The Three-Chambered Peanut

by Mark Johnson

“So how is Fuzzy?” asked Dr. Hans Marlow.

“Still ticking,” answered Thomas Trufant, his research assistant.

Fuzzy was the shortened nickname for Dwarf Star 2007-1AC. The pair had been following the existence of this failing stellar wonder for nearly four years. Their laboratory sat high atop the plateau on the Montana Highline, over 200 miles north of Miles City. That was the nearest population base for these educated scientists, who spent most of their time in the seclusion of their research surroundings. Seclusion in this case was a relative term. They were equipped with the best telescopes, monitoring devices, and satellite technology that money could buy. So the galaxy was at their doorstep, but humanity was far, far away.

“I was going to make a trek to town today. Do you need anything?” Hans shucked peanuts continuously while he nervously wandered the lab. His hair was a mess, and a little sunlight would do him good.

“Yes, I’ll make a list.” Trufant hoped he would finally have time to clean up all the peanut shells with which his Senior Researcher constantly littered their workspace.

“I actually have more than just a grocery run in mind,” said Hans. “I’m going to meet with a Japanese group that is interested in what we have going on here.”

“Well then, figure in a little extra time to get a haircut.”  Trufant had no interest in the details of the meeting.

Hans was the founder of the Marlow Initiative. His experience as a former NASA physicist gave him insight to a project that many encouraged him not to embark on. After years of watching the galaxies for the government, one day changed his career path forever. He happened onto a dwarf star that was on the edge of burnout and would soon become a black hole. That in itself was a wonder of science, that a huge mass of nuclear fusion could ignite itself and suddenly expend all of its energy, leaving a core of iron so dense that its gravity grabs everything within millions of miles. But this star was special. At the very moment that it should have turned into a black hole, there was a moment of light. And not just light, but dazzling, wondrous color that danced and showered for what seemed like hours, though it lasted only seconds. It was so beautiful, he could not describe it. But the cosmic etching would never leave his mind.

That display had captured him to the present day. The problem with his discovery was that it was total happenstance. NASA was not tracking the small, scientifically irrelevant star. So his findings were never recorded. Many collogues dismissed him and his supposed discovery. They said he was crazy.

Over time Marlow shaped a theory that this brief moment between burning star and black hole was something not of Earth, Space or Science, but instead came from Heaven, or possibly it was heaven. Maybe the stars that fueled the universe were actually the secret gateway to another dimension that held the secret to creation. Of course, this was too much for NASA, and Dr. Marlow’s dismissal was as sure as the gravity from a black hole.

“A haircut, of course.” Marlow hurried off, leaving a trail of peanut shells.

“I’ll put my list on your desk,” Thomas mentioned.

Thomas had first met Dr. Marlow at a Starbucks in Seattle. He was fresh out of Washington State and was scanning the classifieds, looking for his first job in the scientific community. He overheard a bearded man telling a far-out tale about the research he was doing in Montana. The story was amazing, but it was spun as true research, and he could tell that the investor was listening with cautious curiosity. As he continued to spy, Thomas saw a large check being written to the Marlow Initiative, so he decided to introduce himself to Dr. Marlow. He was captivated by the thought that someone was trying to prove a tangible scientific connection between heaven and earth. A job was offered, and Thomas had worked on the Montana Highline ever since.

“Here you are. I’ll keep an eye on Fuzzy.” Trufant handed his list of snacks, toiletries, and other things to Marlow as the researcher scurried out the door. Hans had become quite the fundraiser. In a way, it placed greater importance on Thomas’s role. Trufant had felt for years now that Dr. Marlow had been swayed more and more by grants and donations, and that it had possibly become more important than his work. Marlow had a certain sense of pride in the fact that an excommunicated NASA scientist could build such an extravagant facility in such a remote location. But Trufant just stuck to the research. That was most important to him, even though he had lived in seclusion for years and had yet to witness what he was out to observe. There was just something about the way Hans told his story that made him think it had to be true.

With one eye on his equipment and another on the floor, he began to sweep up peanut litter, even if the cleanliness would be short-lived with the pending return of Dr. Marlow sometime in the next day.

Suddenly a flicker caught Thomas’s eye. He rushed to the screen. Fuzzy had nearly disappeared, and all was black.

He blinked his eyes and felt a tap on the shoulder.

“The Kingdom is Eternal.”

Thomas spun around, expecting to see Marlow, but the man wasn’t to be found. Suddenly scared, he backed up, knocking his broom to the floor.

“Who’s there?” he asked.

But no one answered. Beads of sweat formed on Thomas’s brow, his heart pounded in his throat. He glanced over at a monitor that had gone white. He ran to the powerful telescope and squinted into the eyepiece.

What Thomas saw was spectacular. Colors more vibrant than in a springtime garden. Whirling fireworks that shot through the expanses of space. The sight burned his eyes, but he could not take them off the spot where Dwarf Star 2007-1AC had once resided. The lights dazzled for what seemed like days to him, and fear left his body.

He saw what science could not explain and what Dr. Marlow had been trying to rediscover for decades. He went to the recording devices and saw—

His broom!

In his moment of fear and anxiety it had been flung across the room and into the equipment. It was soon apparent that what his eyes had seen, science once again had failed to record.

“How will I explain this to Hans?” Thomas wondered out loud.

Exasperated by what had just happened, he spent the next day confused, sitting at his desk chair.

“Guess what!” Dr. Hans Marlow trudged into the laboratory with his arms full of grocery bags.

“What?” Thomas replied in a depressed voice.

“Well, the Japanese want to open a research institute in their country. They think a change in location might help replicate my NASA experience.”

“Oh,” Thomas muttered

“And when I opened my fresh crate of salted peanuts, the first one I grabbed was a three-chambered peanut, an omen of good things to come, I would say.”

“You aren’t going to believe what I’m going to tell you,” Thomas said.

Dr. Marlow looked at the black hole on the screen monitor. His jaw dropped in silence.

“I saw it,” Thomas said in a calm, yet depressed state, “but it didn’t record.”

Dr. Marlow’s jaw dropped further, still in silence.

“I’m sorry. Please, say something. I can’t believe it didn’t record. It just happened so fast. I wish I could prove it to you.”

“Oh you can,” Dr. Marlow said. “What did the voice tell you?”

 
##

A last word:

In Matthew 17: 1 – 13, Jesus was transfigured on the mountain, revealing his true glory. Only a few of the twelve disciples saw this awesome sight, and it confused them at the time. It was only after Jesus had died and risen again that the Transfiguration made sense to the disciples. This is further proof to us that we shouldn’t let God’s signs in our life confuse us, but instead use them as proof that his Kingdom in Heaven awaits us.

  
[-] © 2007 by Mark Johnson