Being From The Stars

Normally, we would have been born in the usual human way. But due to the nature of this mission, we were given bodies and deposited here instead. This was because it was imperative that we remember. When you are born of human flesh, you forget everything that was before. We couldn’t afford to forget. Therefore, we were deposited as children near the Pine Grove Orphanage. We would simply walk in and tell them we were orphans.

My companion and I were here on a mission. Something had interrupted the timeline and caused a fair amount of chaos in the cosmos. The ministry had determined that the epicenter of this chaos was here, western North America, and now, the mid 1800’s. It traced back to a man named Mr. Harrington. He was the founder of a town called Allissa, named for his daughter who sadly, had died in a carriage accident at the age of twelve. Our mission was to discover what had happened to interrupt the timeline and fix it if possible.

I looked at my companion, my “brother” in this life. He had chosen the name “Peter” and I went by simply “Jane”. Peter appeared to be a couple of years older than me. We stood gazing at each other for a long time, looking the other over carefully from head to toe. Everything seemed to be in order. It was difficult to get used to changing so quickly into human form. This wasn’t the way it usually worked. “Are you ready?” Peter asked.

“Yes.”

As we walked to the orphanage, I had a chance to gather myself. I breathed in the night air and gazed up at the full moon and stars. They looked different from Earth than from any other planet I had been to. It was late fall and a crisp chill was in the air. I loved fall on Earth! It was by far my favorite season. Peter walked silently beside me, holding my hand. His mind was heavy with the details of our mission. I could tell because we were telepathically connected. If his mind hadn’t been so busy, he could have enjoyed my thoughts about the crisp fall air.

As we entered the orphanage, we were greeted by the orange glow of a warm fire. It was late and the other children were in bed by now. We stood silently in the entry way, Peter still holding my hand. After a short time, we heard footsteps coming our way. “Is someone there?” A stout round woman popped her head around the corner. “Oh my goodness! You dearies must be freezing!” she said as she quickly crossed the room. She took off our over clothes and sat us down by the fire. “Let me get you something warm to eat,” she said.

Before long, we found ourselves holding buttermilk biscuits and mugs of spiced cider. How I love fall! I thought to myself. Peter glanced over and smiled at me. “I’m Ms. Mumford,” the lady said, as she sat down to look us over. “Now, tell me, who you are and where you have come from.”

Peter spoke. “I am Peter, and this is my sister, Jane. We are orphans, Ma’am. We have been orphans for as long as I can remember. Our last orphanage had to close down and we were put out on the street. We were told of your orphanage here, so we have come to see if you have room for us.”

Ms. Mumford smiled warmly. “I think we can make room for the two of you,” she said.

We did not have to stay at the orphanage for long, as Mr. Harrington came calling for us in just two days time. I say he came calling for us because we knew this would happen. Mr. Harrington did not know he was calling for us, per se. He just wanted to adopt the oldest children in the orphanage, and that just happened to be us. Mr. Harrington thought he was doing a good deed by adopting, fulfilling his just duty, given his financial status. But he also wanted children whom he could groom to work for him. Ms. Mumford was happy that we were out of her care so quickly. While she could not bear to turn us away, we were a burden to her already thin winter budget. She saw us off, waving as our carriage drove out of sight.

The Harrington estate was a well appointed manor on the outskirts of town. Mr. Harrington was a kind man. He was straight to the point, but not angry. He liked things done a certain way. He was not fatherly, but a respectable man to work for. Mrs. Harrington was not at all interested in being our mother. She was kind to us, but paid little attention. Her world was a busy flutter of activity and social events afforded the wealthy.

Peter and I spent those early days exploring the estate, being educated, and getting to know Mr. Harrington’s ways. He spent most of his days at his office in town. He told me that one day, I would come to work for him there as his assistant. For now, I was to practice assisting him at home. Peter was trained to drive the carriage and care for the horses. Mr. Harrington would send him to make special deliveries or pick up important packages that needed to be handled with care.

Finally, the day came when Mr. Harrington brought me to town with him. Allissa was flat and sparse. Single-story brown brick buildings rose up from dirt brown streets. Despite not being much to look at, the town was impressively large for this time period. The carriage pulled up to a substantial building in the center of town. This was Mr. Harrington’s office. He was both the founder and mayor of Allissa. I was given my own desk in a room adjacent to Mr. Harrington’s office. My duties included keeping the office clean and tidy, greeting people who came in, and being at Mr. Harrington’s beck and call. Sometimes I would fetch his lunch, or run a message to the telegraph office for him. I would help him keep his schedule straight and watch the office while he was away.

I worked for him for the next three years. By now I had grown into a young woman and I knew my job well, both my job for Mr. Harrington, and my job for the ministry. Peter and I were growing impatient. We felt as if we were running out of time to figure out what was disrupting the timeline. So far, Mr. Harrington seemed to be an upright man with no skeletons in his closet. Perhaps he disrupted the timeline by accident, that has been known to happen. Because this was such an important case, Peter and I were not the only ones sent to work on it. There were others, working different angles. Natasha was one such agent. She was a small girl, standing only four and a half feet tall. She worked for the town newspaper, making deliveries. This way she kept a close eye on the news and hearsay of the day. She delivered the paper to Mr. Harrington’s office every morning. This gave us a moment to catch up on anything that may be important.

“Is he here?” Natasha whispered.

“No, all clear,” I replied.

“Anything yet?” Natasha asked.

“No, still nothing.”

Natasha scratched her head. “There has got to be something,” she said. We shrugged at each other and she backed out the door.

Later that night Peter came to see me. “We may need to turn up the heat on this mission,” he said, “look a little deeper or try to flush something out.”

I looked at him. Peter was a grown man now. He stood tall and handsome in front of me. I know what you’re thinking, he said telepathically. I smiled and looked at the floor.

“Okay, what should we do?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said thoughtfully.

The next morning at breakfast, Mr. Harrington announced that he would be going away on a business trip. He planned to be gone for five days. He would be leaving me in charge of the office while he was away. I thought quickly. “Perhaps this would be a good time to deep clean the office?” I offered.

Mr. Harrington smiled. “I like your initiative Jane! I think that’s a great idea. I leave one week from tomorrow.”

I caught Peter as he was hitching the horses. “Peter, I’ve got it!” I said. “We can search the office while Mr. Harrington is away. Maybe there is something in there that will give us a clue as to what is going on and why we are all here. I told him I would deep clean the office while he is gone.” Peter agreed that this was a logical next step, and the only one we could take at this point. With Mr. Harrington gone, Peter would be driving me to the office every day. This meant he could stay and help with the search.

The day of Mr. Harrington’s departure finally came. Peter dropped me off at the office before taking him to catch the stage coach. As I put my key in the door, I felt a strange energy. My head shot around and I saw a man, a stranger, entering the clothing store at the other end of the block. He wore a fine brown suit, had light blue eyes and curved eyebrows that sat far up on his forehead. He met my gaze briefly before disappearing into the store. There was something different about this man. I had never felt that kind of energy before. It made me quite curious and I hoped that I would see him again.

Peter returned when he was sure that Mr. Harrington was well on his way. Natasha brought the morning paper and stayed to help as well. We had gathered several boxes to place Mr. Harrington’s belongings in as we systematically searched the office. Natasha handed me a necklace. It had wooden beads with letters and numbers carved into them. She pointed to a similar necklace draped around her own neck, but hidden under her shirt.

“I made these,” she said. “It is a way for us to communicate in code, in case we need to. Here, I will show you how they work.” After a lengthy tutorial, I finally understood the code she had created. “This is good,” I said. “We may need it if things heat up.”

Three days had gone by and we had scoured every inch of Mr. Harrington’s office. Boxes of his belongings were lined up along the wall, but we had found nothing of interest. Deep in cleaning mode, I had my sleeves rolled up, apron on, and my hair was a sweaty disheveled mess when I heard the door open and close. I walked into the waiting room and came face to face with the stranger from the clothing store. “I came to give you a message,” he said. I gestured for him to sit down on the bench and I sat next to him, feather duster still in hand.

There was the energy again. I could feel this man’s essence. It was as if he were a bowl of gel and I was in the middle of it, fully immersed in him. I knew that he was trustworthy and a higher-energy being of some sort, definitely not merely human. I looked into his light blue eyes and said dreamily, “tell me something your eyes haven’t already told me.” I heard the words roll off my tongue and couldn’t believe I had said them! I felt my cheeks flush. The stranger smiled and laughed a little, feeling my embarrassment.

“Can I be blunt?” he asked.

“Please! I much prefer direct honesty,” I said emphatically.

“Whatever money the town needs, the town has.” He stared at me pointedly and I understood the implication immediately. Mr. Harrington was illegally printing money. That is why Allissa was growing so fast. One man illegally printing money might not seem like a big enough deal to warrant this kind of mission, but small stones can make big ripples and somehow, the ripples from this indiscretion had reached the cosmos. Now we knew where to look. I thanked the stranger and asked him to visit me again.

I hurried into the back room to find Peter. In my haste, I tripped over a box and fell. Peter caught me as I was half way to the floor and held me tight as I regained my balance. He didn’t let go. We haven’t been this close in a long time. He said telepathically. I know, Peter, but you’re my brother now. What if somebody sees us? This was one of the hardest parts of being missionaries. We had to play the roles we were given. In this Earth life, Peter was my brother. But in actuality, we had been lovers and soul mates for eons. If we had been born here as humans are, we would have forgotten each other or at best, would have had only a dim memory. Since we came with our memories fully intact, it was more difficult to play the roles of brother and sister.

I stepped back and squeezed Peter’s hand. “I just had a visitor, the stranger that I told you about from the other day.” Peter raised his eyebrows.

“He told me that Mr. Harrington is printing money, that is how Allissa is growing so fast. That is where we need to look for answers.”

The words had no sooner left my mouth when we heard the door open and Mr. Harrington call from the waiting room, “Jane? Peter?” Peter and I exchanged a quick glance before hurrying toward the voice. Mr. Harrington seemed a bit disheveled and he was dismayed by the mess he saw around him.

“Mr. Harrington! We did not expect you back for two more days! Don’t worry about the mess, I am finished cleaning and will have things put back right away,” I assured him. But Mr. Harrington seemed suspicious.

It was at that unfortunate moment that Natasha came through the door, looking down at her necklace and talking. “Jane, I think I’ve figured it out,” she said. Then she glanced up to see Mr. Harrington staring at her. Poor Natasha panicked and froze. “Figured what out?” Mr. Harrington asked her, obviously noticing the necklace. Peter looked at me. Do something! He screamed in my head.

“The necklace, Mr. Harrington, see it’s a puzzle,” I said, pulling my own necklace from my shirt. Mr. Harrington was obviously still in a suspicious mood. I had never seen him act that way before. I continued, “It’s the current fad.” Natasha, snapping out of her panic, asked, “what’s a fad?”

“Oh, a fad is something like… well, like a toy that is really popular for a time until another toy comes along and takes over, like a yo-yo,” I said proudly.

“What is a yo-yo?” Mr. Harrington asked.

It was at this point that I realized the yo-yo was yet to be invented, or at least yet to reach the Americas. Here was another challenge to living in different timelines, past and future. Again, not a problem if one forgets their previous incarnations at birth.

“It’s a new toy, probably hasn’t reached us yet. I read about it in one of Mrs. Harrington’s magazines.”

By now, Mr. Harrington was confused enough that he forgot about the necklace. He shook his head. “It is good that you are all here,” he said. “Someone has been passing information to the enemy and I will require a sample of handwriting from each one of you to prove it was not you. Print and cursive please.”

I had never heard Mr. Harrington mention an enemy before. He seemed genuinely upset. Our missionaries had never passed handwritten notes, so we were not afraid to oblige. I went to the back room for pencil and paper, thinking of what I should write as a sample. The first thing that came to mind was a favorite recipe I had memorized. I was about to start writing when I realized that no one would know what “Krusteaz mix” was. Better think of something else. I jotted down a short poem about the wind in my hair and handed it to Mr. Harrington. Peter and Natasha handed in their papers as well.

“Thank you,” Mr. Harrington said. “Now Peter, would you please take me home? I can’t work here in this mess and I could use some rest.” Peter nodded and went to prepare the carriage as I assured Mr. Harrington that I would have the office ready for him in the morning. Natasha stayed to help me put things back and I told her all about the stranger and the message he had delivered. Natasha was in a better position to look into the town’s financial records than we were. She agreed to see what she could find out.

The next day was business as usual. I found a quiet moment mid-morning to slip into Mr. Harrington’s office and ask him about his enemy. “Mr. Harrington? I have never heard you mention an enemy before.”

“Ah Jane, you need not worry. The enemy I speak of is nothing more than a business rival in the next town. Someone has given him financial information that he can leverage against me. But this is all in the complicated world of business and finance that you need not worry about.” I nodded and left the room silently.

After that, things quieted down for awhile, though Mr. Harrington remained a little edgier than normal. It was now May and time for the annual town ball. Mr. Harrington insisted that everyone come to the ball. “The more, the merrier,” he would say. It was up to Mrs. Harrington to organize the ball and she took the job very seriously. At this time of year, I was to split my duties between my work at the office and decorating the town hall. It was the one time of year that Mrs. Harrington paid attention to me, because I was now at her beck and call.

“My dear, how you’ve grown up,” she said to me at breakfast one morning, as if seeing me for the first time in years. “We should get you a formal gown and I think I have just the one!” She scurried up the stairs, stopping at the top to beckon me to follow her. She led me to a large room which seemed to be a cross between a closet and a museum for ball gowns. She flitted around the room, stopping next to a lovely light blue evening gown. “Here it is,” she said proudly. “Try it on, see if it fits.”

It fit and I had to admit, I liked it. I called it my Cinderella gown, because it reminded me of the one Cinderella wore in the 1950 Disney animated film. Of course, Mrs. Harrington had never seen the film, but she did know the story of Cinderella, which was written in the late 1600’s. As I went about decorating the hall, I found myself wondering if the stranger would come to the ball. I hadn’t seen him since the day he came to deliver his message. I kept thinking about his curious energy and wondered who he really was.

Finally, the big night arrived. Peter looked handsome in his suit and tie. He looked me up and down carefully. You look beautiful. Sparkling like the stars in the sky, he told me silently. I felt beautiful too. There are rare pleasures in the human world, moments that just feel right. This was one of them. I made my way around the hall, stopping to admire the dancers on the floor.

“May I have this dance?” The voice came from behind me, but I felt the energy right away and knew it was the stranger. I turned to face him. “You may.”

He led me out onto the dance floor. “You wanted to see me again?” he asked. “Yes, I had hoped to,” I said. We started dancing and the night passed like a dream. After several songs, we made our way out to the balcony. “I need to leave now,” he said. “What, are you going to turn into a pumpkin?” I quipped. He stared at me earnestly and I returned his gaze. “No,” I realized, “you’re going to turn into a star!” He laughed, then jogged down the stairs and off into the woods. I watched as a star shot up from the trees and took it’s place in the night sky. A star being! I had never met a star being before. I would certainly never forget this one.

On the way home, in the carriage, I sat next to Peter. Beyond our telepathic connection, we shared an empathic bond as well. As I rested my head on his shoulder, he could sense my sadness that the star being had gone. I wish that I could comfort you in that way, he said telepathically. I kissed his cheek. “You’re a good brother and I appreciate you,” I said aloud. I reached up and held his hand that was draped over my shoulder. Mr. and Mrs. Harrington smiled at us from across the carriage. It was nice to see siblings get along so well.

“Where did the young stranger I saw you dancing with go?” Mr. Harrington asked.

"He had to return to his country,” I replied.

The sway of the carriage and the comfort of being near Peter made me feel sleepy. This was another rare moment that felt just right and I wanted it to last forever. Tomorrow we would redouble our efforts to find out what was really going on with Mr. Harrington. But tonight, I succumbed to blissful sleep...

… or so I thought. The ministry had other plans for me. As soon as I was asleep they whisked me off in my dream state. I saw Mr. Harrington in an unfamiliar office. He was arguing with a man, a Mr. Andrews. It seems they were conspiring together in the money printing business, but Mr. Andrews was blackmailing Mr. Harrington. He gave Mr. Harrington an ultimatum, take the deal, or be exposed. Mr. Harrington had sweat beading on his forehead. Mr. Andrews offered him some time to think about it.

The scene went dark as I was whisked away again. Now I found myself on a street corner in a large city. It was no longer the 1800’s, as evidenced by the skyscrapers, airplanes, and city buses. I looked down and saw that I was holding a newspaper. The date was March 30th, 2023. I glanced through the headlines. The world was full of despair, war, hunger, poverty, and suffering. My stomach turned as I felt the energy of the people and this place. This was the future timeline, it seemed, if Mr. Harrington was not stopped from making this deal with Mr. Andrews.

I woke up feeling feverish and shaken. I needed to pull myself together. I threw on my robe and slippers, crept silently down the stairs and out the back door. The sun was just coming up over the pond. I walked to the edge of the water and sat down. Thoughts ravaged my mind. How did it all fit together?

I heard soft footsteps behind me and looked up to see Peter. His brows were furrowed as he looked at me with concern. “I can feel you,” he said, “what’s going on?” He sat down beside me as I told him about the dream. I was glad he was here, now we could figure this out together. Peter listened intently. Sharing the dream with him helped me calm down and stabilize my mind. With my emotions under control, I could now think more clearly.

“Okay, what do we know? We know this deal, whatever it is, with Mr. Andrews is the linchpin that leads to a dark future. But how does printing money cause all of that? Inflation?”

“No,” Peter began. “You are thinking with your human mind. It’s not about money. It’s about greed.”

He was right. Money is a very human thing, but greed reaches far and wide. Greed and power over others was what would lead to the future I saw.

I suddenly had a vision. I saw the year 2023 again. Greedy men were holding power over the people. They were spread out across the earth, yet connected like a constellation in the sky. They formed a net, or a web of power, which they used to control the population. I saw another net, a web of light formed by volunteers who had come from all across the galaxies to help the people of Earth. They held the web of light up against the web of darkness. I knew that we were working together. Although 2023 seemed like the future from my perspective on Earth, time is actually simultaneous. Everything happens in the same now moment. So, while I was here is the mid 1800’s trying to stop Mr. Harrington, the volunteers were at the same time holding the grid in 2023. We were all working toward the same goal, disrupting this web of greed, by healing those who could be reached.

It was now that I understood the immensity of this mission. It was the biggest mission ever undertaken in the universe. The missionaries were spread out across space and time, working together to bring an end to the widespread suffering caused by a greedy and power hungry few. Somehow, if we could stop Mr. Harrington and enough others from taking a path of greed, we could interrupt this web.

And the oppression of Earth prevents humanity’s reconnection with the rest of the universe. Peter had been listening to my thoughts. I looked at him. “2023 – that was, or is, the year that humanity rejoins the galactic federation.” I had forgotten about that. Now it was making sense how one man’s indiscretion could effect the whole universe. It was not that Mr. Harrington was solely responsible for what was happening, he was just one point on the grid, one star in the constellation, the star we were sent to work with.

“Okay Peter, what do we do?” I asked.

Peter looked pensive. “Why would Mr. Harrington make this deal in the first place? He is not a greedy man. What is driving him?”

We were stuck.

“I don’t know, but I will try to find out. In the mean time, can you find Natasha and fill her in?”

Peter nodded. “We’d better get to breakfast,” he said.

It was a quiet day at the office. Mr. Harrington seemed out of sorts. He was becoming increasingly depressed and anxious as time went on. I checked his schedule. He had a meeting with Mr. Andrews in two days time. Silently, I locked the front door and slipped into his office. I didn’t want to risk being interrupted.

“Mr. Harrington,” I began, “I’ve been wondering, about Allissa, it is such a fine town… how did you come to start the town?”

Mr. Harrington sighed and leaned back heavily in his chair. I took a seat across the desk from him. He stared at the ceiling for a moment before meeting my gaze. “Allissa, my child, was a fine young girl. She was vibrant, and healthy.” He paused for a moment. “When she passed, I wanted to continue her legacy. She was robbed, her life cut short. She would not get to grow, to mature, to experience the world.” He paused again. “I guess I wanted the town to grow, to have what my dear daughter never would.” Mr. Harrington suddenly looked older, stress lined his face and tears stuck in his eyes.

“I loved her Jane. Why was my baby taken from me? She was my light, my joy.” The tears now fell freely. I sat in solidarity with him, silently feeling his pain. “I’ve messed up,” he announced, slapping his thighs and leaning back in his chair again, eyes lifted to the ceiling. “What am I going to do?”

“Let her go, Mr. Harrington. Make it right.”

He stared at me for a moment, then nodded slowly.

Mr. Harrington was not a bad man. He was a suffering man, a hurting man. His actions were an effort to soothe his own pain, but they led him down a dark path toward fear, greed, and manipulation. Healing his emotional pain brought that path to an abrupt end. Two days later, Mr. Harrington did not meet with Mr. Andrews. He did not make the deal. And just after two o’clock that afternoon, there was a bright flash and the timeline reset. The mission was a success and there was much celebration across the galaxies. I found myself back at home among the stars.

Peter was suddenly very close. We did it!

Now that we had shed our human form, we spoke only telepathically as we faded back into unity consciousness.

I missed you.

I missed you too.

Next time, let’s be lovers.

….