John Ryan

         Eight year old Danny Boone liked to play by the creek that ran near his family's home.  It was hot everyday where they lived, but Danny noticed that on that day, it was especially unbearable.  He ran down to the stream as always and immediately flushed his skin with the cool water.  He drenched himself thoroughly, soaking his clothes to the point where they seemed to weigh an additional twenty pounds. 

         The golden reflection of the sky cast a hue of the same brilliant color across the tiny brook, making it look to Danny as if the water itself were made of gold.  Occasionally a guppy would swim by casually, and it, too, looked to be golden to the young boy.  To him, the stream was a magical one, filled with his hopes and dreams, and a place where he could realize them before they came to him in reality.  He thought that if the small trickle of water were to become a river, then its mighty current could carry him to a place where those dreams would be reality.  Someday, he would think to himself, someday it will grow, when I have grown up too.  It will be a river grander than any that has ever graced the golden Earth before, and it will take me wherever I want to go.  Someday.

         The water was always cool against his lightly tanned skin when he waded in it or fished rocks from the bottom with his bare hands.  His mother said that that was because it came from the melting snowcap of a mountain.  Danny knew only what his parents would teach to him, as they were his only friends.  He had never seen another human in his lifetime and suspected that he never would see one.

         The water brought him momentary relief from the blistering sun, which was by then pounding him from directly overhead.  Its enormous orange body engulfed a large portion of the sky, yet it was not too bright to avert his gaze.  There was something different about the sun that day, not necessarily something tangible, but Danny could feel the change.  Soon after his hasty bath, the water evaporated, and he became hot again.  Might be too hot to play outside today, he thought.

         He ran back to the doorstep, which stood no more than fifty feet from the stream.  By the time he reached the house, he was covered in sweat, and desperate to escape the relentless punishment of the sun.  The doorknob was hot when he grabbed it, causing him to jerk his hand back in shock.  He removed his shirt and wrapped it around his hand, using it like his mother used oven mitts to pull hot pans from the stove.  It was awkward, but he managed to twist it open, and dart into the house before the heat could overwhelm him.

         "Mama!" he shouted, enjoying the echo of his own voice as it bounced off the walls of the house.  For a moment, Danny forgot about the heat and relished such a childhood pleasure.  When his voice disappeared, the anxiety returned and he snapped back to reality.

         "Mama!" he cried again, as he searched the deceivingly large house in a panic.  When he finally found her, she was washing the dishes from breakfast, and humming a tune that he could not place at the time.  She turned around to meet him as he ran into the kitchen, and swallowed him in a big embrace.  Danny buried his head of blond, curly hair into her chest. He had always done so when he was scared, as long as she could remember.

         "Good Lord child," she exclaimed, "what ever is the matter with you?"  Her sweet smile coupled with her bright blue eyes always had a calming effect on the boy, even in his most frightened moments.  For a brief instant in time, Danny forgot about the extraordinarily hot sun, and the mild burn he'd received from the brass doorknob.  He was lost in her smile, and then her eyes, and the whole scene was a great comfort to him.

         Through the window, the sun gleamed into his eyes slightly, amplified by the composition of the glass.  He pushed back from her slightly, and gazed up at her with the face he had a tendency to make when preparing to ask a tough question.  His mother recognized the look, and bent down to meet his hazel-eyed stare.

         "Mama," he whined slightly in addressing her, though not on purpose.  "Mama, why is the sun so hot today?  I mean, well, it's always hot, but today I couldn't even stay out for a couple of minutes.  And I can feel something different about today.  Is something going on today?"

         She broke the exchange of their eyes for a second, as if distressed by his question.  He could tell that she knew something, as he watched her anxiously tuck her blond locks behind her ears, but he did not dare push his mother.  Her focus returned to him, and she swallowed hard before answering.  "Yes baby, there is something going on today, you're very smart.  Today is a very special day, because today is the day that we meet God."

         God?  He had heard about God from his parents on many occasions, almost quite regularly on Sunday mornings.  They gathered in the living room, and his father talked to them about God, only he called it preaching.  He told Danny and his mother all about him and his son Jesus in a book called 'The Bible.'  He said that one day, God would come to take them to his kingdom in heaven, a place where everyone's dreams would come true.  The thought motivated Danny to search for his own way into heaven, which he firmly believed to be located at the end of the stream.  But I'm not grown up yet.  Isn't it too early for me to reach heaven?

         "God's going to come down from heaven," his mother continued, "and he's going to bring us back with him."  The thought of reaching his dreams at such a young age flooded his mind with possibilities.  His father always told him that reaching one's dreams required a lifetime of hard work and faith, but Danny could not honestly say that of himself.  He was not clear on what faith was exactly, and the only work he had done so far had been mindless chores that demanded no real effort.  Nevertheless, the prospect was so delectable that he could not help but crack a massive dimple-filled smile.

         "That's wonderful Mama," he shouted, and wrapped his arms tightly around her neck.  "He's going to make our dreams come true today, yes he is."  Behind his back, his mother's smile faded and a tear slid past her freckled cheek and trickled off her face all the way onto his bare back.  She gripped him even tighter, so tight that he flailed his arms to signify that he could not breathe.  He fell back from her arms, and looked at her sorrow-filled face.  "It's a good thing, isn't it Mama?"

         "Yes son, it is," she said, and regained her smile.

         Around two o'clock that afternoon, Danny ventured out into the heat to search for his father, who had gone for a walk some time earlier.  Danny wondered what could be so important that his father would disappear for so long on the day when they were to meet God.  He supposed that maybe he was taking part in some sort of preparation for his arrival.  So Danny stumbled out into the grain field, looking to help.

         The amber grain felt soft against his skin, as he barreled through its ranks.  The sky, the stream, and the grain were so golden that when he looked at them simultaneously, they blended in with each other.  Danny surmised that there could not be a more beautiful place in existence, since gold was a symbol of beauty, and everything around their home was golden.  It was no surprise then that God should be visiting the seat of his Earthly kingdom, much in the same way a farmer would visit their blue ribbon crop.

         He traveled a good mile before it became too hot to continue, and finally turned around.  His father was nowhere in sight, and Danny began to worry that he might miss God's arrival.  That was when he heard the sound, way off in the distance.  At first it was a light buzzing sound, and he mistook it for an irritated nest of bees.  As it came closer, he realized that the sound was much too loud for simple bees, so he immediately assumed that it was God.  Oh no, he's here already, he cried in his head, and Daddy's not home yet.

         He took off running back toward the house, hoping to catch his arrival.  A few seconds into his mad dash, an object became visible in the sky, one much larger than the birds he was used to seeing.  It's God, and he ran even faster than before, inspired by the vision of their savior.  He came closer to the house, and the object appeared larger and larger still.  When Danny guessed it was no more than half a mile away, he stopped in awe of what he had seen.

         It was not God, or at least he was pretty sure it was not.  The object looked like something his dad had shown him once called an airplane.  As it drew closer he was sure that it was an airplane, with its long, metal wings, and the words written in English on the side.  "Air Force" the letters said, and he wondered what an "Air Force" was.  He waved his hands above his head to try and gain the pilot's attention.  The ship flew swiftly overhead, and the wake of its powerful engines swayed the grain behind it like trees in a thunderstorm.

         On its way past, a small cylinder shot out of the bottom of the airplane and a tiny piece of cloth connected to four strings gingerly sailed the object to the ground.  Danny rushed to recover it, following its descent carefully with his acute eyes.  It picked up speed as it closed in on the ground, and then crashed with a muffled thud into the grain field.  The boy caught up with it, and stared at the thing the airplane had dropped from its belly.

         The cylinder was no bigger than a foot long, with a five-inch diameter.  It appeared to Danny to be some sort of a case, because the sides were made of a clear plastic, and he could see a piece of paper resting against the walls of the object.  Indeed, the top twisted off rather easily, and he emptied the contents into his hand.  A single piece of paper floated into his palm, and he discarded the canister.  It read:

TODAY IS YOUR LAST DAY!

IF YOU CHANGE YOUR MIND,

MEET US AT TIMBER RIDGE AT

FIVE O'CLOCK.  PLEASE

CONSIDER COMING WITH US,

FOR YOUR OWN WELL BEING.

         What a funny note, he thought as he read it.  Why would we leave on the day that we are supposed to meet God?  Before getting a chance to further ponder its meaning, his father crept up on him, and confiscated the note.  He scanned it quickly, then crumpled it up and shoved it in his pocket.  Danny imagined that when he was older, he would look very much like his father.  The blond hair and hazel eyes were common between them, but there was something else.  His father possessed a rugged, all knowing look that Danny admired, and hoped that he would someday portray.

         "What does it mean Daddy?" Danny asked.  His father placed his large hand atop the boy's head, and rubbed it vigorously the way he did when Danny had done something to make him proud.  Danny smiled, appreciative of his father's affection, but confused as to what the note implied.

         "Nothing son," his father said confidently.  "It doesn't mean anything at all."

         They ate their evening meal together at five, despite the urgent tone of the note that had drifted from the airplane earlier.  His parents were relatively quiet, but Danny was eager to discuss the coming of the Blessed Father.  They dodged his questions a little, which they found easier than lying, but were very accommodating toward his inquiry for the most part.  "What does God look like?"  "What time is he coming?" "Why did he choose us to visit?"  By the end of dinner, they had grown tired of his questions, and they sent him off to his room to change into his Sunday morning clothes.

         When he emerged from his bedroom thirty minutes later, he looked as trim and proper as one could get in a handmade jumpsuit, with a white button down shirt, and a red bow tie.  His parents joined him in the hallway a few minutes later; their faces red and sweaty from whatever they had done to get ready in their bedroom.  Danny figured that it took a whole lot more work for an adult to get ready, and that he would find out someday.

         "Come on Danny," his father said, starting to walk toward the door as he spoke.  "We're going to sit outside and wait."

         "Wait for God, Daddy?"  Danny asked, smiling lovingly up at him.  His father looked at his mother, whose normally full and perky lips hung wide open, and then rubbed his head as usual.  Danny smiled as his hair was ruffled by his father's massive hand, and he felt the love radiating from his gentle touch.

         "That's right buddy," his father responded.  "We're going to wait for God."  Danny ran outside, stopping dead in his tracks at the door, remembering the intense heat that awaited them behind it.  Courageously, he reached for the knob, and pulled the door toward him, expecting the high temperature to bake him once again.  Instead, the air was much milder than before, and the sun was beginning to set in the west.  He waited for his parents to lead him away to the spot where they would sit and wait for God.

         Half an hour later, Danny and his parents sat quietly on the thick grass between the house and the creek.  To Danny, the world looked even more golden than before, now adding the trees in the background to the list, as the sun continued setting and casting a slightly different golden hue about the world.  Soon it would turn purple, as it always did when the darkness of the night swallowed it, and then everything would be a brilliant shade of burgundy; not quite as stunning as the gold.  Danny prayed that God would come before the gold disappeared, anxiously hoping to show him the beauty of his home.

         In front of him, the brook babbled incessantly, cascading over small rocks, and splashing against the bed delicately.  For a few minutes, he tossed some pebbles into it, enjoying the ripple of the water as the stones struck the golden waves.  Becoming tired of that quickly, he observed his parents staring at the soft glow of the sun, their eyes locked on the distant object.  To him, it just appeared to be a sunset, just like the other sunsets before it.  Beautiful, but not unusual.

         Suddenly, there was bright white flash in the sky, one that seemed to come from the direction of the sun itself.  Then there was another, and this time, Danny took notice of it as it exploded on the surface of the sun.  He looked up at both of his parents, each one with a stream of tears running down their faces, gripping each other's hands tightly.  Then they grabbed him, pulling him fiercely between them, giving Danny a safe feeling inside of him.

         "Danny," his father said, choking back his emotions, "I want you to be good boy, a brave boy, just like the Daniel Boone I told you about."  Danny remembered Daniel Boone, the man that his father had named him after.  He was a brave man, who helped settle new lands in a wild country, so that people like them could feel safe at night.  The thought of being brave like that sounded like a good idea, but his family was not fighting off an army of crazed savages.  Why did he need to be brave to meet God?

          The flashing continued and the distant explosions appeared like stars crashing into the larger celestial object.  Danny turned to watch, knowing now that this is what they had come outside for.  God is coming from the sun!  It was marvelous; the flashes danced across the scene like some cosmic ballet, coming more frequently by then, and blinking with increasing power.  As quickly as they began, they stopped, pausing just long enough to make Danny wonder what would happen next.

         Then it wavered, the sun wavered like those waves of grain underneath the thrust of the airplane, and the Earth appeared to be more golden than ever.  God is coming to visit the golden land, oh happy day!  A great white flash burst forth from the sky, and a sound like the rushing tide of the ocean during a storm barreled toward them.  The wind picked up greatly, and with the light finally encompassing everything that he saw, Danny knew that God had arrived.  God had come for us and it was good.

 

Copyright 2006, John Ryan

"The Last Day of the Golden" place is the first publication for author John Ryan. He is, by day, a (sometimes) mild mannered Branch Manager for a major paint manufacturer.  By night, he is a man with a passion for speculative and science fiction of all types.  John and his wife Julie currently reside in Westland, MI (a suburb of Detroit) with their two children.