by Elise Sax
“What happened?” I asked Silas when Boone left the room.
“I don’t know,” he gasped and sputtered. “I woke up with the pillow on my face. I struggled against it, but it was heavy.”
I heard Boone returning down the hallway with the nursing staff. “Quick, Silas. Who were you meeting up on that roof?”
“My source.”
“I need to know your source.”
He sighed, finally resigned to tell me. “Wendy Ackerman from the sheriff’s department. That’s between us.”
“She was the one on the roof?” I asked.
“No, she told me after that she never made the appointment with me. Someone else called me, pretending to be her.”
The nurses arrived and helped Silas. A sheriff’s patrolman was on his way to protect Silas. With everything in hand, Boone and I left the hospital.
“Something’s not right,” I said, outside. “It’s like I have all the puzzle pieces in front of me, and I’ve tried to smash them together to fit, but they’re not fitting.”
“Stop smashing them together and see what happens.”
“That’s pretty dumb advice.”
“I think I’ve proven I’m pretty dumb,” he said and wrapped his arm around my waist and walked me to my car.
The next morning, my friends woke up early and left the house to tackle the day. It was Saturday, the day of the giraffe parade and another day closer to the intergalactic war. They were expecting a huge influx of people for the weekend. The Gazette’s offices were closed on the weekend, but there were still stories to cover.
I took a long, hot shower and dressed in shorts, a t-shirt, and sneakers. The day was already hot, and the sun was brutal. After I fed the dogs, they insisted on staying inside where it was cool. Klee had the day off, but Jack was going to be covering the giraffe parade, and I was going to continue working on the Silas story and check in with the visitors searching for an intergalactic war.
Driving down to the Plaza, it was impossible to find parking. It was completely blocked off for the giraffe parade, and outside of the Plaza, each parking space was taken up by alien tourists. In fact, it looked like there were precious few people there to honor poor Daisy’s memory. Most people were wearing Vega and Andromeda t-shirts, and there were a whole lot of goatees happening. I parked three blocks away and walked back into the Plaza. By the time I arrived, I was sweating and gasping for air.
I took a moment to catch my breath. My altitude sickness seemed to get worse with the heat. As I stood in the Plaza, gasping, I took in what Rocco had accomplished since the night before. The area was completely decked out in preparation for the giraffe parade. Each storefront was decorated in streamers. There were balloons and flowers on every lamp post and tree. There was a brass band warming up in the center of the Plaza, and a slew of concession stands surrounding the bandstand. And everywhere, on every surface, there was a custom-made poster, marking the event. On each poster was written “In Honor of Daisy” and the date and time of the parade.
And there was a picture.
Each poster showed a happy giraffe, and around its neck was a BDSM sling and in the sling, was me.
Me.
Somehow Rocco had gotten my wedding photo, and had cut out my face from it and Photoshopped it into his poster.
I looked like a very happy BDSM devotee who had a thing for giraffes.
“Rocco!” I shouted.
I was going to kill him. I was going to poison him, push him off a roof, shoot him, and smother him with a pillow. I was going to do it all.
Grabbing the first person I saw, I asked where Rocco was. “Last I heard, there was a problem with the giraffes. Hey, don’t I know you? You look familiar.”
“No!” I said a little too loudly.
I wished for the days when I was the crazy girl instead of the BDSM girl. I searched the plaza for Rocco, finally finding him at the corn dog stand. His face brightened when he saw me.
“You changed your mind?” he asked me. “Thank you! This is going to be perfect. Don’t worry about the giraffes. They’re a little stressed right now, but I’m sure they’ll relax for the parade.”
“No!” I yelled at him. “I didn’t change my mind. I want no part of your giraffes. Take down the posters!”
“What? Why?”
“Why? Why? You put my head on it! You made me look like a freak!” I pointed to a poster, and that’s when I saw him.
Wade was standing on the other side of the Plaza, and when he saw me, his face set, as if he decided something. I took a step back, and he took a step forward. He raised his hand, and forming it into the shape of a gun, shot me. Then, he patted his chest, and the message was clear. He had a gun under his blazer, and he was going to use it on me.
“Gotta go,” I told Rocco.
My heart raced. I walked quickly in the other direction, and turning my head, I saw that Wade was following me and getting closer, fast. I sped up, and so did he until I was running full out.
Of course, I couldn’t outrun him. I could barely walk slowly without gasping for air. Now, I was on the verge of passing out. But a survival instinct is a funny thing. It’ll push a woman to superhuman feats. I ran down the street, weaving in between Vegan supporters and Andromedan supporters.
As I passed the diner, strong hands grabbed me and pulled me to a stop. I struggled against them until I realized it was Adele who had me. “Wade. Gun. Help,” I said.
She looked behind us at Wade, who was coming fast. She pulled me into the diner and pushed me past all of the customers, through the kitchen, past the cook, and through the back room to the alley. “Go to Goodnight UFOs,” she told me. “I’ll tell Faye you’re on your way. Girl power,” she said, raising her fist to the sky.
I ran like hell. My mouth was wide open, trying to bring oxygen into my lungs, but it was no use. After a couple of blocks, my vision got blurry, and I was stumbling over my feet. I didn’t think I was going to make it. I was going to get shot and the last picture of me was going to be in a BDSM outfit, hanging off a giraffe.
Just as I thought I was going to finally collapse, I spotted a group of obvious intergalactic war fans gathered in a parking lot just ahead. I had made it. Running around them, I opened the back door to the UFO shop and entered. Faye was waiting for me.
“Adele’s got him delayed in the diner, and I called Amos. So, you’re safe,” she told me.
“Thank goodness,” I gasped.
“Uh-oh,” Faye said, looking out the window.
“What?” I looked out the window, too. “Oh, no. Who’s he?” There was a man running through the parking lot on his way to the back door, and he had a not-too-well-concealed gun under his blazer, just like Wade.
“That’s Steve,” Faye said. “Wade’s partner. Come on. I have an idea.” I followed her to the stock room. She opened a box and pulled out a costume. “Norton had this custom made by a guy in Switzerland who was abducted four hundred times by the Andromedans. He says it’s an exact replica. They’ll never recognize you.”
I stripped down out of my clothes and put the costume on. It hugged me tight like a second skin and made me look reptilian with long, narrow, webbed hands and feet. Faye put the alien head on me, which locked into place, and made me look like I had giant fly-like eyes and antennae.
“I can barely breathe,” I said.
“Can you breathe?” she asked. Obviously, she couldn’t hear me from outside the mask. I gave her the thumbs up. “Go out there and mingle. He’ll never find you.”
As I left the stockroom, I saw Wade’s partner search through the store for me. Slowly, I made my way to the front of the shop. Faye was right about nobody recognizing me. She was also right about the outfit being an exact replica. Before I got to the front door, whispers went around the store that a real live Andromedan had arrived. “No, it’s just me,” I said, but of course nobody could hear me from inside the costume.
“All hail the Andromedans!” one man shouted, which i
ncited about ten more to yell the same thing. That sparked an outcry from the Vegan supporters.
Pro-me or anti-me, everyone wanted a piece of me. They lunged forward like a small wave, and I tried to make my escape. Now, instead of just having two armed killers after me, I had hundreds of conspiracy theorist nerds after me.
I managed to get the door open, and I ran for it. Running with altitude sickness was hard enough. But running in an alien mask was another thing, entirely. Not to mention that my reptilian alien feet were twice as big as my own and slapped the ground as I ran, threatening to trip me with every step.
I ran away, my reptilian feet flapping the ground and my hands flapping the air, as I tried to pump my scaly arms. I could see great through the fly-eyes, but I couldn’t hear very well, so it wasn’t until I turned my head that I saw the extent of my predicament. A sea of unwashed humanity was after me. Some wanted to be me. Some wanted me to move aside for the coming Vegan invasion.
I waved my hands in the air to get them to stop as I ran, but this seemed to rev them up even more. There was no way I was going to make it out of this horrible situation. I had run out of steam before I had ever put the costume on. Meanwhile, my pursuers were gung-ho and full of concession stand goodies.
I was a goner.
I was so focused on being run over by alien lovers, I didn’t notice that I had entered the parade area and that the giraffes had started their parade in memory of poor Daisy, who had been murdered by the town so many years ago.
For some reason, the giraffes were parading through the Plaza without any handlers, perhaps not to replay the horrible accident when Daisy killed her trainer. For whatever reason, they weren’t following the parade route. They were running to all four corners, understandably freaked out to find themselves in the middle of a small town’s downtown in New Mexico.
They were beautiful creatures, but I now had a sixty-percent chance of being trampled by one or more of them, if the people chasing me didn’t get me first.
Do you ever wonder how you got to this place in life? Do you ever second-guess your choices? I was doing a lot of both of those things as I made a sharp right past Gloria’s burrito stand and jumped over a stack of funnel cakes.
It was more than bedlam. Bedlam would have looked at this situation and thought it was over-the-top. The giraffes were everywhere, the alien fans were chasing me and trying to avoid the giraffes, and one lone Andromedan was flapping her arms as she tried to stay upright and alive.
And then the sheriff’s department showed up. Amos screeched his SUV to a stop in the middle of the Plaza and hopped out like a cowboy hero. In the middle of the chaos, he spotted me.
“Freeze!” he yelled and drew his gun on me. I waved my hands at him and ran toward him, relieved to finally be saved.
“Freeze or I’ll shoot!” he yelled again and aimed his weapon.
Part V: Goodnight Has Bad Giraffe Karma, and Matilda Tells It Like it is.
Toenails Fall Off in Epidemic of Nail Matrix Trauma
by Jack Remington
At least a dozen Goodnight women have suffered the loss of their toenails this week after they paid for fish pedicures at the Goodnight Community Center. Mabel Kessler imported the fish in order to build a spa-like business in town and bring in tourists.
“Don’t you dare say those women lost their toenails because of the fish pedicures,” she told this reporter. “There’s no proof the two have anything to do with each other. It could be a simple coincidence. Why aren’t you in school? How old are you?”
According to the toenail sufferers, their complaints began the day after they had fish pedicures. It started with tingling toes. “I was doing the laundry and folding my husband’s underpants when I looked down and my toenails were gone. Poof!” Laura Scott said. “I look like a seal, now. Seals don’t have toenails, right?”
According to Doc Greenberg, the fish caused a toenail matrix trauma, which made the toenails fall off. It’s not sure if the toenails will grow back, according to him.
Even though Ms. Kessler insists that the fish had nothing to do with the toenail issues, she reported that she had returned the fish. “No fish were harmed,” she explained. “They were shipped off in fish-friendly packing materials.”
Fish pedicures are popular for women with thick, crusty callouses on their feet. The fish eat the dead skin, leaving the feet smooth.
“I’ll never do that again,” Sarah Drew said. “Sure, my heels look great, but my toenails fell off at the grocery store in the cereal aisle. I’ll never live that down.”
Chapter 13
I put my scaly hands up and prayed that he wouldn’t shoot me. “Get down! I’m talking to you, alien thing! Get down on the ground!”
It took me a second to understand that I was the “alien thing” he was talking to and that he didn’t recognize me. I flopped onto my belly so I wouldn’t be shot.
But it turned out that he wasn’t aiming at the “alien thing.” He was aiming at Wade, who was behind me with his gun drawn.
It was a standoff, just like in the Wild West, except that giraffes were running by, townspeople were fleeing from them, screaming, and a hundred men were having a shoving war over who was better, Vegans or Andromedans. I had to hand it to Silas. What he was planning to write in his article must have been dynamite in order for Wade and Steve to go stark raving mad and run around the town with their guns drawn. At least that’s what I was assuming it was. It could have been me who made them crazy.
“Drop your weapon!” Amos shouted at Wade. While still on my belly, I turned my head to see Wade standing with his arm outstretched, his gun aimed directly at Amos. The seconds ticked away, and I was sure that someone was going to die.
Wade’s face changed slightly, and I knew that he was going to fire his gun. But before he could, a giraffe ran right into him, throwing him up into the air. I sat up and watched Wade hit the bandstand. Luckily, the musicians ducked for cover, but a tuba and a trombone took a direct hit.
Another giraffe ran by, almost running me over. “Watch out, alien thing!” Amos yelled. But I wasn’t the one who needed to watch out.
“Amos! Watch out!” It was Boone. He leaped into the air and tackled Amos to the ground, just as a shot was fired. I spun around to see Wade’s partner Steve with his gun pointed at Amos. Luckily, the shot missed Amos, but it took down the cotton candy machine.
Amos pushed Boone aside and jumped up and shot Steve in his shooting arm. Boone ran to Steve and subdued him on the ground. “I don’t need your help, asshole,” Amos said, handcuffing Steve and securing his gun.
“I saved your life, asshole,” Boone snapped.
“I was doing just fine without you.”
And then another shot ran out from the bandstand, and this one got Amos right through his cowboy hat. “Amos!” Boone yelled.
Miraculously, the bullet missed his head and only got his hat. Amos was fine. Wade was standing in the middle of the bandstand, ready to shoot again. “Sonofabitch,” Boone growled and ran right for him.
I stood up and put my hands on my alien head, watching with dread as Boone leaped through the air and tackled Wade in much the same way he had tackled Amos. It was lunacy.
But it worked. Wade went down with a terrible noise, as his body hit the tuba again. He was sure having a bad day. I would have thought he would have just laid there, but he fought against Boone. This time, Amos came to the rescue and subdued Wade, handcuffing him.
I ran to Amos and Boone. Since Amos was on the ground, I hugged Boone.
“What’s going on?” Boone asked. I stepped back and tried to get my alien head off. Unfortunately, my alien hands couldn’t do the job.
“It’s me!” I yelled from inside the head, but of course, he couldn’t hear me. I could hear everyone, but nobody could hear me. I wondered if the real Andromedans had the same problem.
“Oh, our dear Andromedan lord,” a man said, bowing in front of me. He was backed by a group of about thirty guys
, all with torn clothes and bruises. It had been a free-for-all. The intergalactic war turned out to be much more localized with the warring sides merely science fiction fans.
“I’m not an alien!” I yelled. I fumbled with my head, again, and finally it popped off, fell to the ground, and rolled down the street, where it got kicked by the last giraffe to pass through the town on its way to freedom.
“Sonofabitch,” Boone said.
“I’m not an alien,” I repeated. “I’m a Californian.”
There was generalized shock. I would have thought the giraffe stampede and the gunfight would have been the cause, but it was really a woman in an alien costume. Go figure.
The crowd disbursed. Their disappointment was palpable. The Plaza that was hundreds of years old was more or less destroyed. Whatever good giraffe karma Rocco was hoping to make had run away into the wild. I hoped they could hire a giraffe tracker to find them all, but I was doubtful. Wade and Steve were handcuffed, and a paramedic was treating Steve’s wound.
My head was a sweaty mess, and Adele came out of the diner to give me some water, but I couldn’t hold the glass with my alien hands.
“I’ve never seen anything like that before in my life,” Adele said, raising the glass to my mouth for me. “And I lived in a circus for two years.”
Amos and Boone stood side by side, but they were looking at the ground. “Go ahead,” Boone said. “Kiss her. Hug her. She’s yours. Go ahead.”
“I saw her hug you. She’s yours. You go and kiss her,” Amos said.
“No you.”
“No you.”
“It’s like they’re arguing about who’s going to pick up a pizza,” I said.
“Maybe one of the giraffes got them in the head,” Adele suggested.
“Are you rejecting her?” Amos asked Boone. “How dare you! She’s a wonderful woman!”
“I’m not rejecting her. But I’m not going to get in the way if she’s yours.”
“Bullshit. You’re rejecting her.”
“I’m not. Believe me. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, but there’s a lot more fury when a man gets between another man and his lady love,” Boone said, jarring me.
