It Came from the Sky

by Chelsea Sedoti

“The time for what?”

  “The Visitors have revealed your role.”

  Oh. That.

  He really still thought I’d help him?

  I admit, when I first encountered Oswald, I bore him a small, grudging amount of respect. He was clearly skilled, even if I found his use of those skills contemptible. But he’d shattered that respect when I found Arden in his RV. I couldn’t look at him with anything but disgust.

  “Stop,” I said bluntly.

  I caught him off guard. His laid-back attitude faltered. “Pardon?”

  “Stop with the alien talk. We both know it’s bullshit.”

  “Now, Gideon, if you look into your heart I think you’ll find—”

  “I’m serious, Oswald.”

  The door to the lab was still ajar and Kepler slipped inside, meowing. I waited for him to hiss at Oswald and bolt, but instead he slowly approached.

  “Hey there, little guy,” Oswald said. He lowered a hand to the floor. Kepler cautiously sniffed it. And then, to my immense surprise, he allowed Oswald to scratch his head.

  The cat who hated everyone and everything allowed my nemesis to pet him.

  It was too much.

  “You need to leave now.”

  Oswald straightened, suddenly all business. “I’m launching the Elixir ETernia a week from today.”

  “So?”

  “I plan to unveil it at a gathering in the town square,” he plowed ahead. “Local businesses are donating time and services. We’ll have food, music, lights, a sound system—I won’t mess with that bullhorn again. It’ll be the biggest event this town has seen in years.”

  I shrugged to let him know how unimpressed I was with his planned festivities. “Okay. And?”

  Oswald leaned forward and gazed intently at me. “And at the moment the Elixir ETernia is presented to the world, at the exact moment of the unveiling, I want the lava lamp to turn on.”

  There have been many things said about J. Quincy Oswald. Bad things and good things. True things and false. But having known him personally for a brief time, I will confirm this: for all his faults, Oswald also had a little bit of genius.

  The lighting of the lava lamp, dormant for decades, would be dramatic and memorable. Cass would swoon over the theatrics of it. I could imagine Oswald with the night sky behind him, the sky that held so much mystery and promise, holding up the elixir, backlit by the unearthly pink glow of the lamp. Every newspaper in the country would have that photo on the front page.

  No one would mistake Oswald for a starfish.

  I tried to keep my expression neutral. The last thing I wanted was for him to know I was impressed. “This has nothing to do with me.”

  “No town official will turn that light on,” Oswald said.

  “With good reason. Who knows if it even can be turned on anymore?”

  “The equipment is still in the room beneath the lamp. It’s dusty, but looks operational.”

  I was galled. He’d already broken into the boiler room to investigate. This wasn’t just a whim.

  “So turn it on yourself,” I said.

  Oswald smiled with faux modesty. “Unfortunately, my knowledge of machinery is limited. A few of my distributors took a stab at it, but they couldn’t make heads or tails of the heating element.”

  I finally saw what he was getting at.

  “But you could,” Oswald went on. “I know you could turn that light on.”

  Well.

  Maybe.

  I wasn’t exactly a mechanical expert.

  But I wouldn’t mind getting in there and checking out the equipment. I knew how regular lava lamps functioned, and I’d be curious to see what modifications were made when it was scaled up.

  Except, wait, no.

  I wasn’t on Oswald’s side.

  “What makes you think I could do it? You don’t know anything about me.”

  Oswald rolled the chair closer and looked into my eyes like he was going to hypnotize me. “I know you caused the explosion that started all this. I know you somehow scrambled radio signals. I know you made crop circles. Are you telling me you can’t figure out how to turn a lava lamp on?”

  I was floored. He outed me for practically everything that had happened over the past months. Beneath his swagger, he was observant.

  “If you’re saying I faked events,” I began slowly, “you’re also admitting you faked your own.”

  Oswald smiled but didn’t speak. We stared at each other for a long moment. Eventually he said, “So here we are. What do you want to do?”

  There was only one thing I wanted since he’d arrived in Lansburg.

  “Admit aliens never visited you,” I said.

  I was 90 percent sure he’d never do it, that he’d keep his secrets forever. But with his usual confidence, Oswald said, “Aliens never visited me.”

  “Admit the Elixir ETernia is fake.”

  “The Elixir ETernia is fake.”

  “And admit you’re only in it for the money.”

  Oswald grinned. “Can’t do that one.”

  I began to protest, but he held up a hand to quiet me.

  “I like the money. But that’s not why I do it.”

  “Why then?”

  He thought for a long moment. “Because I only feel alive when people are watching me.”

  “So you do it for the glory,” I said softly.

  “For the glory,” he repeated. “Not a bad way to put it.”

  It turned out J. Quincy Oswald and I had something in common after all.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll look at the lava lamp.”

  But I wouldn’t do it for Oswald. I’d do it because I wanted to know if the lamp could be turned on, and if I could be the one to do it. I’d do it for the glory.

  And yeah.

  Maybe I had another motive too.

  Text Conversation

  Participants: Gideon Hofstadt, Ishmael Hofstadt

  IH: so wait, i dont get it. we ARE gunna help Oz?

  GH: Yes.

  IH: but do you still hate him

  GH: Yes.

  IH: and youre still mad about how he scams people?

  GH: Yes.

  IH: then why turn the lava lamp on?

  GH: Come up to my room when you get home tonight.

  IH: cant you give me a hint at least!

  GH: Ishmael, don’t you think it’s time someone took J. Quincy Oswald down?

  IH: is this like a new prank?

  GH: It’s the ultimate prank.

  IH: coming home right now

  Calendar of Events

  Taken from the “In Your Community” page from the November 2 issue of the Lansburg Daily Press.

  UPCOMING EVENTS

  SATURDAY, 7:00 P.M.

  J. Quincy Oswald invites all Lansburg residents and visitors to the launch of his new product, the Elixir ETernia. The event will be held in the town square at 7:00 and include music and vendors. Food will be available for purchase from local restaurants.

  SUNDAY, 10:00 A.M.

  The Knights of Columbus will host a pancake breakfast at St. Francis de Sales Church following 9:00 mass. Proceeds will be donated to the Find Prudence Fund, a community effort to locate David O’Grady’s award-winning cow. More information can be found at the parish office.

  SUNDAY, 6:30 P.M.

  The Keep Lansburg Lovely committee is meeting at 6:30 p.m. at Irving Community Center to discuss recent litter problems around the town square. A vote will be held at 7:30 p.m. to determine if new trash cans should be purchased. Refreshments will be provided.

  Interview

  Subject #2, Magdalene (Maggie) Hofstadt: It’s true that cult leaders need to be charismatic. But more important, the followers need to think the leader has inside information. It
doesn’t need to be an all-knowing, God-spoke-to-me sort of thing—though a lot of times, it is. It can be as simple as the cult leader living in the location where certain important events took place. Like an explosion that kicked off a string of UFO sightings.

  The Next Six Days

  You might be wondering why I so readily agreed to help J. Quincy Oswald, the man whom I considered my nemesis.

  Because I did plan to help. We should be very clear on that. I intended to do exactly what he asked. I’d figure out how to turn the lava lamp on, and I’d give him his moment of glory and fame.

  And then I’d expose him for the fraud he was.

  Oswald wanted a sound system for the Elixir ETernia launch—so much of his sales pitch was body language, and relying on the bullhorn instead of a microphone must have severely limited his wild gesturing. I would use the sound system for my own purpose. I’d use it to play the recording I made with my phone when Oswald came to my lab.

  On Saturday night, Oswald would unveil his product. And immediately afterward, as he basked in the glow of the lava lamp and his followers cheered, they’d hear a recording of him admitting the product was fake. That aliens never visited him. That it was all a scam.

  As soon as Oswald left my lab that night, I began making a list of everything I needed to do, everything that would make my plan work perfectly.

  Gideon’s Notes from Oct. 29 to Nov. 3

  Sunday

  Had in-depth discussion with Ishmael.

  Ish: You know, dude, this means we’ll be outed too.

  Me: Then you can finally take credit for the hoax.

  Ish: Good point.

  Ishmael is on board. His task: get as many people as possible to the town square on Saturday. Not just Seekers and myTality™ acolytes, everyone. The entire high school, Father and his workout buddies, longtime Lansburg residents who attend Bingo Extravaganzas. EVERYONE.

  Ish: I got this.

  My task: research lava lamps and exactly how they work.

  It turns out, the internet has a very passionate lava lamp community. I’m not an expert, but I got the info I needed. More convinced than ever I can do this.

  Monday

  Arden returned to school. Lots of whispers as she passed in the hall, but she says no one directly harassed her.

  Cass: If anyone does bug you, tell me right away.

  Me: Apparently Cass is exploring a new career as a bodyguard.

  Cass: You don’t think the job would suit me?

  Me: Maybe not in that outfit.

  Outfit: gauzy green top, glitter makeup, seashell hair clips.

  Me: What is this supposed to be anyway?

  Cass: Mermaid chic, obviously.

  Arden: I’m so glad to be back here with you guys. I thought my mom was going to keep me home forever.

  Don’t want to keep anything from Arden anymore, so told her about my plans for Oswald. Long, awkward silence.

  Me: If you don’t want me to go through with it, just say the word.

  Arden: You’d change your plans for me?

  Me: Yes.

  It’s true. I wouldn’t like it, but I’d do it.

  Arden: He really admitted he lied about the aliens?

  Me: You can listen to the recording.

  Arden: No. I don’t want to hear it.

  Cass: You okay?

  Arden: I know what he did was wrong. And I understand that people deserve to know the truth. But I don’t want to be there when it happens, okay?

  Me: Of course.

  Hoping this means Arden is coming around, that soon she’ll be willing to talk to Chief Kaufman about her experience with Oswald.

  Tuesday

  After school: Oswald let me into the boiler room underneath the lava lamp. Only took 30 min. to get basic idea of how the heating element functions. No one from Oswald’s camp has the mechanical aptitude to figure it out for themselves???

  In regular lava lamps: “lava” is heated by a lightbulb.

  In our giant version: light and heating element are separate.

  Makes sense. No lightbulb could heat such a huge amount of liquid.

  Boiler is simple. Has a switch to turn it on and window displaying temperature—with dial showing if furnace is going “in the red” so emergency shut-off can be engaged.

  Setup means I can start heating the lamp on Sat. afternoon, well before unveiling. If calculations are correct, might be able to get lava moving at the same time the lamp lights up—even possible turning on the light will give last push of heat needed. Still, warned Oswald the two won’t coincide exactly.

  Me: The lamp will light up right away, but it’ll take a while before the paraffin heats up enough to start swirling.

  Oswald: But the light will be pink, right?

  Me: Yes.

  He seemed satisfied.

  Spent approx. 2.5 hrs. tinkering/making list of items needed.

  A bit paranoid I can’t do a test run. Even in the dead of night, it would be impossible to turn on the lamp, see if I got it running properly. People would notice. Sat. night will have to be first time.

  Made plans to return Thursday, after Oswald picks up supplies. Made conversation as he locked the boiler room behind us.

  Me: Is everything else in place for Saturday?

  Oswald: Are you worried?

  Me: It’s just, if you’re looking for help with the sound system, I know someone. They do AV work for a band. They probably have access to equipment.

  Oswald was interested.

  Wrote down info, hoping he wouldn’t be put off that my contact went by “Laser.”

  Wednesday

  In lab, hunched over computer, trying to get work done. Ishmael burst in.

  Ish: Did you see last week’s episode of Pitch, Please?

  Me: I don’t know. Maybe?

  Ish: The contestants wanted to make a show about weird dance competitions, like starting the world’s biggest conga line, right?

  Me: And this is your life goal if becoming a magician doesn’t work out?

  Ish: No, dude. I was thinking about the conga line, and it made me think about my friend Easton. You know Easton, right?

  Me: What about him?

  Ish: Once, he was in the mall, and saw this line forming, okay? And he just got into it. Even though he didn’t know what it was for.

  Me: That seems like an immense waste of time.

  Ish: Right. Especially ’cause it turned out to be a line for little kids to meet Spider-Man, which Easton totally wasn’t into.

  Me: What are you getting at?

  Ish: It’s like…when people see a line, part of them wants to know what it’s for so much, they’ll get into it just to see. So that conga line thing is brilliant.

  Me: Good for them. Maybe they’ll win the reality show.

  Ish: Dude. You know what else it reminded me of? That scene in Cass’s play. The one where the Piper guy leads all the kids out of town.

  I stopped working and gave Ishmael my full attention.

  Ish: Wouldn’t it be cool if the Piper led the whole town to the lava lamp?

  Thursday

  Not worried I might get into trouble. All that matters is defeating Oswald. Proving myself. So close to making that happen.

  Tying up loose ends now. Everyone knows their roles. Plans are down to the minute. Have listened to Oswald’s audio recording multiple times to ensure it’s clear. Luckily, Oswald has great diction. Transferred the file onto two flash drives to be safe.

  After work: went to lava lamp with Oswald to make final preparations.

  Me: Are you nervous?

  Oswald: About what?

  Me: That the unveiling might not go according to plan.

  Oswald: Things always go according to plan for me, Gideon.

&n
bsp; That’s what he thinks.

  Can’t stop imagining the look on Oswald’s face when the recording starts, when he knows he’s been bested.

  For the first time in his life, he’ll realize he isn’t a god after all.

  Friday

  Felt I deserved a break. Especially after the blow of getting English paper back with C– written on it. Apparently, Mr. Fiore did not agree “The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner” was meant to be literal, nor did he appreciate my objections: Isn’t poetry meant to be interpreted by the reader?

  To get mind off poetry/tomorrow’s event, took Arden to see Hamelin! Afterward, went to dinner with Cass, Owen, and some other theater people. Owen and I held hands underneath the table.

  Sofia Russo: You guys are so cute together.

  Felt that the comment infringed on my privacy. But also, she’s right.

  Saturday

  All systems are go.

  Event: The Incident

  Date: Nov. 4 (Sat.)

  The sun was still in the sky when Ishmael and I set out for the town square, but it would be dark soon enough. Dark enough for the lava lamp to have maximum impact. Dark enough that none of Oswald’s people would notice when I slipped over to the sound system—conveniently monitored by Laser—to add my own touch to the evening’s festivities.

  Ishmael had taken longer than usual to get ready. “What’s your problem?” I asked, standing in the doorway of his room while he traded one Hawaiian shirt for another.

  “I just want everything to be perfect,” he replied. “This is a big night. There are a lot of moving pieces, dude.”

  I watched my brother for a long moment. “Ishmael, is it possible I’ve rubbed off on you a little bit over the past few weeks?”

  “With the way you’re scheming, I think maybe it’s the other way around.”

  My brother and I grinned at each other. He clapped me on the back as we made our way up the basement stairs.

  “Aren’t you nervous?” Ishmael asked, as we climbed into the Jeep.

  I thought about it for a moment. The usual tension I felt during big moments—certainly during big experiments—wasn’t present. And, in a way, wasn’t this my biggest experiment of all?