In the Desert

Patrick was lying on top of a large sand dune. He pushed himself up to his elbows. He noticed several small formations in the desert sand. They looked like dead tree roots.

He stood and then glanced at Beth.

His cousin had a funny look on her face. Then she stuck out her tongue. Patrick saw it was speckled with grains of sand.

Beth spit out the grit. “Yuck! I’d give anything for a drink of water right now.”

Patrick looked around. The Imagination Station was gone. They were in the same area as the crowds of bowing people. Sand, rocks, and palm trees spread out before him. The morning sun was low in the sky.

The walled city of Babylon stood in the distance. But not everything was the same.

“What happened to the statue of that man?” Patrick asked. “It’s gone.”

Beth stood up and glanced around. Then she looked at Patrick and giggled.

“What’s so funny?” Patrick asked.

“You’re dressed in a bathrobe,” Beth said.

Patrick looked down at his clothes. He was wearing a tan tunic with a long brown coat over it. His belt was orange.

He wiggled his toes in the sandals.

“What about you?” Patrick said. “Your outfit isn’t normal either.”

Beth wore a purple dress and sandals.

“So are we in Bible times?” Patrick asked.

“I’m not sure,” Beth said. “These outfits look right. But we could be anywhere at any time.”

Patrick said, “Maybe the Imagination Station shut down and just dropped us off. That’s not the only thing wrong with it. It’s been sending useless gifts.”

Beth gasped. She looked up and then shouted, “Watch out!”

Patrick felt Beth’s shoulder push into his ribs, hard. She moved him about two feet.

Patrick fell backward. “Hey!” he shouted. Beth landed right next to him.

Patrick heard a soft thud in the sand. He looked where they’d been standing.

“I forgot to tell you something important,” Beth said. “The Imagination Station is dropping the gifts from the sky.”

Several small objects fell on the sand. They landed next to the strange root-like formations. Two of the new gifts were old-fashioned cans. A strange yellow object was lying next to them.

Beth crawled over to the cans. She picked up one of them. The label was white with red writing on it. She read the label out loud: “It says, ‘Corned Beef. Made in U.S.A.’”

Beth stood and picked up the yellow object. It was made of plastic. The gadget was about the size of a small TV remote control. It had symbols and dials on it.

“It’s electronic with a digital display,” she said. “It looks like something Mr. Whittaker or Eugene would use.”

Patrick stood and brushed the sand off his clothes. Beth handed him the gadget.

“It’s some kind of electric meter,” Patrick said. “I wonder why the light is flashing red. There was no electricity during this time period.”

Patrick tossed the yellow meter in the sand. “We don’t need it. But we may need the corned beef.”

“You can take the canned meat,” Beth said. She bent and picked up the yellow object. “I’ll keep this. We might need it.”

Beth put the gizmo into her skirt pocket.

Patrick picked up the two cans of corned beef. Each had a small metal key attached.

The cans were too heavy to put in Patrick’s pockets. So he carried one can in each hand.

“Should we go to the city?” Beth asked.

“There’s nowhere else to go,” Patrick said. “And we need water.”

Patrick trudged off. He put a hand up to shade his eyes. “Finding water isn’t our only problem,” he said. “Look.”

Patrick pointed toward the city.

Two chariots were rolling quickly across the sand. A cloud of dust followed them.

“They’re coming toward us,” Beth said.

Patrick sighed. He dropped the cans in the sand and plopped down next to them.

“What are you doing?” Beth asked. “Shouldn’t we run away?”

“There’s nowhere to go,” Patrick said. He motioned toward the open space. “Let the chariot drivers come get us. They’re probably going to make us their slaves anyway.”