RENA ROBINETT - THE HEALING

Rena Robinett currently has ten short stories published in various magazines, ezines, and anthologies with international and national publications; and has self-published one Science Fiction novelette, BREED.

Rena has a BA in English Composition and has attended, by invitation, the Iowa Writer’s Workshop summer session and the Napa Valley Writers Workshop. Rena is currently working on a memoir in two parts and a short story collection.

Invitations:
Napa Valley Writers Conference, June 2014
Chesapeake Writers Conference, 2013
University of Iowa Summer Writer's Workshop, 2010

THE HEALING
​

The little woman hummed to herself as she moved around the cottage. She was a small plain creature, with a square face. Her face and form mapped eons of genes passed on and on with a solid true core that says, you must spit in the eyes of your enemies and laugh at what befalls you, for this is a short journey on a long road and the end of one line is the beginning of another circle.
She wore a long red skirt which fell to her ankles and a loose embroidered top. Her feet were bare, with anklets of silver bells. She rings on her fingers and a tiny gold ring in the side of her nose. She was too big and solid to be an elf, but some of her bulk was aura, not substance. She had small bones, and wrists, tiny feet, a pert nose and delicate ears with slight points. She was old, but with great energy and a continuous thirst for the next adventure to unfold generally reserved for reprobates, adventurers, travelers of the stars, and wise, solitary women with stray bits of green magic in their blood.
Today she was not as spry as usual. She moved around with a tired, listless air, humming to herself and occasionally patting her old orange Tabby, Cinder. The room fit her like her clothes, comfortable, fluid, and artful. A sofa in soft grey just big enough for one to lie back on next to a big, patterned blue chair that begged one sit on it and read a wonderful book and, while you are at it go ahead, put your feet up on the nice comfy ottoman. A few old wood tables with candles and walls layered with drawings, paintings, and tapestries arranged in pleasant clutter. A space designed for living, reflection, and joy. One wall of the room by the front door was stacked with books of every shape, size, color, and dimension. There were a few leafy plants in painted pots with a scent of fresh herbs; a rosemary bush growing by a window, basil and mint in tiny pots, the peppery scent of fennel mixed with vanilla from homemade candles.
With a steaming cup in her hands, she moved to her chair and sat looking beyond the room. Out the window the blue sky hung like a wash above the forest which started right at the end of her tidy plot of land. "Something is coming, I can feel it." Her voice was raspy, but high-pitched, like a child with a cold. She had a strange inflection, a gentle lisp. It was the faint accent of an ancient tongue long forgotten with traces left in human speech. Blowing on her tea she tried to form pictures of what she was feeling while vague shapes coalesced around her thoughts. No matter how tired she was from her last adventure, she could feel something else coming, and she knew she would not be able to say no. It was her calling, to help when called.
She let the feeling go as afternoon fell into evening. Later, she put on a long nightgown and got in her wooden bed with its carved pillars. Patting her soft jewel colored quilt, she read a funny book until she drifted off to sleep.
 
She woke in the dark of her house to a mewling sound. Listening, she knew that was not a sound her Cinder would make. She pushed off her bedding and swung her solid body off the bed. Flicking candles on, she moved to the door of her cottage. The sound got louder as she moved across her living space. A sound like something in pain, lost, abandoned. She opened her door, adjusting her eyes to the sound, and found a being folded up on her doorstep, crying. She bent down to get a look at this creature and saw it was a young human girl. She put her strong arms under the girl, lifting her up and moving her into the house. Depositing her on the chair, she closed the door. The girl had tears running down her face but had stopped making noise. She looked shocked. “Where am I?”, she asked, looking around at the cottage.
“You are in my house and safe for now. Let me get you some tea. Are you hungry?” The girl shook her head. Sereana went into her kitchen and put on the tea kettle. She pulled down several small jars of herbs and mixed them in two large mugs. Waiting for the water to boil, she peeked through the doorway at the girl. She had dark, spikey bluish hair, big eyes, and a narrow face. She was thin but did not look frail. She was looking around the room, puzzled, tapping her fingers on the chair arm.
Sereana carried the steaming cups into the room, put hers down by the sofa, and handed the girl a mug. She sat, took a sip of her tea, let the girl blow on and take a sip of hers before she spoke. “Now, where did you come from and how did you get here?”
The girl looked across the room with tears in her eyes. “I don’t know We! We were marching. Horrible people have taken over and are killing us. My boyfriend, Danny, and I decided we needed to protest with our friends, so we left home even though there is this terrible virus everywhere. We wore masks and gloves, covered ourselves. We thought we’d be safe.” Her hand flew to her mouth as the sobs escaped.
Sereana reached in her pocket and pulled out a large white hankie. She passed it across the room to the girl. “What is your name, honey?”
“Tasha.” The girl wiped her face. “The third day things got really bad. Some weird police came in and started shooting at everyone. Me and Danny tried to stay in the back of the crowd, but at one point we got pushed up front. That’s when, out of nowhere, Danny crashed. She stopped, wide-eyed, breathless. “Blood was running down his face. He got shot in the head.” Sereana leaned forward in her chair.
Tasha went on, “People surrounded us and carried him to some medics. He wouldn’t open his eyes. He was so still. I was screaming and screaming. People were holding me, trying to stop me from screaming, but I couldn’t stop.” She sobbed. “The ambulance came and took him to the hospital. I remember the doctor mumbling something to me, and then his dad showed up and was yelling at everyone. I just sat in the corner, wishing and wishing I could go away. That everything would go away. I hurt all over and everything just kept getting grayer and grayer. I was sobbing, and then I looked up and saw you.”
Sereana looked at the human. She been away for quite a while taking care of business in another place, but she had heard rumors that Earth was in trouble. Bad trouble. Humans were not usually her concern. There were other folks who handled that area, but here was this poor girl on her doorstep. She sighed and lifted herself out of her chair. “Where exactly is this place?”
“Portland, Oregon USA.” Tasha sniffled.
Sereana went over and patted Tasha’s knee. “Wait here.”
 
Sereana went into her workroom which was filled with candles and hanging dreamcatchers. There were two stain glass doors that led outside. She went out onto the patio where a large bronze bowl sat high on a pedestal in the middle of a stone patio. Water shimmered in the bowl. Sereana waved her hands over the water and began a low chant. A face appeared in the bowl. A middle-aged lady with fiery red hair scattered around her head. “Sera, what are you doing? This isn’t your realm!”
“Somethings happening. This girl landed on my doorstep. Do you know about violence in Portland?”
“Yes, yes. It’s terrible. Another one of those little men trying to rule the world and doing a very bad job of it.”
“Well, for now, until I can get there, can you slow things down so no one else dies?”
“You’re coming here. Oh, my! That will be a first in a long while. Well, okay, I’ll round up the witches and see if we can put up some protective walls.”
“Good. I’ll be there as soon as I can. And what is this virus?”
“Oh my, yes. They keep messing with everything and not respecting the planet, so now another virus is killing everyone. One of those bat viruses. We tried to tell them to stop killing Earth. She is really pissed off at humans. Earth is killing humans and humans are killing each other. It’s awful.” She ran on. “We’ve been trying to change things, raise the vibrations, talk to Earth, but things have really gotten out of hand. And then this nasty little man got in power, and he’s been like gasoline on a smoldering ember. Set the whole world on fire. I don’t know what can be done. We just get one area doing a bit better, and something else blows up.”
“Okay. Talk to the other witches and let everyone know I’m coming.”
“Thank the gods.” The witch looked harried and very tired.
 
Sereana, peeked on the girl who had curled up on the sofa with her head in her hands. She walked quietly across the room and into her bedroom. Humming to herself, she pulled down a worn leather suitcase with buckled straps. Pulling items off hooks and hangers from the closet, she filled the suitcase with comfortable clothes for a long journey. She slipped out of her shirt and tunic, pulled on a pair of tan pants with loads of pockets, slipped a long, dark blue shirt over her head, pushed up her sleeves, and sat down in a chair by her bed to put on a pair of worn lace-up boots. She pushed the suitcase shut, buckled up the straps, and went in the bathroom where she stood before the mirror to brush her hair into a braid at the back of her head.
Pulling a blue sweater jacket off a hook, she carried the suitcase through the tidy kitchen to set it by the back door. She filled a large woven bag with a couple of red apples, a bottle of cold water, a loaf of crusty bread, and a chunk of yellow cheese wrapped in porous cloth. She added a small silver box full of kitchen matches, a few long white candles, a bottle of murky potion with leaves and maybe even bugs floating in it, and a few other necessities. She put everything next to the door, went back to her chair to finish her tea while she let the girl nap in peace.
 
Tasha’s eyes felt crusty and her face was still wet with tears. She had had the weirdest dream, that she was somewhere else with a funny old lady. It was a good dream, especially compared to waking up. Waking up and remembering that Danny was gone. Slowly opening her eyes, she sat up and saw she was in the same place she dreamed. Was she still dreaming?
The same funny old lady was sitting in a chair across from her. “You are not dreaming. Do you want some coffee or tea? We need to get moving.”
“I don’t know where I am.”
“No worries. We’re leaving anyway. I’ll make some coffee and then we need to go.”
After Tasha drank some coffee, still looking confused, Sereana was able to get her up and moving out the door. She laid the strap of her bag across her back, walked over to pick up her suitcase, looked around her sweet little abode, opened her back kitchen door, pushed Tasha through in front of her. They strode through her garden with its frog water pond through her back gate into the forest, where they both faded into the horizon amongst the dark/light shimmer of trees.
 
Tasha was bent over on the sidewalk throwing up. Sereana looked around trying to figure out exactly where they had come out. She pulled a tiny bottle out of her hip bag, popped off the cork, and a little something flew out and around her head. She whispered a name, and wings fluttered ahead of her. “Come on, honey. We have to get off the street.” She patted Tasha on the back, grabbed her hand and pulled her after the flutter of wings.
They were in a city, Portland, in a state, Oregon, in a country, the USA. Sereana did not like this country right now, but then, neither did anyone else. The streets were quiet. Nice houses with pretty lawns and gardens. Curtains drawn. Cars parked. Streets empty. No people. No sounds. Eventually they came to a tiny little house with an orange roof. It was set back from the road with a cement walkway leading to a large front porch and wooden door. Dragging Tasha along, Sereana knocked on the door, which was quickly opened by the same frizzy haired woman wearing jeans and a t-shirt that said, “bite me”.
“Come in, come in. Boy, am I glad to see you. It’s a mess here.” Her voice was high and fast, like Minnie Mouse doing Valley Girl. She led them both into a cozy living room. Everything was covered in patterns and the rug was topped with bookshelves and tiny inlaid tables.
Sereana sat on a sofa and Tasha sank into a chair. “Can we get some cold water, please?” Calla, the witch, moved into another room, chattering. “It’s horrible. We’ve tried everything, but nothing’s working. And then the virus came,” she handed both ladies large amber glasses filled with ice and water, “and that turned everything upside down.”
Sereana drank large gulps of water. “This is Tasha. She showed up on my doorstep. Her partner was killed. Can she stay here with you while I scout around?”
“Yes, of course, of course.” Calla looked over at Tasha with big, soft eyes. “I’ll take care of her. Relax for a bit. I’ll make some food. Tasha can take a bath while we chat.”
 
They had eaten a lovely meal of fresh chili, soft bread and butter, lettuce grown in the back garden, and iced tea with mint. Tasha was upstairs bathing in a huge tub overlooking the back yard. She got out, wrapped herself in a soft robe, and walked back downstairs. Sereana and Calla were still seated at the table. Calla twisted fingers around her glass of tea, “I contacted the witches. We put word out to all our groups. So far, the moms and dads are holding things down.
 
Sereana hated to leave the warmth of Calla’s house, but she needed to get out in the streets and feel the air. Something felt wrong everywhere. She hadn’t been on Earth in decades. The last time was in an era human called the ‘60’s. It was bad then, but under the badness there was a thread of wonderfulness. There was no wonderfulness in this air. It tasted like Europe during the Black Plague. It tasted like a lot of people dying, and nastiness everywhere.
Well, as her old friend use to say, “if it takes revolution to make evolution…break them eggs.”
Walking from Calla’s to downtown Portland was not far. Eventually she came to the back of a large crowd of people, jammed in together, in a variety of costumes and gear. She worked her way through the crowd. It was daytime, folks were milling around and chanting. Pushing along, she came to the front of the line behind a solid wall of women in orange shirts. The moms. On the side of the line were dad’s armed with leaf blowers and an odd assortment of yard tools. She almost laughed, but it was not a funny laugh. It was an, “Oh, shit. What have these humans got themselves into now?” laugh. It all seemed ridiculous, but underneath the commedia dell’arte, she tasted death and hate and meanness and wrongness.
Something was here that should not be here. It was an old taste and smell. Something she had known before, but she couldn’t place the memory of it. Only that it made her skin crawl up and down her spine, and her eyes filled with water. This was bad. Really bad. Then it came to her in a flash of old memory. Ancient memory. The split tail and glowing eyes. That fucking demon. He was back. She was so lost in memories that she didn’t realize what was happening until she heard screams, and the people around her started shoving her to get out of the way.
Large men armored and helmeted, with guns and riot batons were moving toward the crowd demanding they all move back away from the building. They were protecting a building by pushing, gassing, and shooting at moms. It was a kind of evil she had not expected but had seen before. Humans were not very inventive. They seemed to create the same horrible stories over and over. She moved with the crowd, slowly working her way to the sidelines.
Sitting hidden by the side of the building, she pulled some stuff from her bag. An old piece of bone, a feather, some dust from an ancient grave. She began muttering under her breath. She needed to create a distraction here. Test the powers that were pushing these opposing forces. See if she had any allies in the atmosphere. See if Earth would respond, or how quickly the Demon would find her. It was a risk, but she needed to know now. She muttered faster and louder. An old woman seated by a cement building with helmeted cops and free folk. Just an old hippie who needed to rest. She was barely noticeable in the chaos.
She placed the bone on the ground. Sprinkled the dust over bone. Waved the feather through the air. A thick film surrounded her. She waved the feather around her head, her shoulders, her knees, her feet. She chanted louder and louder, as a fog enveloped her. She switched the feather from hand to hand and waved it around the space, and then she pointed it at the men nearest her and their rifles, helmets, vests, ammo, goggles, boots, pants, flak jackets, brown shirts, pants all disappeared. They stood shockingly naked in the street. She waved and waved, and lines of the men further and further out were stripped. Men howled, shocked, cowering and covering themselves in the street naked. The people were also shocked, but slowly began to laugh. No one knew what or how it had happened. The men were running away, chased by crowds of people back into the building for protection.
No one knew what had happened. No one understood. She kept waving her feather until she saw the one man who was not naked, who had not been stripped of his gear. He was heading toward her. He could see her through the fog. His face was a mask of hatred and rage. He was coming fast, pulling up his weapon to shoot her. She waved her feather and yelled one ancient chant. The earth under him rose in an undulating wave of concrete which he could not stand on. He tumbled to the ground. The old woman, faster than anyone could believe, rose and disappeared into the crowd. The demon jumped up looking for her. But she was gone.
 
She sat sipping hot mint tea, Moroccan style. Her long, silver hair was wet and flowing down her back. She was hummed under her breath. “Demons too?” she mumbled. “Well, why not?” She laughed, looking up into Tasha’s sad eyes. She picked her bag up from the floor and rummaged around until she lifted her hands out holding a sharp gold dagger. The hilt was one long dragon’s tale and the blade looked like foggy crystal. She rubbed the blade in her hand and whispered, “I might need you, old friend.”
 
The next day they headed back out into the streets. Sereana checked around her for signs of the demon, as she creeped into the crowd. From the back, she held up a tiny piece of rock. The rock glowed orange, and everyone around her developed an orange glow. Except for most of the folks in riot gear and a few people in the crowd who were only there to cause mayhem. She whispered under her breath.  Tasha came up behind her, scared. People were getting angrier and more violent, hurling curses and bottles. Yelling, faces distorted, bodies puffed up in defensiveness and rage.
Suddenly, a breeze went through the crowd and most of the men in riot gear were stripped naked. Guns melted at their feet, hats, masks, shirts, bullets, belts, batons, pants, shoes, all stripped off them. A few of the people in the crowd were also stripped naked, standing with their mouths open, speechless. At first, everything stopped. Then, the crowd began to laugh and applaud and dance and hurrah. The naked people were left trying to put on gear that just fell off as the crowd flowed around them, rejoicing. Sereana looked swiftly around hoping to see the demon before she left, but he was not visible.
 
For the next few weeks, Sereana and Tasha worked their way across the country to demonstration after demonstration using her “goodness” meter and stripping naked folks who failed to have enough goodness. She went to political gatherings, fundraisers, and gatherings where folks should not have been gathering, everywhere. It took about four days before some young kid on TikTok posted, “I think this old granny is able to see who is bad. She’s zapping them naked.” Evidently, he had been standing next to Tasha at a demo in Florida and caught her sideshow. From then on, they had to disguise themselves, but the internet went crazy trying to track them down. Of course, at first normal folks thought it was just some crazy conspiracy until Rachael Maddox picked up the story and started asking some pointed questions. She put two and two together to equal a big fat, “what the actual fuck?”
 
Meanwhile, Sereana and Tasha just kept working their way across the nation until finally they got to Washington D.C. The country, by this time, was in full revolt. People were in the streets everywhere, and most people had started sitting or lying down in emulation of Gandhi. More and more good people were saying, “Violence is not the answer.” Since Sereana was clearing out a lot of the bad folks, people were safer.
The bad guys didn’t get naked at events. They were unable to put on clothes anywhere. They could not get clothes to stay on their bodies. They tried to put on their clothes and guns and batons and helmets and tasers, but they wouldn’t stay on. They tried to put on their own clothes. But no clothes would stay on their bodies. They stayed naked. They couldn’t or, shamefully, wouldn’t leave their homes. The mostly good folks all went to the streets and felt less and less like being violent. They laughed and danced and celebrated and chanted and meditated and sat in the streets and waited to get their world back.
 
The nasty little man who had started all this chaos, and who Sereana was almost positive was closely aligned with the demon she had spotted was holed up in the big white house in the middle of many folks who hated him. Sereana stood at the end of the long strip of water memorial and thought about how to get to him. She did not have to think long. The demon appeared on the other side of the memorial and beckoned her.
“Come on, we need to chat.” The demon was dressed in a black leather jacket, black skull t-shirt, moto books, chains, and all the stereotyped paraphernalia of the little man’s oddest supporters. “I’m going to let you have this one. But only because I know you won’t stop, and I’m bored.” He gave her a snide leer. “But you and I will meet again, and next time I won’t make it so easy.” The demon jumped on his Harley soft tail and rode off into the crowd. Tasha was standing beside Sereana. She took her hand. “Well, that’s some good news?” Sereana shook her head. “I wish it was, but for now it’s the best we can do.”
Suddenly, around them, the crowd started shouting the little man’s name while they pushed forward toward the barricade the little man had built around the house that was not his. The whisper’s wafted through the huge gathering, “He’s coming out!” Sereana and Tasha moved to the front of the crowd, softly pushing folks around them to make an opening, as they moved forward until they were right in front of the barricade. There he was, standing on the steps gesturing with his stubby arms and tiny hands. Sereana smiled as she pulled the tiny rock out of her bag and held it up. She was looking forward to this one.
The young people around suddenly moved back and gave her space, whispering, “It’s her! It’s the granny!”
There was a large circle around her as she stood with her arms raised holding the tiny orange rock and the folks around her started to shine from within with a glowing day on the beach orange yellow light, then poof, all but a few of the men and women around the little man and the little man himself were naked. They began to scream and wail, the little man especially, first throwing his tiny hands down to cover his very tiny penis. His big mouth was open in one long, loud, screaming harrangh which no one was paying any attention to, as they all stood there on the steps of the house that was not theirs, naked.
 
The people tore down the barricades to their house and stormed over the nasty little garden that nasty little woman had torn up until they were in the house that they belonged in. Then, after they made a bit of a mess of the place, sadly, they called in some good guys to fix the place up and get on with the business of running the world.
But they made it clear they would not be putting up with any shenanigans anymore. People would be fed, and housed, and given good jobs for good pay, and have excellent medical care for everyone, and all the children and elders would be cared for, and education would be free, and money could be accumulated, but only after everyone’s needs were met, and most importantly, they would begin to actively take care of the earth-the planet that we had been given as a gift. Period. And the new good folks said, “Yes, we agree. That’s what we want to do too!”
 
And just in case you think this only happened in one place, it didn’t. It happened in everyplace from Buckingham Palace, where the Queen was stripped naked in front of and with most of Parliament, to the Kremlin where Putin tried to strangle every naked person around him. Everywhere, mostly bad folks went naked and mostly good folks started working to put the world back together.
 
It was decided that all the naked folks would be sent to the Amazon Forest in South America where they would be interred, much like they wanted to inter everyone else in the world. It was also decided that anyone worth over one billion dollars would donate all their wealth, over that billion, to repair the world. Everyone agreed except for one greedy man who had bilked everyone. One morning, he woke up feeling very pleased with himself thinking all those other suckers had given up all their money and here he was with his plus billions of dollars. He stretched out in his lovely humongous bed in his humongous suite with the spa bath attached in his humongous house that he lived in all on his own on his humongous house. He stretched and realized he was naked. He did not sleep naked. He was slightly puzzled. Where was his t-shirt and silk briefs? Oh well, he was too pleased with himself to worry about that tiny detail, so he walked across the acres of plush carpet to his, again humongous, closet and pulled out some jeans and a Motley Crue t-shirt. He took a quick shower in his massive all amenity bath, toweled off, and slipped on his jeans. Which came right off. He stood naked on his imported from Italy tile floor with an unusual, puzzled look on his face. He slipped his jeans on again. They came off. He slipped his shirt over his head. It came off. He could feel his blood pressure rising. What the fuck was going on. He pulled his shirt on again. It came off. He grabbed his clothes and stomped into the bedroom, grabbed his remote and happened to pull up Rachael Maddox who was gleefully describing what was going on in the world. All the naked mostly bad people who were being rounded up and shipped to The Amazon River. He tried to put his pants on again, then his shirt, then he let out a long, fierce howling scream and sat on his bed to wait for them to come.
The mostly bad folks would not be allowed out of the forest. The men and woman would be separated so that they could not breed. They would be constantly monitored. If they showed signs of becoming good people, which some believed was possible and some did not believe was possible in this lifetime, they would be allowed back into the world. Otherwise, they would survive as best they could. Sereana did not think this was the best solution. She knew that demon would return. She hoped a better answer could be found in the future, but it would do for now.
 
Tasha has changed almost beyond recognition since she first showed up on Sereana’s doorstep. Now, as she talks with world leaders and helps field all the attention around Sereana, she stands tall and fierce, her voice is strong. She is confident in herself and this new world they are putting together, even if her eyes will always be sad. They consult her because they know that, in some strange way they do not completely understand, she is responsible for all that has come to pass.
Her and Sereana were based in a lovely place up in the Northwest among the ancient redwoods, soaking in a hot tub. The sky was just tinged with dusk, and they were completely relaxed, joking of all the high points of their adventures together.
“Remember the lady with the yappy little dog? As soon as her clothes came off, the dog bit her!” They were both laughing, with tears in their eyes. Tasha thin, vibrant, young and Sereana, elder, wrinkled, and content.
Sereana chuckled, “Or the old, fat guy who kept yelling how he didn’t mean to steal all that money from the church while he kept trying to cover his ass with his friend’s big floppy hat?”
“My favorite, Tasha said, “is the video of (nameless) running around his house naked,” His housekeeper, who’d admitted she’d hated him for years, released that one to the media recently and it was a TikTok duet favorite. Tasha rested her head back on a cushion. “Hey, what’s that?”
 
“What?” Sereana tilted her crinkly neck up and squinted her eyes until she could see what Tasha saw. A very big, white dot that seemed to be moving toward earth rapidly. Suddenly, she stood up naked and free. “Well,” she said smiling at Tasha, “I think it might be your parents.”
 
The big white dots poised all over the earth and looked just like all the movies made us believe they would look. The aliens looked mostly like us, except a bit taller, thinner and wiser. Once they landed in several spots all over the globe, they came down the ramps of their ships in groups and stood around looking more beautiful than fairies. Everyone had already been through so much shocking events that their arrival was a bit anticlimactic, but still welcomed as a good thing in a long line of very bad things.
 
The Elona’s, (as they translated their name to us), had left us here, as some folks had surmised, and basically forgotten we were here. Evidently, like parents who went off to a party and forgot to come home, they got very busy out in the big, wide universe and kind of forgot all about us until we really started messing up and some other wandering folks got word to them that they should come and check on their offspring before we fucked up this whole section of the universe. They seemed pleased, as far as the translations from them to all the languages of the world expressed, that we had managed to get back on track on our own.
 
Tasha sat very close to Sereana holding her hand. Across from them sat a very tall being with four arms and two legs, a torso, a narrow head with a somewhat larger forehead. Big eyes and a small, almost round mouth. No ears. They “heard” with their brain. Similar, but very different. SHi had bluish hair on shi head and around shi eyes. “We very much appreciate your help.” The being’s translation echoed in their ears. Not really vocalized but heard. “We should have come sooner, but now maybe it’s time for some of these beings to come back with us into the universe. They can learn about the real world out there, and that will help them elevate the species into the greater galaxy. Sereana was nodding in agreement, but Tasha just sat with her mouth open. They both knew it was the best path. Sereana suggested they offer the opportunity as a voluntary adventure, rather than a forced departure. The Elona answered, “Of course. We would never force beings to come with us or to be part of the All. They can remain here peacefully isolated if that is their wish.”
It was not most humans wish. Most people had been dying to find out we were not alone, and thousands of folks volunteered to go with the Elona. Of course, there were those folks who remembered the old Twilight Zone episode called “To Serve Man.” Aliens come, seem benevolent, help humans, invite them to come away, and as they are getting on the ship, a translator runs up yelling, “It’s a cookbook.” But most people refused to believe that was what was happening here. I mean, really, how much bad shite can happen to one species? Sereana laughed at that one, but she knew the Elona were mostly good. So, off they went by droves out into the universe that would become their new home.
Meanwhile, back on Earth, a whole bunch of folks were set on repairing all the damage we had done to the planet and all its inhabitants. It was an amazing, astonishing time of cooperation, adventure, amazement, discovery, and love. People from all over came together in groups and gatherings to develop new ways to live better with the earth, all it’s creatures, and each other.
 
Sereana had on her long skirt and a beautiful other worldly shawl given to her by one of the Elona’s made from some material no one on earth had ever seen. With every movement she made, the material glittered and shone like the farthest reaches of the galaxy. She was making tea. She had woken early and packed her bag and her duffle. She knew Tasha would be gone for a few days negotiating new ways of protecting the coastlines of the world, and she planned to slip away home. She got the call as she was sipping tea on the deck with her beloved Redwoods. “Good morning, Tash.”
“Sereana, the Elona have gathered at Angkor Wat and they want you to come as soon as you can.” Sereana sighed. She was suddenly very tired and very much missed her little house and garden in the woods on the edge of somewhere else. She had worked very hard here, and was ready for a long, peaceful rest.
“Do you know why they need me?”
“No, but they seemed very forceful that you must come.” So, she did. Setting her tea on the counter back in the house, she went and got her bags. Then she twirled around and around until she was standing at the top of a 500-foot-high temple in the center of the lost forest in Cambodia. The chamber was an enclosure of ancient, by human standards, columns and crowded with Tasha, some old friends, several Elona’s and several very good people who had helped in the transformation of humanity.
Sereana smiled because she knew a con when she saw one, and she could see she had been conned into coming to a huge party. The crumbly dangerous steps up to the temple were packed with humans and Elonas. Everyone was dressed colorfully, carrying balloons and kites and paper umbrellas. People were laughing and talking, chanting and singing. Music was playing everywhere, and some people danced while others ate foods from carts and baskets and friends. Sereana could see people spread across the many acres of Angkor Wat, thousands of people and beings. Tasha came over and took the bags out of her hand and placed them in a corner. “We couldn’t let you go without saying thank you.”
 
And they did. They all said “mahalo” to each other for saving themselves, each other, and the world.