by Rae Knightly
Ryan asked, “Why did you lock the door?”
The doctor appeared in his field of vision. He wore a grey business suit, light blue shirt and tie under the doctor’s white coat as if he had attended a business meeting before coming to the hospital. He studied Ryan with emotionless eyes. “You are Mr. Archer, yes?”
Ryan rolled his eyes, resigned. “I know who you are. You all look the same with your dainty suits.” He stared back at the doctor before adding, “CSIS? FBI? What do you want now? I already told your buddies everything. Can’t you see I’m on my deathbed? Give a man some peace!”
The fake doctor replied coldly, “Yes, I read your witness file. Quite interesting. But many gaps. Your story may have made sense to my ‘buddies’. But not to me.” He sat down on the edge of Ryan’s bed, saying purposefully, “You see, you forgot to mention Mesmo.”
Ryan stared at him in stunned silence, a veil of fear passing before his eyes. He glanced away, but too late, the man had captured his reaction. “Who are you?” Ryan whispered strenuously, trying to hide his discomfort.
The man quoted matter-of-factly, “I am Theodore Edmond Connelly, agent with the Canadian Security Intelligence Service…” He stopped, before adding darkly, “Though Mesmo would know me by another name.” He sighed, seeming bored. “Nothing that concerns you, though.”
Ryan stared at him in disgust. “What do you want?” His breath quickened behind the oxygen mask.
Connelly bent over until he was face to face with Ryan, his voice coming in a slow, intense growl. “I want Mesmo! Where is he?”
Cold sweat dampened Ryan’s forehead. Something odd was happening with the fake doctor’s eyes. They were switching from green to honey-brown, then back to green.
Connelly continued, “You know who I am talking about. I want Mesmo! And you’re going to tell me where I can find him!”
Ryan gritted his teeth. “How can you know Mesmo? No-one at the CSIS knows Mesmo. You’re lying! Who are you, really?”
Connelly smiled at him coldly, pleased that Ryan was coming to his own conclusions. Whereas the fake doctor had been bald a minute ago, now white, prickly hair was sticking out of it. He looked away into the distance, seeming to remember something pleasant. “Let's just say,” he began, “that I am the one who made sure Mesmo’s spacecraft crashed into a million pieces in your fields on the night of The Cosmic Fall.” He turned to Ryan again, waiting for his words to sink in. His eyes were honey-brown again, and the muscle on the side of his neck twitched abnormally.
Ryan fought to keep a straight face, but his speeding heartbeat on the monitor gave him away. He understood. And he was afraid.
Connelly’s smile faded. “Too bad Mesmo made it out alive. My mission would have ended all those weeks ago. Instead, I have had to endure this repulsive human face for weeks. I am tired and impatient. And when I am impatient, my anger tends to run out of control.” He glared menacingly. “I am running out of patience now, Mr. Archer. Tell me where I can find Mesmo!”
Ryan whimpered. With a trembling arm, he tried to reach for the red call button on the wall behind his bed, but it was too far away.
Connelly grabbed Ryan’s arm, pushing it down onto the bed. “Tell me!” he threatened.
The heart monitor beeped wildly as Ryan’s breath became ragged, but his eyes hardened as he gasped. “You are a murderer! You won’t get anything out of me!”
The alien put his mouth very close to Ryan’s ear, making his skin crawl. “Maybe,” he snarled, “I should ask your grandson!”
***
That night, the nightmares returned.
Twisted eyes!
Ben woke up screaming. He opened his eyes dizzily, trying to catch his bearings. When he recognized where he was, he tumbled back into bed, breathing heavily.
In an instant, Laura was by his side, shushing him and rubbing his back, until he felt drowsiness carry him away again.
The next time his eyelids flew open, it was still dark and Laura had fallen asleep by his side. He caught sight of the watch he had left under the bedside lamp and reached for it in the dark. He put it on his wrist and covered his head with the bedsheet. Holding on tightly to the watch with his other hand, he calmed down and fell into an uneasy slumber once more.
***
In the room, by the window, a tall man with white, wavy hair appeared. Though his eyes were lost in the shadows, he observed the woman and Ben’s form lying under the bedsheets.
He took a step forward.
The shrill sound of a phone echoed through the dark house. From somewhere in his deep slumber, Ben heard his mother gasp for air. He vaguely registered Laura leaving the bed, then heard her bare feet patter down the stairs.
The high-pitched sound persisted, finally pulling Ben from his sleep. He scanned the empty room, confused, then heard Laura’s muffled voice turn to grief.
Grampa!
In an instant he was awake, sitting upright in bed.
Ben and his mother rushed to the Chilliwack General Hospital where they found a lot of commotion on Grampa’s floor: hospital staff rushed around semi-dark hallways, talking intensely in low voices. They found a doctor and two nurses bathed in a ghostly, red glow from the emergency lights as they stood in the hallway before Grampa’s room. The doctor broke the news: Grampa had passed away thirty minutes earlier.
Ben listened in disbelief as the doctor explained that Grampa had somehow managed to fall out of bed, where the nurses had found him in cardiac arrest. Despite their efforts, they had not been able to revive him.
Ben stepped away, his mind in turmoil, unable to conceive the news. He watched from a distance as the doctor talked quietly with his distraught mother. Then the doctor excused himself, saying that he needed to check in on his other patients because the hospital had experienced a brief outage.
One of the nurses asked Laura if she wanted to see her father one last time before they took him away.
Ben watched his mother nod.
Then, in a grief-filled voice, Laura asked, “Did he say anything, before…?” A sob stopped her from finishing the sentence.
“Well, he did, actually,” The nurse replied. “But I’m afraid it didn’t make much sense.”
Laura waited expectantly.
“He said ‘Find Mesmo.’ Well, that’s what I could make of it, anyway.” The nurse shrugged apologetically. “Do you have any idea what that might mean?”
Laura lowered her eyes and shook her head.
Behind her, Ben’s face turned ghostly pale.
***
The immigration officer eyed the tall man in the fur hat, then glanced at the dark blue passport he held in his hand. Before him, a crowd of tired but patient travellers chatted while waiting to be cleared through Customs and Immigration of the bustling Toronto Airport.
“What’s with the hat?” the officer asked.
The man straightened the hat with ear flaps, so that the officer could get a better look at his face but did not remove it from his head. “A souvenir from South America,” he explained. “From a guide who trekked with me through the Andes Mountains.”
The officer eyed him without showing the slightest emotion. He checked something on his screen for an annoying amount of time, then reached for a stamp on his desk.
His phone rang. The officer picked up the receiver and listened silently. “Yes, Sir,” was all he said, before hanging up. He stared at his screen thoughtfully, picked up the stamp again and pressed it onto Jack Anderson’s passport, leaving a circular ink mark, allowing the man entry.
“Welcome back to Canada, Mr. Anderson,” the officer said, offering the passport back to the man.
Mesmo reached out, but the officer held on to it. He pointed behind him at the different line-ups leading to baggage reclaim. “Your connecting Victory Air flight to Vancouver is the first exit to the left. You don’t have much time. Your luggage will follow automatically,” he explained.
Mesmo nodded. The officer let go of the passport.
>
The tall alien, travelling under the name Jack Anderson, headed away from the cumbersome immigration officer and let out a low sigh of relief. He strode down the large hall and noticed an exit with a paper sign that read, “Victory Air 217, Vancouver.”
Mesmo plunged through the automatic doors, briefly noting that he was the only traveller heading to that destination.
Five men in business suits waited on the other side.
“It’s him,” one imposing man said into a tiny speaker attached to his ear, as the doors slid shut behind Mesmo.
Immediately the other four men lunged at the alien, pinning him to the ground. Swiftly, the imposing man injected something into Mesmo’s neck. The alien felt his muscles go weak and his sight blurred.
“We have him, boss,” the man announced quietly into the speaker, as Mesmo lost consciousness.
CHAPTER SIX
Mesmo
Two days later, Laura and Ben stood in the rain before Grampa’s grave, dressed in black raincoats covering a black dress and a dark grey suit, respectively. They had trouble concentrating on the priest’s eulogy, as they were taken aback by the number of people who had shown up at the funeral.
“I placed a small announcement with the date and time of the funeral in the Chilliwack Times obituary,” Laura whispered to Ben with an emotional voice. ”But I hadn’t expected anyone else to come.”
When the ceremony was over, people streamed away after paying their respects. Ben edged away, too overcome with sadness to be able to handle a conversation with the locals, who, he remembered, had known his mother and grandparents for years.
Tike had wandered off, giving the boy an excuse to search the green graveyard. He found his dog sitting alert next to a thick tree surrounded by shrubs. Glad to have something else to think about, Ben walked over to his faithful companion to see what had caught his attention.
“Tike?” Ben called, before realizing a man was standing unmoving next to the tree. Tike gazed up at the stranger, his tail wagging uncertainly.
Ben stopped in surprise, glancing at the tall man who wore jeans, a brown jacket and a curious fur hat with ear flaps. He thought the outfit was utterly out of place for a funeral, yet there was something vaguely familiar about him. “Hi,” Ben said timidly, encouraged by Tike’s trusting attitude. The man stared at him without replying. “Er…did you know my grandfather?” Ben ventured.
The man’s face was drawn as if he had not slept in a long time or was fighting off an illness. “Yes,” he replied without further explanation.
“Oh,” was all Ben could say in return, noticing the stranger’s unhealthy grey-tinted skin. He realized that the man was gazing intently at Ben’s arm. Ben lifted it up, confused, then remembered the watch that Grampa had given him. He tentatively turned his arm towards the stranger, the words slipping from his mouth. “It was my Grampa’s before...” he broke off, nodding in the direction of the ceremony.
The man stared at the funeral procession, then up and down at Ben. He suddenly swayed and reached for the bark of the tree to steady himself.
“Are you ok?” Ben asked worriedly.
The man tilted his chin and winced. “Yes,” he said forcefully as he straightened himself.
Ben opened his mouth to say something when Laura walked up beside him. “Oh, hello,” she said to the stranger. “It’s nice to see you again.” Ben blinked at her in astonishment, as she continued, “I’m Laura, Ryan’s daughter. Do you remember?” She held out her hand to greet him. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember your name?”
To their surprise the man stepped back, avoiding her touch by putting his hands in his pockets. Laura dropped her hand awkwardly, not sure how to interpret his reaction. “Jack Anderson,” the man said briefly as a manner of greeting.
Ben glared at his mother, waiting for an explanation.
“I met Jack a few weeks ago,” she explained to her son, her face flushed. “After you were well enough to go back to school, I drove out to Chilliwack, in the hopes your grandfather had returned from wherever it was he had disappeared to…” She waved her hand vaguely. “Instead, I found Jack here taking care of Grampa’s place.” She shook her head, remembering. “I never did get to see Grampa that time,” she said sadly, before turning to Jack, adding, “Thank you for checking up on the house, by the way.”
Jack nodded in acknowledgment. “Your father helped me through some difficult times.”
“He seems to have helped a lot of people,” she agreed, pointing to the dwindling crowd. Two elderly ladies under an umbrella were waving her over. “Oh, I have to go,” she said, sounding disappointed. “Er…why don’t you come over to the house later? It looks like we’re having an unplanned reception. We can talk further there, away from the rain.”
When Jack didn’t answer, Laura waved at him shyly before heading over to the two women who wanted to pay their respects.
Ben stared at Jack with new curiosity. “Will you come? To the house, I mean?” he was eager to talk to someone who had seen his grandfather in the past weeks.
The man shook his head. “I came here hoping to find someone.” He gazed intensely at Ben, adding slowly, “But now I know I won’t find her here.” He took a deep breath, then turned around, saying, “Goodbye, Benjamin.”
How do you know my name?
Ben felt an urge to hold the man back. “Wait!” he blurted. “Have we met before?”
Jack glanced back before replying, “Yes.” When he saw Ben staring at him hopefully, he added, “Your grandfather told me you couldn’t remember.” He paused. “It’s probably better that way.” He turned around again and strode off.
“That’s what Grampa said!” Ben called after him. “That it was best I didn’t remember. But I want to remember!”
Still, Jack kept on walking.
Ben’s heart thumped desperately. He felt a pull towards this stranger. A small lock of white hair sticking out from under the fur hat triggered something in his mind.
Mesmo.
“Mesmo!” Ben yelled.
The man froze in his tracks, then slowly turned. Man and boy stared at each other.
“Grampa told me, just before he died, to find Mesmo,” Ben said in awe. “You’re Mesmo!”
I know it!
Though the man’s eyes softened, he replied sadly, “I’m sorry, Benjamin. I can’t help you.” This time he didn’t stop walking as he disappeared into the trees.
“Wait!” Ben ran after him. The branches swayed gently in the wind while the rain pattered on the yellowing leaves. Mesmo was gone. Ben and Tike found themselves at the edge of the forest, alone. Ben gazed back towards Grampa’s grave; his eyes filled with tears.
Laura waited by the car for him. She opened the door as he trudged sadly over to her. Silently, they headed back to the house, leaving the soggy graveyard behind.
***
Not far off, a plume of smoke came out of the exhaust pipe of a white, unmarked van. Inside, two men in business suits typed on computer keyboards as they spoke through headsets. Inspector James Hao hovered behind them, surveilling the information on the various screens as he sipped a cup of coffee. One of the men had pulled up photographs of the funeral so he could review them.
“Send this off for processing immediately. I want a name for every face on these pictures,” Hao ordered.
Fifteen minutes later, the van door slid open, and Connelly appeared in the rain behind them. He climbed in and pulled the door closed before taking off his dripping coat.
Hao cornered him immediately, hissing, “Agent Connelly. You missed the whole thing! Where have you been?”
Connelly held his gaze before replying coldly, “Investigating.”
Hao retorted in a menacing low voice, “You may have impressed the big guys at the Dugout, wonder boy! But remember who’s in charge here! You do not go off on your own without prior authorization. I want a report on your current investigations on my desk by tomorrow. Do you understand?”
Co
nnelly’s mouth twitched, and it was only after a pause that bordered on insubordination, that he answered, “Yes, Sir.”
Hao backed away, satisfied. “Good!” He grabbed his coat before opening the van door. “I’ll take over from here.” He closed the door swiftly, walked to a silver Nissan and slid inside. Soon he drove off, the white van following closely.
***
It didn’t take long for the house to be crowded with people from Chilliwack. It was as if they had called each other, agreeing to meet. Laura didn’t even have to worry about food or drinks; they appeared magically in the kitchen and living room with every person that arrived. She felt overwhelmed by so much attention. She was amazed as one person after another told her about how Grampa had helped them in one way or another. She even found herself talking for several minutes with a man in ragged clothes, long, unkempt beard, and weird knitted beanie hat. She suspected he was a homeless man everyone in Chilliwack referred to as Wayne the Bagman because he always trudged around town with his few possessions packed in a garbage bag. Laura wouldn’t have been surprised if her Dad had met him while helping at the local shelter.
People lined up to talk to her. They wanted to tell her their stories of how they remembered Laura as a small girl or how her sick mother had passed away prematurely. Naturally, the conversation always tended to switch to The Cosmic Fall, and how the fallen meteors had affected every Chilliwack resident in one way or another.
From the corner of her eye, Laura caught Ben sneaking between people’s backs, a ham sandwich in his mouth. She excused herself from a woman who was asking her where her father had been the past six weeks. She took Ben by the arm, pulling him away until they found themselves in the large pantry next to the kitchen. She closed the door, switched on the light and leant back, gasping.
They stood there for a moment, their ears ringing from so much chatter, staring at each other in disbelief, and burst into a nervous giggle. They had never seen so many people in Grampa’s house.