Errant Shot

by William Petersen

  ***

  Tim's phone was ringing... and beeping... and vibrating. He had ordered Chinese delivery and thrown a little private party to celebrate his new find, culminating in his passing out on the couch with the television on. He reached out towards the coffee table, without opening his eyes, and located his phone by touch, then fumbled around with it until it was silenced. His mouth was dry, and the light streaming in the through the windows was brutal. He managed to pry his eyes open, one at a time, and started to look through the notifications on the phone.

  Over a dozen missed calls from the university. Text messages from the professor and two of his assistants. His voice mailbox was full. He called the extension for the geology department and was quickly routed to the professor. “My God man! What have you been doing?” he demanded of Tim.

  “Sleeping one off... what's so important?” Tim asked, rubbing his forehead.

  “We found something,” Winston said, and a long silence passed.

  “What do you mean, something?” Tim inquired.

  “Something inside the meteorite. Something that is not rock or metal,” followed by another long silence. The professor then continued with: “It looks like fossilized microbes, and yes, I did say microbes, with an 's'. We've found hundreds already, and preliminary tests from other labs are finding the same thing. I think this is the real deal Tim... I think we have evidence of life outside of our planet.”

  Tim's mouth was open, and due to the dryness, his lips became stuck to his gums. He had to put the phone down and physically free them with his fingers.

  “Tim, this might just be the most important find in the history of mankind, which makes this thing one of the most valuable objects on the planet. It's going to be hard for you to stay out of the spotlight now buddy.”

  “Wait, what about ALH-84001 and all the hype around it, couldn't this be just like that?” Tim asked.

  “No, no. This is very different. Like I said, not only are we finding them all throughout the interior, but we also have a clear picture of them under the electron microscope and they are something else... and, they seem to be reacting in the presence of air,” the professor told him.

  Tim's mind was swimming. He wasn't ready for this. He just wanted to make some extra money and take a fishing trip, not become the man that found evidence of life on other worlds.

  “The university has empowered me to offer a deposit in exchange for the exclusive rights to house it and disperse samples. They are ready to transfer two hundred and fifty-thousand dollars to your account, just as soon as you confirm your agreement. And keep in mind, Tim... that's just the deposit. The email has already been sent, just respond with your electronic signature, and it's a done deal,” the professor informed him.

  “Whoa...” was all Tim could get out.

  “Yeah, I told you this one was special. Well, you're rich now, so what are you going to do first, Mr. Money Bags?” Winston asked.

  “I'm going fishing. Oh yeah, and I'm turning my phone off,” Tim said.

  “Good for you buddy. Call me when you get back, and we'll go over the details,” the professor replied.

  “You know I will,” Tim said. He knew that the 'details' would be who wanted a piece of the meteorite and how much they were willing to pay for it. The professor took care of everything for him and connected him with buyers both public and private, as he had for several years now. In exchange, the professor was essentially in control of what the academic and scientific institutions would get. All Tim had to do was drop off his finds, and within a few weeks he would have several offers.

  Tim pulled into his apartment's parking lot, and his new found confidence took him right passed his own door and down the hallway to the last door on the left, Tina's apartment. Tina was an attractive, recently divorced mother of three, but her outlook on society and social interactions was the nearly the same as his own. Neither liked bar scenes or large gatherings, and both preferred to stay close to home and spend a lot of time alone.

  Tina had gone through a nasty divorce, and much of it was played out right in the very hallway through which he now strode. She was thirty-six with a slim frame but looked to be ten years younger, and when she wore makeup, she was carded for drinks every time. They had known each other for several years, though they only interacted on a friendly level, neither really interested in dating, just enjoying the lack of pressure in the company of the other.

  Tim knocked on the door and waited patiently as he listened to sounds of her rushing around to pick up and make herself presentable. The door swung open, and Tina was straightening her hair with one hand and trying to hide the empty cups she had picked up before opening the door. “Hey there!” she said, smiling brightly.

  “Hey, I've got a strange question for you,” Tim said, returning her smile.

  “I'll probably have a strange answer then,” she countered.

  “Why don't you take off work and go on a little vacation with me?” he asked, putting on his best serious face.

  “What?” she asked frowning, “Are you nuts? I have a job.”

  “I know, but I bet they can get someone to cover a few shifts for you. How long have you worked there without taking a day off?” he asked her.

  “That's not the point...” she began, but Tim held his hand up to cut her off.

  “You're kids are with their dad, you work at a restaurant for tips, and I'll pay you double what you make there to go on vacation with me for two weeks,” Tim disclosed.

  Tina tilted her head slightly to the side, as she did when she didn't understand something, Tim found it endearing. “What, do you think I'm some kind of hooker now?” she asked, only half joking.

  “No, come on. Nothing different than what we do here, we'll just do it in Florida. No strings attached and nothing funny, I swear,” he reassured her.

  “No way man, you must be drunk,” she began, “I can't just take off for two weeks. What if the kids want to come home? What if they call me into work?”

  “What if the space station crashes on your roof?” Tim cut in, smiling, “What if flies carried forty-fives? I bet frogs wouldn't mess with them...” and both erupted into laughter, “Well, think about it anyway, I'm packing up tonight and heading out in the morning. I'm going to take my time and drive, so I can stop and check out some places on the way,” he said, as he handed her a worn and faded brochure of the fishing lodge.

  Tim turned and went back to his own door, taking one last look back down the hall before stepping through, and smiled as he saw her forearms and hands poking out from the door frame, the brochure now open. Tim checked his email and confirmed the deposit from the university. Then he began gathering things he would need but stopped after a few minutes, realizing that he didn't need to gather or pack anything, he could now buy whatever he needed. He reveled in the fact and decided to finish off the previous night's Chinese food and beer while watching fishing shows until he fell asleep.

  Tim watched his dream-self wade into a shallow, stagnant-looking pond, fishing pole in hand and moving slowly. He was apparently trying not to disturb his quarry, of which he was still unsure. As he began to cast his line in the dream, his body started to shutter and he stumbled, dropping his pole, he reached out for a low-hanging tree branch for support. His left leg tingled and quivered, then went limp beneath him. As his head slipped under the surface in the dream, he saw the cause of his problems. A huge, electric eel was wrapped around his leg and electrocuting him. Just as his lungs began to burn and expel their stored air, he woke up.

  Sweating and breathing heavily, he clumsily clawed himself into a sitting position, reached down to get the vibrating phone out of his front pants pocket and discovered that the entire left side of his body tingled with pins and needles, just as it had been in the dream. “Yeah?” he blurted, without looking at the phone.

  “You better not be screwing around man...” it was Tina's voice.

  Tim pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the displa
y. It was just after one in the morning, She must have been up drinking too, he mentally reasoned.

  “I've always wanted to go to Florida, and I love to fish, so if you've got anything other than those two things in mind, you'd better tell me now,” Tina stated flatly. Her slightly slurred words fell into his ears and left little ripples in his mind like rain drops on a pond. He closed his eyes again, picturing her in the neon-green bikini of which he had become quiet fond, and was quickly brought back to reality with Tina's reinforcement of her expectations, “I'm not kidding man...” she finished.

  Tim couldn't contain his smile, “No funny business, I promise. I could stay right here and try to get you into the sack. Why do I need to drive halfway across the country for that? I could get a twelve-pack and a bottle of tequila, that would be cheaper and faster,” he added.

  “Shut up. I'm serious, and I don't even like tequila,” she fired back.

  “Really, we're just going fishing and partying for two weeks. Turn our phones off and do whatever we want, as long as I make it to Bonita Springs by Friday, it's all good,” he told her.

  “Alright then, but just so you know, you are on double-secret probation here buddy. One slip-up, and I'll kick you right where the sun don't shine,” she told him sternly.

  “I know you will,” he said, laughing a little. “Oh, and pack light, very light. We can get whatever we need on the way,” Tim informed her.

  “Did you like, win the lottery or something?” Tina asked.

  “Something like that.”

  “Wow...” was her only reply.

  “Yeah, I'll tell you all about it tomorrow.” She hung up and Tim smiled, closed his eyes and slumped back down onto the couch for some more sleep.