Authors: Gary Barnes
Taking advantage of the momentary lull, Bill, the ever-willing political antagonist, jumped to his feet in the middle of the second row and angrily shouted. “I tell you the military is conducting secret research and something must’ve gone wrong.”
“Bill, we've been over this a hundred times before!” yelled Hank Dobbs in frustration. “The military’s not involved in this. Can’t you understand that?”
“Then why are mutant creatures killing our people right after the military left town?” demanded Bill.
“I don't know, but it's not the military's doing,” explained Dobbs.
“I say we post armed guards around town 24/7,” another citizen angrily demanded. His comment was immediately followed by growing murmurs from the gathered citizens.
The Mayor banged his gavel to restore silence again. “I'll not have a vigilante group roaming town with loaded guns,” he forcefully stated. “It's the Sheriff's job to take charge of this situation.”
Bill picked up the gauntlet, “Speaking of the Sheriff, what
has
he been doing?” he sarcastically demanded.
Sheriff Akers stood and calmly addressed the group. “I know that you’re all scared. Certainly you have every right to be. None of us have ever seen anything like these things. I've called the Office of Emergency Management twice but they claim that they have no jurisdiction in animal issues. However, after going through several channels they finally put me in contact with the military. An investigative team from Fort Leonard Wood will be here tomorrow afternoon.”
Bill stood on his chair and began to yell, “That’s how this whole thing got started. We don’t want the military messin’ with our town any more!”
A general din of angry protests were shouted at once. The Mayor banged his gavel several more times to restore order.
“Now let’s be civil,” the Mayor insisted. “We can’t accomplish anything with all this backbiting. Dr. Clayton of St. Louis University has a team that’s been studying these things. Dr. Clayton, what can you tell us?” he pleadingly asked.
“Oh yeah!” shouted Bill sarcastically. “Let the Frog Guys speak. They just want to shut down our timber industry. How can they solve this problem? The only thing they know how to do is put people out of work while claiming to save frogs and owls.”
Another uprising of angry protests broke out – the Mayor repeatedly banged his gavel. Slowly the room began to quiet down again.
As Clayton stood to face the gathered citizens Tina and Larry slipped in the door at the back of the room and quickly made their way to the second row where there were two empty seats at the end of the aisle.
“My team has studied these creatures and the impact crater of the so-called
asteroid
.” Clayton hesitated for a moment, unsure of the wisdom in revealing his conclusions. Then, realizing that there was no other way to rationally explain the events of the past few days, he reluctantly continued. “Um, It’s our conclusion that . . . um . . . well, we believe that the military shot down an alien space craft. The crew probably died. However, an alien amphibious life form that they were transporting survived the crash. It escaped into the local karst water system. From there it appears to have gained access to the continental aquifer.”
Again Bill jumped up on his chair and yelled, “See, I told ya the military was behind this!”
“Shut up Bill!” yelled another man. “Let the professor continue. As long as you keep yapping yer jaw we’re never going to learn anything.”
This only fostered another uprising causing the Mayor to again resort to banging his gavel.
Clayton took a deep breath, unsure of whether to continue. There was no turning back now, though. He had opened the door, so now he had to go through it. Slowly he lifted the plastic dog kennel onto a table in front of the Mayor’s lectern. He opened the door, reached his hand into the cage and pulled the alien out by the nap of its neck. A hush came over the room while several of the gathered citizens shrank back.
“It’s sedated now, so it’s perfectly harmless, at least for the moment. As you can see they look sort of like a cross between a frog and a salamander, only much more reptilian and ferocious. They’re very colorful but don’t be fooled, they don’t make nice house pets. This is a young one, probably no more than a couple of weeks old, but unfortunately they get at least as large as a full-grown alligator, and probably larger.”
Then, forgetting his surroundings as he was so prone to do, Clayton instinctively lapsed into his detached, academic, lecturing professor mode. He seemed to speak with great respect for the creature dangling from his hand. “They're truly amphibious, having both lungs and gills. They experience
direct development
with no tadpole stage outside of the egg. To catch their prey they spit an extremely potent neurol-toxin that paralyzes them almost on contact. And on an unusually interesting note, they can reproduce either bisexually or asexually.”
“So just one of these things could reproduce thousands of its species?” shouted Bill.
Clayton was quickly brought back to the seriousness of their present circumstances. He was somewhat embarrassed at being so easily sidetracked and he quickly abandoned his lecturing attitude.
“Yes, ummm . . . that's correct. And since the aliens have gotten into the continental aquifer they can now threaten virtually every city in the country. They’ve already killed thirty-three people and injured scores more,” Clayton calmly explained, still not able to completely abandon his scholarly proclivity to recite facts and figures.
Ever the heckler, Bill again stood and yelled, “To these Frogodiles, or Salamogs, or Frogamanders, or whatever they are, we're just breakfast, dinner and supper. I say we destroy them all, before they get hungry again.”
“No!” Clayton yelled back, desperately fighting to keep from losing his patience. “This is a new species, from another planet. We’ve got to protect it. We can't just run wild on this. We've got to formulate a plan.”
“And just exactly what do you propose?” inquired the Mayor.
“I . . . don't know,” Clayton responded in bewilderment. “I . . . I just need more time to determine their weaknesses,” Clayton was groping for something, anything, to defuse the situation. He couldn’t let these ignorant backwoods people destroy the first proof of the existence of life on other planets simply because they were afraid of it.
Then from the back of the room an angry citizen stood and yelled out, “You've been watching too much science fiction . . . aliens? How gullible do you think we are? We may be from the country, but we’re not a bunch of hicks. You can’t bamboozle with yer fancy talkin’.”
“Yeah,” blurted out another angry citizen in the back corner. “Just like your kind who took away our best farm land for parks. Now you’re trying to shut down our lumber industry too! So why should we believe you!”
The room exploded into another uprising. The Mayor banged his gavel until order was once again restored. Ordinarily he would have become very angry at the unruliness of his fellow citizens and would have probably tossed most of them out of the meeting for disorderly conduct. This was a critically important town meeting, though. He understood the seriousness of their current situation and the fear that gripped the hearts of his fellow citizens. As difficult as it was for him, because of his usual organized and orderly demeanor, he determined that everyone was entitled to remain in attendance and to speak their mind on this important subject.
As the room again began to quiet, Tina stood and confronted the room. “Think what you’d like, but I know Dr. Clayton is right! Which of you have been personally attacked by these aliens?” The room was silent as she searched their faces. “Well I have! Twice, in fact. Two days ago Dr. Clayton risked his own life to save mine.” She then glanced at Larry. “And just this afternoon I was saved by his research assistant, Larry.” At that comment, Clayton sat up and peered at Larry inquisitively. This was the first he had heard of Larry and Tina’s encounter earlier in the afternoon. Tina continued. “I've seen big ones up close. So close that its breath blew my hair. I've dissected them. I tell you, they are not from earth.”
The crowd was speechless. Opal took advantage of this opportunity to address her friends and neighbors. She stood, facing the town gathering. “My daughter's right. I've distrusted city people as much, if not more’n the rest of you, and for good reason too. But I've gotten to know Dr. Clayton. I trust him. If he says there are space aliens in the aquifer then I believe him.”
“Me too!” Pearl announced as she stood near the middle of the room. “My Honace done bin kilt by those critters, an ‘es dogs too. If'n Dr. Clayton says thar space aliens what done it, I believe ‘em.”
The profound silence was almost palpable. After an awkward moment Sheriff Akers rose to conclude the meeting. “Well, we’re just speculating about what’s really going on. The military will be here tomorrow to begin their investigation. Let’s wait to see what they have to say about the situation.”
*
The next afternoon was a Sunday. Clayton and Larry, as usual, were once again at the Chitwood home for dinner, only this time they brought Dr. Welton along as a guest.
Though they had gotten off to a rocky start at the beginning of the summer, Clayton and Opal had by now become good friends and were again doing the dishes together; Opal washed and rinsed, while Clayton dried and stacked.
“So, those space critters are pretty dangerous?” asked Opal.
“Yeah, much more so than I would have expected, and extremely intelligent too,” Clayton responded.
Opal paused from washing and picked up a dish towel to dry her hands. She turned and faced Clayton. “Well, I just want ta thank ya. After findin’ that out ya could’a just high-tailed it on back to yer home in the city, where you’d be safe, but ya didn’t. Ya stayed here ta help us out; to give us a fightin’ chance. I’m much obliged.”
“I figured it was as much my fight as it was yours, probably more, since I should have recognized the danger. Besides, I don’t want the military to totally destroy them, this is a tremendous scientific discovery.”
Opal resumed washing and passed a large platter to Clayton for him to dry.
“Ya got any ideas on how ta git rid of those creatures?” she asked.
“No, I really haven't had any time to think about it. Since the town meeting last night our campsite has become a regular Mecca for curiosity seekers with hoards of questions,” Clayton lamented as he placed the dry platter onto the kitchen table along with all the other dishes he had dried.
“Well, they’re just really scairt. Don’t let their curiosity or fear git ‘cha down,” Opal counseled.
“Oh, I won't. I know they just want answers. I just wish I had some to give. But, even though it's been really frustrating, hope never fails. I'll find the solution.”
Startled, Opal immediately stopped washing and turned to him inquisitively. “What did you just say?”
“I'll find the solution,” Clayton repeated.
“No, before that,” she said, clarifying her request.
“Uh . . . ‘Hope never fails.’ That’s not exactly how it’s worded in the Bible, but that particular rendition has special meaning to me.”
Opal’s face registered surprise and bewilderment. She could not believe she heard what Clayton just said.
“I just need time to collect my thoughts,” Clayton continued with a sigh.
Opal dried her hands, took two steps toward the table and sat on one of the wooden chairs in the tiny kitchen. She was visibly moved by Clayton’s comment. For a moment, she seemed lost in far away thoughts, then looked up at Clayton. “When I was a girl there was a place I went when I needed to think.”
“I know the spot.”
“You do?”
“Yes, the triangular grotto. Tina pointed it out the first time she took us to Blue Spring.”
Opal seemed surprised, pleased, and confused. Her mind was reeling, trying to take it all in.
“May I have your permission to go there when we finish these dishes, to sort things out?” Clayton asked.
“Of course . . . I . . .” Opal seemed deep in thought again, then spoke, “I thank you for helping us out. I, uh... I lost my first son. It's been very painful all these years. He’d be ‘bout your age. I’d like to think that he would’ve grown up just like you.”
Clayton smiled. Opal brought the corner of her apron up to wipe a tear from her eye as she arose from her chair and left the room.
=/\=
C
HAPTER
F
ORTY
-O
NE
Blue Spring
Two hours later Clayton descended the steep path as it twisted and wound its way down the face of the bluff to the triangular-shaped grotto on the far side of Blue Spring. Reaching the bottom of the trail near the water’s edge he turned to his right and continued along the footpath about twenty feet to the opening of the grotto.
Entering, he sat upon the ground and looked around. The grass-covered floor of the grotto was elevated just a few inches above the water level of the spring’s glassy smooth surface. Lush ferns grew in thick clumps along the trail and around the grotto’s entrance.
The grotto was not very deep, extending not more than ten feet into the wall of the cliff. Clayton leaned his back against the cool limestone rock wall. He stretched his right leg out fully on the ground but bent his left knee, bringing it up to near his chest. He rested his left arm upon it and gazed out over the serene setting before him. The peace and tranquility of this private retreat seemed the perfect place for introspection and reflection upon important or difficult topics.