Otherworld by Jared C. Wilson Page A

would have doubted its popularity. Graham’s headaches would not go away, and the persistence of the reporters with their tendency to arrive in great numbers and shout different questions all at once, each trying to drown out the others, only made the pain worse. They showed no satisfaction with his opinion on the matter. Branding Pops a “kooky nutcase” didn’t make for good news. Truth be known, most everybody was convinced that Pops was off his rocker, but no one wanted to face the facts. They wanted the centuries-old mystery solved. They wanted to get up in the morning, shuffle out the front door, and pick up the newspaper to read the headline: ALIENS ARE REAL!
    Ain’t gonna happen , Graham thought. He lay motionless in bed, his temples throbbing intensely, and waited for sleep to come. The pounding in his head was as much noise as it was pain, and he wondered if he would ever doze off. The television flickered in his dark bedroom, the volume muted, of course. The meteorologist announced the forecast for the next day. Another chilly one. The closed captioning was producing unintelligible gibberish along the bottom of the screen. Graham attempted to read the man’s lips. He couldn’t make any of it out, but the on-screen graphics clued him in. At the end of the forecast, the captioning program suddenly became coherent, and the weatherman’s parting words glared at him from the TV screen, white letters against a black background: “Be assured, it’s gonna be nasty.” Graham clicked the set off with his remote control and removed a worn King James Bible from the nightstand. Be assured , his mind echoed. It’s gonna be nasty.
    Â 
    None of the Spotlight Magazine staff favored late-night meetings, especially on Fridays. Nonetheless, all arrived in the downtown office prepared and on time. Gathered around a long conference table, they each presented their work to Robbie Jensen, editor in chief, and to the staff as a whole, and they all began laying out a schedule of stories for the next several months. The task was long and tedious but six hours later, as Saturday’s light began creeping through the office windows, the task was complete. Robbie accompanied Mike out to his car.
    â€œYour piece turned out great, Mike.”
    â€œYep. Thanks.”
    â€œSomething the matter? You don’t look so good.”
    â€œYou mean besides the fact that we were here all night on a Friday?”
    â€œYeah. Besides that.”
    Mike gazed out past his friend. For once, the hurt came through. A wall came down. He felt just short of tears. “I saw Molly last week.”
    â€œOh yeah? That’s great. How’s she doing?”
    â€œShe’s doing okay, I guess.” He breathed deep. “I messed up pretty bad, Rob. Real bad.”
    â€œWhat do you mean? What’d you do?”
    â€œI freaked. I don’t know. I went in totally cool. Just wanted to take it slow, you know. Didn’t want to jump right into everything and mess it all up. I just wanted to gauge the situation, you know. Just be a good guy. Not come on too strong.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œI screwed up. I acted like I didn’t even miss her.”
    â€œWell, that can’t be that bad. I’m sure she knows you do.”
    â€œI don’t know. It wasn’t just that. I just said all the wrong things.”
    â€œWas she mad at you?”
    â€œNo, just real quiet. And then she left real quick without really saying good-bye, you know? I mean, she did say it, but it wasn’t really … I don’t know. I don’t know even what I’m talking about. I just feel like I made the situation worse.”
    â€œI think maybe you’re just too worried. It’ll be okay. Everything’s gonna work out good for you guys.”
    â€œI don’t know. I feel like I’ve already lost her.” I feel like I’ve lost everything.
    â€œWhat are you gonna