“Touch it,” the voice offered. “Feel it. Become part of it.”
“This is kind of creepy,” Courtney grumbled.
“Shhh!” Mark implored.
The joyous faces were replaced by a close-up image of an old man. He looked to be in his seventies, with salt-and-pepper hair that was perfectly combed. The guy looked like a kind grandpa with strong eyes. He wasn’t a doddering old man. He was sharp. He held a small, warm smile as he gazed out onto the sea of faces. It was the old man that all these people were looking at and holding up their hands to. The images became even wider to reveal that he was wearing a simple white robe and standing on a circular stage above the huge crowd of people. His arms were spread, as if he wanted to hug them all in his loving embrace.
“Yeah so?” Courtney said impatiently. “Looks like some kind of televangelist.”
“Wait,” Patrick cautioned.
The voice then said, “The Convergence is upon us.”
“What?” Courtney shouted. “Shhh!” Patrick chastised.
The voice continued, “March twelfth. Madison Square Garden. Touch the future and the past.”
The old man stood on the stage in the center of a sea of arms and adoring faces. It looked like a sports arena. People on every level were reaching their arms out as if to touch him, but were too far away to make actual contact. The music reached a crescendo as a huge image appeared above the man for all to see.
Courtney gasped.
“Oh man,” Mark whispered.
It was the star. The star from the gate. It exploded with light. The crowd cheered. Some seemed overcome with the image and fainted dead away. The eyes of the others sparkled with the light that glowed from the giant star. The image was replaced by a glowing, animated version of the star that filled the TV screen against a background of black. The music rang out and the voice said with passion, “Ravinia. Yesterday, today, and forever.” The star faded out. The screen went black. A second later regular programming continued. A rerun of Seinfeld. Courtney, Mark, and Patrick stared at the screen, stunned.
It was Mark who was able to speak first. “Did he say the Convergence was upon us?”
“Yeah,” Courtney confirmed. “And Ravinia.”
“Who is he?” Patrick demanded.
Mark and Courtney shook their heads and shrugged. Neither had ever seen him before.
“What is a Madison Square Garden?” Patrick asked.
“Big indoor stadium in New York City,” Courtney answered. “That was like a commercial to promote an event there.”
“It was like a commercial to promote the Convergence!” Mark corrected. “Could that have been Saint Dane?”
Patrick nodded thoughtfully. “March twelfth. That’s today.”
Mark plopped down on the couch. The Seinfeld episode was loud. The characters were complaining about something, as usual. Mark looked around, annoyed. “Where is the remote?”
Patrick called out, “Turn off.”
The TV turned off.
“Oh,” Mark uttered, numb.
Patrick faced the others. “None of that was familiar to you?” he demanded to know. “The gray-haired man? The people? The sentiment?”
“No,” Courtney said. Mark shook his head.
“What about the Convergence?” Patrick added. “Is it some definite event that can just…happen?”
Mark said, “You’re assuming it’s Saint Dane’s Convergence.”
“Like there could be two?” Courtney shouted back sarcastically. “Slight coincidence, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know what to think,” Mark fretted.
Patrick paced, deep in thought. “We need to know who that man is,” Patrick concluded.
“And if the Convergence is going to happen tonight,” Courtney added.
“That too.” Patrick paced more quickly, the tension rising in his voice. “Whoever that guy is, he’s got a following. Those people looked at him as though he’s some kind of… of… god. If he didn’t exist on Second Earth before, there’s a good chance that whatever he’s doing, it’s going to lead to the changes on Third Earth.”
“We should go to that event at Madison Square Garden,” Mark offered.
“I’d rather go see the Knicks play,” Courtney complained.
“I need to get to a library,” Patrick announced, ignoring her. “That man didn’t just show up yesterday. We need to find out everything we can about him.”
“Use the Internet,” Mark offered. “My computer’s upstairs. But it’s not like on Third Earth. No holograms. No huge databases. You’re going to think it’s all pretty crude.”
“If a guy has that kind of impact, I don’t think the database will have to be all that deep to find him,” Patrick said with authority. “We have to know how he got started. Where he came from. How he ended up having such a big following. That kind of information has to exist, and I can find it.”
Mark smiled at Courtney. Courtney gave a little shrug.
“Glad you’re with the program,” Mark said to Patrick.
“It’s what I do,” Patrick replied with confidence.
“Do what you can,” Mark said. “Then we’ll head into the city.”
Soon after, Patrick sat at Mark’s computer doing his best to dig through the crude (to him) data that was available on the Internet. Mark and Courtney left him alone to work undisturbed and went to Courtney’s house to get her clothes. It was within walking distance of Mark’s, but through a neighborhood where people knew them. It would have been safer to make the trip at night, but Courtney’s parents would have been home. They had to go during the day. They walked casually but quickly, so as not to draw any attention, and arrived without a problem. As with Mark’s house, the extra key was hidden near the back door.
“We’ve got to do this fast,” Mark cautioned. “If your parents come home, or if somebody spots us-“
“We’ll be in and out in five minutes,” Courtney assured him.
Courtney opened the back door and stepped inside. As much as she wanted the clothes, she worried that this visit would be difficult. She was wrong. It was worse than difficult. It hurt. She was prepared to see things that would make her lament the loss of her old life. She was prepared for that. What she didn’t expect to have to deal with were the smells. Stepping into her kitchen, she was met with a wave of familiarity that had everything to do with the normal smells of her house. It immediately brought her back to the times she ran in the back door after playing ball, looking for her mom and the cookies she knew would be baking. Courtney thought she recognized the faint, familiar smells of those sweet cookies, and she was hit with a sad wave of nostalgia for a time that would never again exist. Once her head went there, it was tough to stay focused. What bothered her most was the notion that her parents must have thought she was dead. She had been gone for over three months. Were they still searching for her? Or had she become a “cold case”? It bothered Courtney to know that her parents were going through such grief. Her older brothers as well. She hoped her brothers had come home to spend some time with their mom and dad and deal with it all as a family.
Courtney’s heart ached knowing that she would never be part of that family again. At that moment, she had a fleeting thought of calling it all off and staying at home. For good. It would have been so easy for her to walk up the stairs, throw open her bedroom door, and crawl into bed.
“It’s tough,” Mark said with sympathy. He knew.
All Courtney did was nod. She quickly wiped away a tear and declared, “Let’s get this over with.”
She led Mark through the kitchen and into the living room, making a beeline toward the stairs while trying not to focus on anything that might affect her again. She didn’t want to see the family pictures. Or the artwork she did as a child that was still hanging in the living room. She really didn’t want to see the dado cat or anything else that might stop her from completing her mission.
It didn’t work out that way. When Courtney entered the living room, she froze. Mark stood still behind her, just as stunned. What she saw wasn’t a fond memory of the past, it was something she feared was a taste of the future.
“Oh man,” she gasped.
Hanging over the fireplace was a large star.
