by Gary Barnes
“There’s some really weird stuff here,” commented a corporal.
“Yeah, after seeing this stuff a visit to the zoo won’t ever be the same,” a sergeant added. “This isn’t anything like what I thought U.F.O.’s or space aliens were supposed to look like. But seein’ stuff like this answers the question about whether or not E.T. exists.”
“Yeah. How’d we shoot ‘em down?” asked the corporal.
“I heard they must’ve been cloaked. We were test-firing our orbiting LMDS laser. I guess they got a little curious, and a little too close. Just one of those cases of being in the wrong place at the wrong time,” explained the sergeant.
“Too bad for them, lucky for us. They must have been on some type of zoological collection mission or something. How else could you account for all these strange animals being on board?”
“That’s what I figured too, but Major Major isn’t saying a word. Hey, did you get to see any of the alien crew?”
“No, they were all taken to the morgue truck before I got here.”
“Well, that’s the strangest thing of all. The alien crew really weren’t that much different from us . . . a little different, yeah, but not much at all.”
“That’s weird . . . and they used a cloaking device you say?” asked the corporal as they passed Major Reid, who was inspecting items retrieved from the cave.
Immediately the Major spoke up.
“There was no cloaking device. It’s space junk. Nothing more! Is that clear?” asked Major Reid rhetorically.
“Yes sir,” replied the sergeant, as both em’s smartly saluted the Major. “We were just discussing a science fiction movie I saw.”
“A movie?” sneered Reid.
“Yes, sir, a movie.”
“Very well then. Carry on,” Reid said as he returned their salute.
Reid walked to the edge of the perimeter of light cast by the halogen lamps and silently gazed into the darkness as if deep in thought. Just as he turned to leave he heard an unmistakable crunch coming from the darkness - the sound of glass shattering when walked upon. He cocked his head, turning his gaze back to the darkness for a split second, then whirled around and sprinted toward the ladders at the opening in the cave roof, yelling for some of his men to come immediately.
In the darkness, fifty feet beyond the beam of the floodlights, was an extremely large broken terrarium. Its amphibian contents appeared to have been thrown through the thick plate glass, shattering the terrarium’s glass into hundreds of large jagged shards. Several of the large amphibians lay scattered on the cave floor near the river. They were huge, about the size of Shetland Ponies and looked like a cross between a frog and a salamander. Their bodies were longer and narrower than a frog's but rounder than a salamander’s. However, their overall appearance was much more prehistoric reptilian than modern amphibian. Their feet were partially webbed. There was a viciousness that seemed to exude from them though at a glance it was not immediately apparent as to why.
Three of the amphibians were dead. A fourth was lying on its side with its mouth open, revealing a double row of large sharp teeth which lined both of its massive jaws as they slowly opened and closed. One of alien’s legs twitched, striking the broken glass that littered the cave floor.
The crunching of the glass guided Reid and his flashlight-carrying men as they rushed upon the beast, surrounding the nearly dead amphibian. As the last of the men arrived, the alien convulsed, exhaled its final breath, and died.
One of the men poked it with the end of his rifle to verify that it was dead.
“Alright men, bag all this up and let’s get out of here,” ordered Major Reid.
Beyond the men, and further into the recesses of darkness, lay a fifth amphibian. It was by far the largest of the group, measuring over twelve feet in length. It slowly, and silently, dragged itself along the cave floor headed toward the subterranean river that flowed through the cave. Half of its right front foot, including its two outside toes, had been cut off by the terrarium’s broken glass. As the alien weakly dragged itself along the muddy cave floor it left a trail of blood and a slight depression in the clay. Reaching the underground river it slipped into the water and slowly swam away.
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CHAPTER NINE
Opal’s Café
Eminence City was originally founded as a frontier town nestled next to Round Spring on the banks of the Current River, deep in the heart of the Ozarks, just fifty miles north of the Arkansas state line. During the Civil War, in 1863, it was burned to the ground by Union soldiers, as was also the fate of many of its sister cities in the area. Rather than rebuild the town at its original location it was moved about twelve miles south because of a humorous incident involving lazy workmen. It seems that a supply wagon carrying materials for the town’s reconstruction broke down in the spot where the courthouse currently stands. Rather than fixing the wagon and proceeding on with the remaining twelve miles of their trip it was decided to unload the wagon and rebuild the town right there where the wagon had broken down. Today, Eminence stands on the south bank of the Jack’s Fork River as a testament to Civil War era work ethics.
Two narrow, hilly, winding, state roads, highways 19 and 106, intersected at the north end of town, a quarter-mile shy of the river. Highway 19, running north and south, formed the main road through town. There was only one city street running parallel to the highway on the east side of it, and only two parallel streets on the west side. For the most part, the town had been built along Highway 19, hugging the highway for about a mile.
Highway 106 ran east and west and paralleled the Jack’s Fork River, which flowed about four hundred yards to the north. Approaching Eminence along Highway 106 would give a false impression of the town’s size inasmuch as the highway just brushed the north end of town and barely embraced a few blocks.
Even though Eminence was small, consisting of only a few streets, the gentle rolling hills and narrow valleys upon which it rested ensured that virtually everyone lived on a hillside. Rush hour traffic in Eminence was non-existent. There were no stop lights and the only stop sign in town was where the two state roads crossed.
Since its Civil War reconstruction, the city had been built exclusively on the south side of the Jack’s Fork River because the lay of the land was slightly flatter. In the past few years, however, the growing tourist trade had seen the development of private rentable cabins and several motels dotting the north bank of the river, most of which were built within a stones throw of the water’s edge.
At the north edge of town the dilapidated Highway 19 bridge, with its severely chipped concrete and exposed steel reinforcement rods, spanned the Jack’s Fork River forty feet below. The bridge was supported by five massive but badly eroded concrete arches. Posted alongside the highway at the far side of the bridge was a roadside sign greeting newcomers to town:
WELCOME TO EMINENCE
POPULATION 523
Opal’s Café faced south and was located on the northwest corner of Main Street (Highway 19) and Missouri Avenue, just two blocks south of the junction of the two highways. The café had a large plate glass picture window in the front, flanked with blue and white gingham curtains on either side. The café sat directly across the street from the nearly 150 year old Shannon County Courthouse, Recorder’s Office, library, and County Sheriff’s Office complex.
Though the café had a menu from which diners could order a la carte, Opal could not remember the last time anyone had actually done so.
When Opal bought the café thirty-five years earlier, she did it not only to augment the family income, but because she truly enjoyed cooking. Her husband worked in the lumber industry and did not make much as a common laborer. After his death in a logging accident, the café became the family’s sole means of support. That’s when Opal changed the style to an all-you-can-eat buffet.
At first the menu change met with resistance from the townspeople - change of any kind was not generally accepted in such small tow
ns. But Opal’s country culinary arts quickly won the hearts of the townsfolk. It was a good change for Opal. It greatly simplified her daily cooking chores, reduced the food inventory, and tremendously increased her profits. That was a little over ten years ago and coincided with the time that the local tourist trade began to take off.
Inside the café, Clayton and Larry filled their trays at the buffet table. Tina Chitwood stood across the hot table from Larry and eyed him with interest. How could she be so fortunate, she thought, to have this gorgeous hunk of a man here in her hometown? Larry, more interested in the selection of foods before him than in observing the local citizenry, did not notice her.
Taking matters into her own hands, Tina walked around the hot table until she was standing directly behind Larry. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, she inched up as close as possible to Larry without actually touching him.
Having filled his tray, Larry turned around and unavoidably collided directly into Tina, whom he did not recognize, spilling her drink onto her food.
“Oh! Excuse me. How clumsy of me! I am so terribly sorry,” Larry said apologetically, not realizing that he had been set-up for this collision.
“Is that your standard pickup line?” Tina asked coyly with a faint flirtatious smile.
“What?” Then, gazing into her face for the first time, Larry suddenly recognized her. “Oh, you’re the girl from S.L.U.! I’m so sorry. You must think I do this all the time,” he stammered.
“Well, don’t you?” asked Tina teasingly.
“Uh . . . no . . . not usually, but it seems to be working. What’s your name?” he asked, realizing for the first time how stunningly beautiful she was.
“Tina . . . Tina Chitwood,” she replied with a mild hillbilly accent.
“Hi, Tina, I’m Larry Beringer – won’t you join me, uh . . .” Larry pointed to Clayton who was already seated at a table. “I mean us . . . for dinner?”
“I can see that you’ve used that line before,” Tina said laughingly. “Thanks, but I already have a date.” Larry looked surprised and a little confused, so Tina quickly added, “Three of them to be exact.” She pointed to another table where three boys about age twelve were seated with heaping plates – her nephew, Johnny; his best friend, Austin; and another of his friends, Frankie, who was very, very fat. “My nephew and his friends . . . Eminence is my hometown. Logging and tourism are our only industries and you don't look the logger type. So, you're here on vacation?” she asked.
“No, I’m a research assistant to Dr. Clayton.” Larry tilted his head in Clayton’s direction. “We’re camped down at Alley Spring doing frog research all summer.”
Tina wrinkled up her nose, “Oh! The Frog Guys. I’d heard you were around here. Well at least you picked a great place to camp . . . Well, enjoy, see ya ‘round.” Tina took her tray and started walking to the table where her nephew and his friends were seated. Larry watched her for a few seconds then hastily caught up with her.
“Wait! Uh . . . since I’m new to the area do you know any good, private, tour guides?”
“Possibly, what exactly did you have in mind?” she responded rather coyly.
“Well, tomorrow is Saturday so I get the day off. I’d love to see what there is around here.”
Tina assumed a very business-like demeanor and voice. “I’ll give it some thought. If I can find a guide on such short notice I’ll have them pick you up at 9:00 a.m.”
Tina turned and walked away. Larry’s eyes followed her until she was seated with her nephew and his friends. Then he noticed Opal, a woman in her mid-sixties and proprietor of the restaurant. She was eyeing him suspiciously. Realizing that he was just standing there, he self-consciously retreated to his own table to join Clayton who was quite absorbed in his own thoughts and was only partially aware of the girl’s presence.
Clayton had been doodling on a legal pad while reviewing some notes. As Larry took his seat, Clayton spoke to him very off-handedly, “A friend of yours?”
“No . . . but I wish she were,” Larry responded longingly.
Clayton was quite preoccupied and rather absent-mindedly responded, “Well, it’s a long summer.” He took a bite of his food then looked at his notes, tapped his pencil on the table, and spoke as if to himself, lost deep in thought. “. . . but it just doesn’t add up.”
Larry had taken a bite of his dinner but was chewing very slowly while he stared at Tina’s table. Startled by Clayton’s comment he was brought back to reality.
“Uh . . . what doesn’t?”
“That meteorite . . . it wasn’t of course!” said Clayton still very preoccupied. In fact he was so lost in thought that he did not realize that Larry wasn’t paying much attention to him.
Larry continued to stare at Tina, who was profiled a few tables away, allowing him to gaze at her without being conspicuous. After a few seconds he replied, feigning interest. “Uh . . . It wasn’t?”
“Of course not. The military doesn’t investigate meteorite crashes. Scientists certainly, but not military. And the way it wobbled as it streaked across the sky, crippled sort of . . . almost like it was some sort of craft in distress or something . . . And another thing!” Exclaimed Clayton.
“What?” Larry replied, mildly irritated.
“Those trucks . . . they were carrying some type of animal life, but none that I could identify from the brief glimpse I got. And they were sure guarding it very protectively.”
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CHAPTER TEN
Alley Spring
The Chitwood home was located on Missouri Avenue, two blocks west of Opal’s Café, not quite halfway up the hill. The seventy-five year old wood slat siding could use a coat of paint, though its structure was solid and in relatively good condition. A wrap-around porch extended across the front of the home and down the right side. The burnt orange asphalt roll roof could use some minor repair, but it was water-tight.
A wide and well-manicured yard extended across the front of the home and then wrapped around both sides, merging into a spacious back yard with an expansive vegetable garden at the back of the lot. The one acre lot required a lot of grass cutting and weed pulling, but that was the stuff that gave young energetic boys something to do, and to complain about, during the long hot summer months.
Though the home could use some cosmetic repairs it was not run down; rather it reflected the dignity of character of a home well used in raising a large family in love and happiness on a tight budget. A little paint here, a little carpet there, and the home would be almost as good as new. It actually had a somewhat stately appearance about it.
The sun shone brightly the next morning as Tina completed her tour guide preparations. Meeting Larry in her mother’s restaurant the previous evening was quite a surprise for Tina. She had hoped that their paths would cross again when school resumed in the fall, but learning that he would be working in her hometown all summer made her wish that summer would last a little longer.
Tina was just leaving through the front screen door that exited onto the wrap-around porch of her home. Her mother, Opal, with great concern for her daughter, followed her but paused at the door, holding the screen ajar with her arm.
“Now don't go gallivantin' all over the countryside with this city slicker. Ya can't trust ‘um. More’un one country gal's had her heart broke by ‘um,” warned Opal.
“Momma, I'm not a girl anymore. I'm a grown-up woman,” Tina protested.
“I know ya are child, that's what worries me so,” Opal muttered almost to herself as she glanced away with a momentary far-away gaze, as if painfully remembering long ago events. Then, shaking her head, she forced a smile and tried to be cheerful as she spoke again, “Oh, don’t mind me. You go on and have a good time.”
Tina threw her backpack over her shoulder and bounded off the front porch headed for her canary yellow Jeep Wrangler parked in front of the home. Opal remained at the screen door peering worriedly after her.
*
The mornin
g mist was just beginning to rise as the first rays of sunlight peeked over the mountain ridge and began filtering down through the trees at Clayton’s Jack’s Fork River Campsite. It wouldn’t take long for the morning dew to burn off.
Tina’s Jeep pulled to a stop as she parked in a stall in the campground’s common parking area. The top of the Jeep was down, exposing its black padded roll bars. Tina stepped out of the Jeep and sauntered over to Clayton’s campsite.
Clayton and Larry were seated at a camp table with their backs toward the common parking area, reviewing various charts and data tables. They were deeply engrossed in discussing the statistical findings of their recent field work and did not hear Tina approaching. When just a few feet away, Tina changed her pace, straightened her back and assumed a very business-like demeanor.
“Good morning. Tina’s Ozark Tour Guide Service . . . at your service,” she jovially announced.
“Well!” said Larry looking up from his work and turning to see her, a little surprised. “And a very good morning to you. I was hoping you’d show up.”
Tina continued rather formally and somewhat aloof, “Unfortunately, on such short notice I couldn’t get any of the regular guides, they were all booked, sooo . . .” She tilted her head to the side and flashed Larry a wide flirtatious smile while shrugging her shoulders. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”
“Then this must be my lucky day,” replied Larry.” He turned to Clayton, who was trying to conceal a smirk, and said with a broad smile and a wink, “Don’t wait up. I have a feeling I won’t be back till late.”
“Oh, but I will. We have work to do after dark,” Clayton reminded him. “Be back by dusk.”
*
Fifteen minutes later Tina and Larry had joined a group of ten tourists standing on the back porch of the red Mill House at the basin of Alley Spring. The group was clustered around a lady Park Ranger who was giving a lecture. The porch extended out over a portion of the mill pond, allowing tourists to look down at the spillway gates and to see the water turbine that powered the mill in years past.