Aliens in Disguise

by Clete Barrett Smith

“Looks like you made it back inside just in time,” Cottage Cheese Head said. They both laughed.

  But it made me realize how close those two humans had come to getting inside the house and witnessing something like that. Why had they come? They didn’t act angry or scared, like the mob of townsfolk that had converged on the B&B last summer. Instead, they seemed…eager.

  And maybe that was worse.

  I was pacing on the front porch, thinking about the costumed humans—What did they want? How much did they know?—when Amy returned with the alien class.

  The kids raced down the walkway, chattering and shedding their human clothes. Mrs. Crowzen tottered along behind them, scooping up hats and tennis shoes.

  “I’ll be there in a second to make you a snack,” Amy called as the kids rushed into the house. She climbed the steps and walked over to me. “Hey, there. We had fun but came back early because they’re starving. I think we’re going to—” She stopped, studying my face. “David? Is anything wrong?”

  “I think we have trouble,” I said. “Again.”

  “Oh, no.” She clutched my arm. “Did my dad come home while everyone was out?”

  I shook my head. “Worse.”

  I gave her the details about the weird humans, including their promise to come back. Soon.

  “I knew it,” she said. “Something just didn’t feel right. We should have done more. We should have staked out that car and followed it back to wherever they’re staying, or figured out how to—”

  “Right, okay, but we can’t worry about what we should’ve done.” I shook my head, as if maybe that would clear it out and set the stage for a great idea. “We’re the ones in charge, and we have to figure out what to do now.”

  “Hmmmmm.” Amy chewed her lower lip. “If they tried to sneak in on the Fourth, that means they’ve been planning to get inside for a while. And if they’ve been monitoring the house, they probably know that you and I are here alone.”

  “You’re not exactly helping me feel better.”

  “What do you think they want?”

  “No idea.”

  Now she was the one pacing back and forth. I slumped down on Tate’s driftwood bench, glad to have someone to share the worry with.

  “I think we should go back into my dad’s lockdown mode,” she said. “I know it’s lame, but it might be the only thing that works. Besides, the kids had their field trip, so Mrs. Crowzen shouldn’t have anything to complain about.”

  “That’s probably a good idea.” I nodded. “Heck, we can just tell everybody to get into the transporters and go home. Then lock the doors, close up the shutters, and hunker down. Wait for Grandma or your dad to get back.”

  Amy’s face fell. “Oh, I guess that’s probably best. But we should give them some coupons for a free weekend stay or something, to make up for it.” She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I just wanted the chance to show that we could do it—all by ourselves—you know? I imagined that your grandma would get back and everything would be running smoothly and she’d be so proud of us.”

  “She’ll be proud of us if we keep those weirdoes out of her house.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” Amy stopped pacing and looked at me. “So we’re agreed? Evacuation and lockdown, wait until the storm passes?”

  I nodded.

  “Where’s my sister?” the bench said.

  “AAAHHH!” Amy screamed and I yelled.

  The shape of Kanduu became recognizable when he hopped off the bench. I swear, I’d never get used to that.

  “What?” Amy said, when she had recovered.

  “My sister. I thought she was with the girls, but they thought she was with me.”

  Amy and I looked at each other. “Wait a minute. Are you saying that—?”

  Mrs. Crowzen stumbled out onto the porch, her face a mask of fear.

  “One of the children is missing,” she said.

  When trouble comes to the B&B, it never comes alone. It always brings a few friends along for the ride.

  I stood in front of a somber group of aliens, leading the discussion about little Kandeel. The last time anyone could remember seeing her was at the ice cream parlor, right in the middle of downtown Forest Grove. It had been the group’s final stop after a tour of town. Apparently there was some confusion after a bathroom break, when the kids were supposed to form two groups for the walk home, and Kandeel had been left behind.

  I said, “I wonder if there’s any chance she’ll come back on her own.”

  I had been thinking out loud, but Kanduu answered. “Negative. When she’s scared, she hides. Totally freezes.”

  “And she’s been scared pretty much the whole time we’ve been on this planet,” Lizard Boy said.

  Kanduu nodded. “She’s never been off-world before. I bet she’s already ditched those earthling clothes and is just blending in somewhere downtown.”

  “I don’t think I’d be able to find the way back on my own,” one of the girls added.

  “Yeah,” said another one. “Earth towns are pretty confusing. I didn’t know that—”

  “Okay, okay, I got it. She’s not coming back on her own.” I started pacing. “Moving on.”

  Amy sat hunched over on the couch, her head in her hands. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” It was approximately the 187th time she had said that.

  “Amy, no one is blaming you, we just need to figure out how—”

  “If I hadn’t been so focused on telling them everything I knew about Forest Grove, none of this would have ever happened. It’s all my fault.”

  “You?” Mrs. Crowzen wailed, clacking away with those claws. “What about me? A teacher’s most important job on a field trip is to make sure her students are safe.” She started leaking all over.

  “Ladies, please. We can play the blame-and-shame game later, okay? Right now we need to figure out how to find Kandeel.” I scanned the crowd. Nobody was volunteering any ideas. I took a deep breath. “All right, let’s look at the situation. The good news is that I’m sure none of the humans can see her. That girl is freaky good at hiding.”

  “That’s also the bad news, though, right?” one of the former slime-drippers chimed in. “If she’s impossible to see, how are we going to find her?”

  I sighed heavily. “Yes, that’s also the bad news.” I paced some more. “Okay, look. How about this: Amy and I will go back into town, split up, and walk around. Keep our eyes open. We know Kandeel is scared, so if she sees us she’s likely to say something, do something to get our attention. Right? Then we can sort of smuggle her back here. She’s tiny. Think that’ll work?”

  Everyone shook their heads no.

  “Why not?”

  Nobody had a plan, but everybody had an opinion about mine.

  “—because she’s kind of scared of you, too, and—”

  “—voice is so quiet, you’ll never hear her downtown with all of the—”

  “—sure, the town’s small, but still too big for just two people to get around to all of—”

  “—what if someone sees her without her disguise when you pick her up and—”

  Snarffle whistle-whined along with the nervous babble.

  I held up my hands for silence.

  “Okay, okay. I got it. That plan won’t work.” More pacing. “Moving on.”

  “And besides,” Kanduu said, “we do not have the necessary time to complete this already impossible task.”

  “What do you mean?” I said. “There’s no time limit. We just have to keep thinking until we come up with a good plan, and then search until we find her.”

  Kanduu shook his head again. “Remember the beacon? From the night of the sky show?”

  Oh, crap. “Everybody in Forest Grove remembers that beacon,” I said. And they wouldn’t think it was part of the fireworks display this time.

  “When she gets scared enough, she’ll use it,” Kanduu said. “We definitely have a time limit.”

  Mrs. Crowzen started wailing again.
r />   “Please,” I said. “This isn’t helping. We need to—”

  “You don’t understand.” She sniveled noisily. “I send a report each evening to the school. When I say that one of the children is missing, the parents will be notified immediately, and—”

  “Oh, no,” Kanduu said.

  “What?”

  “I told you my mom’s overprotective. Once she hears that, she’ll be here straightaway. And she won’t care about any secret you earthlings are trying to keep, either. She’ll stomp into town and tear the place apart until she gets Kandeel back.”

  “That would probably not look real good on the front page of the Forest Grove Gazette,” the Blob said.

  “Thanks for the advice,” I said. Although, to be honest, keeping Grandma’s secret was not the first thing on my mind right at that moment. It was the safety of that little girl. She must be terrified. And what if someone else found her? Where would they take her? What would they do to her?

  I couldn’t let it happen.

  “Look, this isn’t helping. We need to think up a workable plan.”

  “Soon.” Kanduu nodded his little head. “Now.”

  Amy straightened up, pulled herself together a little bit. “Okay. Instead of talking about what won’t work, let’s talk about what will work. Anybody? Anything?”

  The crowd was silent for a moment, deep in thought.

  “Well…” Mrs. Crowzen finally said, “…if she saw us—the real us, that is, without our disguises—she would most likely feel comfortable enough to come out of hiding. Rejoin us.”

  Amy rolled her eyes at me in exasperation, but she patted Mrs. Crowzen on the back of her shell and nodded patiently. “Okay…it’s good to start a brainstorming session by throwing out any idea that pops up. But we don’t have much time. Does anybody have anything that we could actually do?”

  As I looked at the crowd of aliens, an image popped into my head: the faces of all the Tourists sitting around the kitchen table when the famous Evanblatt Snappyfalls came in with his entourage of broadcasting Mailboxes. Their awed expressions and goofy grins, the waving, the hushed excitement. The temporary abandonment of reason and common sense, basically.

  And just like that, I had a plan.

  I pointed at Mrs. Crowzen. “That’s actually really good. We can use it.”

  “Use what?” Amy said. “How can her idea help us? We can’t just stroll down Main Street with a parade of undisguised alien Tourists.”

  I shrugged. “Why not?”

  Strolling down Main Street with a parade of undisguised alien Tourists was the most surreal thing I had experienced since starting to work at the Intergalactic Bed & Breakfast.

  And that’s saying something.

  We weren’t downtown yet, but the residential neighborhood grew denser, and soon we were surrounded by houses. People peeked at us from behind curtains. Kids dropped their toys and stared wide-eyed from their front yards. The Emergency Canine Broadcast System went on full alert, with every dog on the block barking to announce our arrival.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” Amy whispered.

  I swallowed. “Me too.”

  Snarffle strained at his leash, eager to say hello to his furry earthbound cousins yapping away behind fences. I did not want to find out what would happen if one of those dogs gave Snarffle a butt-sniffing Earth greeting.

  “Make sure you keep a strong grip on his leash,” I told Cottage Cheese Head.

  I tugged on the red Radio Flyer wagon and surveyed the rest of our entourage. “And can you all tone down the jumps a little bit?” I called to the Arkamendian Air Painters. “Dancing is okay, but nobody on this planet can actually hang in the air that long. There, that’s better. But—come on, ladies—no rainbows. No, not even little ones. We discussed this.”

  Mrs. Crowzen’s big round shell glowed pink in the sunlight, and her claws clicked along the asphalt. As one of the most exotic-looking Tourists, she was drawing lots of stares and pointed fingers from the townsfolk. “I’ve never been out in the open like this on a primitive planet before,” she said, scanning the rows of surrounding houses. “I feel so exposed.”

  Well, it was pretty much your idea. “Don’t worry,” I said. “Just remember: this is all for Kandeel. As soon as we find her we’ll get everyone safely back inside. I promise.”

  The Pink Blob was the other Tourist getting the most attention as he slithered down the middle of the road. I sidled up to him. “Hey. Can you, like, move a little more awkwardly?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your movements, they’re too smooth. Fluid. Need to be a little more herky-jerky.”

  “Like this?” He sort of rocked his body stiffly side-to-side in a mocking imitation of a human lumbering around on two legs.

  “Perfect.” Well, not perfect. But better.

  The Blob smiled. “I’ll just pretend I’m Mr. Security Man Tate.” Then he scowled, pooched out his blobby belly, and made his movements even more rigid.

  Even Amy, nervous as she was, smiled at that one.

  I looked at the kids. They were all over the place, reveling in their new freedom. Jumping off the curbs, kicking pebbles, teasing and shoving each other. Just like Earth kids, basically. I didn’t give them any further instruction.

  The closer we got to downtown with our colorful parade, the more nervous I became. What we were doing went against all of my B&B training, betrayed every one of my instincts. I tried to breathe deeply, calm myself down, but my chest still grew tight, and it felt like I wasn’t getting quite enough oxygen.

  Man, I hope this works, I thought. At least I could take comfort in the fact that if it totally failed, Kandeel would set off the beacon, then Mrs. Crowzen would report her missing, and her mom would show up and storm into town. Either way, the end result would be the same: complete catastrophe.

  “Here they come,” Amy said, pointing. “You were right, David. Someone must have called from one of the houses.”

  A sheriff’s patrol vehicle and a black town car were creeping down the road. Headed right for us.

  More deep breaths. I could do this. We could do this.

  “All part of the plan,” I said.

  “I really hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “Yeah. You mentioned that.”

  The cars stopped a good twenty yards away from our otherworldly posse.

  “Okay, everybody, form up, just like we talked about.” The kids circled Mrs. Crowzen; the Air Painters huddled together; and Cottage Cheese Head, the Blob, and Snarffle positioned themselves in the lead. “And let me do the talking.” I stepped in front of the group, pulling the little red wagon behind me.

  Sheriff Tisdall—Tate’s former deputy from his law enforcement days—stepped out of the patrol vehicle, his ratlike features twisted into a sneer. Then the mayor of Forest Grove emerged from a town car. She was dressed in a conservative suit, all one drab color.

  “I’ll handle this,” she said to Tisdall. She took a couple of businesslike steps forward, stopped, and looked over the gaggle of aliens. Then she called over her shoulder, “But stay close.”

  Tisdall lifted a finger to the brim of his hat and sat on the hood of the patrol car, one foot on the bumper. He never took his squinty eyes off the Tourists, or his hand off his gun belt.

  “Hi, Mrs. Mayor.” I tried to sound as cheerful as possible. I extended my hand, but she didn’t take it. “We’re from the Intergalactic Bed and Breakfast.”

  “I gathered that.” She took her eyes off the aliens for a moment to study me. “And I remember you, as well. Caused quite a stir last summer, if memory serves. Apparently there were rumors concerning guests at your establishment. Guests that were perhaps…rather unusual?” She inclined her head toward the off-world visitors hanging out in the middle of the road.

  “Yeah.” I shook my head and forced out a chuckle. I hoped it didn’t sound as fake as it felt. “Some people actually thought we had space aliens staying at the
b-and-b. Real ones.” I raised my eyebrows and made a Small-town-people-say-the-darndest-things face. “Can you believe that?”

  The mayor let her eyes drift over the Tourists again. “Yes.” She took a small step backward. Then a bigger one. “Yes, I can.”

  People started creeping out of their homes, lining up along fences, watching the show. I could tell the mayor was aware of the growing crowd—her eyes flicked to the side, taking in the townsfolk with her peripheral vision—but she kept most of her attention on the aliens.

  She had been taken by surprise, obviously, and didn’t know what to do. Didn’t even know if she could trust her own eyes. This is what I was counting on.

  “Well”—I picked up the wagon’s handle again—“we’re heading into town now.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” the mayor said. Behind her, Tisdall slid off the car and straightened up, ready for action.

  “Why not?” I tried to sound as innocent as possible.

  “Well, your guests are…that is to say, I can’t exactly…” She gestured vaguely at the Tourists, a mixture of curiosity and fear on her face. “I need to vouch for the safety…that is, the well-being of every citizen.…”

  She was really struggling to spit out what she wanted to say. Situations like this were probably not covered in the Total Idiot’s Guide to Being a Small-Town Mayor. I was counting on that, too.

  “The safety of the citizens? Really?” I shook my head sadly. “Mrs. Mayor, you’re not saying that you actually believe those crazy outer space rumors.” I let that sink in for a few moments, made sure she fully realized that everyone would hear her answer. “Are you?”

  The mayor studied the Tourists, particularly the Pink Blob. He smiled and waved at her. She shuddered a little bit.

  “Are you saying these are not…I mean, that they’re just wearing…?”

  “Costumes. Of course. What—did you think I was walking into town with a bunch of real space creatures?” I inserted another fake chuckle here. “No disrespect intended, Mrs. Mayor, but when I say something like that, my mom tells me I’ve been watching too many movies.”