The Night Fire Rained Down
Part two of three
As we laid there on the ground breathing hard thanking God saving our lives from the demonic forces inside that house, we saw the girls from the local high school making their way to a bonfire. Being good red blooded boys in lust, we decided to follow them, watching their hips saw, hoping to catch just a glimpse of their panties. Cheerleaders were always a good way for a boy to get his quota of hard on for the week. There were lots of kids mulling about, the fire was huge as they roasted effigies of the team they planned on defeating the next night.
"Hey you guys," smiled Alison Bean, the wife of our 8th grade English teacher. Now this woman had a rack on her that could make a baby boy blush. She oozed sex from every pore and at 12 I was more than interested. Course I had no real idea what sex was, except for the Playboys I found in the sheriffs office one day while waiting for my pa to get back from a call.
"How is the trick or treating going," she purred capturing my attention as I watched her breasts rise and fall.
"Oh doing fine Mrs Bean," I managed to cough out, suddenly aware of how hard I was becoming and very grateful the pants I choose were way too big, thus hiding the protruding mass.
"So have you heard about what happened at that old mining shack out on county road 319?" She asked as she looked across the field checking out the goings on across the field.
"No what!" We all asked in unison.
"They say that the old hermit is back, the one in all those stories about glowing hands and mysterious lights." She smiled as our eyes became large. "You guys heard about the crash right? Back in '47." Mrs. Bean turned around for a minute to see some commotion behind her.
Now all of us kids had heard those stories, of glowing lights and aliens in the desert. These aliens that were stalking the desert were an advanced group, sent to Roswell in the ship that crashed years before. At least that is the story we heard.
"Wow!" Chuck gasped as he laid down looking up at the stars.
Yeah wow" agree Gary
Wow, was not the word, but then I was not thinking of aliens but her round firm ass in that tight Halloween black and orange striped dress. Teachers should not look that good to an adolescent boy, the hard on I had was now beginning to hurt like hell.
"Well you boys have a good Halloween," Mrs. Bean said as she began to walk away spying some kids ready to cause trouble. "No playing any tricks."
"Well well, what have we got here, the chicken boys."
I heard that vice behind me, Hank Whitmore, good old white trailer trash that vomited into Roswell thanks to the soap factory where his father worked. Hank was older than us and at 16 a veteran of the back seat of the sheriff's car.
"So you chicken shits going to see the old hermit?" He taunted us as he drank from a near empty bottle of beer. "You babies ready to see a real alien?"
"Get bent Hank," I sneered tired of him always harassing us.
"Whoa, Jimmy got some balls, get them for Christmas?" Hank spit some beer in my direction, dousing my face with the liquid.
"Fuck you Whitmore," as I cleaned off my face with a handkerchief.
"Can you?" Hank took a step in my direction, his breath smelled like a brewery. His fists were balled up; I knew a fight was ready to erupt.
"Have you seen the alien Hank?" asked Jeff, detracting the bully from me and beating the crap out of me.
"Yeah I been there, knocked on the old hermit's door myself." Hank puffed out his chest. "He was nothing but an old man. All the alien stuff is crap."
"Hey Whitmore is that a beer I see in your hand?" The loud booming voice belonged to the boy's councilor, Mr. Erron.
Hank dropped the beer and started running. We looked one to the other and also started running in the opposite direction. Why? I have no idea but once one kid runs we all do. Well when we finally stopped running and started laughing at ourselves when we noticed we were on the road to the hermit's cabin.
"Come on lets go," I said as I started in the direction of the hermit's cabin.
"Are you crazy Valenti?" Jeff stuttered. "A-L-I-E-N-S"
"There are no such things as aliens," replied Chuck as he took off his sheet. "Aliens are illogical." He knocked his glasses skewed as pulled the sheet off, then straightening them out to still look like Clark Kent under a sheet.
"No way." Gary shoved his hands in his pockets, "I am not going to where there are aliens."
"Well I am going, you babies stay here," I said as I headed down the street. "I want to see the glowing in the sky." I raised my hands, wiggling my fingers as I snickered my way down the street. Everyone in town new the hermit was nuts, he was just a guy that had gone bonkers during the war.
"I am going also. To prove aliens do not exist." Chuck stated as he picked up his bag of candy, stuffing his sheet inside as he started walking to catch up with me.
The other two kids just stood there, lingering apprehensively wondering if they should follow or run home and lock their doors while they crawled under their beds. Gary and Jeff watched as we walked out of sight before they screamed for us to wait for them as they started running to catch up.
So here we were a band of four adolescent kids, the bravest of the brave, to make the journey to see the aliens. In reality we were scared, even Chuck had a doubt that scattered across his brain ever so often, a brief moment when aliens were real. I knew they were faked but there was that crash my pa told me about. About the reporter from Texas that disappeared and then there was some military pilot who transported the aliens, but no one could get him to talk. I remember his name was like Carver or something.
A few really little kids hurried past us they headed to the next street to fill their bags, the parents lagging behind, already tired from the outing that night. Dressed as mini robots they looked like the children that the crashed spaceship was suppose to be carrying.
It did not take long before we hit that stretch of deserted dirt road, which sloped downward at a gradual incline; the ruts were deep as we hopped from one side of the ruts to another. Along the side of the road were steep gullies where during the day we kids tested out our bikes following the steep sides going up and down, challenging each other. This was also where last year they found a body of a young man killed and dumped. No one was every arrested, people said it was some hippie druggies from the university.
Finally off to the left, off to the left; merely a hundred feet or so off the main road there was the old shack, where strange lights were reported glowing at night. The shack was just that a one room, squat hut barely room to sleep let alone live in. It sat amidst discarded cars tires filled with stagnant water, even an old ratty sofa sitting on the so called porch.
We all stood there staring at the tinderbox, so different from the traditional homes we four had grown up in. We had only know our quaint little neighborhoods, white homes, picket fences, patios with BBQ grills lining the street with immaculate green lawns where our neighbors have been the same for years and years. This type of squalor was hard for any of us to understand.
"I wonder if anyone lives there?" asked Jeff, "I don't see any cars that aren't all rusted and broken down years ago."
"Hey, something moved by the window," Gary announced.
I looked at the window, partially covered with old newspaper; a very faint light did appear to glow out of the film that covered the glass. But then again it could be the moon reflecting back. Not wanting to incite the younger ones too much I decided to play down the possible light. "Gary, that window is covered up and filthy, I think your mind is playing tricks."
"Ya, maybe," Gary said nervously, "I think we outa get out of here."
I looked over the area logically, "If the old hermit does live here, he is probably off sleeping off a drunk. Even if he is awake, we could always outrun him, so no worries."
I am was sure the old man was harmless, most hobos were and I had seen several in jail for being drunk most nights. I coughed nervously, hoping the little ones would be wanting to run back to the lit streets still teeming with trick or treaters and try and find some Chunky candy bars.
"What cha younguns looking at?"
We all froze at the voice behind us; it was gruff with a nasal twang. I swallowed hard, I swear I could pee my pants right there and then. The three next to me were breathing hard. One look at Chuck on the side told me he was going to pass out. I had to get us out, then and there, or else I would be carrying him home over my shoulder.
"Nothing mister, we were just going home." I spoke to the air in front of me. "Sorry to have had bother you."
"Bother me?" He suddenly appeared in front of me, his eyes glowing in the night like a cat.
I jumped back at his sudden appearance. Gary behind me fell onto his butt, and began to well up in tears, fearing he was going to be stew that night. Jeff stood there motionless, not sure if he should run or get down and pray to God to send down a lightening bolt and save him. Chuck was turning whiter, ready to pass out.
"So looking for the aliens are we?"
The word aliens must had woken up Chuck before he suddenly stood upright and spoke out in a clear voice, a matter of fact statement. "There is no such thing as aliens."
"Is that what you think huh?" The old man raised one eyebrow as he looked up and down Chuck as if he could eat him for dinner.
"Yes it is illogical. Aliens could not live on earth."
I looked over at Chuck who had to be siphoning courage off of something illegal because that kid never showed an ounce of spinal fluid before now. Of course I chimed in with my 'yeah he is right', but something told me I was wrong, terribly wrong. Now I am a master of sci-fi silver screen, a self educated expert on all the aliens that had come to earth to ingest, kill, or colonize mankind. They were only illusions on film, latex creations of some nutty artist high on LSD. But right now I was ready to believe anything just to get away from that old man and what I feared, the truth.
"Come I will show you they are real," the old man laughed as he started up to the shack. "That is if you dare."
"Are we going in there?" asked Gary his hand trembling as he pointed a finger towards the shack.
"Yeah, it looks that way," I answered, mustering what courage I had left as I started walking to the shack following Chuck who was already at the door waiting for us.
Gary stared at the ground before he took a couple steps as Jeff caught his arm, "Gary ya all can go but I ain't."
"Awww come on Jeff can't leave you here by yourself," Gary insisted, "You have to come with us. Don't worry we will be safe. The old guy is just trying to scare us with some story or funny rock or something."
"Well if you're sure, but I don't wanna." Jeff kicked the ground as he walked with Gary up to the door. We all stood there, the door slightly ajar, hoping in some weird way we could disappear, repairing in our beds and this would be just a bad ass dream.
"Lets go in, he ain't gonna kill us or anything." I said as I opened the door wide and we got our first glimpse inside.
"We are dead," Jeff quipped from behind as he looked around, "we are so dead."
I nudged my head at Chuck as we both took the first steps inside, with Gary and Jeff on our heels. Once inside the door slammed behind us.
"Shit, I shouted at the sound, fuck we are dead.