John and the Herodians - From the What a Strange Little Man Series (Chapter 2, page 1 of 4)

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Chapter 2

"Michael, we are nearing your destination. If you are going to contact Tom, you will need to do so now," Sam said, waking us from our nap.

The stars are unusually bright from this altitude, even though the Z-7 wouldn't fly very high.

"Mary, look at the stars," I said.

Mary shook herself awake, and looked at the stars.

"They're lovely, aren't they?" she said, "Kind of makes you appreciate God's abilities, doesn't it?" she added.

"I'm sure God's understanding is way beyond ours, dear," I said as I tried the connection to Tom on the videophone. The one in the Z-7 was a bit smaller than the one in our apartment, making my focus a little more difficult.

"Tom, are you awake?" I asked, waiting for a reply.

"Hello, Michael," Tom said, "How close are you?"

"I'll be there in a few seconds," I replied.

We rounded a corner in mid-town Colorado and set down in Tom's front yard. We gathered our belongings and headed for the house. Tom met us at the door with a refreshing cup of hot cider. He knew how much we liked cider, and though his wasn't quite as good as Mary's, it was still a welcomed drink at this late hour. Tom wasn't very big, but he was quite influential. He knew a lot of people in high places. His slender build, smooth looks, wavy black hair, and square chin made him seem passive, but Tom was anything but passive.

"I hope your trip was a pleasant one," Tom said as we set our luggage down in the front room of his house.

"We monopolized the time in a nap. Considering why we've traveled to this part of the United Countries, we knew we should get some rest," I said.

"Yes, why do you want to meet Dr. Tenny?" he asked curiously.

Mary and I looked at each other. We hadn't told anyone of our dreams. It was difficult enough to try to explain our arrival in this century, although only a few people knew, so we didn't dare mention the dreams. People thought we were strange enough. We gathered around his kitchen table, and sipped on our cider while Tom drank his coffee. I never could acquire a taste for that black drink.

"Nothing like a good cup of coffee to keep the blood pumping," Tom said.

"I suppose, if you like that sort of thing," Mary said.

Tom's kitchen was elegant. The table at which were seated was made from fine mahogany, with a natural finish applied that really made the different shades of red glow. His walls were made of a stone substance that looked as if someone had ground the stones up and made some sort of cement, which was then applied as if it were painted on. The lights hung from the ceiling right above where we were sitting and were sufficient to light the area we occupied. The aroma from the coffee mixed with that of the cider, and filled the kitchen with a pleasant odor.

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