by Geof Johnson
They walked around the barricade to the beginning of the trail and Zach led him up the path. The woods looked surreal and unfamiliar, with sleet and ice already blanketing the narrow course between the trees. More white powder was accumulating in thick clumps on the stark, bare limbs.
Grandpa pointed at one. “That’s how the electricity ends up going out. The branches start getting too heavy, especially during an ice storm, and they fall onto power lines and knock ’em down.” He grimaced as the wind blew stinging sleet into their faces. “How far we gotta go? This is awful.”
“Just a little bit more, I think. Just so nobody can see us from the road.”
“Nobody’s out right now but us.”
“We still have to be careful.” They walked a little while longer until they were completely hidden by the trees and Zach said, “This is good.”
They stopped and waited, sleet rattling off the umbrella in a relentless drum roll. Zach pressed closer to his grandfather to stay dry and warm, or as warm as possible under the circumstances. It was miserably cold, even wearing his heavy jacket, and his teeth chattered while he hunched his shoulders.
A few minutes later, Bo appeared. He had his canvas bag and his quiver full of arrows draped over his shoulders, and he carried two bows in one hand, his regular one and the smaller one he’d made for Zach and his friends. He wore no coat, even though he was being pelted by the sleet. He didn’t seem to notice.
“That was fast, Bo,” Zach said.
“I was already in my cabin, sheltering from the inclement weather.”
“How far is that?” Grandpa said.
Bo shrugged and looked at Zach, and Zach said, “He doesn’t think in terms of our distances, but I think it’s at least a couple of miles.”
Grandpa furrowed his brow. “You ran two miles in that little bit of time? Probably wasn’t but six or seven minutes.”
“I would’ve been here sooner, but I had to shut down the stove and secure my cabin.”
“You must’ve flown, then.” Grandpa gestured with his thumb back toward the road. “If you’re ready, let’s go.”
They hurried to the truck, which was now covered with white, including the windshield, and they climbed in. Grandpa got behind the steering wheel and Zach slid to the middle of the bench seat, but Bo hesitated for a moment, assessing the situation. “There’s not much room.” He dropped his bag, the quiver, and the two bows in the bed and stepped inside.
It was a tight fit in the suddenly small cab. Even scrunched down as low as possible with his neck bent, Bo’s head pushed against the upholstered ceiling and his knees pressed up to his chest. He had to turn nearly sideways to keep from squashing Zach, and ended up rolling the window down at Grandpa’s suggestion and leaning one huge arm and shoulder out over the door. The biting wind blew in and Zach shivered and clenched his teeth.
“Are we all in?” Grandpa said.
“Think so,” Zach said. “Let’s go.
Grandpa started the engine, turned on the wipers, and Zach looked out of the cleared windshield to see another pickup truck drive all the way up to them and block them in, its bumper against the front fender on Bo’s side.
“Now what?” Grandpa said.
The driver of the other vehicle rolled his window down and poked his head out. He wore a camo cap and had a scruffy beard.
Uncle Marty.
“I thought I seen some tracks in the road,” he drawled. “I come here to see what fool would be driving in this mess.”
Bo turned to Zach and whispered, “I know that man.”
“It’s Jason, Justin, and Shelby’s uncle. He’s bad news.”
“What do we do? It appears that he is obstructing our way.”
“And I don’t have my gun,” Grandpa said quietly. “And he has his. I can see it in the rack behind his seat. I hope he’s not high.”
Zach and his grandfather were partially hidden from view by Bo’s enormous form, and Uncle Marty leaned farther out of his window and squinted at them through the sleet, which pelted off the bill of his cap and his shoulders. “Who all’s in there, anyway?” Then a look of surprise crossed his face when his eyes focused on Bo. “Hey, I know you! You’re the…you’re the white giant!” He hooted and grinned. “The Bigfoot of the Nantahala. I’ll be damned! I been huntin’ you for a long time.”
Bo’s reaction was swift and fierce. He snapped his head forward and growled out of the window, “You callin’ me a Bigfoot?” His southern accent was perfect, like a man who’d just walked out of the hills. “Them’s fightin’ words. How ’bout I get out of this here truck and whup yer ass?”
Uncle Marty didn’t respond immediately except for wrinkling his brow, so Bo shouted, “Let’s have at it, right here and now, me and you.” He jabbed a finger in Uncle Marty’s direction. With his arm fully extended, it became obvious how big it was. His sleeve didn’t reach his elbow, and his massive muscles were clearly visible, even in the sleeting storm.
Uncle Marty’s eyes flared and he retreated into the safety of his cab. He turned and glanced at his rifle in the rack behind him, as if considering using it, but seemed to change his mind. He leaned his head back out of the window and said, “Uh…not in this weather. I guess I was wrong, so sorry about that, and, uh…I gotta meet somebody right now. I just come down this street to see what was goin’ on, that’s all.” He quickly rolled his window up and threw his truck in reverse, then drove away, slipping and sliding as he rushed down the frozen street.
“Wow,” Zach said, “you sounded just like a local, Bo. Jason and Justin would be proud of you. I think you just fooled their uncle.”
“I have been practicing.”
“You sound like one of us,” Grandpa said with a wide, appreciative smile.
“He is one of us, Grandpa,” Zach said.
“I’d say so.” He put his truck in gear and said, “Let’s go home.”
* * *
Liz cradled the phone between her shoulder and her ear so she could keep talking with her hands free. She pulled her refrigerator door open and looked inside. “No, I’m sure we have plenty, Tina. Don’t bring any food.”
“What if the power goes out and stays out for days, like it did last year?” Tina said.
“Put your meat and milk and anything else like that in your garage. It’ll stay cold enough.”
“But if we eat all your food, you won’t have enough.”
“Then we can walk back to your house and get some of yours. Now hurry up and get here! You won’t be able to drive much longer because of the slippery roads.”
“What do I need to bring besides some clothes and toothbrushes for me and the kids?”
“Sleeping bags, if you have any. I figure we can all sleep in my living room by the fireplace if the power goes out. I have plenty of firewood and blankets, and my new windows are well insulated. We’ll be warm enough.”
“Is everybody there?”
“Your kids are, and Zach is with my dad at his house, I think. They might be getting some of his firewood or his propane camp stove.” She heard voices coming from the terrace and she said, “I think I hear them now. How quickly can you get here?”
“Ten minutes.”
Liz hung up and turned as the back door opened, and Zach and her father stepped inside. Surprisingly, a third man followed. “What?” she said, stunned by what she saw.
He was huge, the biggest man she’d ever seen. He had to duck to fit under the top of the doorway, and once inside, he straightened to his full height, and her mouth fell open at the unexpected sight.
He towered over her so that she had to look almost straight up to see his face. His eyes were wide and neon-blue, and his ears swept up and back, nearly pointed. His short, spiky hair was white-blond. His shoulders were unbelievably broad, with a canvas bag slung over one and a quiver over the other, and he carried two archery bows.
“Mom,” Zach said, “this is Bo.”
He extended his enormous hand and it enveloped h
ers as she shook it. Her mind raced, flying in empty circles. “Who…what? Why is he here?”
“We don’t have time to explain much,” Zach said. “He’s from another planet and we have to send him back right now. If we don’t, it’ll be too late.”
“Huh? That’s crazy, Zach. Tell me the truth. What are you and Dad up to?”
“Tell her, Grandpa.”
“It’s true. This is why we’ve been working in the lab all this time. Bo was the result of one of Uncle Nicholas’s experiments that went awry, and we have to fix it right this minute. It’s our only chance.” He started toward the door that led to the basement, “But we don’t have time to waste. The power might go out any second and then Bo will be stuck here forever. Liz, really, we can’t waste any more time with this.” He glanced at Zach and Bo. “Come on.”
“But….” She wasn’t able to get a more satisfactory answer, because they were already partway down the stairs before she recovered her wits enough to join them, though she still struggled to make sense of what was happening. When they made it to the bottom of the steps, Bo stopped and reached into his canvas bag and pulled something out.
It was a dark wooden sculpture of two bears close together, about ten inches high and carved from a single block of wood. One figure was smaller, and was gazing up at the other, who looked back with what Liz could only describe as affection.
“It is a mother and her cub,” Bo said. “I thought it was appropriate for you.”
“He made the bears that I have,” Zach said. “The ones that were on my bedside table when we first got here, and the one I found in the woods.”
Liz accepted the gift and stared at it. “Um, you made this? For me? I don’t understand.”
“It’s a lot to take in, Liz,” her father said, “but really, we don’t have time to explain. We’ll tell you all about it later. Right now we gotta get goin’.”
Zach, his grandfather, his mother, and Bo entered the lab where the Ross kids waited. Beepee barked a greeting, and Jason slipped off the stool he’d been sitting on and threw both hands in the air. “Finally! What took you so long?”
“Your Uncle Marty showed up,” Grandpa said. “He acted like he wanted to make trouble, but Bo scared him off.”
“Bo threatened to fight him.” Zach gestured at the giant standing beside him. “Shoulda seen the look on your uncle’s face. He was scared as anything, and drove off as fast as he could.”
“The power almost went out while you were gone,” Justin said. “It got dark for a second or two and we got real worried.”
Grandpa glanced at the light fixtures overhead. “It seems to be holding out for now. Let’s get this machine cranked up and send Bo back home.”
Everyone turned when they heard a woman’s voice outside the door to the lab. “Hello?” It was Tina. “Where is everybody?” She walked in and said, “Oh, here you are. I was beginnin’ to—” The words stuck in her throat when she noticed Bo, and she gasped and stumbled back a few steps. “OhmyGod!”
“Mama,” Jason said, “this is our friend, Bo. He’s an alien.”
“What? No!”
“Really, he is,” Shelby said. “He’s the one who cured my asthma.”
Tina shivered hard with her eyes closed. When she opened them, she furrowed her brow and turned to Shelby. “Your asthma’s cured? Since when?”
“Since this summer. I almost died from an attack out in the woods one day, but Bo saved me and then came up with some medicine to help me. I don’t need my inhaler anymore.”
“I was wonderin’ why we haven’t had to refill your prescription.”
Grandpa flexed his leg. “He fixed my knee, too. That’s why I don’t limp.”
“Bo is from another world, Mama,” Justin said. “That’s why he can do such cool things.”
“A…another world?” she said weakly.
“Yes. We’re not making that up.”
Tina rounded on Zach’s mother, who held up both hands defensively. “I don’t know what’s going on. I just met him, too.” A curious look suddenly crossed her face and she eyed the two bows in the giant’s hand. “Wait…did you teach these kids about archery?”
“Yes,” he said in his deep voice. “They were excellent pupils. But that reminds me.” He separated the bows and offered the smaller one to Shelby. “Here. Take this.”
“Oh, Bo. I can’t. It’s so nice.”
“I made it for all of you. Since Zach has one now, you and your brothers should have this one. I have no need for it, anyway. I have mine.”
“Oh, gosh, thank you.” Shelby accepted it and held it with both hands. “We’ll make good use of it.”
Zach’s mother showed the sculpture of the bears to Tina. “He carved this for me.”
Tina reached out and gingerly touched it. “Geez, that’s beautiful.”
“He made the sculptures we have, too,” Jason said. “Shelby’s swan, and me and Justin’s eagles. And Zach’s bears.”
Bo shook his head sadly and said to Tina, “I am sorry that I do not have anything for you. I did not expect to see you.”
“Oh, that’s fine. I, uh, didn’t expect to see you, either.” A nervous smile played across her face.
The lights flickered, but only for an instant. Grandpa looked at the fixtures again and said, “We need to stop jabberin’ and get goin’. We probably don’t have much time.”
“What are you doin’?” Tina said.
“We’re sending Bo back to his home planet through this machine that my uncle built.” Grandpa leaned over and pressed the main switch on the control station and it hummed to life, and he quickly checked the settings on the row of knobs across the top.
The shimmering fields formed in the two cylinders, and Zach’s mother and Tina gaped at them. “Oh my God,” Zach’s mother said slowly. “So that’s what this thing does. Unbelievable.”
“I told you my uncle was way ahead of his time.” Grandpa nodded at Bo. “You about ready?”
“Yes.”
“Zach, if you want to get a picture of him before he goes, do it now, but make it quick.”
“I already took one the other day.”
“Okay. Bo, do you remember which cylinder you came through? I’m not sure if it makes a difference, but I’d rather not take a chance.”
Bo studied the tube-shaped structures and his face turned thoughtful. He pointed at the one on the left.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Cylinder one. That’s what Uncle Nicholas wrote in his lab log, too, so it must be right.” He nodded firmly, once. “I’m ready when you are. Uh…is there a way to check to see if it leads to the right place? We don’t want you walking out onto the surface of the moon or anything.”
Bo stepped to the tall cylinder, hesitated a moment, then extended his hand until it passed through the iridescent shimmer. The colors swirled around his wrist while he held it there, eyes closed, face calm. He withdrew his arm and said, “It is my home.” His lips spread into a brilliant smile. “I felt it!”
“Are you sure?” Grandpa said.
“Without a doubt.”
“Then I guess it’s time to say goodbye.”
Already? Zach couldn’t believe it. The thought raced around the edges of his brain but refused to sink in.
Bo turned and regarded Zach and the other kids, who stood together on one side of the machine. It was several seconds before he spoke. “Words cannot adequately convey the feelings that I have for all of you. I am honored to say that you are my friends.”
Zach felt a lump form in his throat, and he tried to answer, but couldn’t. Bo continued, “I will always cherish the memories of our time together.”
“Me, too,” Zach managed to croak, and Jason, Justin, and Shelby mumbled something unintelligible.
“I’ll keep the machine going as long as I can,” Grandpa said. “If you get to the other side and figure out it’s not the right place, you can step back into the transport field
and return here. But it would be nice if you could give us some kind of signal if it is your planet, without coming all the way back through. That’s too dangerous.”
“He could put his hand through it,” Jason said, “and give us a thumbs up.”
“No. If the machine shuts down, it could sever his arm. We just took that risk a minute ago. Let’s not push our luck.” Grandpa rubbed the end of his nose for a moment and then nodded. “You can toss something through the field, something that we know is ours.” He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his keys, a small cluster on a single ring. “This oughta work.” He handed them to the giant and said, “Take these and go, now.”
Bo briefly regarded the keys in his hand, then closed his fist around then and looked at Zach’s mother and Tina. “You have extraordinary children. The depths of their cleverness and loyalty are immeasurable. I hope that you are proud of them, because I certainly am.”
He glanced at Beepee and gave her a quick smile as if silently saying goodbye, then, without another word or gesture, he turned and stepped through the cylinder.
It took a few seconds to register what had happened. He’s gone. Zach blinked hard. He’s really gone. One moment he was there, and the next he wasn’t. There was only empty space where he once stood.
The colors of the field wavered like eddies on a psychedelic pond, and gradually calmed while Zach stared at them. No one spoke, all eyes fixed on the shimmer across the opening of the cylinder. Zach heard a pitiful sound escape from Shelby, and then he felt the sting of his own tears. He wanted to wipe them to clear his vision, but didn’t want his friends to know he was crying. When he heard Jason sniffle, followed immediately by Justin, Zach swept his sleeve across his face and looked back at the interstellar gateway.
“Come on, come on, come on,” he said under his breath. The lights flickered again and he redoubled his chant, trying to will the keys to return.
“Something’s wrong!” Justin said.
“Give it time,” Grandpa said.
“It should have happened by now.”
Grandpa didn’t answer. He focused on the cylinder. Everyone did, even Beepee.