Alien Abduction

by Irving Belateche

  When I was done with my makeup, I slipped on stylish low heels and looked myself over in the full-length mirror. I had cleaned up nicely, and again I took a minute to enjoy the feeling of getting back on the horse.

  Then I printed out my resume. I knew Mimi had probably already looked up my credits and called some of my old employers—no one in the film industry wasted time interviewing candidates for a job unless they’d already vetted them—but I’d be ready with my résumé anyway. I also grabbed my computer, which held my portfolio. After twenty years in the business, I had an extensive portfolio of photos of the dozens of sets I’d worked on.

  Hannah and Jake walked into the house as I was slipping everything into my bag. Though their voices were subdued, I picked up that they were arguing. I was used to them arguing, so that didn’t faze me, but what did faze me was that Hannah was home early. Except for a rare day off here and there, she always had swim practice after school. And as far as I knew, today wasn’t one of those rare days.

  When I walked out to the living room, Hannah was there, heading to the kitchen. She looked me up and down, and said, “You headed out on a date?”

  I grinned. I had cleaned up nicely. “Yep,” I said. “One of those cute oncologists wants to cheer me up.”

  Hannah didn’t return my grin, and for a second I wondered if she thought my joke was meant to cover up the truth, like I’d been caught red-handed, so I added, “I’m kidding. I’m going to visit a friend on the Disney lot.”

  “Good for you,” she said. “You need to get out more.”

  “No argument from me on that front. Now if only you could convince your dad of that.”

  “Why does he need to be convinced?”

  I don’t know why I answered, but I did. “He thinks the more I rest, the faster I’ll get better.”

  “That makes sense.”

  I should’ve guessed she’d take his side of the argument, so I didn’t defend myself.

  Jake walked into the living room and shot a glance at her. “So did you tell Mom?”

  “What is wrong with you?” Hannah snapped. “I wanted to wait until Dad got home.”

  “Tell me what?” I asked, already concerned. Hannah was the unpredictable child.

  “I don’t want to talk about it right now,” she said.

  “Is it something important?” I already knew the answer—Hannah’s defensiveness told me that it was.

  She glared at Jake for a second or two before conceding the point. “I guess it is. But I want to talk to you and Dad together.”

  “You can talk to me. I promise I won’t get mad.” That was a promise I might not be able to keep, depending on what she said.

  “I think it’s better if I wait.”

  “Just tell her,” Jake said. “It’s not like Dad’s gonna change Mom’s mind.”

  Hannah looked at me as if she was actually considering taking her brother’s advice.

  “Go ahead, honey,” I said. “What is it?”

  “You have to keep an open mind.”

  “I will.”

  “You’re not going to like this. But it’s my life.”

  “I understand.”

  Hannah looked away. “I quit the swim team.”

  “What?” I couldn’t help myself. This was a far cry from anything I’d been expecting. Hannah’s entire extracurricular life was wrapped around the swim team—the practices, the weight training, the swim meets, the tournaments. And I liked knowing that it kept her too busy and too tired to get into any trouble.

  “See—you’re already mad.” Hannah shook her head.

  “I’m not.” I was furious.

  “Yes, you are,” Hannah insisted.

  “It doesn’t matter—just tell me why you quit.”

  “I got a job.”

  I took a deep breath. Hannah wasn’t like Jake at all, and this was a big reminder of that. Jake would have discussed quitting the team with me. And he would have discussed taking a job.

  “What’s the job?” I asked.

  “I’m going to work part time at Gregory Brothers.” Gregory Brothers was an art supply store on Ventura Boulevard.

  “Can’t you work there and stay on the swim team?”

  “I can’t. Gregory Brothers wants me to work fifteen to twenty hours a week.”

  “Tell them you can only work five.” But I knew that even five hours would be tough. With swim team, plus homework, plus studying for the SAT, ACT, and the APs, Hannah’s plate was full.

  “They’re not looking for someone who can only work five hours a week,” she said.

  “But you love swimming.”

  “If you listened to what I’ve been saying all year, you’d know that isn’t true. It used to be fun, but now it’s a grind.”

  Actually, I did know. But Eddie and I had both hoped that she’d get through this period and learn to like it again.

  “Don’t you want to see it all the way through?” I said. “Do it for all four years?”

  “You mean ‘don’t quit’? Is that what you think? That I’m a quitter?”

  “Of course not—it’s just that it’s been such a big part of your life.”

  “Well, that part of my life is over.”

  “What about colleges—what will they think?”

  “Are you kidding me? You’re telling me that not only do you think I’m a quitter—but so will colleges?”

  “No—not at all—I’m just saying that—”

  “Jake—doesn’t it sound to you like that’s what she’s saying?” Hannah said, interrupting me and swinging around to her brother.

  “Leave me out of this,” he said, then turned to leave.

  “Jake!” she said. “You wanted me to tell her. I did. So now you need to tell her what you told me. Please.”

  Jake stopped and looked back at me. He hesitated, then said, “She isn’t doing anything wrong.” Even though he and his sister argued all the time, the kid did know when to put aside petty differences.

  He looked at me for another beat, calm and collected, sure that he was in the right, and then he walked out of the living room.

  “Listen, honey,” I said to Hannah, “I don’t think you’re a quitter, or that colleges will think that. It’s just that—you might have to explain why you left the team on your college applications.”

  “I don’t think so. I’m not a superstar swimmer. I’m not getting into college on a swimming scholarship. And I do have an explanation! A good one. I got a job. Don’t you think colleges will like that?”

  I did—but I still didn’t want her to quit the team.

  “We need to talk more about this before you decide,” I said. “We should talk to Mr. Teller, too.” Mr. Teller was her high school counselor.

  “Mom—you’re not listening! It’s a done deal! I already quit the team! I took the job!”

  Right then, as if on cue, the front door swung open and Eddie walked in. So now, in addition to dealing with Hannah, I’d have to face him. I had hoped to get out of the house without him seeing me all dolled up, because he’d definitely ask where I was headed.

  “What’s going on?” Eddie said.

  “I quit the swim team and got a job,” Hannah answered. “That’s what’s going on.”

  Eddie glanced at me, then back at Hannah. “Wow,” he said. His tone reflected genuine surprise rather than anger.

  “Believe it or not,” Hannah said, “I made a decision about my own life on my own.”

  I looked over at Eddie. “I think we should all talk about this before any final decision is made.”

  “Mom doesn’t seem to understand that I already made the decision,” Hannah said.

  That made me so angry that I was afraid of what I might say next. So I didn’t say anything, hoping that Eddie would take up the mantle.

  But I noticed that his cheeks weren’t reddening and his eyes weren’t fiery. He didn’t look angry in the least. Was it because he was engrossed in his new job? Or did he truly believe it was j
ust fine and dandy for their daughter to have made this huge decision without consulting them?

  “What’s the job?” Eddie asked.

  “A sales clerk at Gregory Brothers.” Hannah sounded pleased with herself.

  “Can you tell me why you didn’t want to talk to us first?” Unlike me, Eddie didn’t sound confrontational.

  “Because I didn’t want to fight about it day in and day out while I was waiting to see if I actually got the job.”

  Just then, in spite of my anger, it dawned on me: what Hannah had done was exactly what I was planning to do. I was planning on not telling Eddie about my potential prop master job until I actually got the job.

  Eddie didn’t respond to Hannah’s explanation right away, as if he was weighing what his options were. When in came to Hannah’s high school years, this was certainly her most rebellious act.

  Finally, Eddie spoke up. “I guess you can always go back to the team if the job doesn’t work out,” he said.

  I was dumbfounded. “That’s your solution?”

  Hannah had managed to divide and conquer, so she jumped on her opportunity for a quick exit.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever go back to the swim team, Dad,” she said. Now her tone was no longer confrontational. And why should it be? She’d gotten her way. “And I promise you the job will work out,” she added. “Because it really is what I want to do.”

  She started to head toward her bedroom.

  “We’re not done talking about this,” I said.

  “I’m done,” she said, before stepping into the hallway.

  I spun toward Eddie. “So you’re letting her get away with this?”

  “She already got away with it.”

  “You’re not furious at her?” I asked.

  “You can’t say we didn’t see this coming. She’s been telling us for months that she wasn’t into the swim team.”

  “That doesn’t make it okay.”

  “I know. But maybe she’s changing.”

  “Changing? This is her to a T—pulling this stunt behind our backs.”

  “What if she had talked to us about it first?”

  “I would’ve put my foot down. And you would’ve done the same.”

  “You’re right. But maybe she needed this change. And if we had stopped her, she would’ve been miserable.”

  “So you’re saying you’re fine with this?”

  “It’s not so much that I’m fine with it. It’s more that I’m fine with her making the decision on her own.” He was doing his best to appease me. “And since she already did, there’s nothing we can do about it anyway.”

  “We can tell her that if she doesn’t go back to the team, I won’t do her laundry, cook her meals, or drive her anywhere.”

  Eddie stared at me for a long beat, and I suddenly felt petty. But I didn’t give an inch.

  After a few more seconds, Eddie said, “I’m fine with punishing her, if that’s what you want to do.”

  “I think we should.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Then why don’t we cool off and talk about it again tomorrow?” But by “we,” I knew he meant me—that I should cool off before we talked about it again.

  “All right,” I said.

  But I didn’t agree to drop it because I was done talking about this. I agreed because it was time to head over to Disney for my interview. And with that thought, it hit me once again that I was acting like Hannah, hiding my possible job from Eddie. That made my anger toward Hannah dissolve a little.

  “By the way,” Eddie said, “tonight my tutoring is going to go late.”

  “Aren’t you done with tutoring?” I asked.

  “I am. But I didn’t want to leave some of the kids in the lurch. So I’m doing a couple more sessions with them while they’re locking down new tutors.”

  “That’s nice of you.”

  “What can I say? I’m a nice guy.”

  “I guess you are. That’s probably why you didn’t get mad at Hannah.”

  “You were mad enough for both of us.”

  I smiled. “You’re right.”

  He looked me up and down. “Do you have a hot date or something?”

  “Yeah—with Lila. I’m going over to Disney to grab a cup of coffee with her.”

  “Great. Let me know what’s new at the Mouse House.” He kissed me on the cheek. “I’m going to do some more work.”

  As he headed to the den, I wondered if we’d have another argument when I came back from the Mouse House. Not about Hannah’s new job, but about mine.

  EDDIE

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  I’d been in the den just a few minutes—checking out police blotter sites again to see if Ben’s disappearance had been reported yet—when Jake entered. I didn’t expect him. I expected Hannah would be the child who’d next want to talk to me. I thought she’d want to verify that I had her back when it came to Jenny’s next onslaught over the decision to quit the swim team.

  I also didn’t expect Jake’s request. “Tell me about your job, Dad,” he said.

  “There isn’t that much to tell,” I said. I loved that my son wanted to talk to me—what dad wouldn’t?—but this was the one topic I wanted to avoid. Still, if I wanted to avoid a cross-examination, I had to give him something. So I added, “It’s with Archer Daniels Midland, a large ag—”

  “I know what ADM is,” he said. “It’s a gigantic agricultural company that rapes the earth to provide us all with food.”

  I chuckled. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all. “Yeah, but on the other hand,” I said, “they feed hundreds of millions at a relatively low cost.”

  “You mean poison hundreds of millions.”

  “That’s debatable—and for a guy interested in economics and business, you don’t sound like a big fan of capitalism.”

  “ADM isn’t capitalism. It’s a megacorporation unfairly crushing the competition. ADM isn’t what Adam Smith was talking about when he wrote his capitalist manifesto.”

  This was turning out to be an enjoyable little debate and not the cross-examination I’d feared.

  “So you’re for the little guy,” I said. “The little corporation.”

  “If you actually read The Wealth of Nations, you’d know that’s what capitalism is all about. Competition on a level playing field. Not one megacorporation crushing the competition.”

  “So how do you stop the megacorporation?”

  “That’s what government is for.”

  “Good luck with that. You’ve got a big chunk of the country trained to think that government is bad. They have no idea that Adam Smith meant for government to intercede.”

  “That’s because of those megacorporations—the ones your generation let get out of hand. They’ve brainwashed people into hating the government.”

  “Can’t argue with that.” I basically agreed with his assessment of capitalism, that it had gone off the rails, and I was proud that he could articulate his point of view.

  “Good,” he said. “Now that we’ve got that squared away, exactly what are you doing for your new corporate overlord?” The good times had ended, and the cross-examination was back on.

  “I’m doing research for their commodities trading division,” I said.

  “ADM also trades commodities? If that’s not a conflict of interest, I don’t know what is. They grow the stuff and get to bet on it?”

  “It’s a hedge,” I said. “A way to protect themselves and stabilize prices.”

  “I know what a hedge is. But the truth is that it’s a hedge when farmers do it. When ADM does it, it’s cheating. They have inside information, so it’s a big money-making scam.”

  “Well… then… I guess I’m part of that scam.” That almost got a grin out of him.

  “And what role will you be playing in that scam?” he said.

  I gave him the same cover story that I’d given Jenny, that I’d be researching small companies that play different roles in commodities trading, compan
ies that ADM was interested in buying.

  “You mean you’re going to crush the competition,” he said.

  “We like to think of it as acquisitions.”

  That not only got him to grin, it got him to laugh. And I thought I might be out of the woods. But he came up with another question.

  “Are you working with economists and mathematicians?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said, and regretted it immediately. If I had understood what he was getting at, I would’ve said “yes” instead of the weak “I don’t know,” which betrayed a lack of understanding about acquisitions.

  “You’d think they’d have someone who can crunch the numbers to do the quantitative analysis of the companies,” he said.

  They probably would—wouldn’t they? “I focus on the management,” I said, trying to regroup. “But I’m sure they have financial analysts who pore through the numbers.”

  Jake raised his eyebrows skeptically. But I couldn’t tell if he was skeptical about my answer or about the job itself. And I didn’t have a chance to find out because his phone buzzed.

  He pulled it out of his pocket, glanced at it, and then said, “I gotta go.”

  He made a quick exit—and just like that, the cross-examination was over.

  But I was left with the task of fleshing out my cover story, just in case Jake asked for more details later on. And since I had some time left before I needed to head to Burbank, I started in on that task, looking up commodity trading firms.

  But my thoughts soon went from my own son to Mason, Ben Kingsley’s son.

  I’d ruined his life.

  Mason was more than likely in some sort of psychological limbo. He was probably in denial about his dad’s disappearance, because only a day had passed. But soon his denial would grow into anguish, and then—in a few days, or in a week, or maybe in a month—his anguish would grow into unbearable heartbreak. He’d have to accept that something awful had happened to his dad. He’d have to accept that he’d never see his dad again. He’d be devastated.

  I wanted to help the kid. But there wasn’t anything I could do.

  No—that isn’t true.

  I could help him financially, as I was doing with my own family. Certainly Ben had made some investments that would help Mason and his mom. But I was sure that Ben had also kept lot of his earnings in cash—in that safe behind the tapestry. Otherwise he would’ve risked being audited.