Creatures of God

Over The Rainbow

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Onward, upward, Everyone!

"Look, it's apparent you can understand what's being said here," Dr. Berman said to the youth from the time capsule.

The boy from Earth's past held a bandage at his left arm where his intravenous line had previously existed. Shirtless, he sat quietly wrapped in the warming blanket that Elliot had provided the night before.

"Who are you?" Dr. Berman asked.

The boy stared at the long, metal table upon which he sat. A mild enclosure to its perimeter pressed into the back of his thighs, his legs hanging over its edge. He felt dizzy, as if staring off a windy cliff, and reached out to steady himself. The table's surface was cold, like a forgotten, frozen memory. He drew his finger against the smooth metal. Visually, he followed the table's length and incline to its recess and drain at the other end.

"What is your name?" Dr. Berman pressed.

The young stranger studied his immediate surrounding. Besides the exam table, the modest room contained a desk and chair, metal cabinetry and a black countertop that ran waist-high along the periphery of the walls...

The boy halted his visual survey.

There were pictures.

The boy squinted and adjusted his posture to view them better. They were charts of people, and of animals. Ghastly illustrations of different body parts.

"We're not here to hurt you," Elliot said, pausing to swallow. "We only want to help you."

The boy next looked to the doorway, the only exit to the room. Adjacent to it was a large observation window, the same viewing glass through which he had first observed his captors. The boy glanced up. Above him was a large, circular lighting fixture. Although the light was not on, the strange boy was clearly in the spotlight.

Dr. Berman paced back and forth, his anxiety only punctuating his obsessive-compulsive nature.

"What is this place?" the boy suddenly spoke.

"A-ha, so you do understand us!" Dr. Berman accosted as he stepped closer. "Different accent, but you speak the language. What is your name?"

The boy sat quietly.

"Did you hear me? What is your name?"

"I don't know you, Sir," the boy replied. "I shouldn't speak to strangers."

The doctor raised an eyebrow.

"Hello," the younger scientist in the room spoke up. "My name is Elliot. This is my mentor, Dr. Berman."

The boy glanced between his two captors. "My name is, uh, ... Alessandro," he said carefully.

"Alessandro," Elliot repeated. "Welcome, you are among f-friends."

The boy stared.

"God's peace to you," he responded.

Elliot looked at Dr. Berman awkwardly. "Uh, yeah," the younger scientist replied. "Peace to you, too."

Dr. Berman frowned. "Where are you from, 'Ali-san-dro?' "

The mispronunciation of the boy's name stuck out like a sore thumb.

"I want to go home," Alessandro stated.

"Where is that? Where did you live?" Dr. Berman probed.

"I live in Prairie Hills, Sir."