Old man, are ya lost?" The old man paused and looked over at John. John couldn't make out the man's face clearly underneath the robe, just a gray beard and a pair of tired looking eyes nestled under bushy eyebrows. He didn't say a word, but simply lowered his head again and began making his way from the road to the porch. John wanted to shout at the old man again. He wanted to drive him off his land and back out into the desert, but something in the old man's eyes kept him silent.

In only a few moments the man was standing on the first step of the porch. The man slowly raised his hand and pulled back his hood revealing a very old man. His hair was long and gray, blending seamlessly into the long beard which trailed down to his chest. His face balled up into wrinkles whenever he smiled. John however noticed that his smile never seemed to reach his eyes. Looking once more at them he saw what he recognized all to well, fatigue. Propping himself up on his staff the old man the old man raised his hand in salutation and said "Nope."

John had never been greeted by the word nope before. It took a moment for him to overcome his shock before he asked bewildered "Excuse me?"

The man shrugged his shoulders and explained "You asked if I was lost. Well I'm not. I've been actually traveling to see you John."

"What?" said John stepping back. He'd never met this man before in his life. "Who are you? And how do you know me?"

Leaning on his staff for support the old man levered himself up the last couple of steps. Until he stood for the first time on level ground with John. John was a big man and rarely did he ever look up to someone, but this man stood a good three inches taller than him. Looking up John tried to suppress his growing sense of unease. "Name's Ahmen." said the man "and I've always known you John." John thought he saw something flash in the old man's eyes, but quickly forgot about it as the man continued. "You've got quite the history, but such details aren't best spoken outside when a storm's a brewing. Shall we go inside." the man deftly grabbed John's elbow and slowly led him through the porch door "You wouldn't happen to have any Hot Cocoa would you?" He never gave John the chance to answer, and even if he would've John was too stunned to speak. He hadn't had a visit in over five years.