He walked to the door, opened it, crossed the hall and using a push pin, he posted his message on a small bulletin board next to the classroom door.

He returned and picked up the stack of papers Angela had brought, sliding them carefully back into the envelope.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Townsend paused to stare at her again before stating, “I need time to think about this.”

“Shall we come back?”

“Where are you staying?”

“Uh, the Lahaina Coast Inn just off Front Street.”

“If you’ll excuse me.”  With that, Townsend closed and lifted his laptop, slipped it into his carrying case and exited the room, leaving Angela and Rickards alone in his office bemusedly staring at each other.

“What the hell was that?”

Joe Rickards frowned at the open doorway and gradually shook his head.  “Well, that was weird.”

Townsend’s note on the board stated simply: Class Cancelled along with the day’s date, again leaving both of his visitors standing bewildered in the empty hall.

***

It was another forty-five-minute drive back to Lahaina, where the two pulled into their modest hotel’s lot and parked in one of only two remaining spots.  During the trip, the two had run through scenarios of what Townsend might say—and ultimately do, leaving Angela worried and second-guessing her decision to surprise Townsend in person with the information.

“He did say he would help.”

Rickards nodded.  “Before we told him everything.”

She turned to face him.  “That shouldn’t matter.  He said–”

Rickards surprised Angela, not by interrupting, but by laughing.  “Shouldn’t matter?  Think about what we just told him, Angela.  And about what we saw.  Unfortunately, he doesn’t exactly strike me as the believing sort.”

“But…”

“But what?”

“We told him everything exactly as it happened.”

“And think about how we must have sounded.”

“Who in their right mind would make up something like that?”

“Have you ever heard an alien abduction story?”

When Angela glowered, he continued.  “This isn’t about originality.  It’s about believability.  And we just spent an hour telling the guy that the laws of physics as he knows them may not apply in a tiny canyon in South America.  If you were him, wouldn’t that strike you as more than a little ridiculous?”

“I suppose.  But this isn’t just from us.  It’s also from–”

“Mike Morton. Yes, I know.  But you heard the man.  Morton wasn’t exactly a ringing endorsement of sensibility in their field.”

“Well, he has the data now.”

“He does—which is what you were hoping to accomplish.  And you did.”

Angela frowned.  “So, what are you saying? Just forget about it?”

“I’m saying it’s out of your hands.  Now all you can do is wait and see what happens.”

“But what if he does think we’re crazy?  We have to–”