Close Encounters of The Human Kind

I knew the instant I saw him that my guardian held out his hand to me. Light emanated from his body, illuminating the room brighter than the noonday sun. Perfect vision, unknown to me for the last ten years, revealed volumes. I didn’t question him. How do you explain all-encompassing love in an expression? It’s impossible.

I sat up, shoved my covers away, and threw my legs over the bed’s side. I couldn’t get to Him fast enough; nothing else mattered. I thrust my hand toward him, no tremors or hesitation, just firm resolve to go with him, wherever he wanted to take me. Joy unspeakable flowed through me at just His mere touch. For the first time, I lived. Truly lived. My life, up to this point, paled in comparison.

I didn’t question when he turned around and led me through the room’s wall, which now sported a glowing, supernatural door. I walked with him, and light sped alongside us, but my eyes focused on him. Time stilled, yet we arrived at our new destination. I couldn’t tell you how long it took us. The intensity of the land’s light distracted me, and I looked away from my guardian.

Perfection.

What else could you call a planet so vast and spectacular? My guardian let go of my hand. I turned to take in the beauty surrounding me.

We stood in a valley filled with grass, flowers, and trees, yet even as I looked down at my feet, the grass appeared to flow right through me. A crystal-clear river ran through the meadow’s center, edged with trees, unlike anything I’d ever seen before. Colors of unknown names surrounded me.

And the people—every last person glowed from the inside. Their robes brightly shone as though diamonds were woven in the strands of fabric. Laughter and joyful praises came from everywhere.

A man in flowing robes stepped forward, his smile-crinkled eyes never leaving mine. He looked ageless and young at the same time. “You’re Abraham,” I announced. Nobody told me, but I instinctively knew. He pulled me into his chest and hugged me as though we were old friends, and somehow, this truth rang loudly inside my mind. We might have embraced for seconds, minutes, hours, or days, but I never wanted it to end.

Finally, Abraham stepped back, his expression more than pleased. His hands remained on my shoulders as he looked at me.

What was he seeing? Did I meet with his approval? I basked in his pleasure, staring intently at his face. “I thought you’d be older,” I blurted.

He threw back his head and laughed. The sound echoed back in perfect harmony, only it sounded as though a thousand more voices joined in. Merriment surrounded us; even the grass and flowers at our feet sounded like they added their part.

Intrigued, I kneeled. For as many years as I went without sight, even simple things like the vegetation made me giddy. Even though I told my family I didn’t mind being blind, I missed so much.

Home didn’t hold a candle to this luxurious, perfect grass. Not a weed, insect, or brown speck in sight. I bent over, hand outstretched. The grass leaned toward my finger, eager for my touch. I didn’t know shades of green like this existed. Light emanated from each blade as though infused with it. How could this be? As I did so many times at home, I lay flat on my stomach, as eager and curious to investigate as though I were seven instead of seventeen. I glanced up to Abraham, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say this grass was alive.”

“Of course, it is. Everything made by our Master is alive. Stand, Haley. I want to show you around.” He held out his hand, and I took it to help me stand.

I looked left, then right, and turned in a full circle. “Where’s my guardian?” How did I miss him leave?

“He’s on an errand, but He’ll be back shortly. Meanwhile, He asked me to keep you company. Walk with me.” Abraham turned and gestured for me to remain beside him.

We took several steps when a stream of people exited a strange vehicle just ahead of us. I could only describe it as a cable car, only without the cable. Some people didn’t hesitate but bolted across the expanse; others paused to look around. Without exception, Abraham greeted each person. Their expressions probably mirrored my own. One man cried out, “I made it! I made it!”

His incredulity made me smile. Tearing my gaze away from the newcomers, I looked up at Abraham and asked, “Where are those people going?”

He hugged and welcomed one of the last people to walk past, and then he turned his attention back to me. “They have appointments with the Master.”

Ah, yes, that made sense. “Is that where we’re headed?” A tingle raced up my spine at the mere idea of meeting the Master. How did one address him? What would I say?

Abraham shook his head. “Not just yet.”

Disappointment and relief circulated through me. I returned my gaze to the people. Just as they reached the beams of light, they disappeared. That light moved them to wherever the Master resided, like an elevator of sorts. With the newest arrivals welcomed, Abraham resumed our walk. “I greet every new arrival. It’s one of my greatest pleasures and rewards.”

I could only imagine the many millions of people arriving over the centuries since Abraham came here. Yet, I could tell he spoke the truth. What would I do here? Would I be assigned a job?

In front of us, children played, calling out to one another and chasing the dogs, sheep, and lion cubs. None of this surprised me. Families sat on blankets under the pear trees beside the flowing river, enjoying the serenity and their picnics. Other than the new arrivals, nobody appeared rushed or anxious. Why would they? With eternity stretching out ahead of them, they could spend their leisure at any task.

One little boy, maybe five years old with curly brown hair, turned away from his playmates and ran toward us. As soon as he got close enough, I froze.

“Hi, Haley! Did you see me playing with the dog? Tell Matt that I’m not allergic to dogs anymore. It’s too bad you can’t see where I live with Nana Jeannie, but we’re not ready to go home yet.” He ran back and kneeled to hug the dog. He rubbed his cheek across the dog’s fur, a broad smile beaming from his face.

How could I break it to Jimmy that I wouldn’t be returning to tell Matt anything? Didn’t Jimmy realize I also arrived here the same as he? Abraham’s next question jolted me back to reality.

“Are you thirsty?” Abraham bent and dipped a golden goblet into the river.

When did we arrive at the river? Let alone to the very edge, yet we must have. I nodded, already anticipating the thirst-quenching liquid. Was this the fabled fountain of youth? I took the vessel from him, marveling at the weight. Was this cup solid gold? I never knew that gold in its purest form looked as clear as crystal.

Peering into the goblet, the water glowed, pure and sparkling. Its sweetness revived my every cell, more alive than ever. “Thank you,” I said, returning the cup to Abraham. Even as he looked down at it, the goblet simply disappeared. I couldn’t shake the idea that the vessel melted into my flesh, like a gift for my use later.

“Now that you are refreshed, we can continue. Shall we?”

A building appeared in front of us. Was that here the whole time? Was I simply too distracted by watching the flowers turn to follow our progress to notice a building too large to see from one end to the other? It seemed unlikely. You’d think I’d notice something this massive and spectacular when I first surveyed the valley. The sapphire blue walls sparkled, and the immense door looked as though it were made from a single pearl.

“I think you’ll like what we have here,” Abraham said, reaching around me and pulling the pearl open for me.

Inside, I expected a darker interior. Yet, if anything, it seemed brighter. Only then did it hit me. “It’s so strange. There aren’t any shadows anywhere.”

“No, only goodness and light exist here.”

“What is this place?” I asked, turning to take in the beautiful instruments seemingly strewn throughout at random. Some apparatus were unknown to me, but I wanted to know everything about them. What would they sound like? Would I ever get the chance to learn to play them? Did they compare to anything back home?

“This building is for master musicians. Why don’t you pick up that cello and play me the song you just created? Your guardian told me how talented you are.”

“My guardian?” Of course, I believed in the guardians, so it shouldn’t have surprised me. But to know that my guardian discussed my silly song with someone as important as Abraham seemed inconceivable. Yet, Abraham clearly knew I played.

I moved across the room, hearing the echo from my soft footsteps. The perfect acoustics lifted my soul, increasing my desire to listen to my song in this room. The cello’s maker must have been a master. I marveled at the smooth finish, the stunning wood grain, and the light emanating from within it. Did I dare use it?

“Try it out.”

As if he noticed my indecision, his statement heartened my resolve to pick up the bow resting on the chair. I sat and pulled the cello between my legs. All hesitation ceased as the first note flowed from where the bow caressed the strings. My music floated across the air in front of me, lifting and dancing in time to the beat I set. The song never sounded this amazing on Earth. Voices accompanied my notes, their pure tones amplifying the beauty until tears of unabashed happiness streamed down my cheeks. Love surrounded me, lifted me, buoyed me to continue.

New verses flowed through my fingers, notes cascading like a waterfall, pure and sparkling, reminding me of the water I drank. I always thought this song needed more; now, I knew the fullness of its power. I could play like this forever. I closed my eyes, reveling in the sensations flowing through my body. On Earth, I used vibrations to guide me; here, they fed my soul the same as food used to do for my body.

I came to the end of my song and opened my eyes. Crowds of people surrounded me, all of them glowing and wearing beaming smiles of appreciation and wonder. I don’t know how they arrived unheard, but I basked in their praises, knowing I played better than ever before. Playfully, I bowed to acknowledge their applause as I set down the bow and settled the cello against the chair.

“That was magnificent, Haley. Just magnificent. Are you ready to see more of this world?”

I nodded. With the music still filling me, I asked, “Are you going to take me to my home here?”

“No, it’s not yet finished, but there are plenty of other things to explore. Which would you like to see first, the flying lessons, the crystal sea, or the unicorns?”