It Came from the Sky Read online

  “That’s not what—”

  “Here’s some info: this is a relationship. Just because you’re too scared to call it—”

  “I’m not scared, I just—”

  “Stop. I’ve heard it a million times.”

  I stopped.

  I waited.

  Owen sighed. He reached up and adjusted his cap, even though it was still perfectly seated on his perfect hair. Everything about Owen was perfect. It still felt surreal that I was the one standing there, arguing about relationships with him.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, reaching over and taking his hand. “Can we talk about this later? When we’re not at work?”

  “Fine,” he agreed.

  I turned and moved toward the staff room again, already a few minutes late clocking in.

  “But, Gideon,” Owen said as I pushed open the door. “Aliens? Seriously?”

  I shrugged wryly and kept moving.

  I’d tell Owen about the aliens, or lack thereof. I trusted him that much, at least. I was less enthusiastic about the relationship talk. Discussing my feelings was far more daunting than explaining aliens in my backyard.

  Interlude

  Owen Campbell

  So yes, all right. Owen Campbell and I were dating. Or at least we were doing something very similar to dating. Something almost exactly like dating, except we never called it that. And also, we kept it a secret.

  If most people knew about the secretive nature of my and Owen’s relationship, they’d assume it was at his urging. That’s because Owen’s what many people would call “a catch.” I’m not sure you need me to directly state this, but I am not a catch.

  Yet I was the one keeping our relationship discreet, not Owen, and there were two reasons for it:

  1. I found it uncomfortable to discuss sappy, emotional matters.

  2. I didn’t appreciate feeling forced into anything.

  In a town the size of Lansburg, there weren’t many dating options for anyone, let alone someone who wasn’t heterosexual. Owen and I were the only two openly gay males at our school.

  And what do you suppose happened when there were only two gay males within a small population?

  Everyone tried to force us together.

  Long before I spoke a word to him, I had friends, siblings, parents, even a teacher once say, “Why don’t you and Owen Campbell date?”

  As if a person being gay was the only requirement for me to like him. As if it didn’t matter whether I was attracted to him, didn’t matter if he was an asshole, or if our personalities didn’t mesh.

  I was attracted to Owen. He wasn’t an asshole. And somehow, despite our differences, our personalities did mesh.

  But that was beside the point.

  For years, I resented Owen and scowled at the mere mention of his name. I constantly told people I’d rather spend my life alone than date someone I didn’t like simply because he was my only option.

  Imagine my distress when Owen and I started working together at Super Scoop and I found out I actually did like him.

  I couldn’t bear how smug everyone would be if they found out. There were few things I hated more than hearing “I told you so.” I refused to give anyone the satisfaction.

  Unfortunately, Owen didn’t see it my way.

  “You’re more worried about what people will say than about us,” he’d told me.

  “I’m not worried. I just don’t like being told what to do.”

  “Then we’ll keep this a secret so…what? So you can hold on to your pride? Are you really that stubborn?”

  Obviously, yes.

  “Remember what you told me about basketball?” I’d asked Owen. “Everyone’s always saying you should play basketball just because you’re tall. But you don’t even like basketball, and you’re sick of hearing it.”

  “Yeah…” Owen said. “Because I don’t like basketball.”

  While, admittedly, Owen made sense, I continued to insist the relationship be kept quiet. Cass knew, of course, and many other people suspected, but for the most part it remained between only Owen and me, which was how I liked it.

  But Owen’s patience was wearing thin, and I knew a choice waited in my near future.

  And okay, fine, fine. Maybe there was another, more personal reason I didn’t want to be open about the relationship…

  But that falls into the realm of “discussing sappy, emotional matters,” which, as I said, I really prefer to avoid.

  Event: Aliens Arrive (Cont.)

  I got so wrapped up in the relationship part of my and Owen’s conversation, it took me a while to return to the concerning fact that he’d heard Ishmael’s alien story.

  “There’s a blog post,” he said when I asked about it. “It’s going around.”

  “It’s ten in the morning. How much could it have gotten around?”

  He was right, though. As my shift at Super Scoop went on, I received three texts and one email from acquaintances asking about the article. I couldn’t imagine how many people were contacting Ishmael. He was probably having a grand time. He was probably scheduling appearances.

  Cass came into Super Scoop around lunchtime. Owen was taking his thirty-minute break, and I was alone at the counter.

  “So, you’re running with this alien thing?” Cass asked eagerly, while contemplating the different ice cream flavors.

  “I’m not running with anything. I’m waiting for the situation to die down.” I took a bite of an unappetizing myTality™ Energizer bar Mother had forced on me.

  “But, I mean, wowsers. Think of how amazing this could be,” Cass said. “How theatrical.”

  Speaking of theatrics, Cass was wearing cowboy boots and an embroidered western shirt.

  “Theatrics are best left for drama club,” I said.

  “That reminds me,” Cass replied, “would you rehearse with me tonight?”

  I hesitated. “Do I have to?”

  “Well, no, you don’t have to. But it’s would be nice,” she said.

  “It’s just that every time I help you rehearse, you yell at me for not doing it well enough.”

  “Only because you use that weird robot voice.”

  “That’s just my voice, Cass.”

  Cass nodded, allowing that I was probably right.

  “Besides,” I went on, “I thought you hated the play.” (The play in question was Hamelin!, a musical adaptation of the Pied Piper story.)

  “I hate that Owen got the role of Pied Piper while I’m relegated to love interest.”

  Said as if love interest was the worst thing anyone could be. It was a nice reminder of why Cass was my best friend.

  “Well, I’ll help if you really need me to. But I’m just going to read, not act.”

  “Forget it,” Cass said. “I’ll ask Arden. And I want a double scoop of salted caramel.”

  I hesitated before moving toward the ice cream case. “I didn’t realize you and Arden talked outside of school.”

  “Jeez Louise. We’ve been hanging out for a year. Obviously, we talk outside of school.”

  “Huh.” I handed Cass her cone and rang up the purchase.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Do you not want me to be friends with Arden or something?”

  “You can be friends with anyone you want.”

  Cass took a bite of ice cream and gave me a long look. “You totally need to find coping mechanisms for your jealousy issues.”

  “This isn’t a jealousy—”

  “Fine, your trust issues. Whatever you wanna call it.”

  Owen returned from his break then, and Cass dropped the subject, thankfully—the last thing I needed was them ganging up on me about my perceived character flaws. They made small talk about the play, and Cass was polite,
despite Owen having “stolen her role.”

  I took the opportunity to slip my phone from my pocket and check Frykowski’s website.

  There were sixty-two comments on the alien post.

  Blog Comments

  The following compilation is a selection of user comments from lightbringernews.com. Comments were originally posted on the article “They’re Here: Extraterrestrial Contact Made in Lansburg.”

  skywatcher51: I’m twenty miles south of Lansburg, but I’ve seen lights in the sky almost every night for the past month. Why isn’t anyone else talking about this?

  ThirdEyeFluoride: @skywatcher51 you think the government is going to let us talk about what’s been happening? you’re seriously delusional. i’m surprised this post hasn’t been removed yet.

  annab311a: I’ve lived in Lansburg my entire life, and I’ve never seen a UFO.

  jojoyourboat: DAE think the hofstats are weird anyway? lol. Im not even surprised this happened at that farm

  CIAyylmao2001: WHY IS EVERYONE TALKING ABOUT UFOS AND IGNORING WHAT REALLY MATTERS THAT 911 WAS A GOVERNMENT SET UP AND WERE ALL AT DANGER OF ANOTHER ATTACK AT ANY MOMENT

  THERE PLAYING WITH OUR LIVES, PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  devlmdemedoit: I just want to know, if aliens really are visiting, what do they want? Maybe we shouldn’t assume they’re going to attack us, guys.

  concerned_earthling: Anyone from the detroit area thinking of heading to Lansburg to see what’s going on for yourself? If so, I’m interested in carpooling.

  ZedzDedBaby: is everyone hear a fucking moron? their r no aliens you assholes get out of your moms basements and go actualy do some thing and maybe you wont be so worried about stupid shit like ufos

  cassiopeia-the-diva: @ZedzDedBaby What did punctuation and proper grammar ever do to you?

  MissusFry1962: This is a very well-written article. I will check for updates to see what happens next. Love, Mom.

  Interviews

  Subject #2, Magdalene (Maggie) Hofstadt: I was packing up after softball practice and Makayla came over and said she got a text from her cousin, who got a call from her friend, who wanted to know about the UFO at my house, and did I know anything about it? I didn’t know anything about it. But let’s just say, I was intrigued.

  Subject #3, Cassidy (Cass) Robinson: I died laughing when I read that ridiculous blog post. I knew Gideon wasn’t exactly going to be mellow yellow about it, though, which is why I didn’t mention it to anyone. I mean, anyone other than Arden, but I knew she wasn’t going to blab. And my parents. Oh, and Mr. Jeffries, who lives across the street. But he’s, like, eighty. I don’t even think he has internet. What was he gonna do?

  Subject #4, Victor Hofstadt (Father): I go to the gym after Maggie’s practice to squeeze in a quick workout. I’m not even there five minutes when one of the guys I train comes up and says, “So Vic, I hear your farm’s got an alien problem.” And right away, I know my kids are up to something.

  Subject #5, Owen Campbell: Gideon had been weird for days. I mean, he’s always weird, but he’d been even quieter than usual. I thought it was something I’d done. Then I got five messages in an hour, all from different friends, all saying something along the lines of, “What the hell is going on at your boyfriend’s farm?”

  Subject #6, Arden Byrd: I guess I heard about the aliens? I mean, no, I did. I saw people online talking about it, but I didn’t know exactly what they meant. I went to your…I mean to Gideon’s work to see if he was okay, but I saw through the window that Cass was already there, and I knew if I went in they’d do that thing where they stop talking when they see me. You used to do that a lot, you know.

  Subject #7, Jane Hofstadt (Mother): Yes, of course I heard the alien rumors. It was all over town by late afternoon. I was following up with potential myTality distributors and they kept asking what was happening on the farm. I told them I was quite sure there weren’t any aliens. But the thought of aliens, or anything unfamiliar, can be anxiety inducing! So I made sure to provide everyone with samples of myTality Soothe.

  Event: The Hoax is Born

  Date: Sept. 9 (Sat.)

  And now we’ve arrived at a pivotal moment. You know about the events leading up to it: the explosion, and the cover-up, and the blog post that put aliens on everyone’s minds. Maybe then, you’ll agree the next stage wasn’t such a leap.

  It was Saturday night, late. Normally, Ishmael would be out with his many friends or acquaintances or girlfriends. But he’d stayed home to avoid a girl who had a crush on him, because he was too cowardly to outright reject her.

  I was in Ishmael’s basement bedroom, perched on a small, metal storage locker. There was a couch in the room that Ishmael had dragged home from a mystery location, but who knew what germs had invaded the fabric? The cold, metal block seemed like a safer seating option.

  Ishmael lounged on his bed, drinking a myTality™ Shake It Up, which was meant to deliver vitamins and protein through what was, essentially, a flavorless milkshake.

  “I don’t know how you drink those things,” I said.

  He shrugged, downed the rest of the shake in one gulp, and tossed the can into a trash basket already overflowing with soda bottles and fast-food wrappers. “I know you didn’t come down here to talk about myTality.”

  “Of course not.” I’d never venture into his lair without very good reason. “I want to discuss aliens.”

  After a slight hesitation, Ishmael said, “I guess you’re still pretty mad?”

  “Mad doesn’t quite cover the complex range of emotions I’ve experienced the past few days.”

  “Don’t you think it’s kind of cool, though? People think aliens were here!”

  “Ishmael,” I said calmly. “No one thinks aliens were here.”

  “Sure they do.”

  “Even assuming that extraterrestrial life exists, there’s absolutely no evidence aliens have visited Earth, and considering the Fermi Paradox—”

  “But see,” he interrupted. “No one knows that astrology stuff except you.” (Astrology: a pseudoscience claiming that the orientation of the cosmos controls a person’s personality and life path. Not to be confused with astronomy, an actual science studying celestial objects.)

  I rubbed my eyes and tried to remain composed.

  “Gideon?” Ishmael said after a moment.

  “Yes?”

  He licked his lips and shifted his weight. “I had this idea. I know you want to let the alien fuss die down…but what if we don’t?”

  I stared at my brother. “Well yes, Ishmael, that’s technically an idea.”

  “It’s just, have you imagined what it would be like if aliens really came to Lansburg?”

  “But they didn’t.”

  “Yeah, but we could make it happen.”

  “Ishmael, we can’t make nonexistent aliens…” I stopped. “Wait. You’re talking about a practical joke, aren’t you?”

  “Let’s call it a hoax.”

  I gazed at my brother, dumbfounded. “Why would I ever agree to that?”

  “Just hear me out,” he pleaded.

  If I didn’t, he’d harass me until I caved. So I said, “Fine. But make it fast. The international space station is passing overhead tonight and I want to get my telescope set up.”

  Ishmael grinned and got to his feet, eager to give his pitch. He’d probably gotten sales tips from Mother. “Okay, well, I didn’t exactly plan for any of this. But you have to admit, it’s kind of amazing. Aliens in Lansburg! All because of one small explosion.”

  “Not that small.”

  He ignored me. “I’ve been spending all this time trying to think up a senior prank, and I have nothing. Like, I’ve done so many pranks at school that people are desensitized to them. So my senior prank has to be super epic, something the school—no, the town—will remember forever. T
hen this fell into my lap.”

  “How convenient.”

  “An alien hoax! Yeah, it’s been done before, but not by us. You’re smart and know about science. And I know how to pull off a prank. Is there anyone in the world who could do this better?” Ishmael plowed ahead before I could respond. “And I know you’re thinking this is all about me and wondering what’s in it for you. But doesn’t part of you want to know if you can outsmart everyone?”

  I opened my mouth to tell Ishmael an alien hoax was the worst idea I’d ever heard. But the words didn’t come.

  It was a terrible idea. We’d definitely get caught.

  (Would we, though? Wasn’t I clever enough to prevent that?)

  And Ishmael was too unpredictable. There’d be no way to control him.

  (Except when it came to pranks, he was surprisingly focused.)

  And besides, what was the point of the hoax?

  (To see if I could.)

  (To prove myself.)

  (For the glory.)

  Something bubbled inside me, something that should have concerned me: excitement. It was the feeling I got before an experiment, when ideas began rushing at me.

  Aliens, I thought. UFOs. Lights in the sky. Abductions. My brain began making checklists, compiling data. My thoughts sped up faster and faster until I had no control over them.

  Could I pull it off?

  Could I convince our town aliens were real?

  Did I have the right knowledge and skill set to create a hoax unlike anything the world had seen before?

  I took a deep breath and tried to reel myself in.

  “You’re forgetting something very important,” I said. “No one who knows you will take this seriously.”

  Immediately, Ishmael began shaking his head. “But dude, that’s where you come in. Who would believe you’d get involved in a prank?”

  He had a point. I was known to be the voice of logic and reason. If I said Ishmael’s claims were legitimate, certainly people would take notice.

  This might really be possible. If I were to—