"Beyond the Dream" - Part Two

 

“Beyond the Dream – Part Two”

            Two days later, at a gas station near a Kroger store in St. Louis, James Earl Ray’s sanity was in a rapid state of decline. What was supposed to have been a simple abduction, followed by a lynch party, turned into something out of The Twilight Zone. He drove all the way from Montgomery in his Ford pickup, which he had loaned to his brothers in the Klan for one crazy night. That St. Louis gas station was the first place where he stopped once the tank ran empty.

            But James did more than fill up the tank. He noticed a phone booth beside a highway signpost. He had to call someone – anyone – to tell about what he had seen. The only ones he trusted were his parents in Illinois. As soon as the operator connected him to his mother, he said in a shaky voice, “M-Ma? Listen, I…I don’t know…I don’t know how else to explain this, but…No, I’m not in any trouble…at least I don’t think that I am. But I…Ma! Please listen to me! Something happened in Montgomery – something that I can’t explain!

            You remember those stories about Area 51? The aliens that the government doesn’t want us to know about? Ma…I saw one of them last week in Montgomery and…NO! Ma, ya gotta…What about Pop?! He thinks I’m being delusional, eh? Well, you tell him that I…WHAT DOES ME BEING DISCHARGED FROM THE WAR HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING?!?!”

            The call was going nowhere fast, and when he was prompted to insert twenty-five more cents for the call, James decided to just hang up.

            In an immediate act of desperation, James went inside the Kroger store, pulled out his revolver, and held up the cashier, forcing him to hand over $120 out of the register. He fled the scene afterwards in his fueled-up Ford pickup, only to have been caught by highway patrol – no less than half an hour later – pulled over for speeding. However, when the patrolman received word on the Kroger robbery via dispatch, James was arrested on the spot. He was later sentenced to twenty years in the state penitentiary.

Two Years Later…

            Ever since that unusual night in Montogomery, Martin had seen a string of successful marches, sit-ins, and campaigns against segregation – all of which were non-violent, thanks to the close watch of Amare Pax. She remained virtually unseen amid every scheduled event, her camouflaging abilities at work. When Martin was nearly arrested in May of 1960 for driving without a license, Amare issued him one through means that were unspecified to Martin.

            It wasn’t until Amare witnessed the Birmingham Police Department, led by Eugene “Bull” Connor, using high-pressure water jets and police dogs against protesters (including children) that she took direct action.

            One late evening, as Connor was driving home in a rural part of Birmingham, something landed with a loud crunch on the roof of his black 1936 Ford Model 68 Standard, caving it in over his head. “What in the name of…?!” he cried out, just as something cut through the roof like butter. The lenses of his Ray-Ban glasses glistened from the majesty of a glowing blade made of light. It nearly sliced at his right thigh.

            Bull swerved off the road, narrowly avoiding a tree as he grinded to a halt on an open field. He stumbled out of his vehicle in a panic, looking up to see something that made his heart race – a blue-and-yellow creature…an alien…crouching all of its statuesque weight atop Bull’s 1936 Ford, like a lion ready to pounce.

            And pounced it did – right onto Connor, who had no chance to flee in time.

            The alien had him pinned to the ground, its hands gripped agonizingly against his arms. He felt like Christ nailed to the cross. The creature moved its face close to his. If Connor didn’t know better, he’d think it was a woman by its features. He got a whiff of her breath, unable to discern the foreign odor it gave, registering somewhere between motor oil and fish. Connor wanted to vomit.

            “What right does a sub creature like you have to call itself ‘human’ with how you treated those people?!” It spoke perfect English, much to Connor’s amazement.

            “W-What?!” Bull stammered. “I…I don’t know what yer talkin’ about!”

            The alien applied more pressure against Bull’s arms, prompting him to let out an agonized shriek. “The protestors,” it elaborated. “The ones you had your men hosing down with enough water pressure to tear through their flesh…break their bones…like this!” It dug her long fingernails through the fabric of his jacket and shirt, breaking into his skin and reaching his bones. Connor bled out.

            His screams intensified, but no one human could hear them from miles.

            “WHAT DO YOU WANT?!?!” he asked his intergalactic torturer.

            “To leave Dr. King’s protestors alone…or I will kill you.”

            The alien spared Bull’s life, releasing its violent hold on him and disappearing into the night. Connor was left shaken from the encounter, unsure whether or not any of it was real or a horrible nightmare.

            His grotesque wounds served as evidence of the former.

            Amare’s threat on Bull Connor did more harm than good.

            The mortified Connor used the bizarre encounter against MLK and his campaign; of course, he left out the part about Amare being a blue-and-yellow-skinned alien.

            Speaking at a rally in Holt, Alabama, he said, “The attack on my life is proof of everything I’ve been tellin’ y’all and every other white individual about these blacks and their so-called ‘peaceful protests’! They ain’t the peace-lovers they claim to be! They will do whatever’s in their power to force us into desegregation!”

            Connor went as far as removing his shirt onstage, showing his wounds to those in attendance. The news media was there to film and photograph it all.

            Many white Americans rallied behind Connor.

            This all sent ripples across Earth’s timeline, which Amare had discovered from her people when she was contacted by her superiors. Atop the Jefferson County Courthouse, where her ship was stationed, she watched the holographic video feeds in great despair – the effects of her interference onscreen: the embellishment of segregation well into the 21st century and many prominent figures in Black History (such as Michelle Obama and Serena Williams) never to be recognized for their achievements.

            “This cannot stand, Amare!” roared the Grand Pax, a man of great importance with chiseled Adonis features, decorated by a glistening golden robe. “The only solution now is for Dr. King to die on April 4th of 1968 – the very history we wanted to avoid!”

            “No!” Amare objected. “I can fix this, Grand Pax!”

            “How, my dear child?”

            “Permit me to consult with Dr. King. I’m certain we can reach some sort of rectification.”

One Year Later…

            At the March on Washington, near the end of his legendary 17-minute speech at Lincoln Memorial, Martin professed to the 250,000 Civil Rights supporters in attendance, “I have seen a future beyond the dream – one shown by a special friend of mine, who I want to introduce to the world.”

            On that cue, Amare materialized right there beside Martin on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial to the collective gasps of the supporters.

            Initially, Amare’s alien appearance drew widespread distress.

            But then something happened that not even Martin himself had witnessed until that very second…

            Amare’s exoskeleton, as well as her golden breastplate and chainmail loincloth, shimmered beautifully in the afternoon sun. Her blue-and-yellow skin had transformed into an angelic white-and-gold hue, as if her complexion was responding to the daylight. As far as Martin could recall, it was the first time she was ever seen out during the day.

            Millions across the globe witnessed Dr. King’s introduction of his alien friend.

            In Montgomery, Bull Connor was infuriated, his conspiracy spoiled.

            Meanwhile, in the Missouri State Penitentiary, James Earl Ray was terrified.

            Following his Lincoln Memorial speech and introduction of Amare, Martin and Amare were called to the Oval Office to speak with President John F. Kennedy. “I must admit, Dr. King,” the President said in a cordial exchange. “That was quite the stunt you pulled. My phone hasn’t stopped ringing all afternoon.” His point was made just as the phone on his desk rang for what may have been the hundredth time in the last hour. He wisely ignored it, in favor of his meeting with Martin.

            “I apologize for all the spectacle, Mr. President,” Martin said. “But, rest assured, Amare means no harm.”

            “I don’t know if I can take your word on that alone, Dr. King,” Kennedy admitted. “Government delegates are understandably scared…some of them believe your friend to be siding with the negros instead of the whites.”

            “President Kennedy,” Amare spoke up. She took a step towards JFK, prompting the Secret Servicemen stationed in the room to go for their guns. John motioned for them to stand down and allow Amare to speak her peace. “My loyalty is unbiased to humanity. To prove that to you, I offer you this instruction: do not go to Dallas, Texas on November 22nd of this year.”

            John frowned. “Why may I ask not?”

            “There is a man – Lee Harvey Oswald – who will claim your life on that day,” Amare explained.

            Kennedy was reasonably shaken by this news. “How do you know this?”

            “Like I told Dr. King, I come from a future where all of these events have transpired. It is within my mission parameters to ensure the greatest figures in history – who have tragically perished – live to expand their wisdom and message of peace further across Earth’s timeline.”

            It sounded like a noble cause to JFK. “Alright, Miss Amare,” he accepted. “While you have my ear, is there any other future intel you’d like to share with me?”

            Amare didn’t hold back on the details.

            As a result, not only did John F. Kennedy live to serve a second term, he also exposed corruption within his own government. In the midst of all this, Lee Harvey Oswald mysteriously vanished from the face of the Earth.

            The morning of April 4th, along the rooftop of the Lorraine Motel, Amare received another call from the Grand Pax. “I bring magnificent news, my dear,” he told her via hologram. “Your actions in 1963 have created massive changes to Earth’s timeline!”

            Before Amare could learn more, however, she was struck by a small, fast-moving object that entered through her right temple and exploded out the other side in a hail of orange skull fragments, purple brain matter, and green bioluminescent blood. Her connection with the Grand Pax had been severed as her dead body fell from the motel rooftop and crashed right onto a parked 1962 Cadillac.

            The assassin was none other than James Earl Ray, having escaped from prison just a year prior. He fled from his snipe position – the bathroom in a rooming house across the street from the motel – making sure to pack away his Remington rifle before fleeing from the rooming house altogether. Unbeknownst to Ray, his departure didn’t go unnoticed.

            Ralph Abernathy was the first to rush out from his motel room to find Amare’s body atop the Cadillac, the weight of her body having pancaked the vehicle. Ralph cried out for Martin, which urged King and his entourage to storm out to see what had become of their ally from space and time.

            Devastated, Martin remained at Amare’s side while his colleagues desperately tried to think of what to do.

            But there was nothing they could do.

            Amare was an alien and therefore couldn’t be treated in a regular hospital.

            Against Martin’s protests, her corpse became the property of the U.S. government to be dissected and studied. Fortunately, in his seventh year as President of the United States, John F. Kennedy had Amare’s body restricted from such disparaging treatment in respect of Dr. King, as well as himself.

            Amare was granted a dutiful funeral service at Lincoln Memorial.

            On the very same steps where he introduced her to the world, Dr. Martin Luther King delivered a heartfelt eulogy to an audience five times the size as those who attended the March on Washington.

            He even arranged for Ben Branch to sing ‘Take My Hand, Precious Lord’.

43 Years Later…

            On a historical final episode of The Oprah Winfrey Show, Oprah invited a very special guest – Dr. Martin Luther King, who was just a few months removed from celebrating his 82nd birthday. Aided onstage by his daughter, Bernice, MLK sat down to an interview televised to a record-setting number of viewers.

            “Would you have imagined yourself sitting here today on this stage, had it not been for Amare Pax?” Oprah asked him.

            “Certainly not,” the elderly Dr. King answered. His voice was very low those days, no longer able to carry the powerful tone it once did. “I am forever grateful for Amare and the vision she showed me of the future we’re all livin’ now.”

            “Indeed, we all are,” Oprah concurred. “Because of her, we saw JFK go on to serve three terms in office, his presidential career itself inspiring Bill Clinton to run in 1974, becoming the youngest president to serve three terms of his own.” That factoid drew a round of applause from the live studio audience. “As most of the folks at home know, Former President Clinton was succeeded by Barack Obama and later by their own wives, Hillary Clinton and Michelle Obama. Needless to say, Amare Pax could very well have saved the world.”

            “She saved the dream,” Dr. King emphasized.

After his historical appearance on Oprah Winfrey’s show in 2011, Dr. Martin Luther King went on to publish an autobiography on his experiences with Amare Pax titled “Beyond the Dream,” debuting at #1 on the Best Seller List of New York Times.

In 2012, he witnessed the birth of his great-grandson.

Dr. Martin Luther King died peacefully in his sleep in 2020, at the age of 91.