They both burst out laughing.
“You hear that?”
“What a notion!”
“Hats made of tinfoil. Ha!”
The woman shook her head, wiping laugh tears out of her eyes. “Tinfoil. You believe that?”
The man looked around the park to make sure that no one was watching, then reached up and peeled off that horrible toupee. He flipped it over and pointed to the metallic lining that covered the entire inside of the wig. Leaning forward and using that conspiratorial tone again, he said, “It’s all titanium these days. We found out a long time ago that mere tinfoil lets out over fifty percent of the thought rays.” He fixed the toupee back on his head. “I wear my protection at all times.”
“Ri-i-ight. Good thinking.” Yikes. I never imagined that their human outfits would be even freakier than their alien costumes.
“And it’s not actually the CIA, of course,” Sue chimed in. “The government organizations with the real power don’t exactly advertise their existence to the general public.” She winked again. “But then you know all about keeping things secret from the public, don’t you?”
“Not really.” I started to back away. “Look, this is all some kind of big misunderstanding. We don’t actually—”
They both jumped out of their seats.
“Wait!”
“Don’t go!”
“Hear us out. We owe you an apology.”
I did not want these two showing up at the B&B again. Maybe if I stayed and heard them out, they would just leave. “I promised ten minutes. You have eight left.”
“Okay.” The man cleared his throat. “We realize now that we should not have stopped by unannounced.”
“Or in costume,” Sue said.
“Or uninvited,” I added. “Or at all.”
“But we wanted to check out your place for ourselves,” Joe hurried on, “and thought we’d have to do it surreptitious-like. From the inside. Trust me—we understand that you have a vested interest in keeping your operation a secret from the general public.”
“Not really.” I tried to keep my expression and voice as neutral as possible. It was crucial to maintain a good poker face. “We’re running a bed-and-breakfast. It wouldn’t exactly be good for business to keep that a secret from potential customers.”
Sue gave me a knowing smile. “Not your real customers, anyway.”
I did not like where this was going at all. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Let’s just put all our cards on the table,” Joe said, spreading his arms wide. “We happen to know that you are harboring genuine space aliens at your establishment.”
And there it was.
I had no choice but to forge ahead with the big bluff. “Seriously? Just because we have an outer-space theme and do alien-costume events, like the commercial yesterday?” I forced out a fake chuckle. “What, do you think that Star Wars is a documentary? Or maybe that The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy is a real travel handbook?”
Sue reached out and patted me on the arm. “You don’t have to hide anything from us. We told you already, we’re on your side.”
Joe Maxwell nodded. “And trust us, we don’t want the government finding out about your operation any more than you do.”
Sue tsk-tsked. “They would muck everything up something awful. Just look at the mess they made down at Area Fifty-one in Roswell. Why, that could’ve been the most miraculous discovery of the last century, and they go and—”
“Again, no offense, but do you two believe in everything? Goblins and werewolves and vampires? All of it?”
“Of course not!” They both scoffed and made disgusted faces.
Sue sniffed. “We are perfectly capable of distinguishing between fantasy and reality.”
“That’s right,” Joe Maxwell said. “Ghosts and monsters and all the rest—those are the inventions of people, meant to frighten or amuse. Pure fiction. We have no interest in such things.”
“Plus, they’re just downright icky.” Sue shuddered. “We don’t want anything to do with those kinds of scary stories.”
“But aliens,” Joe Maxwell said, “are a different matter entirely. Life on other planets is a mathematical inevitability. Why, the Kepler telescope has already found hundreds of Earth-like planets, and that project is just getting started.”
“And think about it,” Sue said. “There are over two thousand billion billion suns in the known universe. So if you think there’s only a one-in-a-billion chance that another planet could sustain life, then that still means there are billions of planets with aliens on them out there!”
“And if you take into consideration—”
“I get it.” I held up my hands for silence. I had heard all of this stuff before, from Amy. “Let’s say I totally agree with you, okay? There is a one hundred percent chance of alien life out there. Granted. But now it’s your turn to trust me.” They leaned forward, eyes wide, eager for the big reveal. “There’s a zero percent chance that any of those aliens are sleeping at the Intergalactic Bed and Breakfast.”
They sighed and their faces fell. “We’re very disappointed to hear you say that, young man.”
“Not nearly as disappointed as I am to have to get up early and come all the way down here to say it.” I turned and started walking away. “Enjoy the rest of your time in Forest Grove.”
“You really don’t want to leave,” Sue said.
I waved good-bye without turning around.
“I hope you have room at the b-and-b for around ten thousand people or so,” Joe Maxwell called.
I stopped. This time I did turn around. “Why do you say that?”
Joe lifted his palms in a gesture that looked almost apologetic. “Because that’s about how many people we can summon to town this weekend to have a look at your place.”
Sue winked yet again. “For starters.”
I couldn’t afford to just leave and pray that it was only a bluff.
“Do you mind telling me why you’re so convinced that E.T. is a regular customer of ours?” I walked back to the picnic table.
Sue’s cheeks bunched up as she beamed at me again. “That’s more like it.” She reached under the bench and used two hands to hoist up a big photo album, crammed to bursting with papers and photos. Then she cheerfully patted the seat next to her. “We really don’t want to do this the hard way, you know. We’d much rather have you on board with us.”
I sighed and slumped down on the bench. As Sue flipped through the pages of the album, I caught glimpses of the contents—tabloid sketches of big-eyed, long-necked gray aliens, a flyer announcing the Annual SPUFOOS Mountaintop Lookout Party—until Sue got to the middle and slowed down.
“Ah, yes, here we are.”
She stopped on a clipping of the front page of the Forest Grove Gazette (complete with a picture of some aliens I had taken on a camping trip last summer and then kinda, you know, lost control of). The next was a Newsweek article about the time when the nearby Nooksack River had frozen solid in an instant (okay, something else I had done—completely by accident, I promise—with the doomsday device belonging to an alien criminal mastermind). The next was from the Gazette again, this article detailing the mysterious depressions in the brick courtyard of the town commons that had appeared overnight without explanation (from when a huge ship of alien slave traders landed there because I had failed to convince everyone that our transporter repairman was an evil genius).
It was like a Greatest Hits collection of all my worst mistakes.
Joe Maxwell tapped the photo album. “We’ve had our eye on this place for several years now.”
Sue nodded. “There were always little red flags popping up, for those who know how and where to look.”
“And we’re always looking, aren’t we, sweetie?”
The two shared an affectionate glance. “It’s been our life’s work.” When they reached out to hold hands—I swear I’m not making this up—their fingers were in the shap
e of the Star Trek “Live Long and Prosper” sign.
Kooks in love. Very heartwarming.
Joe Maxwell gestured to the photo album with his free hand. “But it wasn’t until last summer that the suspicious activity really started ratcheting up.”
Right when I started working for Grandma. What a coincidence.
“And when the most unusual things started happening this summer, we knew that we had finally found what we’d been looking for all these years.” Sue sighed happily. “It was time for a long-overdue trip to Forest Grove.”
“And you certainly haven’t disappointed us.” Joe continued to flip through the album, displaying newly pasted aerial shots of the alien kids playing in Grandma’s backyard. Those must have been taken from that hot air balloon.
But there were other things in there, too. Like a Forest Grove Fourth of July fireworks-show flyer with rough sketches of Frog Face and some other aliens. Sue and Joe must have made that after Amy and I took away their camera. And one of our fake posters advertising an upcoming alien masquerade ball.
As I saw how intently they were gazing at that stuff, I realized that maybe it could also give me a way out. “Look, is that what you want? Things connected to the b-and-b? For you and all of the friends you claim are going to be showing up?”
“Spoofies,” Joe said.
“What?”
“The loyal followers of SPUFOOS. We call them Spoofies.”
“Of course you do.” It was hard to keep a straight face. How much weirder were these two going to get? “So would you like some souvenirs for them?”
Sue sniffed and put her arms over the album protectively. “These are important historical documents, not souvenirs.”
“Whatever. But is that what you want? Stuff? Because I can get you some stuff.” The Tourists were always leaving little things behind. Spare change that came in the form of glowing cubes, or pieces of strange jewelry, or whatever. Harmless stuff. And it’s not like anyone would believe any Spoofies if they claimed to be in possession of genuine alien artifacts.
If that’s what got them all excited—and if it meant they would just go away—I’d gladly hand over a sack full of that junk.
Joe Maxwell shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid we’re not interested in trinkets, young man.”
I sighed. “Then what are you interested in?”
They exchanged a meaningful glance, then looked at me again. “Okay. Here it is.” Joe Maxwell took a deep breath. “We’d like to set up SPUFOOS headquarters at the Intergalactic Bed and Breakfast.”
My facial expression must have perfectly matched what I was thinking, because they rushed on before I could say no.
“Let us explain! It would be the perfect setup.”
“For everyone involved.”
“It would be the ideal marriage of form and function.”
I made a wrap-it-up gesture. “Two minutes left.”
“It has been our life’s mission to document alien visitations to Earth.” Joe Maxwell slipped off the bench and hunkered down in front of me, practically begging on his knees. “What better place to do that than at a vacation hot spot for extraterrestrial travelers?”
“We’ve had to make do with mostly unreliable eyewitness accounts from all over the world.” Sue put her hands on her husband’s shoulders and leaned over him eagerly—they almost looked like a two-headed alien sharing the same body. They were certainly sharing the same crazy notions. “Being able to base our operations from the Grand Central Station of off-world depots would be the culmination of all our hopes and dreams.”
“We could finally become humanity’s ambassadors to the rest of the universe.” Their eyes were filled with such longing that I almost felt bad for them.
But not really.
“Sorry. Time’s up.”
They didn’t jump up this time or come toward me as I backed away. They just looked at me sadly.
“We really don’t want to do this the hard way,” Joe Maxwell said.
“It’s not our style.” Sue sighed. “But we will if we have to.”
I stopped backing up. “Look, you seem like nice people. I didn’t want to have to come right out and say this, but one of our employees was sheriff in this town for over twenty years. He can have a restraining order filed against you just like that.” I snapped my fingers. “And then if you—or any of your friends—get within a hundred yards of the b-and-b, I’m afraid you’ll be arrested.”
They shared another meaningful look. “Oh, yes? And just where is this officer of the law?” Joe Maxwell said.
Uh-oh. Not a good question.
“We haven’t seen him around here in a few days. It’s almost as if he’s disappeared into thin air.”
“Or into the atmosphere, you might say.”
“You know”—Sue cupped her chin in her hand, making a show of mulling something over—“he’s been missing almost as long as the proprietor of the business, hasn’t he?”
Joe Maxwell gave an exaggerated nod. “Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen either one of them in days. In fact, it almost seems like the entire operation is being run by a couple of kids.”
“Hmmmmm.” When Sue smiled this time, her expression looked more hungry than happy. “That’s certainly good timing for us, isn’t it?”
I swallowed. And stood there. What could I say?
They let me stew in the uncomfortable silence for a few moments before Joe said, “Well, what about it? Care to give us a little tour of the bed and breakfast?”
“Give me some time to think about it,” I blurted out. Stalling: the last resort when you don’t have a plan. Maybe Amy would be able to help me figure something out.
Joe and Sue looked at each other, then back at me. “We’ve been waiting our entire lives, so I guess we could give it the rest of the day.” Sue checked her watch. “We’ll meet you right back here at nine o’clock this evening.”
Joe cleared his throat. “But after that, I’m afraid we’ll be getting into that house, one way or another.”
“With all of our friends,” Sue added.
I raced to the library before heading back to the B&B. Although Grandma’s house was the only place on Earth with interstellar transporters, it still didn’t have Internet access. I wanted a look at that Web site before I talked to Amy.
It was worse than I thought.
The home page was no-frills, just an outer space background with links to UFO-related updates and events. But it was easy to tell that people regularly visited the site. A lot of people.
On the UFO Reports page, I could see at a glance that several sightings were posted every day, and hundreds of official reports were filed every month. And not only from every state in the union, but also just about every country in the world. India, South Korea, New Zealand, even someplace called Azerbaijan.
Some of the descriptions were really specific. Three rotating, multicolored lights floating just above the horizon for 45 minutes, moving in a southeasterly direction. Others were not. A big fireball shot right over campus! But every day, tons of people were making reports.
And these were people who liked to travel and congregate. A glance at the post titles revealed that this month alone you could visit the UFO International Congress in Nevada, the Mutual UFO Network Symposium in Colorado, the Little Green Man Festival in Kentucky, or the UFO Festival in Oregon.
And just how many people might travel all the way to little Forest Grove?
Unfortunately, it wasn’t hard to find the answer.
I clicked on the Breaking News! banner:
Biggest Discovery Ever?
Dear Friends, Followers, and Fellow Believers:
As you know if you visit this site regularly, we do our best to weed out the hoaxes and the pranksters to bring you the most valid and up-to-date official reports of UFO sightings. It is not now—nor has it ever been—our practice to indulge in idle speculation or baseless gossip. So we hope that our decades of work on maintaining this site
will lend credibility and weight to this amazing announcement. We have very good reason to believe that we have found the mother lode. The UFO seekers’ promised land. The alien lovers’ nirvana. Whatever you want to call it, this will make Roswell look like a minor historical footnote. Currently, our investigation is under way, but if things turn out as we think they will, we will soon be ready to announce a location where aliens have been visiting Earth on a regular basis for several years.
Yes, you read that right.
Please check back with this site often. Once the official announcement is made, we would like people to join us in visiting this amazing place. We think it would be the perfect new setting for SPUFOOS headquarters, and we may need your help in making this happen.
Stay tuned. Until then, keep watching the sky!
—Joe and Sue Maxwell
But the article wasn’t even the worst part. That honor went to the comments section:
Keep up the great work. You know we’ll be there!
—Spoofies-for-life Bill and Wilma Hoople, Astoria, Oregon
The RV’s all packed up and ready to go. Just give us the coordinates.
—Randy and Megan Anderson, Duluth, Minnesota
At your service, as always.
—The UFO Society of Burley, Idaho
Finally! Can’t wait to visit the site with you! (And congratulations!!!!!)
—Your humble servants Doug and Lisa Byrnes, Riverside, Iowa (Proud Future Birthplace of Captain James Tiberius Kirk)
The comments went on and on. I didn’t read them all, but a quick scan confirmed that everyone seemed pretty eager to visit this amazing new place.
I did not doubt that Joe and Sue Maxwell, as loopy as they were, could bring a whole heck of a lot of people to the front door of the Intergalactic Bed & Breakfast. I printed out the article and a few pages of comments, then ran back to Grandma’s place to talk to Amy. We had to come up with a plan. Fast.
Aliens in Disguise Page 13
