The Rise and Fall of El Solo Libre

by Peter Nelson

  “So…you’re saying my older self might feel I’m here, and could come and find me?” Alex asked.

  “No. I’m saying you might have the power to find him. If my theories are correct, I believe you already know where your future self is.”

  “But—I don’t,” Alex said.

  The older Herbert peered closely at Alex again. “Ask yourself this question: If you were suddenly alone, betrayed and friendless in this world, where would you go?”

  The more Alex thought about this, the more it made Herbert nervous. “I know what you’re thinking, and you can forget it,” he said. “You’re not running off on a wild Old Man Alex chase to find yourself—you’ve already got a job protecting the city! You’re an AlienSlayer, remember?”

  “Who better to find Fraidy-Cat Filby than his parallel-event-path self, AlienSlayer Alex?” Old Man Herbert said excitedly.

  “Will you stay out of this?!” Herbert barked at the old man. He turned back to Alex. “Okay. Suppose while you’re off wandering around looking for yourself there’s an alien attack? What then?”

  “Oh, you mean the tetraquadzillion-to-one possibility? Strange how suddenly you’re so concerned about alien attacks. Of course, you’re right—I’m the only one who’s always on constant lookout! I’m the only one who stays vigilant and ready for action! I’m the only one everybody cheers the loudest for! You practically admitted it—I’m the only real AlienSlayer in this whole stinkin’ city!”

  “Well, finally we agree on something. You can’t just go off looking for yourself. Your expertise at alien slaying is far too important. Maybe you should even consider going solo.”

  “Fine! Maybe I will go solo! Maybe I’ll become, uh—SoloSlayer Alex! No, that’s not a good name. But maybe I’ll think of a better one! And then maybe I’ll get a costume! And maybe I’ll be the greatest AlienSlayer in all the galaxy!”

  “Excuse me, Alex? You asked me to remind you when it was time to go underwear shopping with your mom.”

  They turned. Chicago stood near the SlayerVator, wearing a bright red, brand-new shirt. EL-ROY was beside him, struggling beneath a pile of what looked like grayish-green rubber.

  “It’s time. I’m off to do my interview, so EL-ROY will be in charge of today’s exit operations.”

  A tentacle wiggled out and waved. EL-ROY’s squeaky, muffled voice came from somewhere under the folds of rubber.

  Slapslapslapslapslapslapslapslapslapslapslap.

  The short little G’Dalien’s tentacles flapped against the shiny white floor as he crossed the cavernous museum lobby. EL-ROY looked up and down the Hallway of Human History, then turned back and signaled that the coast was clear.

  Three oddly floppy-fleshed, grayish-green G’Daliens waddled out from behind a glass-encased Porta-Potty, part of a display called “Humans: Where Did They Go?” Each one’s skin seemed way too big for its body, and they had trouble not falling down as they shuffled toward EL-ROY. The last one bounced off a replica of an old wooden outhouse and slammed into the other two.

  “Ow! Watch it, you oaf!” whispered one G’Dalien in a muffled voice that sounded remarkably Herbert-like.

  “I hate this,” muttered a muffled Sammi-ish voice from inside the first baggy blob. “These are the worst disguises ever.”

  “Shush!” EL-ROY whispered. “Keep your voices down.”

  The Herbert-sounding baggy-skinned G’Dalien spoke again. “If we’re disguised, why do we also have to sneak?”

  “Will you two shush it!” For a little squid, EL-ROY could be pretty bossy. “Okay, move out—slowly.”

  They all took just a few steps and—BOING!—EL-ROY stopped short, causing the others to slam and bounce off each other. The little G’Dalien gave them a threatening look, then peered down the Hallway of Human History. He began waving his tentacles wildly to someone in the distance.

  Dallas and Sausalito were waiting at the far end, in front of the caveman diorama, making crazy hand gestures back to EL-ROY.

  “Uh-oh,” EL-ROY said. “He says we’ve got company.” A group of teenagers were making their way toward the hallway exit. “Stay down. Hopefully this won’t get messy.”

  Herbert flopped his big, green, rubbery butt onto the floor between Alex and Sammi. “I’m surrounded by imbeciles.”

  Alex and Sammi stood facing each other, awkwardly making eye contact through the mouth holes in their disguises.

  “Sorry I threw a smoothie at you,” Sammi finally said.

  “You should’ve thrown it at Chicago,” Alex said.

  “He’s just trying to help us.”

  “How? By getting himself on Total Universal Inside Access: Merwinsville! instead of going on a date with you?”

  “It wasn’t a date!”

  “Not to him, obviously. He doesn’t like you, y’know. He just likes the AlienSlayer lifestyle.”

  Sammi shot Alex an angry look, straight through the mouth hole of her rubbery G’Dalien mask. “I don’t care if he likes me! I just happen to appreciate what he does for us. You think you don’t need anybody, that you can do whatever you like, ignore all the rules—”

  “The rules?! So you’re on Herbert’s side now? ’Cause you’re sounding just as lame and annoying as him!”

  “Excuse me!” Herbert’s voice called out from the floor between them. “I’m sitting right here—I can hear you!”

  Alex ignored him and continued arguing with Sammi. “Next thing you’re going to say is you agree with Rule Boy that I should just go ahead and become a solo AlienSlayer!”

  “Well, maybe you should!”

  “Maybe I will!”

  “Fine!”

  “Fine!”

  The two of them crossed their arms and turned their backs to each other. Herbert stood up, looked at them both, and crossed his arms as well. The three disguised AlienSlayers stood there in their rubbery suits in silence.

  Chicago sat on the park bench trying not to look like he was staring. It wasn’t easy—the interviewer who’d just wobbled over and sat down next to him was the oddest-looking person he’d ever seen. Her wide, flat face had a thick cake of makeup and enormous dark sunglasses. Her hair was bright yellow and hung down like knotty strands of rope. Even in her large, sacklike, flowery-patterned dress, he could see she was very chubby. When she approached and held out her hand, she nearly tipped over—perhaps because the ends of her thin, tentaclelike legs seemed to be stuffed into a pair of bright red high-heeled shoes.

  “I’m so sorry we had to meet in a public park,” she croaked in a strange, high-pitched lady voice. “Our offices are, um, being sprayed. For rabid space badgers.”

  “Total Universal Inside Access: Merwinsville! has…space badgers?”

  “What? Yes! Huge badger problem. Pesky things. We’re trying to keep it quiet, so I’m trusting you not to tell anyone.”

  “Oh, of course. You can count on me.”

  “Fabulous,” she oozed. “And hopefully you’ll return the favor, and feel free to tell me any of your secrets.”

  Chicago looked at her, confused for a moment.

  “Yes…er, ma’am.”

  “Please, call me GOR—uh, GOR-DONNA. Now, let’s start with the rumors I hear from very reliable sources—that the AlienSlayers are fakes. Frauds. Phonies.”

  Chicago didn’t expect this. He was one of the very few who knew the AlienSlayers’ secret. He thought fast to give her an answer. “The only one I’ve heard that from is that butt-ugly, ex-janitor G’Dalien who shouts crazy stuff in public.”

  GOR-DONNA’s eye twitched beneath her giant sunglasses. Her chin began to tremble and a strange gurgling sound came out of her throat.

  “Oh. I’m sorry,” Chicago added quickly, noticing her reaction. “I didn’t mean your source is that dude. It’s just such a crazy thing, and completely untrue, obviously.”

  “Yes. Obviously. Well, I’ve heard enough. This interview is over. Thank you.”

  “What? That’s it?”

  “I’m a
fraid that we at T.U.I.A: Merwinsville! have strict standards as to what we put on our show. We need the juicy stories, the inside scoops no one else knows about. Otherwise, it’s not T.U.I.A:M! material. Too bad. You could’ve been on TV.”

  She heaved her blobby body up off the bench and pretended to straighten her dress as she glanced over at Chicago.

  “Wait! I have something T.U.I.A:M!-worthy.”

  “YES!” she suddenly growled in an alarmingly deep voice. She cleared her throat. “I mean, how wonderful,” she added in her lady voice again.

  EL-ROY watched Dallas swing his arms about wildly.

  “Okay. That’s the all-clear. Let’s move out!”

  Alex was still angry. He glared at Sammi and Herbert as they waddled off behind EL-ROY down the hallway. Standing there, he realized the farther they shuffled away from him, the less angry he felt. What if I did go solo, he thought. Maybe I could be the greatest AlienSlayer in all the galaxy.

  Then he looked down at his blobby, ridiculous disguise.

  “This is so wrong,” he heard himself say. He looked up and spotted the group of teenagers. In an instant, he found himself waddle-running down the hall, chasing after them. He held out a rubbery arm.

  “Uh, good day, maties!” He began shouting in the worst Australian accent ever. “You, uh, bushboogers enjoying your little tripsy-doodle to the museum, thar, what-what?”

  The teens stared, not sure what to make of him.

  “What are you, some kind of G’Dalien pirate?” one teen said.

  “Are you feeling all right?” another asked, eyeing his baggy skin suspiciously.

  “I’ve never felt better,” Alex said. “Because I am not a pirate…or a G’Dalien!” He yanked the rubber mask off his head.

  The teens were stunned for a moment. But just for a moment.

  “It’s really him!” one exclaimed. “It’s a real AlienSlayer!” Another group heard the call and came running. Soon a mob of museum visitors swarmed Alex. He started laughing as he wriggled out of his bulky costume and scrambled through the growing mob’s legs. He began running down the hall, toward the caveman diorama, yelling at the top of his lungs.

  “FIRE UP YOUR N.E.D. SUITS! FIRE UP YOUR N.E.D. SUITS!!”

  Alex’s voice echoed down the Hallway of Human History, followed by the screams of the AlienSlayer fans. Dallas and Sausalito saw Alex running toward them, followed by the crazed mob. They stepped up to block them, waving their arms lamely.

  “Back! Stay back! Official museum business!”

  EL-ROY peeked out from behind the curtain and saw what was coming. “Not on my watch,” he muttered. The tiny G’Dalien hopped over the railing and ran toward the oncoming mob. As Dallas and Sausalito let Alex through to the diorama, EL-ROY squeaked to a stop in front of the oncoming teens.

  “STOP RIGHT THERE! I ORDER YOU ALL TO IMMEDIATELY—”

  FWUMPH!

  The mob plowed through EL-ROY’s flailing tentacles, sending the mini-squid flying in the air. Dallas and Sausalito struggled to hold back the excited fans as Alex ducked behind the curtain. Sammi and Herbert, out of their G’Dalien costumes and ready to go, stared at him.

  “What?” Alex grinned. “Just making my debut.”

  A dizzy-looking EL-ROY suddenly stumbled through the closed curtain. Using all his tentacles to hold it closed as it was punched and tugged at from the other side, he warily looked up at the three of them.

  “Go! Quickly!” he shouted.

  Alex, Herbert, and Sammi flipped the switches on the buckles of their N.E.D. suits. In the center of the painted black cave, the shimmering blue light swirled to life.

  Alex held his nose as if he were about to dive into a pool. He jumped into the air and cannonballed, solo, into the wormhole.

  FOOMP!

  Herbert and Sammi shared a look.

  FOOMP! FOOMP!

  The shimmering blue light vanished and an exhausted EL-ROY slumped over, allowing the curtain to be yanked open. The teens stopped short and stood there in confused silence.

  “Take a holo-picture, why don’cha,” EL-ROY said. “It’ll last longer.”

  “Please, do go on…”

  GOR-DONNA’s eyes were wide behind her very large, very dark sunglasses. She tried to keep her red lipstick-lined mouth from hanging open as Chicago finished his story.

  “So Alex yells back, ‘Maybe I will go solo!’ I don’t think they’d ever break up the AlienSlayer team, of course, but it’s a total universal access look at the real people behind the silver suits. You can use that title if you want.”

  “Oh, thank you,” GOR-DONNA said with a smile. “Thank you so much.”

  “So when will I be on the show?”

  “Well, we’ll have to verify your main source, of course. I’ll need to interview AlienSlayer Alex right away.”

  “Right. Of course. That makes sense. I’ll set it up.”

  “Excellent,” GOR-DONNA said in a deeper, growling voice. She began to laugh in an uncontrollable, not very ladylike manner. “BWAH-HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH!”

  Chicago looked up from his wristwatch hologram and cut in. “Uh, tomorrow afternoon okay?”

  GOR-DONNA stopped laughing. “Yes. That would be fine.”

  Alex hit the grass at the bottom of the slide, rolled to a stop at his little sister’s feet, and grinned up at her.

  “Hiya, Ellie-Belly!” he said happily.

  “You’re in trouble.” She held her teddy bear, who was wearing tiny little yellow pajamas. “Mommy’s been looking for you.”

  Alex stood up and smiled at her. “I’ve just been playing with my friends,” he said. As if on cue, Herbert and Sammi popped out of the slide behind him and hit the grass. Ellie eyed all three of them suspiciously.

  “There’s something weird about your spaceman game,” the little girl lisped suspiciously. “I don’t like it, Mommy doesn’t like it, and Mr. Snugglebuns finds it highly suspect.”

  She spun around and marched into the house, dragging Mr. Snugglebuns along, his button eye staring at them accusingly.

  “That was a stupid thing you did,” Herbert snapped at Alex. “Who do you think you are?”

  “I’m the greatest AlienSlayer in all the galaxy,” Alex said, glancing over at Sammi. “And I do what I want.” He turned and walked into his house, leaving Herbert and Sammi standing by the jungle gym.

  “Shmoodle-Pie! Try these on—they’re adorable!”

  Mrs. Filby shoved her arms through the red dressing room curtain and dumped a pile of underpants onto Alex’s head. They were banana-yellow, with little smiling monkeys.

  “I saw a darling set with the days of the week on them so you always know which ones are clean! I’ll go get them for you!”

  Alex looked at himself in the mirror. Standing there in his old tighty-whities, he suddenly didn’t feel so much like the greatest AlienSlayer in all the galaxy. He didn’t even look like the greatest AlienSlayer in all the Merwinsville Mall. He tried puffing his chest out and striking a superhero-y pose.

  “That’s a little better.”

  He looked around the tiny dressing room, then reached down and grabbed the bottom of the red curtain. He tied it loosely around his shoulders and grinned. In a single bound, Alex leaped from the heap of underwear onto the dressing room bench.

  “Behold! It is I, Alex Filby!”

  He stopped. “Alex Filby” didn’t sound very superhero-y. He thought for a minute.

  “It is I, SoloSlayer Alex—” Nope. He thought again. His eyes wandered down to the floor, stopping on a set of underwear with different Mexican wrestling characters. Alex cleared his throat, then stood up straight and tall.

  “Behold! It is I, EL SOLO LIBRE, the greatest AlienSlayer in all the galaxy!”

  Alex began a series of kung fu/wrestling moves, sparring with his reflection and generally getting all worked up.

  “EL SOLO LIBRE! Lone protector of planets! EL SOLO LIBRE! Enforcer of galactic justice! EL SOLO LIBRE! Butt-kicker of slimy aliens
everywhere!”

  He spun around and did a forearm smash-reverse lateral side kick combo off the bench. He landed softly on the pile of underpants, then charged out of the changing room. POP! The curtain snapped off the rod. As he bounded through the store, the curtain rings clanged and banged behind him.

  “Alex?” Mrs. Filby dropped the rainbow of underpants she held in her arms as her son paraded past her wearing nothing but tighty-whities and a dressing room curtain around his shoulders.

  “Make way!” Alex bounded past the shop girl folding boxer shorts and out of The Undie Outlet.

  Alex got up extra early the next morning and began rummaging through the junk under his bed. His hand felt something slimy. Then something squishy. Then something sticky. Finally, he smiled. He pulled out what he was looking for and held it up—the blue and silver Mexican wrestling mask his Uncle Davey brought him back from Guadalupe.

  He pulled the mask over his head and slipped on his N.E.D. suit. Rummaging through the pile of dirty clothes behind his desk, he found a damp, striped beach towel. He gave it a sniff—a little mildewy, but not too stinky. He tied it around his shoulders and stood in front of the full-length mirror on the back of his bedroom door.

  Knock knock!

  “Doodlebug? Are you up?”

  Alex leaped back to his bed and dove under the covers. He pulled them up to his neck and said, “C’mon in, Mom!”

  His mother opened the door. She gave her son an odd look, shut her eyes tightly, and took a deep breath.

  “Alex, this isn’t easy,” she said in a serious tone. “But your father and I have decided—”

  “WOO-HOO! I BEAT THE LEACACOSIANS! EAT BLASTER DUST, YOU FILTHY SPACE-WORMS!” Mr. Filby’s strained voice echoed from downstairs. Alex’s mom shut her eyes tightly again and continued.