Amy knelt down to pet him, too. “I guess we have to stop calling him that, huh? What is it, the Big Mouth of Something?”
“I think he likes Snarffle better,” I said. “Don’t you, boy?” He panted happily in answer.
“But what are we going to do with him?” Amy said.
“He should live with us. What about it, buddy? You don’t want to go back to wherever they were using you and be in any stupid wars, do you? You like it right here. You want to stay with us. Yes, you do.” I patted and scratched him some more. His answer came in the form of enthusiastic licks across my face. “That is, if Grandma doesn’t mind.”
Grandma laughed as I tried to dry myself off. “I think he’s earned his room and board and then some.” She put both hands in the small of her back and stretched. “Well, I guess we’ve got some cleanup to do,” she said. We all looked at the line of a thousand zombies.
“What are we going to do with them?” Amy asked.
“They’re nice and obedient,” I said. “I think we should just sort of herd them home and tell them to go to bed. If they’re anything like Tate, they’ll just wake up a little groggy in the morning with no memory of what happened.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Amy said.
It took us the rest of the afternoon to herd everyone back home. Grandma thought we should make sure they were safe, so we split up and escorted everyone to their individual houses. I walked back to the taxi and parked it at the little campground just outside of town. That was going to be one very confused driver in the morning.
I met Amy back at the empty town common before Grandma got there. “I guess Earth might have to wait a little longer to join the Collective, huh?”
“Yeah, I suppose so.” Amy shrugged. “At least we have great jobs, right?”
“And we get to do them together.”
“Good point.” Amy stepped closer. “Thanks for saving my hometown, David. Oh, and the rest of the planet, too.” She gave me one of her lopsided grins. “That’s probably in my all-time top ten for nicest things that a guy has ever done for me.”
“Top ten, huh?” I smirked back at her. “Let’s not forget who saved your life at the dam.”
Amy drew closer. “Maybe even top five.”
“I’ll try to be a little faster about it next time.”
Amy got about as close as she could and put her arms around my neck. “And David? Thanks for not saying I told you so.”
I wanted to say it then, for a joke, but my lips were kind of busy for the next few minutes.
Grandma came walking into the town common after a while with Snarffle bounding along beside her. Tate followed, dragging his feet with his mouth wide open. “They’re all safe at home,” Grandma said.
Amy looked at the crushed brick in the middle of the common. “I’m not sure how we’re going to explain that,” Amy said.
“Or the disappearance of a few cars,” I added.
Grandma studied the scene before us and then threw her hands in the air. “I don’t see why we have to explain anything. We’ll wake up tomorrow as groggy as everyone else, right?” Amy and I smiled and nodded. “Besides, every small town deserves to have a few mysteries. Now let’s get home, I’m famished.”
We were walking out of the common when I heard something from behind a patch of bushes near the road. A soft whimpering. I walked behind the thicket to investigate.
“Please don’t hurt me!” Greenie wailed. He was crouched as low as he could make himself, his entire jelly body shivering. “He forced me to do it! I promise! I’m so glad he’s gone! You must believe me! You must!”
“What do we have here?” Grandma said as she, Amy, and Snarffle joined us.
“Scratchull’s assistant,” I said. “Looks like he got left behind.” Snarffle whistle-growled deep in his throat.
I watched Greenie. He couldn’t stop quivering and his eyes bulged out of their sockets as they searched my face.
“Please, good humans, please. I am not even liking the Master. Everything I do is in fear only, never with love, you must believe me. I will never seek him out or help him ever again.” Greenie’s eyes scanned the sky nervously. “Especially where he is going. Oh, please. You must believe.” He implored us all for mercy with his bulging eyes.
Grandma turned to me. “I think we should let David decide what’s to be done with him.”
I appreciated Grandma’s trust in me, but I also felt so tired. Responsibility is exhausting.
I shrugged. “Well…it’s going to take us a while to walk back to the bed-and-breakfast,” I said. “If someone were to race back there and jump in a transporter before we returned…I don’t think there’s much we could do about it.”
“Oh thankyouthankyouthankyou!” Greenie slithered forward, grabbed my hand, and planted slimy kisses all over it.
“Ugh. On second thought, maybe we should—” But Greenie dashed away and was out of sight before I could finish.
We all strolled back to Grandma’s place together, Tate shuffling along to bring up the rear. Everything was so peaceful with the entire town of Forest Grove at home, in bed.
“You know, David,” said Grandma. “I lost an employee recently. Do you think you might consider canceling your flight home and interviewing for a summer job around here?”
I scratched at my chin, pretending to mull it over. “I don’t know, Grandma…The minimum wage is pretty good back in Florida. What’s in it for me if I stay?”
“All the Kerntaberry-and-Mooglah fruit scones you can eat, for starters. I still have hundreds left over for some reason.”
“And don’t forget the joys of scrubbing alien germs off the floor for my dad,” Amy said.
“Hmmm…that’s a pretty tempting offer, ladies.”
Grandma laughed. “Actually, I’m sure we’ll be able to find more important jobs for the person responsible for saving the planet.” She put her arm around me and squeezed. “And we’ll need to start attracting a clientele base again. We’re in the middle of our busiest season, and Tate chased all the customers off before the festival.”
“Yeah,” said Amy. “I miss the senior activities and movie nights with the kids.”
I grinned. “I’ll see what I can do.”
The setting sun was still warm, the rest of my summer stay at the B&B was spread out before me, and none of us was on a spaceship heading for a lifetime of slavery on planet Arslag. All in all, it was a perfect evening.
When we walked up to the inn, the first thing we all saw was the gaping hole in the wall up on the second floor where Snarffle must have chewed his way out of my room.
“Yikes. Sorry about that, Grandma.”
“Oh, no matter. It will give Tate something to do when he wakes up and snaps out of it.”
“ANNGHGHN?”
“Yes. That’s a good boy,” Grandma said, patting him on the back. “I know you’ll like to have a manly job, won’t you?”
“UHNNGHGHN!”
“Are you totally sure he’ll snap out of it?” I said.
“Oh, yes, I’m quite confident.” Grandma saw the look on my face. “What’s the matter?”
“Oh, nothing.” I glanced at Amy out of the corner of my eye. “It’s just that I think I might like him better this way.”
Grandma and I burst out laughing. Amy swatted me on the arm, but she was smiling, too. Snarffle whistled happily.
Yep, it was a perfect evening at the Intergalactic Bed & Breakfast.
A galaxy-sized thank you to the following people:
All of the great teachers of writing I’ve had over the years: Pam Morehouse, Peggy Stephens, John Lehni, Carole Anne Wiseman, Tom Lockhart, Lalani Pitts, James Bertolino, Richard Emmerson, Victor Yoshida, Jen Peel, Uma Krishnaswami, Tim Wynne-Jones, Julie Larios, Cynthia Leitich-Smith, Alan Cumyn, Margaret Bechard, Leda Schubert, Ellen Howard, Shelley Tanaka, Sharon Darrow, Kathi Appelt, Marion Dane Bauer, and Rita Williams-Garcia.
Marcy Waite and Jeff Clark. Teaching journa
lism to middle/high school students and advising the school newspaper is one of the most selfless, noble (and probably crazy) things that a teacher can do. I realize now that all of our arguments over what might or might not be considered “appropriate content” for a student publication were signs that you were taking my work seriously. (Sorry about the occasional insolence coupled with the frequent sarcasm. I’m a little bit better now, I promise. With the insolence, anyway.)
Martine Leavitt, who gave me the gifts of confidence and wonderful editorial advice during the process of putting together a first draft.
Bob Peeples, who helped me out of a tight writing spot with a timely suggestion.
Mark Wright. Thanks for all the conversations about keeping the dream alive, my baroque friend.
Illustrator Christian Slade. Thanks to his fine work, I have no problem with people judging my book by its cover.
My agent, George Nicholson, along with Erica Silverman, Caitlin McDonald, Kelly Farber, and everyone at Sterling Lord Literistic.
The amazing team at Disney-Hyperion Books and Disney Publishing Worldwide, especially Hallie Patterson and Tyler Nevins.
My editor, Stephanie Owens Lurie. When two grown-ups have this much fun discussing the names, eating habits, and general motivations of goofy space aliens, you know they have found the right jobs.
Myra, Logan, and Cameo. I’m sure that I smiled before I met you people, but I can’t remember exactly why.
The members of the Whatcom County Council, circa 1992, who passed a resolution officially declaring the county as a “Sasquatch Protection and Refuge Area.” I’ve never been more proud to live here.
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