The Passage

authority, and feels he is adding something solid, something real, to the

family's well being. Going by the nickname Red, more for his tendency to get

behind issues quickly and passionately than the touch of red in his shock of

graying hair, the old man finds these moments when he is alone and

unchallenged restful. His kingdom may be a dusty room full of rusting tools,

but increasingly, this is where he spends his day. Billy comes up to his

Gramps, uneasy and wanting to share with the old man, who always has an ear

and a keen interest in his grandson's exploits and discoveries. Billy is

upset.

Gramps . . all the frogs are gone!

The old man says,

. . What you say Billy?

Billy is distressed.

There’s no frogs . . there's no noise, no jumping

around. Did someone else catch them all?

Red considers for a moment.

6

. . I just heard something about that on the radio,

that all the frogs were disappearing and no one knew

why, for sure.

Red turns, muttering to himself.

Maybe it’s got something to do with those circles we

found in the field.

Pondering mysteries comes to an abrupt halt for higher priorities when they

hear Martha, Billy's mom, giving a dinner call from the house.

Dinner, don’t be late!

An unnecessary warning. On a farm, the men folks are seldom late for dinner,

and then not by choice. Red puts down his tools and starts walking towards the

farmhouse.

Come on Billy.

Billy runs ahead towards the farmhouse.

_______________________________

A white-haired man, balding on top and with unkempt white hair springing out

from his head in all directions, is bending over the viewing eye-piece of a

telescope.

He’s a bit wild-eye’d, clearly in his 80’s. This is an older observatory,

small, and thus one that has escaped the cover-up blanket as it is not seeking

government grants. The Astronomer is retired, no longer under any employment

restrictions, another arm of the cover-up. He looks up with glee in his voice,

speaking to his middle-aged daughter at the side of the room.

Pourrait etre une comete. Est sur un des bras d'Orion.

7

The daughter has her bland face toward her father, taking this in. She smiles

and turns to a laptop she has on a table in front of her, typing.

From my father’s observatory, his first comments. Could be a comet near

the arm of Orion. It emits waves. Father is excited!

_______________________________

A young man with short sandy hair is approaching a modern day observatory,

high in the hills in an arid region supporting only pine trees in the rocky

soil. He opens the door and strides in.

The young man, an amateur astronomer, is greeted by the attending assistant

astronomer. The attendant is wearing a lab coat over his sweater. The evening

is cool. The amateur keeps his leather jacket on. He says,

Hi. I’m Joe. I rented this scope for this hour. I’ve

got my coordinates here . .

The amateur is pulling out a piece of paper and hands it to the assistant. The

attendant frowns on seeing the coordinates, gesturing toward some scaffolding

placed to the side of the scope.

Can’t look in that direction. I’d move this equipment

but I’m not authorized. .. Huh . .

The attendant is puzzled, as there is no rational reason for the scaffolding,

especially since the scope had been rented. He is muttering to himself, under

his voice.

Why is that there?

The attendant’s face brightens. He begins walking sideways toward a side door.

We can use another. Come this way.

_______________________________

8

Both are now huddled over another telescope, having pulled stools up to the

viewing piece, side by side. The attendant is ready to enter coordinates into

the scope, has his hands over a keypad, and looks at the amateur expectantly.

The amateur has his piece of paper out and unfolded. He reads the coordinates

off.

Right Angle 5.151245, Declination +16.55743.

The attendant says,

Orion, eh? Lots of interest in that area lately.

The telescope hums and moves to a different angle. The attendant leans back

and says,

Take a look.

The amateur curls over the viewing piece, pulls back, moving away from the