Resurrection: The Return of the Watchers

By Robert W. Parsons

The watchers, who are they? According to the Bible, they were angels, or holy beings. According to me, Matlin DeMarco, they are not.

I traveled into space at the age of seventy. I did not return. I was lost in space and gone for ten years according to Earth's timeline. I did return and, therefore, not lost but only gone for hours according to the time-space continuum.

Since I was gone only a few hours, what happened? Where did I go? And where did I end up? And why was I younger when I returned to Earth, just as young as Michael? I had no superpowers like he did. Are our roles as siblings reversed?

The watchers are revealed. Biblical documentation had been distorted. Questions of disappearances of civilizations are answered. And I again ask. Who was the colonel since we could not find any early life history on him? Was he a watcher?

Enjoy this final book in the lives of the DeMarco brothers. Is this really the end with this final book, or are we starting at the beginning of another story?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jun 9, 2021
• ISBN: 9781662422959

Book preview

Chapter 1

X-Stream Adventures

The blue field is for the Alaska sky and the forget-me-not, an Alaskan flower. The North Star is for the future state of Alaska, the most northerly in the Union. The dipper is for the Great Bear—symbolizing strength.

—Benny Benson

Koloshi, Alaska

Thirty-two years before Alaska became a state, the Alaska Department of the American Legion sponsored a territorial contest for Alaskan children from seventh grade (age twelve to thirteen) to twelfth grade (age seventeen to eighteen). In 1927, the contest committee chose thirteen-year-old orphan Benny Benson’s design to represent the future flag of the Territory of Alaska. Benson, an Alaska Native, was a resident at the Jesse Lee Home for Children in Seward. Until that time, Alaskans had flown only the US flag since the territory’s purchase from Russia in 1867. Benson’s design was chosen over roughly seven hundred other submissions from schoolchildren territory wide. Most other entries featured variations on the territorial seal, the midnight sun, the northern lights, polar bears, and/or gold pans. To celebrate his achievement, Benson was awarded one thousand US dollars and an engraved watch. Alaska became the forty-ninth state on January 3, 1959. Grandfather Matlin and Granduncle Michael began college that year in Berkley, California.

The big dipper, the bear, the strength, that all sounds too familiar with Michael. For his Indian name was and still is Paws as Bears, representing strength my great-great grandmother saw in him. Plus, Regulus is just below the big dipper, where grandfather disappeared over ten years ago. GU Michael said he would take the memory of his brother along during this trip.

Spring 2020 brought a pandemic to the world. Life changed for humanity. Tens of thousands of people died across the world as people were ordered to be socially distant. In other words, quarantined within their own homes as to not spread the COVID-19 virus any more than it had spread.

Grand Uncle Michael could have cured the world with his healing venom. But he was not God as God picked and chose who would be saved from this horrific disease. Therefore, anyway, GU Michael was kept busy all over the world following God’s instruction on who He, God, would save and who would return to the Other Side through death.

Come late spring, the curve had flattened and begun its downward spiral. Unfortunately, the second round of this virus began causing an upsurge in new cases.

Stories of survival came alive as people started to ignore social distancing, and the virus reared up its ugly head again in many places. Alaska seemed to be spared the repercussion of COVID-19. The world was recovering from the pandemic, and Michael’s life-saving talents were being less required by God. Therefore, the trip to Alaska to relax and be in touch with Grandmother Earth.

GU Michael had never been to mainland Alaska. So what better time to take a short break from saving the world? The resort high in the mountains of Colorado came to a halt with the pandemic. Slowly, it and life around the world was coming back to life. Thierry was there to oversee its revival.

Alaska was a welcoming sight in GU Michael’s vampire eyes. Crystal-clean air with crystal-clean lakes and wildlife galore as he remembered his brief adventures when the clipper ship, he sailed around the world, anchored near Juneau. Juneau is located within the inside passage of lower Alaska.

Farther north within the interior of Alaska, Alaska’s heartland, near the continent’s tallest peak, Denali, with its wide expanses of tundra, you will find the small town of Koloshi in the Denali Park region. The forests and tundra are teeming with wildlife and bird life ranging from the formidable grizzly to stately herds of caribou to the state bird, the willow ptarmigan.

This is where GU Michael ended up kayaking on Lake Caribou. Who knew he would end up here spending time with his people, Native Americans? Of course, there are a lot of mixed races there, too, mostly white.

I will now let my Granduncle Michael take over the storytelling for he is the Indian. Robert, being the white man, will write it down with my assistance in editing.

This small village/town consists of almost five thousand people. The Tlingit are indigenous peoples of the Pacific Northwest Coast of North America. Their language is the Tlingit language in which the name means People of the Tides. The Russian name Koloshi, for the labret worn by women, or the related German name Koulischen, may be encountered referring to the people in older historical literature.

Koloshi seems to be at the end of the world. One reason is that the highway ends here. Nothing but wilderness lies beyond. Fishing from the lake seems to be the main industry of the Tlingit people plus their craftsmanship of their heritage. So don’t forget to visit the consignment trading post while visiting. Support the locals during your visit. And don’t forget to bring your gold pan. You will never know what you might find in the wilderness.

The white man, of course, has modernized the town. Coming into town is a Motel 6 where most of the truckers who bring in supplies stay for the night. The motel parking lot is paved with room to park many rigs. The closest town is over two hundred miles away. By the time the trucker loads his truck, travels, and then unloads, it has been a full day, especially in winter since the roads become more of a hazard.

I chose to stay on the other side of town at the Best Western Motor Lodge. It was older, a more rustic designed in a Western style, closer to the wilderness and lake. It only had twenty-four two queen-size beds in each room with the bridal suite having a king-size bed plus a kitchenette, a Jacuzzi, and sitting area. The whole complex was one-story with a gravel parking lot. The Motel 6 had, at my estimation, over one hundred rooms in a two-story building. Plus there was a lot of noise with the big rigs coming and going.

Between the motels was the main business district, which consisted mainly of a two-block span of businesses, north/south, and east/west at the four-way stop sign intersection. Other businesses were scattered at different distances from that main intersection. Believe it or not, there was even a small Walmart near the Motel 6. It wasn’t a supercenter. The residents had seen to that. It did have more to offer than the mom-and-pop grocery store that remained. The people, I learned, didn’t want a supercenter because it would have devastated the town’s economy of small businesses.

As with anyplace else, the town was recovering from the lack of tourists because of the pandemic. Therefore, I had a choice of rooms at the Best Western. I chose the bridal suite since it was the most expensive room in town. The Motel 6 rooms were just under a one hundred dollars per night. The Best Western was less than that to remain competitive. The bridal suite was two hundred dollars per night with all its extras in which I didn’t need but was still willing to pay.

With the understanding, I’d change rooms if the bridal suite was needed. Since business was slow, it wasn’t likely there would be a bride and groom in the near future. The owners of the motel were ecstatic when I paid in full for two weeks up front. They were hurting for money. To me three thousand dollars was pocket change but was a treasure to this businessman and his family.

When I laid two-strapped bundles of hundred-dollar bills on the counter, the owner almost went into shock. That was twenty thousand dollars in cash. I told him businesses all over the world were hurting, and this is my way of helping. I had plenty of cash to go around. Plus I might stay a little longer than two weeks. One never knows. I was taking one day at a time.

Since this was a long motorcycle trip, I chose to drive my Harley to Alaska. People looked at me strangely since I didn’t wear a heavy coat, or helmet to protect me from the rushing coldness of the wind at seventy miles an hour. Remember cold and heat do not affect a vampire. And my wife-beater tank top caught many stares.

It was late spring, the end of May, and the weather was still cool. The temperatures dipped below freezing at night and rose to the fifties during a sunny day. Piles of snow to where it had been plowed to still remain.

I headed to the liquor store and purchased a case of Southern Comfort. I soon noticed that the owners of many businesses were mainly working since business was still slow. Unemployment was high here, too, as it was in the lower forty-eight.

I placed five one hundred bills on the counter and said thank you with a smile. Again, as with many businesses, this owner was hurting financially. He accepted the extra cash with gratitude knowing I would return to buy more knowing I would be in town for two weeks at least.

Again, I questioned, why this town? And why did I want to go kayaking? I had never kayak before. I did fall in love with this town. The people were nice even before I blessed many of them with cash. My tips were extraordinary. And the wilderness was all around me. I felt at home as I wandered the mountains and tundra and spent hours with the wildlife.

But this day, no special day, I went kayaking on Lake Caribou. I picked up the rhythm of the single two-sided paddle. I was used to the two separate oars of a rowboat. I skimmed across the lake on the smooth service of the water. The wind was light and the sun in full blaze. There was not a cloud in the sky. Grandfather Sky shone brightly. I was shirtless, enjoying the warmth of the sun of this late spring day.

Then I saw him. It was another kayaker coming into sight. But something happened. The kayaker capsized suddenly, like he ran into something, which sent the kayak upside down.

Normally, a kayaker would right the kayak immediately with a twist of their body and bring the kayak upright. In this case, it didn’t happen. Within seconds, I was diving into the frigid water to help this distressed kayaker. The young man hadn’t been under the water for more than a minute, but he was out of it probably because of the frigid water and had probably gone into shock.

He did. He had gone