by Rae Knightly
Grampa fought to keep a straight face, but his speeding heartbeat on the heart monitor gave him away. Grampa had understood. And he was afraid.
Connelly’s smile faded as he continued: “Too bad Mesmo made it out alive. My mission would have ended all those weeks ago. Instead, I have had to endure this repulsive human face for weeks. I am tired and impatient. And when I am impatient my anger tends to run out of control.” He glared menacingly at Grampa: “I am running out of patience now, Mr. Archer. Tell me where I can find Mesmo!”
Grampa whimpered. With a trembling arm he tried to reach for the red call button on the wall behind his bed, but it was too far away.
Impatiently, Connelly grabbed Grampa’s arm, pushing it down onto the bed. “Tell me!” He threatened.
The heart monitor was beeping wildly as Grampa’s breath became ragged, but his eyes hardened as he gasped through gritted teeth: “You are a murderer! You won’t get anything out of me!”
The alien put his mouth very close to Grampa’s ear, making Grampa’s skin crawl: “Maybe,” he snarled menacingly: “I should ask your grandson!”
***
That night, the nightmare returned.
Twisted eyes!
At the screams, Laura stumbled out of bed automatically. She felt her way to Ben’s room, then grabbed her son’s shoulder to shake him awake. Ben opened his eyes dizzily as he tried to catch his bearings. When he recognized where he was, he tumbled back into bed, breathing heavily. Laura shushed him as she rubbed his back, but before long she fell asleep again.
Ben’s mind struggled between waking and sleeping. As soon as his eyelids shut, he would startle awake again with his heart beating fast. At one point he caught sight of the watch that he had left under the bedside lamp. He reached for it in the dark, put it on his wrist and covered his head with the bedsheet. Holding on tightly to the watch with his other hand, he calmed down and fell into an uneasy slumber.
In the room, by the window, a tall man with white, wavy hair appeared. Though his eyes were lost in the shadows, he was clearly observing the woman and Ben’s form lying under the bedsheets. He approached the bed silently.
Suddenly, the shrill sound of a phone echoed through the dark house. As soon as the apparition noticed Laura stirring, it disappeared.
The phone rang many times before Laura managed to drag herself awake enough to rush down the stairs. In his sleep, Ben heard her muffled voice turn to grief.
Grampa!
In an instant he was awake, sitting upright in bed.
They rushed to the Chilliwack General Hospital where they found a lot of commotion on Grampa’s floor: hospital staff were rushing around semi-dark hallways, talking intensely in low voices. An outage had triggered the emergency lights, which bathed the doctor and two nurses in a ghostly, red light as they stood in front of Grampa’s room. The doctor broke the news to them: Grampa had passed away thirty minutes ago. He said Grampa had somehow managed to fall out of bed, where the nurses had found him in cardiac arrest. In spite of all their efforts, they had not been able to revive him.
After talking quietly with a distraught Laura, the doctor excused himself, as he needed to check in on his other patients after the outage. One of the nurses asked if Laura wanted to see her father before they took him away, to which Laura nodded.
Laura asked her in a grief-filled voice: “Did he say anything, before…?” She swallowed, unable to finish the sentence.
The nurse said gently. “Well, he did, actually. But I’m afraid it didn’t make much sense.”
Laura stared at her expectantly.
The nurse continued: “He said something like ‘Find Mesmo’. Well, that’s what I could make of it, anyway.” She shrugged apologetically: “Do you have any idea what that might mean?”
Laura’s eyes dimmed, as she shook her head.
No-one noticed Ben’s face turning ghostly pale.
***
The immigration officer eyed the tall man in the fur hat, then glanced at the passport he was holding in his hand. Before him a throng of tired but patient travellers were chatting away quietly while they waited to be cleared though Customs and Immigration of the bustling Toronto Airport.
“What’s with the hat?” The officer asked.
The man straightened the hat with ear flaps, so the officer could get a better look at him, but did not remove it from his head. “A souvenir from South America.” He explained. “From a guide who trecked with me through the Andes mountains.”
The officer eyed him without showing the slightest emotion. He checked something on his screen for an annoying amount of time, then reached for a stamp on his desk.
Just then his phone rang. The officer picked up the receiver and listened silently. “Yes, Sir.” Was all he said, before hanging up. He stared at his screen thoughfully, then picked up the stamp again and pressed it onto Jack Anderson’s passport, leaving a circular ink mark on it to allow the man entry.
“Welcome back to Canada, Sir.” The officer said, offering the passport back to the traveller.
Mesmo reached out, but the officer held on to it. He pointed behind him at the different line-ups leading to baggage reclaim. “Your connecting CanAir flight to Vancouver is the first exit to the left. You don’t have much time. Your luggage will follow automatically.” He explained.
Mesmo nodded. The officer let go of the passport.
The tall alien who was travelling under the name Jack Anderson headed away from the cumbersome immigration officer and let out a low sigh of relief. He walked down the large hall with quick strides and noticed an exit with a paper sign that read: “CanAir 217, Vancouver”.
Mesmo plunged through the automatic doors, briefly noting that he was the only traveller headed to that destination. Five men in business suits were waiting on the other side.
“It’s him.” One imposing man said into a tiny speaker attached to his ear, as the doors slid shut behind Mesmo.
Immediately the other four men lunged at the alien, pinning him to the ground. Swiftly, the imposing man injected something into Mesmo’s neck with a needle. The alien felt his muscles go week and his sight became blurred.
“We have him, boss.” The man spoke quielty into the handsfree speaker, as Mesmo lost unconsciousness.
CHAPTER SIX
Mesmo
TWO DAYS LATER, LAURA AND BEN WERE
standing in the rain before Grampa’s grave, dressed in black raincoats covering a black dress and a dark grey suit, respectively. They had trouble concentrating on the priest’s eulogy about Grampa, as they were taken aback by the amount of people who had shown up at the funeral.
Following normal etiquette, Laura had placed a small announcement with the date and time of the funeral in the Chilliwack Times obituary, but even so they had not expected anyone else to be there. Laura was reminded of the fact that her parents had lived in Chilliwack their whole lives and had known a lot of local people. Through watery eyes, she thought she recognized some faces from her childhood.
When the ceremony was over, people streamed away after having paid their respects. Ben edged away, not really interested in speaking to any of these strangers. Tike had wandered off, so the boy searched the green graveyard until he found his dog sitting alert next to a thick tree surrounded by shrubs. Glad to have something else to think about, Ben walked over to his faithful companion to see what had caught his attention.
“Tike?” Ben called, before realizing a man was standing unmoving next to the tree. Tike was gazing up at the stranger with his tail wagging uncertainly.
Ben stopped in surprise, glancing at the tall man who was wearing jeans, a brown jacket and a curious fur hat with ear flaps. The outfit was completely out-of-place for a funeral, yet there was something vaguely familiar about him. “Hi.” Ben said timidly, encouraged by Tike’s trusting attitude. The man stared at him without replying. “Er… did you know my grandfather?” Ben ventured.
The man’s face was drawn, as if he had not slep
t in a long time or was fighting off an illness. “Yes.” He replied finally, without further explanation.
“Oh.” Was all Ben could say in return, noticing the stranger’s grey skin. He realized that the man was gazing intently at his arm. Ben lifted it up, confused, then remembered the watch that Grampa had given him. He tentatively turned his arm towards the stranger, the words slipping from his mouth before he could stop them: “It was my Grampa’s before...” He broke off, nodding in the direction of the ceremony.
The man stared at the funeral procession, then up-and-down at Ben. He became extremely pale as a strong emotion overcame him, making him sway.
“Are you ok?” Ben asked.
The man’s body was hunched forward, but he managed to straighten himself and gasped: “Yes.” His brow creased in terrible disappointment.
Ben opened his mouth to say something when Laura walked up beside him. “Oh, hello.” She said to the stranger. “It’s nice to see you again.” Ben blinked at her in astonishment, as she continued: “I’m Laura, Ryan’s daughter. Do you remember?” She held out her hand to greet him. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember your name?”
To their surprise the man stepped back, avoiding her touch by putting his hands in his pockets. Laura dropped her hand awkwardly, not sure how to interpret his reaction. “Jack Anderson.” The man said briefly as manner of greeting.
Ben was glaring at his mother, waiting for an explanation.
“I met Jack a few weeks ago.” She explained to her son, her face flushed. “After you were well enough to go back to school, I drove out to Chilliwack, in the hopes your grandfather had returned from wherever it was he had disappeared to…” She waved her hand vaguely. “Instead I found Jack here taking care of Grampa’s place.” She shook her head, remembering: “But I never did get to see Grampa that time. Who knows where he had gone off to?” She turned to Jack, adding: “Thank you for checking up on the house, by the way.”
Jack nodded in acknowledgement: “Your father helped me through some difficult times.”
“He seems to have helped a lot of people.” She agreed, pointing to the dwindling crowd. She noticed two elderly ladies under an umbrella who were waving her over. “Oh. I have to go.” She said, sounding disappointed. “Er… why don’t you come over to the house later? It looks like we’re having an unplanned reception. We can talk further there, away from the rain.”
When Jack didn’t answer, Laura waved at him shyly before going over to the two women who wanted to pay their respects.
Ben stared at Jack with new curiosity. “Will you come? To the house, I mean?” He was eager to talk to someone who had seen his grandfather in the past weeks.
The man shook his head: “I came here hoping to find someone.” He gazed intensely at Ben, adding slowly: “But now I know I won’t find her here.” He took a deep breath, his face pale, then turned around, saying: “Goodbye, Benji."
How did you know my name?
Ben felt an urge to hold the man back. "Wait!” He blurted: “Have we met before?"
Jack glanced back at him before replying: “Yes.” When he saw Ben staring at him hopefully, he added: “Your grandfather told me you couldn’t remember.” He paused: “It’s probably better that way.” He turned around again and started to walk away.
“That’s what Grampa said!” Ben called after him. “That it was best I didn’t remember. But I want to remember!”
Still Jack kept on walking.
Ben’s heart thumped desperately. He felt a pull towards this stranger. A small lock of white hair sticking out from under the fur hat triggered something in his mind.
Mesmo.
“Mesmo!” Ben yelled.
The man froze in his tracks, then slowly turned to face Ben. Man and boy stared at each other.
“Grampa told me, just before he died, to find Mesmo.” Ben said in awe. “You’re Mesmo!”
I just know it!
Though the man's eyes softened, he replied: “I’m sorry, Benji. I can’t help you.” This time he didn’t stop walking as he disappeared into the trees.
Wait!
Ben ran after him. The branches swayed gently in the wind while the rain pattered on the yellowing leaves. Mesmo was gone. Ben and Tike found themselves standing at the edge of the forest, alone. Ben gazed back towards Grampa’s grave, his eyes filled with tears.
Laura was waiting by the car for him. She opened the door for her son as he trudged sadly over to her. Silently they headed off back to the house, leaving the soggy graveyard behind.
Not far off, a plume of white smoke came out of the exhaust pipe of a white, unmarked van. Inside, two men in business suits were typing away on computers as they spoke through headsets. Inspector James Hao hovered behind them, surveilling the information on the various screens. One of the men had pulled up photographs of the funeral, so he could review them.
“Send this off for processing immediately. I want a name for every face on these pictures.” Hao ordered.
Fifteen minutes later, the van door slid open and Agent Theodore Connelly appeared in the rain behind them. He climbed in, slid the door closed before taking off his dripping coat.
Hao cornered him immediately, hissing: “Agent Connelly. You missed the whole thing! Where have you been?”
Connelly held his gaze before replying coldly: “Investigating.”
Hao retorted in a menacing low voice: “You may have impressed the big guys at the Dugout, wonder boy! But remember who’s in charge here! You do not go off on your own without prior authorization. I want a report on your current investigations on my desk by tomorrow. Do you understand?”
Connelly’s mouth twitched, and it was only after a pause that bordered on subordination, that he answered: “Yes, Sir.”
Hao backed away, satisfied: “Good!” He grabbed his coat before opening the van door: “I’ll take over from here.” He closed the door quickly, walked over to a silver Nissan and slid inside. Soon he was driving off, the white van following closely.
***
It didn’t take long for the house to be crowded with people from Chilliwack. It was as if they had all called each other, agreeing to meet there. Laura didn’t even have to worry about food or drinks: they appeared magically in the kitchen and living room with every person that arrived. She felt overwhelmed at so much attention. She was amazed as one person after another told her about how Grampa had helped them out in one way or another. She even found herself talking for several minutes with a man in ragged clothes, long, unkempt beard and weird-knitted beanie hat. She suspected he was a homeless man everyone in Chilliwack referred to as Wayne the Bagman, because he always trudged around town with his few possessions packed away in a garbage bag. Laura wouldn’t have been surprised if her Dad had met him while helping out at the local shelter.
People lined up to talk to her, so they could tell her their stories of how they remembered Laura as a small girl or how her poor mother had passed away prematurely. Naturally, the conversation always tended to switch to The Cosmic Fall, and how the fallen meteors had affected each and every Chilliwack resident in one way or another.
From the corner of her eye, Laura caught Ben sneaking between people’s backs, a ham sandwich in his mouth. She excused herself from a woman who was asking her where her father had been in the past two months. She took Ben by the arm, pulling him away until they found themselves in the large pantry next to the kitchen. She closed the door, switched on the light and leant back, gasping.
Both of them stood there for a moment, their ears ringing from so much chatter. They stared at each other in disbelief, giggling nervously. They put their hands to their mouths to stifle their laughter. They had never seen so many people in Grampa’s house before.
“Who are all these people?” Ben asked incredulously.
Laura said: “I think half of Chilliwack is here! Grampa was some kind of Chilliwack hero, by the looks of it.”
They stifled laughter at the thought.
&n
bsp; It felt good to release their emotions like this, even though it seemed highly inappropriate to be laughing at a funeral reception. Somehow, though, they knew Grampa would have approved. Once the ringing in their ears had calmed down, Laura looked at her son worriedly: “How are you holding up?”
Ben shrugged but answered bravely: “I’m ok.”
Laura hesitated for a moment, before continuing: “I spoke to Mrs. Gallagher just now. She and her husband run an accounting business downtown. Anyway, she’s heading for Vancouver later to visit her daughter.” She paused, before adding: “I think you should go with her. She has offered to take you with her.”
“What? No way! But… why? What about you?” Ben protested.
“I need to stay here to take care of things. I got a call from the notary in Chilliwack. He wants me to come in tomorrow for Grampa’s will. I think you, on the other hand, might be better off at home. You’ve had nightmares ever since we got here. You were right, this place isn’t doing you any good.” She admitted. “Anyway,” she added, “Tomorrow is a school day. It might take your mind off things.”
Oh man, really?
Ben groaned.
“Think about it, Ben. I’m going to be dealing with funeral companies, notaries and bankers. You’d find yourself on your own while I dealt with all this administrative mess. I’d feel better if you were back home with some kind of routine. It might help with the nightmares.”
I don’t want to deal with administrative stuff! I don’t want to go back to school…!
He opened his mouth, then saw his mother’s pleading eyes.
You’re having a hard time with this too, aren’t you?
He closed his mouth again, then nodded reluctantly.
“I’ll only be a couple of days at the most.” She said apologetically.
“It’s ok, Mom.” Ben said gruffly.
