A Scripta

Private Jack Simon greased the gun. Again. Fort Devens wasn't so bad, he was still in Dixie; just a three hour plane ride from Gadsden, his home town. Not that he ever wanted to go back.

He looked up as the corporal came up. "Sarge says he wanna see ya."

Simon nodded, started toward the barracks.

Jack.

He looked around, saw no one. He walked a little further.

Jack.

He stopped. "Whozzat?"

Over here. In the woods.

He glanced around him, then headed into the woods. No one was there immediately, so he turned to go back. No, come in. Head south. He kept on going, crashing through brush, until he reached a clearing. A young black child stood there, idly scratching into the wood of a tree. She turned to him. "Hi, Mr. Simon!"

"Do I know you?"

"No' yet. Lodeystar done like you-sir, bu' I gotta die. Say he gots'm work t'do, an' I canna help'm."

"Who? What?"

"Ain' gots time t'splain. C'mere." She walked up to him and made a motion for him to either kneel or squat to her level. He squatted, keeping his balance. She grabbed him by the back of his head and pulled his forehead to hers.

Next thing he knew, he was lying face-up in the leaves and looking up at the beautiful blue sky. He struggled up, using the huge tree in the center of the clearing as leverage. As he looked around, he noticed everything was clearer, brighter. He looked down at himself, then looked to his right.

A black girl's body lay at the bottom of the tree; she looked like she had curled up to sleep and died. He blinked, looked around.

No one sees us.

He jumped back, looking around wildly.

Calm, Jack.

He found himself taking a deep breath, holding out his hands to the ground, as if to gain strength from that. He seemed to calm down.

I know I didn't have time to explain, Jack, but that girl was too young to understand.

"Who are you?"

I am called Lodestar. I am from another planet. Don't panic. Oh... Then he sent images. The body moved on its own volition back to the gun, where the corporal still stood next to it. "Hey, Jack, wha'd he say?"

"Nuthin'," he replied. "Thanks."

The corporal touched the brow of his hat to him. "You look like somebody hit ya over the head."

"I'm okay." Jack stared at the gun. "Yeah. I'm fine. I'll be jus' fine."