by Glen Solosky
the other Flunkies had moved into a tight bunch around the king, even the cook and his friends. We was left alone.
“Hi, Fellers,” he whispered, cutting through the ropes with his pocket knife. “That tricky knot should keep ’em busy for a little while.”
Ledo said, “Arlin, you a geenyus, brinin’ thet pot o’ stew!”
Arlin looked him in the eye. “Aint no stew,” he said. “We best get outa here fast.” He finished cutting the rope and it fell into a pile near our feet.
I said, “If it aint stew, then what—?”
All a sudden, the Flunkies start screaming and running around like nuts. I looked into the crowd, trying to figger out what they was yelling about. That’s when I heard the buzzing and something stung me on the ear. “Yow! That pot was full of hornets!”
“Haw! Bi’logical waffare!”
We ran out of there as fast as we could, following Arlin becuz he knew the way. Behind me I could hear the Flunkies screaming. They was all paniky and confused.
Arlin said, “I got stung a few times myself cutting that nest outa the tree. Them white-faced hornets was still a bit riled from you bumping your head into them earlier, Walt.”
It was like a maze in there, but we finally made it to the hatch. I almost tripped over a heap of scrap piled near the door. There was an old pipe wrench, a busted saw horse, some bricks, a couple of cast iron pipes, and the sheriff’s rifle. Haas saw the gun, too, and picked it up. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, with his eyes hid by them sunglasses and all, but he stopped in his tracks and turned his head to look back the way we just come.
The rest of us practicly fell over each another trying to get outa there. We all tumbled out the hatch and ran from the ship. Everbody started climing the cliff, when I noticed the sheriff wasn’t with us no more. “Sheriff!” I yelled, but he was nowheres to be seen. “He went back to shoot them Flunkies,” I said to myself.
I don’t know why I did it, becuz I aint too fond of Sheriff Haas or nothing, but I started walking back to the hatch. I got about halfway there when it started closing up and the ship started making a low rumble sound like an old washing machine. “Sheriff!” I yelled, “You better get outa there now. I think they’s firing that buggy up!”
I ran to the hatch and grabbed on, trying to pull it open. It slowed down a little—the engine whined and backfired once, coffing out a cloud of black smoke—but I still couldn’t stop the hatch from closing. Somewhere inside the ship I heard the sheriff scream, then the sound of footsteps running toward me. Haas was getting closer, but the hatch was almost closed by now.
All a sudden, his hand come thru the hatch. “Pull me out!” he screamed. I grabbed hold and pulled hard as I could. The hatch started whining again, and I kinda think it mighta stopped moving for a second or two, but then the engine coffed again, and we couldn’t hold it no more. I grabbed the sheriff’s wrist and pulled with all my might, but he was all sweaty by now and his hand just slipped thru mine. I landed on my butt in the mud and the last thing I heard before the hatch slammed shut was Sheriff Haas screaming.
The engine got louder and louder, backfired a couple of times, spitting out oil and black smoke, then the ship started rising into the air. I just laid there in the muck watching as it went up and up until it just looked like another star in the sky.
I stood up, but couldn’t take my eyes off that tiny speck of light growing smaller by the minute, wondering what would happen to the sheriff. Them other guys climbed back down and stood by me. “I seen you try to pull him out, Walt,” said the deputy, looking into the nite sky. “That was a brave thing you did. I’m gonna recommend you get a medal for it.”
Then I realized I had something in my hand. I looked down to see what it was. “I ’preciate that,” I said, stuffing the sheriff’s watch into my pocket.
###
About the author:
Glen Solosky lives in eastern Pennsylvania with his wife and two sons.
Walt vs the Space Flunkies was originally written for a comic book format. It never saw publication. Years later I revisited the script and decided to turn it into a short story. Maybe one day I’ll try doing the comic version again, if time permits.