Iona Portal by Robert David MacNeil Page A

seriousness—that he was receiving coded messages from outer space on his car radio.  Two weeks earlier there was an overweight, middle-aged schoolteacher, paralyzed by fear that the CIA was tapping her phone.  Then there was the elderly man, distraught because he was certain his equally elderly wife was having an affair with Brad Pitt.  Over the years Piper had trained herself to listen to these delusions calmly, without showing surprise. 
    But she wasn’t prepared to hear it from Holmes.  Holmes had always been rock-solid, dependable.  Her relationship with Holmes had brought a sense of stability to her life she’d never known.  The thought that he’d somehow gone off the deep end was almost more than she could bear.
    As he continued speaking, she felt panic rising within her.  Every word he spoke was leading her closer to a diagnosis she couldn’t let herself admit.  Finally it was too much…
     “That’s enough!”   She snapped—almost in tears—cutting him off.
    “But Ginny…”
    “Not another word!”  She blurted angrily, then studied him for a moment in obvious anguish, biting her lip. 
    “Please.” she pleaded, her tone softening.  “I can’t listen to any more of this.”
    Piper turned away, unable to face him.   As she stared at the fading sunset reflecting on the peaceful waters of the lake, she remembered a phrase she’d learned in grad school:   The neurotic builds dream castles in the air… the psychotic moves in.    Everything Holmes had said told her that he had “ moved in .”  He had totally embraced his delusion.    
     Her mind raced, frantically trying to think of another explanation, but she couldn’t escape the inevitable:    Holmes has suffered some kind of psychotic break… he’s lost contact with reality.   She was fighting back tears now.  This can’t be happening.
    She turned and looked pleadingly into his eyes. “Please tell me this is all a joke.”
    “I wish I could, Ginny, but it’s not.” He answered.  “This is real.”
    Tears were now trickling down her cheeks.  “Holmes, you’re my closest friend, my soul-mate.  I…   love you,” she stammered.  “Why are you doing this? ” 
    Holmes glanced at his watch one more time, then back to Piper.  “I know that nothing I can say will convince you.  But the aliens believe the time has come to meet you in person.  In fact, one of them is coming here now.”
    “WHAT!”  Piper almost screamed.
    Before Holmes could reply, a flash of brilliant light filled the room.  There was a sound like distant thunder and a change in the atmosphere that made her ears pop.  (Holmes had suggested a dramatic entrance might be most effective.) 
    As the flash faded, Piper saw a beautiful young woman standing in front of her.  She appeared to be in her early twenties, slender, with shoulder-length, dark brown hair and haunting silver-grey eyes.  She was dressed in a flowing knee-length dress of an incredibly light material Piper couldn’t identify.  But Piper barely noticed any of those details.  What captured Piper’s attention were the wings.  For arching gracefully above the young woman’s shoulders were two beautiful, living, white feathered wings.
    “Piper,” Holmes said calmly.  “I’d like you to meet Eliel .  She’s an alien.”
    At that moment, Piper did something she had never done in her life.  She fainted.
     
     
    ***
     
     
    ISLE OF IONA, ARGYLL, SCOTLAND
     
     
    Why am I here?  Patrick asked himself as he stretched out on the soft heather between the giant upright slabs of stone.  At this point he was willing to admit, at least to himself, that angels, or whatever they were, had planted the dream in his mind.  They wanted him to be here.  The question was, why?
    In some ways Patrick felt like Roy Neary, Richard Dreyfuss’ character in the old Close Encounters movie.  In the movie, Neary had responded to a picture the aliens planted in his mind and followed