“What kind of audio is it?”
“I don’t know. A jingle or something.”
Mother held out her hand for the flash drive. “Maybe we should have a quick listen first.”
That was an astonishingly bad idea.
“There’s no time,” I said.
“Gideon,” Mother said, waggling a finger. “Is this another one of your games?”
I was so close.
I had driven to town.
There was no way I was giving up.
As I tried to quickly formulate a plan, Oswald’s voice reverberated through the crowd. “And now, the moment has arrived! Behold, the Elixir ETernia!”
* * *
Subject #1: Ishmael Hofstadt: I was kinda nervous, I guess. ’Cause the boiler room had some serious-looking equipment, and what if the light didn’t come on or something? Gideon would totally blame me. But I listened carefully, and when Oz said his line, I flipped the switch. I only sort of noticed the way the furnace was all steamy—I thought it was supposed to be like that. And I didn’t pay attention to the dial on it, the one that had an arrow pointing to red. I figured, if it was important, Gideon would’ve mentioned it.
* * *
The night turned pink.
The glow of the lava lamp lit the square, lit Main Street. It felt bright enough to light up all of Lansburg.
The crowd gasped in amazement. No one moved or spoke. They stared at J. Quincy Oswald and the lava lamp as if witnessing a miracle.
Despite needing to start the recording, I couldn’t help but look at Oswald as well. He was poised at the rail of the observation deck, holding up a bottle of Elixir ETernia. I couldn’t tell what color the bottle was. Everything was pink.
I knew pictures were being taken. Video was being recorded. Oswald looked exactly like the god he wanted to be.
Except with his free hand, he reached up and wiped his brow. And I realized that even from where I stood on the ground, it was getting hot.
Too hot, a little voice whispered.
Later, everyone talked about what it was like to see the lava lamp lit up. Even the people who knew it was going to happen, like Cass, and Owen—who’d made his way to the square after the theater emptied—were awed. Even Ishmael was awed, when he stepped out of the boiler room and saw his handiwork. Even Father, who hated Oswald nearly as much as I did. No one could look away.
But I had to.
“Laser, put this in,” I thrust the flash drive in her direction, hoping Mother was distracted.
Laser mumbled in response but didn’t turn from the lamp.
The crowd began to come back to its senses. People murmured and shifted. Any moment, Oswald would start speaking again and the trance would be broken. And with it, my opportunity would have passed.
I was about to reach past Laser to plug in the flash drive myself, when something very unexpected happened.
The lava lamp exploded.
* * *
Subject #18, Thomas Ward (fire inspector): In regular-sized lava lamps, convection currents keep the hot liquid circulating. That wasn’t possible in Lansburg’s scaled-up version. To keep temperatures steady, a pump had been implemented to push hot water from the bottom to the top of the lamp. It was tied to the lights. Turn on the lights, turn on the pump. That should’ve happened simultaneously to the boiler being activated. Instead, the boiler was switched on in advance, heating the liquid in the bottom of the lamp for an extended period of time. Far as we can tell, when the light was finally turned on, that pump shot a geyser of near-boiling water straight to the top of the lava lamp. The glass up there was cold, and the sudden heat combined with the force of the geyser cracked it in an instant. You ask me, that lava lamp was a problem just waiting to happen.
* * *
The lava lamp exploded up not out, and later experts would say that was the only reason there weren’t casualties.
With a loud pop, the top of the lamp blasted into the night sky, and a geyser of liquid erupted from the top. I froze in horror. Around me, people began to scream, those closest to the lamp ducking and covering their heads.
It was almost beautiful, the way natural disasters can sometimes be magnificent when you distance them from the destruction they cause.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a panicked Oswald running for the observation deck stairs.
I waited for the “lava” to hit the crowd, worried about burns. All that hot water and paraffin and who knew what else. I wasn’t the only one thinking along those lines, because the crowd continued to cry out in fear and began to surge.
But as I looked up at the sky, where lava still spurted into the air, I noticed something incredible. Drops of hot water weren’t raining on the crowd. Instead, it appeared the lava was turning into…snow?
Of course. Paraffin cooled rapidly. It couldn’t survive as a liquid in the autumn air.
I laughed out loud, my face tilted up at the stars and the falling snow-lava, while chaos ensued around me.
Then I snapped back to reality. I looked at Mother. She was staring at the sky, still distracted. I knew I’d never have the opportunity again. I pushed Laser aside, plugged my flash drive in, and opened the audio file.
A moment later, Oswald’s voice boomed from the speakers.
Aliens never visited me. The Elixir ETernia is fake.
* * *
Subject #5, Owen Campbell: A hush fell over the crowd. By then everyone realized the water in the lava lamp wasn’t going to burn. People quieted down and listened to Oswald saying he was a fraud. And I couldn’t help thinking, “Damn, my boyfriend did this. He made a crowd of thousands of people pay attention.”
* * *
It was as if the entire town had been under the spell of a particularly adept Pied Piper and was finally waking up.
With waxy paraffin beneath their feet and a destroyed town landmark rising above them, the crowd shuffled and looked around with shell-shocked expressions.
I glanced at Mother and saw her wipe away a tear.
It struck me then, just how many people had put faith in Oswald. I’d never stopped to consider what those people would feel once he was exposed. How lost and confused they’d be.
Oswald himself stood near the stairs to the observation deck, frozen in place as his own voice played through the speakers, his eyes wide with horror. He looked around frantically, as if there might still be an escape route.
Then the crowd near him parted, letting someone through.
My sister.
Leading a pack of girls.
Serenely, they surrounded Oswald, enveloping him in their circle. Girls on either side of him reached out to take his hands. Solemnly, Maggie approached Oswald and began to speak. I was too far to hear what she said, but I imagined she was preaching to him, the man who’d always been the preacher. Oh, how things had changed.
* * *
Subject #8, Special Agent Mike Ruiz: Kaufman ran the show until that point. She was preparing to arrest Oswald, figuring we could bring him in on destruction of property. But then I saw him surrounded by those teenaged girls—holding hands with some of them… We’d heard rumors about him having inappropriate relationships with minors, and I couldn’t stand back anymore. I wanted to arrest the bastard myself.
* * *
The crowd behind me buzzed.
I glanced around and saw several members of the Lansburg Police Department making a beeline in my direction.
My heart stopped.
But they bypassed me and infiltrated Maggie and Oswald’s weird prayer circle. Maggie’s friends scattered. Oswald spun around, looking more desperate and afraid by the second.
Kaufman was on a walkie-talkie giving orders and directing her officers, but it was Agent Ruiz who stepped forward to put cuffs on Oswald’s wrists.
His arms pulled tight behind him, hi
s face a mask of confusion at his own fall from grace, Oswald scanned the crowd one more time. His eyes locked on me. I couldn’t hear him, but I saw his lips move. “You,” he said. He struggled against his restraints, but Agent Ruiz pulled him back.
I looked away.
It was my moment. I’d won. Even if it was just for one night, I was the god and Oswald was the starfish. But for some reason, I didn’t feel accomplished. I felt more like Oppenheimer (Robert Oppenheimer (1904–1967): father of the atomic bomb), who, upon seeing his work come to fruition, was said to have quoted this line from the Bhagavad Gita: “Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.”
Ishmael limped through the thinning crowd and came to stand by me.
“That didn’t go according to plan,” he said.
“That’s one way to put it.”
“I swear, dude, I did exactly what you said. I didn’t mean for anything to blow up.”
“I know,” I said.
My gaze swept the chaotic scene one more time. I’d lost sight of Mother and Maggie. I knew Father must be somewhere in the crowd too. I wanted to find my family and go home.
I told Ishmael as much, and he nodded in agreement. He leaned on me, keeping his bad ankle off the ground, and I supported his weight the best I could. Together we moved through the aftermath of what was both our greatest success and greatest failure.
* * *
Subject #12, David O’Grady: The cops had that health bozo in cuffs, thank Jesus, and I was ready to be on my way, but I heard another shout. I thought, What now? I looked over and saw her: my Prudence, running through the crowd, bucking like she had Satan on her heels. People leapt out of her way, not even trying to stop her. And I knew I’d have to go handle it myself. Just like I had to with everything.
Newspaper Article
The following article was reprinted with permission of the Lansburg Daily Press.
POPULAR HEALTH MLM ROCKED BY SCANDAL
By K. T. Malone
November 6
LANSBURG, PA—Details continue to emerge regarding John Oswald, commonly referred to as J. Quincy Oswald or “Oz.”
The founder and CEO of the multi-level marketing company myTality™, was arrested Saturday night following his involvement in the explosion of Lansburg’s lava lamp.
Daily Press columnist and owner of the blog lightbringernews.com, Adam Frykowski, has taken it upon himself to unearth information about Oswald’s past.
“For one, he claims to be from Texas,” Frykowski said, “but records cite him being born and raised in California. His birth certificate shows that he’s 37 years old, despite his claims to be over a decade older. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”
Lansburg, normally an idyllic place to call home, is still reeling from the loss of the town’s most prominent landmark and the pandemonium that followed. Residents wait anxiously to discover what role Oswald played in the event.
Event: Family Meeting
Date: Nov. 7 (Tues.)
For three days, Father didn’t speak to me or my siblings. Every time he looked at us, he shook his head with a mixture of fury and disbelief.
For three days, Mother moped around the house, occasionally taking a myTality™ Shake It Up from the fridge, then putting it back with a look of despair.
For three days, we lived in limbo.
From snippets I saw online, I knew rumors were circulating about my and Ishmael’s involvement in the alien fiasco. It was a failing on my part—I was so fixated on taking down Oswald I overlooked that my own voice was on the recording. People were putting the pieces together.
I was overcome with dread. I could barely bring myself to eat. I wished someone would hurry up and punish me for the hoax. I deserved it, I knew I deserved it, and waiting only made my guilt and anxiety and fear worse.
It was a relief when Mother finally called a family meeting.
“I don’t like the atmosphere in this house,” she said once we were all seated in the living room.
Father snorted. “I haven’t liked it for weeks.”
Mother ignored him and went on: “I think we can agree that many mistakes have been made around here. By all of us.”
Only Father raised his voice in protest, but Mother silenced him with a sharp look. “Vic, your mistake was quitting the family because you didn’t approve of our choices. No one in this house gets to abandon ship.”
Father sat back, chastised.
“My mistake,” Mother went on, “was ignoring the unsavory aspects of myTality and going along with outright lies, because I was so focused on building my business. I put success before being a good person.”
“You never believed Oz, did you?” I asked.
“No, honey. I didn’t.”
I nodded. I had assumed as much and was glad she admitted it.
Mother turned to Maggie next. “I don’t think I need to tell you that it was wildly inappropriate for you to try forming a cult.”
Maggie smiled sweetly, but I saw no remorse in her eyes. “Sorry, Mom.”
“As for you two,” Mother said, to Ishmael and me. “I don’t know where to begin. The amount of destruction you caused is astounding, and there will be repercussions.”
I leaned forward. “What exactly will those repercussions be?”
“That’s something your dad and I still need to discuss.”
“I’m probably not going on the senior trip, am I?” Ishmael asked glumly.
“No, Ishmael,” Mother replied, “I think it’s safe to say you’re not.”
She paused for a long moment and let her words sink in before continuing.
“Now, as I said, mistakes were made, but we’re still a family and we’ll support one another while we figure out what happens next. Obviously, I won’t sell myTality products anymore, and I’ll be home with all of you until I figure out what my next career move is.”
“Speaking of careers,” Father broke in, “I’ve enjoyed my time out of the house these past few weeks. The kids don’t need me full-time anymore. I think I’d like to pick up some more training sessions.”
Mother smiled and squeezed his hand. “That sounds lovely, Vic.”
I couldn’t imagine a life with Father working full-time. I was happy for him, though. Or, at least, I would be once I learned to cook for myself.
“Another matter we need to discuss is that we’ll be adding an animal to the farm.”
Everyone stared at Mother, baffled.
“I don’t know what you did to David O’Grady’s cow,” she went on, “but he claims she’s turned ‘feral’ and he can’t have her behavior influencing the rest of his herd.”
“Wait,” Ishmael said, bolting upright. “You mean we get to keep Muffin?”
“Not only do you get to keep her, Ishmael, you and your brother get to care for her. Now I don’t have a clue what that entails, but Gideon, I’m sure you can put your research skills to good use. Ishmael, you’ll probably want to get started by building a pen.”
Clearly Mother meant it as a punishment, but Ishmael’s eyes glowed with joy. At least one of us was happy.
“In addition, Mr. O’Grady has agreed not to press charges for any of your several transgressions against him. In return, the two of you will be working on his farm for the next several seasons.”
I knew I was getting off light, so I tried my best to not show horror at the prospect of being a farmhand. From Maggie’s giggle, I was only 17 percent sure I succeeded.
“Is there more?” I asked with dread.
Mother’s face became solemn. “Yes. The police need to speak with you.”
Event: Yet Another Interrogation
Date: Nov. 8 (Wed.)
I’d had several talks with Chief Kaufman in recent weeks, but she always came to the farm. The fact that she asked my parents to bring Ishmael an
d me to the police station distressed me.
Before we left the house, Ishmael pulled me aside.
“Hey, dude, I think you should let me take one for the team, okay?”
I frowned. “Pardon?”
“You have this bright future ahead of you, you know? Like, you can’t have a record. And we both know you’re in this situation because of me.”
“Are you offering to take the blame for everything?”
“Well, yeah,” Ishmael said with a shrug.
I stared at my brother for a long time. “You may have started it, but I was there every step of the way. We were always in this together. And we will be until the end.”
Ishmael began to protest, but I firmly told him the discussion was over.
At the station we were led to Kaufman’s office. Agent Ruiz was already there, sitting in one of the two chairs across from Kaufman’s desk. When we entered the room, he stood and motioned for Ishmael and me to sit. He leaned causally against the wall and watched us.
“I’ll find seats for you,” Kaufman told Mother and Father, who hovered behind us.
“We’re okay,” Father replied. I could hear the apprehension in his voice. He wanted to get the meeting over with as much as I did.
Kaufman took a breath and folded her hands in front of her. She looked back and forth between my brother and me. “You two have had an interesting few months.”
Ishmael smiled sheepishly, as if this was fallout from one of his usual pranks and not much, much more serious.
“Why don’t you tell us everything from the beginning,” Kaufman suggested. “The truth this time.”
Behind me, Father cleared his throat. “Are the boys going to need a lawyer, Lisa?”
“That depends,” Kaufman replied.
“On?”
“On how willing they are to cooperate.”
My eyes flickered to Agent Ruiz. I wondered why he was still in Lansburg, since the aliens had turned out to be a hoax.
As if reading my mind, Ruiz spoke: “The FBI’s been watching J. Quincy Oswald for some time. If your sons tell us everything they know about him, up until their involvement with the explosion, the Lansburg Police Department will reduce the charges against them.”
It Came from the Sky Page 30