by Jean Fischer
“Look. Here’s the potter’s house,” said Sydney. At the edge of the road, an old, tin mailbox sat atop a lovely statue of a mermaid. The name on the box said WILMA HEISER, POTTERY PLUS.
“The Wrights’ place has to be over there.” She pointed ahead to a sharp bend in the road.
“Listen!”
A loud rumble came from behind them. Some sort of vehicle had just turned off Persimmon Street and onto the private drive.
“Someone’s coming. We have to hide!”
Sydney grabbed Bailey and pulled her behind some tall bushes in the potter’s front yard. They could see the road.
Thud-thud … thud-thud … rumble … thud-thud … thud-thud … rumble … Whatever it was grew closer. It chugged along slowly, its headlights illuminating the sand. Soon, the girls saw a big, yellow wall. They could almost touch the school bus as it lumbered by, and in the darkness, they could barely make out the words.
LASERS
LEVITATING
ELEVATING
WRIGHT &
SON
ORIENTEERING
RACING
“It’s the Roswell bus,” Bailey whispered. She and Sydney watched it disappear around the bend at the end of the road. “What do we do now?”
“Let’s wait a few minutes,” Sydney answered. “Until we’re sure they’re inside.”
Soon the girls heard the sounds of hammering and sawing coming from the Wrights’ place. Cautiously, they walked to the bend in the road and, keeping in the cover of the trees, they got close enough to see the Wrights’ equipment shed. It was set about fifteen yards away from the grungy old house that Mr. Wright and Digger lived in.
The equipment shed was almost as big as the house, and its heavy front doors were wide open. A shower of sparks rained inside.
“Welding,” said Sydney. “They must be working on the whatever-it-is.”
An eerie, blue glow came from fluorescent lights hanging from the rafters, and a strong smell of hot steel wafted through the air.
The noise stopped for a few seconds. After a ghostly silence, the inside of the shed went dark.
“Look!” Bailey exclaimed. The shed lit up with flashing lights, first red, and then multicolored. “It’s the spaceship. Remember? I said that they were reconstructing their ship from parts Digger found on the beach. Now do you believe me?”
Sydney had to admit that they were looking at something very strange. “Let’s get closer so we can see what’s going on,” she said.
“I wish we had that listening thing Kate has,” said Bailey. “You know, that little gadget that lets you hear a conversation from a block away? Then we could know what’s happening without having to go right to the building. Syd, do you think they have the lighthouse lady locked up in there?”
“I don’t know,” her friend replied. “But we’re going to find out.”
She took Bailey by the hand and they crept along the side of the road, careful to stay in the shadows. A soft whirring sound came from the shed now, and Sydney and Bailey made a wide circle, staying clear of the open doors. Then they tiptoed to the side of the shed, just below the window.
“I don’t think it’s safe to look inside just yet,” Sydney said. “We should listen for a while.”
She’d barely gotten the words out when the colored lights stopped and a bright white light started to flash. One, two, three, four, five flashes. Then nothing. One, two, three, four, five more.
“It’s that code from Close Encounters of the Third Kind!” Bailey whispered. “That’s the light we saw in the ocean yesterday morning.”
The flashing stopped. For a few seconds, the shed went dark again. Then it was suddenly lit up by the overhead lights and the bluish fluorescent glow.
“Well, the signal lights work fine,” the girls heard Digger say. “I wish I could program the other lights to change color so opponents can disguise themselves. It would add more strategy to the battle. Imagine that you’re approaching a friendly craft, but when you get there, you find it’s an enemy craft disguised as a friend.”
The girls sat on the ground beneath the window with their backs pressed against the side of the building. Sydney could hear Bailey breathing fast and heavy. She felt her own muscles growing more tense.
Relax, Syd, she told herself. Think! There has to be a logical explanation.
Bailey whispered so softly that Sydney could barely hear her.
“Maybe they’re not trying to get home to their planet,” she said. “It sounds like they’re going to wage war on an enemy spaceship, or something. Syd, they’re planning a space war!”
“I doubt it, Bailey,” Sydney whispered back. “You know at the lighthouse they said something about Captain Swain helping with the rudder. A rudder is part of a boat. Could that be some sort of funky boat?”
“That’s a great idea,” Mr. Wright boomed out. The girls jumped. Then as he continued, they realized he wasn’t talking to them but to Digger. “But if I were you, son, I’d leave the lights alone for now. Save changing the colors for Phase Two. Hit ’em with what you’ve got. Then, after it takes off, surprise ’em with something even better.”
“I guess you’re right, Dad,” said Digger.
“See? They’re planning to strike with some sort of weapon,” Bailey whispered. “It probably has to do with that coffee mug thing that we found on the beach.”
Sydney was feeling very vulnerable sitting under the window. If anyone came along, they would surely see the girls. She noticed a brown tarp in the grass nearby. Staying close to the ground, she shimmied over and pulled it back to where Bailey sat.
“Here, let’s cover up with this,” she said, draping it over herself and Bailey.
“The noise problem is fixed now,” Mr. Wright was saying. “When these crafts are on the ocean at night, the folks near the beach won’t hear them. So there won’t be any trouble.”
“And I’ve got the hover fan working fine now,” said Digger. “As soon as the craft hits the beach, a blast of air lifts it off the ground, and you can go anywhere without it being heard.”
Bailey linked her arm with Sydney’s.
“That was the puff of air that we felt on the beach!” she said. “Drake Wright went past us in the dark with that thing just a few yards away from us. Do you think he saw us?”
“I’m almost sure of it,” Sydney answered. “Now we know the Wrights are responsible for those strange lights over the water.”
“I’m telling you, it’s a spacecraft!” Bailey insisted.
The word hover brought a picture in Sydney’s mind.
“Listen, Bailey!” she exclaimed. “The word hover…one day at home, I thought I saw something just floating around outside my window. When I looked out, it was a remote-controlled helicopter one of my friends was flying. Do you think this is some sort of remote-controlled device? Like a spaceship-shaped, remote-controlled thing?”
“No. How could they fly it in the dark?” Bailey said.
“I’m going to text Kate,” Sydney said, wiggling around to pull the phone out of her pocket. “She’ll be able to tell us if it’s at least possible.”
Sydney had started texting when the sound of a hammer pounding against metal startled the girls. Digger said, “We need to get this rudder fixed. When that’s done we can load her up.”
The pounding started again.
“See, they do have the lighthouse lady,” Bailey said. “I hope she’s all right. They’re planning to load her onto the spacecraft.”
Sydney didn’t answer. Her mind was racing trying to come up with answers for her questions. “Test the spirits to see whether they are from God.” She remembered hearing her pastor preach about that in church. As Sydney sat there thinking, she believed more than ever that Mr. Wright and Drake Wright were not space aliens.
“You know if it’s some sort of boat—since rudders are part of boats—they always call boats ‘she,’” Sydney explained.
“Cap has the paperwork done and ev
erything is in order,” Mr. Wright said. “It’s up to you now, son. You have to get it out there for the right person to see. Plenty of investors are vacationing in Corolla and the other subdivisions around here. If you show it around, surely you’ll find a backer or two.”
“Huh?” Bailey whispered to Sydney under the tarp. “What are they talking about now?”
“Beats me,” Sydney answered.
Listen, said a little voice in her head.
“We should just listen,” she told Bailey.
“You have to get the word out,” Mr. Wright continued. “I’m not going to help you this time, son. If you’re going to be successful, you need to get out there with people and show them what you’re up to. Why, think about our cousins. Some people thought they were crazy to keep jumping off cliffs with their flying machine, but they didn’t let that get to them. They kept at it, and today—”
“But, Dad,” Digger said, “I don’t think I can do it. Besides, I don’t mind keeping to myself. I like having time alone to wander and pick up stuff on the beach that we can sell to scrap yards. Last night, I found another doubloon for the Cap. He likes giving them to the kids at the lighthouse, you know.”
The girls heard a few more strikes of the hammer against metal.
“Are you going to spend the rest of your life selling junk you find on the beach?” Mr. Wright asked his son. “Or are you going to face your fear and live the life God gave you. Remember what the Cap always says.”
“‘I can do all things through Him who strengthens me,’” Digger replied.
“That’s what Captain Swain said to me when I was afraid to climb the lighthouse,” Bailey whispered.
“I know,” Sydney answered. “I want to look inside and see what’s going on.”
“Me, too,” Bailey said. “But I’m scared.”
The girls stood, still wrapped in the tarp. They dropped it around their shoulders and peeked through the dirty window.
“Oh my.” Bailey gasped.
“Awesome,” Sydney exclaimed in a whisper.
In the center of the shed sat a vehicle beyond her imagination. It was about the size of a small car, but round. It was painted a soft gray-blue, the color of the ocean on an overcast day. The paint sparkled the way sunlight dances on waves.
In the center of the craft a cockpit was covered with a clear glass bubble. It reminded Sydney of pictures she’d seen in school textbooks of fighter jets. As she watched, Digger climbed into the cockpit and flipped a switch. The flashing colored lights encircled the craft and spun around its middle. Drake Wright sat in the driver’s seat and grinned.
“What do you think it is?” Bailey asked.
“I don’t know,” Sydney replied. “It’s not like anything I’ve seen in my whole life. It’s kind of beautiful.”
“But scary, too,” Bailey added.
“Maybe it wouldn’t be if we knew what it was,” said Sydney.
A muted whoosh came from the craft. It sounded like a choir softly singing “Shhhhhh …”
As Bailey and Sydney watched, the machine rose off the ground. It hovered several feet above the floor. Then it slowly began to rotate. It spun around faster and faster, and the girls heard Digger laughing gleefully. Slowly, it stopped and dropped gently back to the floor. Drake opened the cover on the cockpit and said, “Well, if it doesn’t make it as a water sport, maybe I can market it as a carnival ride.”
Mr. Wright chuckled. “You’re a Wright, my boy,” he said. “You always have a backup plan.”
Sydney motioned to Bailey to sit. The girls sank back to the ground and covered themselves with the tarp.
“Now I’m really confused,” said Bailey. “I’m not so sure it’s a spaceship anymore, are you?”
“I was never sure it was a spaceship,” said Sydney. “I just don’t know what it is yet.”
She started to crawl out from under the tarp again.
“What are you doing now?” Bailey asked.
“Stay put,” Sydney answered. She crawled to the window. When she was sure the Wrights had their backs to her, she took several photos of the contraption. Then she climbed back under the tarp.
“I didn’t use the flash,” she said. “I think it’s bright enough in there for the pictures to turn out.” She looked at the display on her phone and saw she was right. The photos were clear enough to show the craft in the middle of the equipment shed floor.
“Now what?” Bailey asked.
“I’m texting Kate,” Sydney replied. “And sending her these pictures. You know how smart she is about technological stuff. She might know what this is.”
SYDNEY: K8, WE’RE HIDING OUT NEXT TO THE WRIGHTS’ EQUIPMENT SHED. LOOK AT THESE PICTURES. THEY’VE BUILT THIS THING. IT HAS FLASHING LIGHTS THAT SPIN AROUND IT. IT CAN HOVER A FEW FEET OFF THE FLOOR AND IT ROTATES REALLY FAST. WHAT IS IT?
Sydney sent the message, flipped her phone closed, and stuck it back in her pocket.
“I don’t think the Wrights are aliens,” she told Bailey. “It looks like that thing is just another one of their crazy inventions. But what is it?”
“Digger said something about a water sport,” said Bailey.
“I don’t think a water sport would be remote-controlled,” Sydney said reluctantly. “And we’ll wait to hear back from Kate, but I think anything that is as big as that would be too heavy to be remote-controlled…”
“Unless the battery was as big as a bus!” Bailey said.
“Hmm. Could they have a giant battery in that bus of theirs?” Sydney asked. “Nah. I don’t think that’s the answer.”
“But they talked about battles and enemies. That doesn’t fit with any water sport I know of. And what about the lighthouse lady? Where has she disappeared to? And then there’s Captain Swain. Who do you think he really is? And where is he? Wasn’t he supposed to be here helping the Wrights tonight?”
“I’m right here, Bailey Chang,” said a voice in the darkness. “And I can answer all of your questions.”
Answers
Bailey and Sydney crawled out from under the tarp.
Captain Swain stood in the shadows looking at them. He was still wearing jeans, as he had been that morning, and now he had on a sweatshirt that said NAVY on its front. His captain’s cap sat squarely on his head.
“What are you girls doing here?” he asked gently.
“You answer our question first,” said Bailey. “Who are you, really?”
“You know who I am, Bailey Chang,” said the captain. “I’m Captain Nathan Swain.”
“No, you’re not!” Sydney answered. “Captain Nathan Swain is dead. We saw his picture in an old paper. He was the lighthouse keeper here about a hundred years ago, so you can’t be him unless you’re an imposter.”
“Or a ghost!” Bailey added.
“Well, I don’t think you’re a ghost,” Sydney said with a smile. “But Captain Nathan Swain, the lighthouse keeper, didn’t have any sons, so you can’t be his son. But I suspect you’re another relative.”
The captain smiled. “Kudos. Congratulations to you for figuring it out, Miss Sydney Lincoln. Captain Nathan Swain, the lighthouse keeper, was my uncle,” he said. “I resemble him, but I can assure you, Miss Bailey Chang, that I’m not his ghost. Now, as far as being an imposter, Sydney Lincoln, I’ll admit to that. I sometimes masquerade as my uncle.”
“Why?” Sydney asked.
Before the captain could answer, Bailey interrupted.
“If you’re for real, why did you disappear when we were at the top of the lighthouse?” She climbed out from the tarp and stood up. “One minute you were there, and then you were gone. And the same thing happened on the beach. You were there walking your dog, we talked to you, and then you disappeared. What’s up with that?”
The captain leaned against the side of the equipment shed.
“Bailey, my girl, you have quite the imagination. I’m sorry if you thought I had abandoned you. Once you girls were safe on the lookout, I hurried to an app
ointment I was already late for. I should have said farewell, at least. I sincerely apologize for being rude.” He tipped the brim of his cap. “As for the incident on the beach, McTavish saw a cat and ran off. I ran after him. McTavish is a good boy, you know, but he hates cats and would do harm to one if he caught it. I’m sure by the time you looked for me, I was chasing my dog across the dunes.”
The clues were beginning to add up for Sydney. There was no ghost of Captain Nathan Swain, and she was certain the captain wasn’t helping the Wrights build a spaceship.
“But you were wearing a captain’s uniform at the lighthouse,” she said, getting off the ground. “The kind captains wore years and years ago.”
“I was acting,” said the captain. “I volunteer at the lighthouse where I play the role of Captain Nathan Swain, the lighthouse keeper. When schoolchildren tour, I tell them the story of the lighthouse and about the pirates and shipwrecks of the Outer Banks. In fact, years ago, I did work in the lighthouse, helping maintain the beacon up top.”
Bailey was beginning to feel a bit foolish for thinking that the captain was a ghost, but she still had some unanswered questions.
“So why were you on the beach yesterday morning with Digger?” she asked. “We heard you talking with him about not putting the vehicle in the water until after I went home. What exactly is he up to, and what’s that thing in the shed?”
The captain shook his head. “‘Let the words of my mouth be acceptable in Your sight, O Lord …’ Just me and God talking out loud,” he said. “I know that folks around here call him Digger, but Drake Wright is the young man’s name. And, Bailey, before I tell you what young Mr. Wright and I were discussing yesterday morning, why don’t you tell me why you girls are hiding here in the dark.”
Bailey sighed. She was almost certain her theory about space aliens and space wars was wrong. “We thought … well, actually I thought the Wrights were space aliens and you were helping them get back to the Mother Ship after their spacecraft crashed into the ocean. I thought Digger, I mean Drake, was picking up pieces of the spacecraft along the beach and that the Wrights were rebuilding it in their equipment shed. And I think they’ve kidnapped the lighthouse lady. I thought they were going to take her to wherever with them. We’re spying on them to find out what’s going on.”
