Iona Portal by Robert David MacNeil Page B

the vision all the way to Devil’s Tower, Wyoming, not knowing why he was going.   But when he finally reached the Devil’s Tower, an alien “mother ship” landed and took him away.
    Only in Patrick’s case, he’d made it to his destination, but apart from gorgeous scenery, nothing was here.  No aliens.  No mother ship.  Not even any angels. 
    He had to admit the place was beautiful.  He felt relaxed for the first time in recent memory.  The turmoil and frustration of the divorce was finally beginning to fade.  It was incredibly healing.
    But what was he supposed to do here?  Where was he supposed to go next?
    In the days following his discovery of the Hill, Patrick explored every part of the island.  He toured the museum and gift shops.  He found the local pub and discovered to his delight that it carried Velvet also.  He toured the medieval abbey and other historic sites but never felt a supernatural presence.
    In all of his exploration of the island, he didn’t see one angel.  And apart from breakfast, he rarely saw Michael.  Michael sat in his room before the open window, laptop on the desk, furiously pouring out the words of his latest book.
    As days passed, Patrick fell into a routine.  In the mornings he would hike, revisiting his favorite parts of the Island.  Near the southern tip of Iona he found an old marble quarry and the bay where Columba first set foot on Iona.  On the western shore was a rock formation he dubbed the blowhole , where incoming waves churned through narrow channels until they exploded skyward in a dramatic imitation of “old faithful.”  On a particularly clear morning he climbed Dun I, the highest point on the island.  From that vantage point, he could see Ben More , the highest mountain on Mull, far to the east.  In the shadow of Dun I, Patrick found a small ring of standing stones not mentioned on the tourist map.
    Following his morning explorations, Patrick would grab a light lunch at the pub and a brief nap at the Saint Columba Hotel. 
    In the evenings he always retreated to the Hill.  On clear nights he’d bring a blanket from the hotel and stretch out on the soft heather between the stone slabs, watching the stars wheel past in their slow, nightly pilgrimage.
    As days went by, he felt he was absorbing the island.  It was penetrating his body with a sense of peace and contentment he had never known. 
    But always in the background was the question… what next?  Surely the angels had not lured him here for scenic hikes and relaxing naps.  Sooner or later, Patrick reasoned, they would contact him.
    And Patrick was determined to stay on Iona until they did.  In reality, he had no place else to go.
     
     
     
     
     

Chapter Eleven:  Revelations
     
     
    THE LAKE HOUSE – IN THE PINEY WOODS OF EAST TEXAS
     
     
    After the initial shock, Piper seemed to adjust to the idea of aliens with incredible ease.  When she “came to,” Holmes was seated by her side.  Eliel had pulled up a chair and was seated opposite them about a foot away.
    Piper stared at Eliel for several minutes.
    Her first comment was, “Where are your… wings?   Didn’t you just have wings?”
    Eliel smiled, a gentle smile that lit up the room.  “Yes, they’re still here.  But when we visit your world we usually fold them back into a dimension you can’t see.  We find it’s less distracting for humans.”  As if to demonstrate, two large shining wings appeared out of nowhere, and then folded back into an unseen realm.
    The sight of the wings made Piper feel woozy again.  She leaned up against Holmes for security.  “So you really are an alien?  I mean, you’re … you’re NOT a human being?”
    Eliel shrugged and smiled playfully.  “Do you want to see the wings again?”
    “Point taken.  Okay… so you’re not a human… but at least you’ve got a sense of humor.”
    The exchange lightened the atmosphere a little, but it was clear neither was sure what to say