Disclaimer: I don't own anything from signs.too bad.oh well. Get the
picture?
Prologue
It was as if all the sound had drowned from his senses. He was sitting in his car, which didn't feel real; just a temporary shield from the cold air and hard dirt road that seemed to stretch on in front of him. As the car moved forward, slower towards the flashing lights in front of him, he still felt nothing in his mind. It wasn't real. She was fine. She always walked around before dinner.
She loved to walk. She said it was like God's way of previewing heaven.the angels floated on clouds up there.
He stopped the car. * * *
GRAHAM
I sat straight up in bed, aching from age and sleep. The bedroom door was wide open, facing Bo's room. Her door was closed, plastered with school art projects and coloured academic ribbons.
A quick flash in my peripheral vision made me jerk my head to the side window. The crack of my neck almost overtook the squawks from a family of crows. They were sitting on top of the separate house, 20 feet from the driveway and balanced on top of 17 wooden stairs.
I stood up and glanced out at the cornfields which swayed in the morning breeze. My feet didn't make a sound as they headed over to Bo's door. There I stood, drowsy but with a strange parent's tugging at the back of my mind. I stared at a picture of Curious George in yellow pencil crayon before shaking my head and stumbling to the bathroom. I caught the time on the hall clock.too early in the AM.
Halfway through brushing my teeth and staring for the 40th time at the tiny lines around my eyes in the mirror, I heard a faint cry over the tap water. I quickly cupped my hand over it and stuck my head out the door. The cry came again, faint but high and shrill-pitched. I spit out the toothbrush and ran into Bo's room. Her bed was vacant and messy. I heard Isabel and Houdini barking outside. Our two German shepherds were losing it.
I almost tripped down our carpeted stairs running towards the front door. The big wooden one was flung open and our tiny screen door spilt checkered patches of sunlight onto the hardwood floors that stretched from there to the kitchen. I burst through it and looked around. Our wide verandah was empty and early morning rural Pennsylvania was all around me. It smelled like rain. There was no sound.
I stepped down the rotting steps onto dew-wet grass. Panic started to shake my hands in an unfriendly greeting and I pulled them towards me in retaliation.
The cry came again. From the cornfields.
MERRIL
I suddenly realized it was a dream I was having when a fat man in the G-string came and sat on me, leaving all the beach-tanned bikini models for himself. Then I forced myself awake and landed on the floor beside my bed. I stood up and looked around to see if anyone was watching. I was alone in my room.a small shack beside Graham's house/farm. My daughter's bed was in the corner.empty and left like it belonged to a dead person. Jesus. I stood there staring at the hardwood. Of course it was reality. Where in countryfarm Pennsylvania could you meet quality women?
I suddenly heard screaming from outside. It sounded like Bo. Oh god.
I pulled on jeans and ran down the stairs that led from my tiny shack room right to the ground outside. It was 20 feet above the ground and not much. I would never complain to Graham, though. I saw him burst through his door onto the verandah. He had panic- stricken eyes and I suddenly got a chill. He started running toward the cornfields which was where the cries were coming from. The tall stalks were still and eerie.
I ran toward him. He stopped ten feet from the stalks and turned to face me. His look said it all.he never lost it. He was the father, he was always straight. "Where are they?" I said, breathless.
In a sudden burst of a second, Gwen came running out of the cornstalks in front of us. She was still in pajamas, with bits of cornstalk strings in her hair. She had a strange bout of darting eyes and she was flushed. Wide-awake and flipped out of her gourd.
She looked at me and at Graham. Nothing was said for a second but we started running after her when Bo yelled again. Weaving in and out of the corn was tricky; doing it while running took all our coordination. I was in front of my brother and behind my daughter on a July morning running through vegetation. And I was sure it wasn't going to end well.
Gwen quickly turned left and sprinted toward a small figure in a blue dress standing in the middle of the endless stalks. It was Bo. She was yelling at the top of her lungs for her dad. Morgan was nowhere to be seen. Gwen reached Bo first and scooped her up into her arms. Graham and me stopped beside them. I pushed the tall sweeping corn out of my face and looked at Bo. She was four years old with eyes like her father.
Graham stood beside Gwen who was glancing around for her other cousin. It was hard to see ten feet in front of you.
GWEN
I could feel Bo shaking in my arms. She looked into my eyes and ran her fingers through my long brown hair. "You're not in my dreams," she whispered. My uncle Graham was standing beside me searching her face for answers. He looked at me and I nodded, handing her to my dad who was standing behind me, grabbing my shoulder. Graham dashed off towards Morgan's cries. They were coming from the middle of the field, urgent and frightened. I couldn't blame him.
I saw what he saw. That morning. He ran into my room and jumped on me, hand in hand with Bo, who looked confused and hungry at 7 am. I was in bed and my dad was still snoring. They rambled on about the dogs and I had run outside with them to the fields.
Dad and me were following my uncle. He was out of sight now. Bo was breathing hard behind me. I could hear her talking to him in his ear. "The dogs," she was saying.
"Gwen, they." he panted, still running behind. He couldn't finish.
"Dad, you have to see this," I panted back. I turned my head to look at him and nearly tripped over Morgan. He was standing straight up and still staring out towards it. The fields. Graham was squatted down in the dirt to be more level with him. There was nothing moving except for Bo, who was grabbing onto dad's shoulders. I could feel her confusion just radiating off her.
We all stared out at the corn. My little cousin took his dad by the chin and turned his head to look out at it. He spoke timidly: "I think God did it."
"Did what?" whispered my dad. I threw my hand in his face to quiet him. He swatted it away. Graham slowly stood up in front of me and stepped into the circle in the middle of the field.
It was a perfect circle. A perfect crop circle, all the stalks bent down but not broken. The centre was at least 40 feet wide. Houdini and Isabel were circling it, in opposite directions, yapping to the world.
We stepped into the circle, all of us, surveying, observing. I grabbed dad's hand. It wasn't shaking. I looked up at him. He was staring at his brother with a look of bewilderment. More than usual. He felt me looking and turned his head. His dark eyes burned into mine. The expression was intense.
I opened my mouth. "There's more," I choked out.
"Oh, God," said Graham.
"My dreams were real," squeaked Bo.
A/N Sooo.I don't know what to say.ummm.please review? Thank you
Prologue
It was as if all the sound had drowned from his senses. He was sitting in his car, which didn't feel real; just a temporary shield from the cold air and hard dirt road that seemed to stretch on in front of him. As the car moved forward, slower towards the flashing lights in front of him, he still felt nothing in his mind. It wasn't real. She was fine. She always walked around before dinner.
She loved to walk. She said it was like God's way of previewing heaven.the angels floated on clouds up there.
He stopped the car. * * *
GRAHAM
I sat straight up in bed, aching from age and sleep. The bedroom door was wide open, facing Bo's room. Her door was closed, plastered with school art projects and coloured academic ribbons.
A quick flash in my peripheral vision made me jerk my head to the side window. The crack of my neck almost overtook the squawks from a family of crows. They were sitting on top of the separate house, 20 feet from the driveway and balanced on top of 17 wooden stairs.
I stood up and glanced out at the cornfields which swayed in the morning breeze. My feet didn't make a sound as they headed over to Bo's door. There I stood, drowsy but with a strange parent's tugging at the back of my mind. I stared at a picture of Curious George in yellow pencil crayon before shaking my head and stumbling to the bathroom. I caught the time on the hall clock.too early in the AM.
Halfway through brushing my teeth and staring for the 40th time at the tiny lines around my eyes in the mirror, I heard a faint cry over the tap water. I quickly cupped my hand over it and stuck my head out the door. The cry came again, faint but high and shrill-pitched. I spit out the toothbrush and ran into Bo's room. Her bed was vacant and messy. I heard Isabel and Houdini barking outside. Our two German shepherds were losing it.
I almost tripped down our carpeted stairs running towards the front door. The big wooden one was flung open and our tiny screen door spilt checkered patches of sunlight onto the hardwood floors that stretched from there to the kitchen. I burst through it and looked around. Our wide verandah was empty and early morning rural Pennsylvania was all around me. It smelled like rain. There was no sound.
I stepped down the rotting steps onto dew-wet grass. Panic started to shake my hands in an unfriendly greeting and I pulled them towards me in retaliation.
The cry came again. From the cornfields.
MERRIL
I suddenly realized it was a dream I was having when a fat man in the G-string came and sat on me, leaving all the beach-tanned bikini models for himself. Then I forced myself awake and landed on the floor beside my bed. I stood up and looked around to see if anyone was watching. I was alone in my room.a small shack beside Graham's house/farm. My daughter's bed was in the corner.empty and left like it belonged to a dead person. Jesus. I stood there staring at the hardwood. Of course it was reality. Where in countryfarm Pennsylvania could you meet quality women?
I suddenly heard screaming from outside. It sounded like Bo. Oh god.
I pulled on jeans and ran down the stairs that led from my tiny shack room right to the ground outside. It was 20 feet above the ground and not much. I would never complain to Graham, though. I saw him burst through his door onto the verandah. He had panic- stricken eyes and I suddenly got a chill. He started running toward the cornfields which was where the cries were coming from. The tall stalks were still and eerie.
I ran toward him. He stopped ten feet from the stalks and turned to face me. His look said it all.he never lost it. He was the father, he was always straight. "Where are they?" I said, breathless.
In a sudden burst of a second, Gwen came running out of the cornstalks in front of us. She was still in pajamas, with bits of cornstalk strings in her hair. She had a strange bout of darting eyes and she was flushed. Wide-awake and flipped out of her gourd.
She looked at me and at Graham. Nothing was said for a second but we started running after her when Bo yelled again. Weaving in and out of the corn was tricky; doing it while running took all our coordination. I was in front of my brother and behind my daughter on a July morning running through vegetation. And I was sure it wasn't going to end well.
Gwen quickly turned left and sprinted toward a small figure in a blue dress standing in the middle of the endless stalks. It was Bo. She was yelling at the top of her lungs for her dad. Morgan was nowhere to be seen. Gwen reached Bo first and scooped her up into her arms. Graham and me stopped beside them. I pushed the tall sweeping corn out of my face and looked at Bo. She was four years old with eyes like her father.
Graham stood beside Gwen who was glancing around for her other cousin. It was hard to see ten feet in front of you.
GWEN
I could feel Bo shaking in my arms. She looked into my eyes and ran her fingers through my long brown hair. "You're not in my dreams," she whispered. My uncle Graham was standing beside me searching her face for answers. He looked at me and I nodded, handing her to my dad who was standing behind me, grabbing my shoulder. Graham dashed off towards Morgan's cries. They were coming from the middle of the field, urgent and frightened. I couldn't blame him.
I saw what he saw. That morning. He ran into my room and jumped on me, hand in hand with Bo, who looked confused and hungry at 7 am. I was in bed and my dad was still snoring. They rambled on about the dogs and I had run outside with them to the fields.
Dad and me were following my uncle. He was out of sight now. Bo was breathing hard behind me. I could hear her talking to him in his ear. "The dogs," she was saying.
"Gwen, they." he panted, still running behind. He couldn't finish.
"Dad, you have to see this," I panted back. I turned my head to look at him and nearly tripped over Morgan. He was standing straight up and still staring out towards it. The fields. Graham was squatted down in the dirt to be more level with him. There was nothing moving except for Bo, who was grabbing onto dad's shoulders. I could feel her confusion just radiating off her.
We all stared out at the corn. My little cousin took his dad by the chin and turned his head to look out at it. He spoke timidly: "I think God did it."
"Did what?" whispered my dad. I threw my hand in his face to quiet him. He swatted it away. Graham slowly stood up in front of me and stepped into the circle in the middle of the field.
It was a perfect circle. A perfect crop circle, all the stalks bent down but not broken. The centre was at least 40 feet wide. Houdini and Isabel were circling it, in opposite directions, yapping to the world.
We stepped into the circle, all of us, surveying, observing. I grabbed dad's hand. It wasn't shaking. I looked up at him. He was staring at his brother with a look of bewilderment. More than usual. He felt me looking and turned his head. His dark eyes burned into mine. The expression was intense.
I opened my mouth. "There's more," I choked out.
"Oh, God," said Graham.
"My dreams were real," squeaked Bo.
A/N Sooo.I don't know what to say.ummm.please review? Thank you