The Summer Experiment (5 page)

The Delay

I woke to the sound of rain beating on our shingled roof. The curtains were fluttering back and forth at my bedroom window. Wind shook the top of the oak tree in the yard, which I could see from my bed. I lay there, feeling safe from the storm, but thinking of what Marilee and I had seen the night before. Something just wasn't right. Much as I tried to do what Sheriff Mallory said, to find the logic in the mystery, I couldn't. What were those weird lights? How could they move so fast? How could they appear and then just disappear?

“Roberta, take the screen out and close your window!” my mother screamed up the stairs. “This is going to be a nasty one.”

I removed the screen and shut the window. Then I crawled back into bed to think. The strange lights could have kept my brain busy, but I had more fish to fry, as Grandpa likes to say.
Roberta's revenge
. On my computer, I had already set up a fake e-mail account for Miranda Casey. I knew my brother would be too lovesick to notice when he received the e-mail. Instead of [email protected], her
real
address, I set one up for [email protected]. I was certain this would work.

Dear Johnny,

Please meet me TONIGHT after dark at the picnic table on Peterson's Mountain, near Calley's Creek.

I would, therefore, have a way to e-mail to Johnny from my computer with the same note that would go to her. As far as Miranda's message, all I had to do was sneak into Johnny's room again and send it from
his
computer:

Dear Miranda,

Please meet me TONIGHT after dark at the picnic table on Peterson's Mountain, near Calley's Creek.

There should be a sign on my door that says GENIUS AT WORK.

Why did I want Miranda involved when I could play this trick on just Johnny? I guess it had to do with my being so embarrassed in front of Billy Ferguson. He'd heard me say I like him, and from the top of Frog Hill, at that. I wanted my brother to feel the same foolish way in front of Miranda. I know that Johnny is afraid of ghosts, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. He can't even watch a movie with a ghost in it. He might act all brave, but if he ever saw a ghost on Peterson's Mountain, he'd really freak out, even in front of Miranda. “You are such a
girl
!” That's what I planned to yell at him as he ran down the mountain in the dark.

So my plan seemed fair enough to me. But it was a good thing I hadn't sent either e-mail yet since this was turning into the worst thunderstorm of the summer. I went to my window and peered out at Mother Nature. Lightning cracked across the sky. Thunder boomed. I could see wind beating the water down at Frog Pond. I hoped the frogs were using their lily pads as umbrellas. Every time we have a bad thunderstorm, Grandpa says it's global warming, and that the Air Force is behind it.

I dressed and went downstairs. From the kitchen window, I watched as rain beat on the tarred road and trees swayed low in the wind. Mr. Finley called to tell my mom that two of his chickens got loose and would we keep an eye out for them. Chickens hate thunderstorms. But after thirty minutes of booming and cracking and swaying, things calmed down a bit. Mom checked the weather report on her computer. While the thunderstorm was over, the rain wouldn't be stopping until 10 p.m. This wasn't good news.

Darn. I'd have to postpone a day, but that was okay. That happens in wars all the time.

“It won't kill you to stay in the house for a few hours,” Mom told me. She unwound the cord to her vacuum cleaner and plugged the end into a wall socket. Now that the lightning had passed, I guess she didn't fear being electrocuted. “Read a book instead of playing games on your computer.”

“You know what?” I said. “I think that's a great idea.”

She gave me a suspicious look as I climbed the stairs. But when I heard the vacuum start, I knew her thoughts were back on the hallway carpet.

I locked my bedroom door and turned on my computer. Cell phones don't work in Allagash, as I mentioned earlier, so I sent Marilee an instant message. I didn't want either of our moms to overhear us on a land phone. Some people call this “eavesdropping,” by the way.

AllagashRobbie:
Plan delayed due to weather conditions! Will keep you posted.

Her answer came right back to me.

MeMarilee:
Dad is coming for weekend. Bringing “she.” Will not see you until Monday. Staying at motel in Fort Kent.

Now I was really disappointed, even though she'd be only twenty miles away. But she might as well be in China. It was Friday. I wouldn't see her until Monday. How many people would Johnny tell about Frog Hill as I waited? Damage control only works if you get on it right away. But at least it was summer and he wouldn't see most of our classmates until late August. And it seemed like Marilee's dad wanted to talk to her in person about his marriage plans. That was a good thing. Maybe “she” wasn't as bad as we thought.

Mom wanted me to read a book, so that's what I would do. Actually, I would read “about a book” until I visited the library to read the real thing. This was
The
Allagash
Abductions,
written by Raymond E. Fowler. He was the man who first hypnotized the Vermont Four and discovered they'd been taken aboard a spacecraft and examined. The morning after Grandpa's birthday party, when my family first saw the strange lights, I had called the local library and asked Mrs. Hafford to order it for me. And I also watched the YouTube video of the men on
Unsolved
Mysteries
. This is what led to my awful dream of being examined by Dr. Bumblebee.

But I wanted to know more. Now that I'd seen the UFOs myself, maybe it
would
make a great science project. Marilee and I might finally win the Maine State Science Fair. But as Dad often reminded me, a UFO is only an “unidentified flying object.” It may not be from outer space at all, but from somewhere right here on Earth. I had even googled and found a photo of the Flying Wing. Uncle Horace was right. If I saw it even today, I'd think it was from Neptune.

I typed in “Allagash Abductions” and then clicked on the Wikipedia link. I settled down to read.

The
incident
started
on
August
20, 1976, when four men, all in their early twenties, ventured on a camping trip into the wilderness near Allagash, Maine
.

I smiled. I mean, some towns are known for a brown ball of twine, the world's largest. And one town in Texas has the world's biggest cowboy boot. Bangor has Paul Bunyan. San Francisco has that bridge. I think it's kind of awesome that we are famous for our abductions.

The
group
consisted
of
twin
brothers, Jack and Jim Weiner, their friend Chuck Rak, and their guide, Charlie Foltz
.

“Weiner” must have been a tough name to grow up with. Kids can be so cruel. I imagined the twins being teased about it on the playground at recess.

They
say
their
first
day
went
by
without
incident. However, on their second night, they noticed a bright light not far from their campsite which they first passed off as being a helicopter or a weather balloon, but later they noticed it displayed a strange quality of light. Suddenly, the object imploded and disappeared.

Well, there was Dad's helicopter and Mom's weather balloon. I guess it's human nature to look for a logical explanation. But a weather balloon didn't take these four men and examine them. A helicopter didn't gather hair and skin samples. Even though this event took place long before I was born, it's still talked about in town. After all, it happened right in our backyard, so to speak. Some people even spoke out publicly. For instance, Mr. Purdy, our principal, was once quoted in the school paper giving his own explanation. “There is such a thing as false memory,” Mr. Purdy said. “I have no doubt that these men believe they are telling the truth. But the subconscious mind is greatly influenced by what we see in movies and on television, or read in books. I suspect this is where their memories have come from.”

I wondered if Mr. Purdy had seen the lights that so many others were seeing over the past week. And, if so, did he fall into the helicopter or weather balloon group? After looking up the word “imploded”—it means to collapse inwardly, by the way, to disappear—I went back to Wikipedia.

Jack
Weiner
was
the
first
to
start
having
nightmares. In these dreams, he saw beings with long necks and large heads. The beings had large, metallic glowing eyes with no lids, and their hands were insect-like, with four fingers.

I'm not sure if cats have a sense of humor. They seem to. Sometimes, I'll look up from my homework or from eating a banana or watching a TV program, and my cat, Maxwell, will be staring right at me, the silly human. This was one of those Max moments. Just as I was reading about the glowing eyes and the four-fingered hands, Max jumped from the top of my bookshelf, where he likes to sleep, and hit on my desk. It was a perfect landing on all four feet. Have you looked at a cat's eyes recently? Slanted. Narrow. Glowing. They are eyes that belong to aliens.

After I scooted Max out the door and watched him slink down the stairs, I went back into my room and waited for my heart rate to go back to normal. That's when I heard an instant message arrive from Marilee. Her instant-message sound effect is that of a rooster crowing. I leaned in closer to read what she had sent.

MeMarilee:
OMG!!!! TURN ON YOUR TV!!!!

I clicked on the small TV set I kept on a stand at the foot of my bed. I felt my mouth drop open. What was happening was a case for the record books, no doubt about it. Mom should see this too! I raced downstairs and pulled the cord on her vacuum cleaner. Then I turned on the large TV in the living room and hit the record button so the program would tape. Mom and I sat on the sofa and watched together, amazed. If I live to be a hundred years old, I don't think I'll ever be that surprised again.

“We'll wait for the others,” Mom said. But I think it was more because she just didn't know what to say. She needed time to think, and so did I. So Mom went back to vacuuming, and I took Tina into the den to play with her doll. We knew the family would be coming by later for some Friday-night fried chicken, Mom's specialty. This would give us all a chance to “chew the cud,” which is what Grandpa calls a discussion.

And that's just what happened, with Grandpa and Grandma arriving first. Then Johnny stomped in, hungry as usual and acting like he owned Microsoft or something. Billy Ferguson was with him. Billy actually smiled at me, as if maybe he knew I was alive and on the planet. It even seemed like a genuine smile. But then my logic kicked in. I figured he was still laughing over what I'd said about dating him one day. So I pretended I didn't notice he was in the room. Uncle Horace, who owns Horace's Auto Repair, and Aunt Betty, a hairdresser, arrived next. Once Dad was home from his woods job, we all sat in the living room as Mom played the recording of the five o'clock news.

This time, the cameras were in front of Sheriff Mallory's house and the reporters were crowded onto his front porch. One was even sitting in Mrs. Mallory's wicker rocking chair. They were talking loudly, waiting for the sheriff to come outside. Even Joey Wallace was there, making faces at the camera and grinning like a fool.

“Maybe this is what Hollywood stars have to put up with,” Grandma said. “But we're in Allagash, Maine.”

“They know a good news story when it comes along,” said Uncle Horace. “It's their job.”

Sheriff Mallory was now opening his front door and coming out to talk. I knew it wasn't possible, but he looked even more sad and tired than when Mom and I watched earlier.

“Ladies and gentleman, I have a statement to make,” he said, “I did
not
see a UFO.”

“Is it true that you gave the mayor an official letter retracting your sighting?” asked Andrew Birden, of
Fiddlehead
Focus
.

“That would be correct, Andrew,” said Sheriff Mallory. “After thinking it over, I believe what I saw was a formation of several airplanes from the base over in Burlington, Vermont.” Then, he turned and looked directly into the camera, as if talking to us citizens and not the reporters.

“Folks,” he said, in that down-home way of his, “I realize now that I'm in need of a vacation. I haven't had a decent one since Emma made me take her to Disney World back in 1994 so she could hear those singing bears.” He smiled, but no one smiled with him. “Therefore, I have resigned as your sheriff, effective at noon today.”

A bunch of questions came at him from the reporters. But Sheriff Mallory went back into his house and closed the door.

“Like riding into the sunset,” I said sadly. I liked Sheriff Mallory. He found Maxwell for me once at the top of an apple tree on Mr. Finley's property. He even borrowed a ladder and got Max down.

“Well, I never,” said Grandma. “That's not the Stanley I know.”

“Even if there's a logical explanation for what the sheriff saw, I don't doubt that he saw it,” said my dad. “Someone obviously got to him.”

“The mayor probably,” said Grandpa. “Local Chamber of Commerce too.”

“They don't want to scare tourists out of canoes and off snowmobiles,” said Uncle Horace.

And then, as if on cue, our mayor appeared on TV. The cameras were now at his office for his comment. First, he thanked Sheriff Mallory for all his years of community service.