It Came from the Sky Read online

  And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. There was the Piltdown Man; the Cottingley Fairies; the Dihydrogen Monoxide incident; the Sitka, Alaska, volcano eruption… Century upon century of hoaxes.

  What makes some people take pleasure from tricking others? Is it a cry for attention? A desperate need to outsmart their peers? An attempt to achieve glory?

  I won’t deny that I felt kinship with past hoaxers. But I judged them too. I saw where they’d been sloppy, where they’d missed opportunities to take their hoaxes to the next level.

  I wouldn’t make their mistakes.

  Event: First-Period Performance

  Date: Sept. 11 (Mon.)

  Since Ishmael was a year older than me, we shouldn’t have had classes together. But he’d failed health class the previous year, so we shared first period.

  It mystified me that he managed to fail health class. The only thing preventing the class from being a complete breeze was that once a year Father brushed off his unused degree (See: exercise science.) and gave a guest lecture on fitness. Just the thought of it was humiliating.

  Cass was also in the class. Usually she actively participated, answering questions before they were fully out of Mrs. Novak’s mouth. Not because Cass had a great love of the subject material, but because she had a great love of talking. Talking about anything, at any time—from the zany contestants she’d seen the night before on Pitch, Please to whether Isaac Newton or Gottfried Leibniz was the true inventor of calculus.

  I knew people would find it odd when Cass was uncharacteristically quiet on Monday morning. And when she fell asleep in the middle of Mrs. Novak’s lecture on the updated food pyramid, everyone noticed.

  Cass slumped over her desk, face resting on her forearms, fuzzy cat-ear headband pushed askew—Cass had chosen a black, feline-like outfit for school that day. She breathed deeply and wheezed with each exhale. I was surprised she wasn’t drooling.

  “Robinson,” Mrs. Novak said in her usual gruff way.

  Cass remained asleep.

  It was go time. I slid my phone partially from my pocket and opened the app I’d downloaded for gathering audio—I was committed to recording every detail of the hoax. For science.

  Mrs. Novak repeated herself, louder. Still no response.

  She glanced at me. “Hofstadt, wake your friend.”

  I leaned across the aisle and gently shook Cass’s shoulder. “Hey, Cass?”

  She blinked and groggily raised her head, looking around with confusion.

  “Wha—” She took in our teacher’s frown and crossed arms. “Was I asleep?”

  “I’m glad you find my class so stimulating,” Mrs. Novak said.

  Cass glanced around the room, mortified. “I’m so sorry. This has never happened to me before.”

  “Stayed up too late partying, huh?” The stern look remained on Mrs. Novak’s face, but I saw a twinkle in her eye.

  “I wasn’t partying, really,” Cass insisted. “I just…”

  She bit her lip. All eyes were on her. A few people smiled, like they were expecting a punch line.

  “I…” Cass tried again. “I saw something bizarro last night, okay? Lights in the sky. And there was a noise… Whatever. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Wait,” Justin Howard said. “Did you see the Hofstadts’ aliens?”

  Cass rolled her eyes. “There’s no such thing as aliens. I saw some lights, that’s all. It was weird, and yeah, I stayed up super late watching them. But it wasn’t aliens.”

  People shot concerned glances at one another. Eyebrows raised. Whispered conversation began.

  “What did the lights look like?” Sara Kang asked, leaning forward in her chair.

  Cass took a deep breath. Then she began her monologue, a detailed description of the lights based on information I’d gathered from accounts of similar sightings.

  It was both thrilling and unsettling to see people hang on her every word. I glanced at Mrs. Novak and even she, someone I’d pegged as a skeptic, listened intently and made no attempt to get back to the food pyramid.

  We can do this, I realized. We can make this hoax work.

  Step three of the scientific method was form a hypothesis.

  Maybe something like: when presented with seemingly factual evidence, typically rational individuals will become convinced of the highly improbable, despite it going against their greater instincts and knowledge.

  “This is bullshit,” Sofia Russo said suddenly, flipping her hair over her shoulder. (Sofia Russo: Cass’s longtime theater rival. Their relationship mystified me—they thrived off competing with each other and, though their conversations were fraught with animosity, still somehow maintained a friendship.)

  “Language,” Mrs. Novak reminded her.

  “Isn’t it weird that the UFOs just happened to appear to someone who’s friends with the Hofstadts? I haven’t seen any lights.”

  “Zeus knows, the whole world would’ve heard about it if you had,” Cass said, smiling sweetly at Sofia.

  Sofia smirked. “Maybe because, unlike some people, I’ve mastered speaking from my diaphragm.”

  Before Cass could voice a comeback, other people began asking questions about the lights. Some took her story at face value while others were hesitant. Only Sofia showed outright disbelief. Admittedly, it made me gain respect for her.

  As I listened to my classmates debate the possibility of alien life, I considered what a strange predicament I’d put myself in. If the hoax succeeded and people bought into the narrative Ishmael and I were spinning, I’d lose respect for them. But if they didn’t believe it and the hoax failed, I’d lose respect for myself.

  The Next Four Days

  Even if you plan something meticulously, you can be startled by just how easily you achieve results. Somehow, the situation in Lansburg became very strange very quickly.

  A brief recap of events following Cass’s confession:

  1. Cass’s tale of extraterrestrial lights spreads through Irving High School.

  2. According to Maggie, the middle school begins buzzing about aliens as well.

  3. Adam Frykowski writes a follow-up article about UFO activity in Lansburg, titled “‘I Saw a Fire in the Sky’: A Chronology of UFO Sightings in the Greater Pittsburgh Area.” While the article is mainly an exploration of past sightings, it closes with Cass’s story.

  4. The comments on Frykowski’s post rapidly pile up, with both Lansburg residents and outsiders adding to the conversation.

  5. Frykowski’s website is discovered by radio personality Robert Nash and featured on his nightly show, Basin and Range Radio. (A call-in show run out of Pahrump, Nevada, that is centered around aliens and other unexplained phenomena. It had been syndicated nationwide earlier in the year.)

  6. The day after Nash’s show airs, there’s a write-up about the “Lansburg Lights” in Weird World News, a national tabloid publication, increasing exposure across the country.

  And after that, future sociologists, well, that’s when the first abduction occurred.

  Blog Comments

  The following compilation is a selection of user comments from lightbringernews.com. Comments were originally posted on the article “‘I Saw a Fire in the Sky’: A Chronology of UFO Sightings in the Greater Pittsburgh Area.”

  devlmdemedoit: Has anyone tried to make contact with these UFOs? Can’t we do something besides WATCH them?

  hereafter: This article is ridiculous. There isn’t a single credible source listed. Why is the public putting any trust in Adam Frykowski?

  skywatcher51: @hereafter Don’t read it if you don’t like it.

  CIAyylmao2001: WHAT THE FCK PEOPLE HOW LONG IS IT GOING TO TAKE YOU TO REALIZE THOSE LITES HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH ALIENS ITS THE GOVERNMENT KEEPING WATCH ON YOU????????? THERE EXERCISING CONTROL AND ALL OF YOU SHEEP ARE LETTING IT HAPPE
N

  kingcoyote: i seen lights. 3 days ago i was outside putting the lid on the trash can to keep the raccoons out and i looked up and seen about 5 lights moving around and i no they werent airplanes or helicopters

  cakesandmadness: A girl at my school says she saw lights too and I don’t know why she’d lie

  ♥dOnT_hAtE_mE_cUz_Im_FaMoUs♥: @cakesandmadness Maybe bcuz she’s a total drama queen?

  qrevolution: @kingcoyote So I’m not the only one that’s noticed Lansburg is overrun by raccoons lately?

  AliensAmongUs592: This is an excellent article. We should all appreciate Mr. Frykowski for gathering so much relevant information in one place. I’m 65% certain I saw lights in the sky on my way home from work last night. I’ll continue to follow this blog for further developments.

  MissusFry1962: Very informative. I can tell you did a lot of research. Love, Mom.

  Interlude

  Alien Abductions

  Suspend your disbelief for a moment and pretend you believe alien abductions are possible.

  Then, imagine this:

  You’re driving along a dark country road. It’s a route you’ve taken countless times. But tonight, something is different. Tonight, a light appears in the sky ahead of you. You slow down and approach it slowly, an inexplicable feeling of dread getting stronger the closer you get.

  As you near the light, your radio—tuned to a local station—has a burst of static. The stations rapidly change. And was that…? Did you hear a voice coming through the speakers? For a moment, it was almost as if you were receiving a command…

  Now the light is directly above you. Without warning, your car shuts off completely, as if the battery died. The light becomes more intense, filling the vehicle, and a sound starts. A hum. Is it coming from above you? Is it from inside your own head?

  Trying to restart your car does nothing. You panic. You fumble your cell phone from your pocket to call someone, anyone, to rescue you. Despite your terror, you notice the time: 9:07 p.m.

  You open your phone contacts and hesitate. Who should you call? A friend? A family member? The police?

  It turns out, you never have to make the decision.

  As suddenly as it appeared, the light is gone. The radio plays softly. The night, once again, seems perfectly normal.

  Except for the fact that your car is parked in the middle of the road, and you have your phone in hand. You glance down at it.

  It’s 9:48 p.m.

  You’d only scrolled through your contacts for a few seconds. A minute at the absolute most.

  So how did the time jump from 9:07 to 9:48? Where did those forty-one minutes go?

  You brush it off. Better to not dwell on it.

  But some things won’t stay buried.

  A few nights later, the memories come. The feeling of being powerless. Of having someone in your head, reading your thoughts. Instruments probing your body. Paralysis. And looming over you, a large, gray head with black eyes.

  The eyes stay with you the longest. Make you wake up screaming.

  Everywhere you go, everything you do, you think of those black eyes.

  You feel altered, though you can’t say how exactly. You simply know you’re different. You know that in those forty-one minutes something happened to you, something you can’t explain. No one would believe you even if you could explain.

  One single night. Forty-one lost minutes. That’s all it took to change your life forever.

  That’s all it took to destroy you.

  Or maybe not. Maybe you aren’t destroyed.

  Yes, there’s fear. There’s pain. There’s panic.

  But maybe, you begin to think, maybe on the night you were taken, what you actually experienced was enlightenment.

  (Other possible explanations include: overactive imagination, false memories, confusion, outright deceit.)

  Event: Unexpected Escalation

  Date: Sept. 15 (Fri.)

  The school week began with Cass’s admission about nighttime lights. By Friday, the entire town was buzzing about them.

  In first period, Mrs. Novak assigned us a worksheet on the effects of smoking on the human body. Twenty minutes after class started, the door opened and Sofia Russo waltzed in.

  “Russo,” Mrs. Novak said. “You’re remarkably late.”

  “Sorry,” Sofia replied in a breathy voice.

  “Sorry doesn’t cut it. Go to the office and get a tardy slip.”

  “Wait, you don’t understand,” Sofia said.

  Mrs. Novak leaned back against her desk. “Enlighten me.”

  Sofia straightened her shoulders and tilted her chin up. She was about to perform. Every time she walked onstage during a play, she did the same maneuver. It was a habit that kept her from getting lead roles, though she preferred to blame favoritism toward Cass.

  Her pre-performance ritual complete, Sofia’s eyes filled with tears. A shudder ran through her body. She wrapped her arms around herself, clasped her elbows in her hands.

  Then she said, “Last night I…I was…taken.”

  “Taken where?” Mrs. Novak asked. Some of the sharpness had left her voice.

  “Abducted,” Sofia whispered.

  What?

  She wasn’t…she wasn’t saying she’d been abducted by aliens… right?

  “Abducted?” Mrs. Novak repeated.

  Sofia nodded and sucked in a deep breath. “I was…I saw the lights. I couldn’t look away from them and they got brighter and brighter and then…they came. I could feel them in my head and…”

  Sofia broke down sobbing and crumpled to the classroom floor.

  The situation was so much like a highly dramatized performance of Cass’s own alien confession that for a moment I had the sensation of being stuck in a time loop or transported to another dimension.

  What was Sofia doing?

  I glanced at Ishmael in the back row.

  And wouldn’t you know it, my brother grinned.

  Mrs. Novak helped Sofia to her feet and asked another student to walk her to the nurse’s office. Once they were gone, the classroom erupted with excitement and speculation. It seemed that 44 percent of the class agreed they wouldn’t put it past Sofia to lie, but her performance went above and beyond.

  Those tears seemed real.

  When the bell rang, I hurried to catch up to Ishmael, who was meandering to second period as if nothing alarming had occurred.

  “We need to talk,” I said.

  “Why?”

  “Why?” I glanced around the hall to make sure no one was paying attention. “Because someone just claimed they’ve been abducted by aliens!”

  Ishmael stopped walking and turned to me. “Look, dude. Sofia wasn’t actually abducted.”

  I took a deep, calming breath. “Yes, I’m aware.”

  “What’s the problem then?”

  “Wait,” I said, a terrible realization dawning. “Did you put her up to this?”

  Ishmael squinted. “Of course not. You made that rule.” (The rule: my brother was not, under any circumstances, to add to or amend the hoax without my approval.)

  “In that case, I have to wonder why you feel no concern about this development.”

  “Why are you freaking out so bad?”

  I took a breath and tried to get ahold of myself. “This is an experiment. It’s supposed to be closely controlled—by me, the scientist. If I lose control, my data will be meaningless.”

  Ishmael shrugged affably. “Yeah, but like, you’re not totally giving up control. You’re stepping back and watching the situation… evolve.”

  “Evolve,” I repeated, staring at him.

  “Right.”

  The hoax was evolving. It was taking on a life of its own.

  Because of me.

  Because of everything I�
��d set in motion.

  Ishmael headed to his next class, whistling as he went, but I remained rooted in the hallway.

  Evolving.

  Maybe there was no reason to be concerned.

  Maybe I was more successful than I’d ever imagined.

  Interview

  Subject #3, Cassidy (Cass) Robinson: Honestly, it was the best performance of Sofia’s life. Later, in Hamelin! rehearsal, Sofia was backstage regaling a bunch of rats with the story of her abduction. Not real rats, obviously, the freshmen cast as rats in the play. When the rats heard their cue and scurried onstage to torment the townspeople of Hamelin, Sofia and I were alone. She gave me this smug smile and was like, “Guess I’m not so terrible at improv after all.” And I said, “That wasn’t rehearsed?” She shook her head. After that, I did the only thing that made sense. I congratulated her.

  Event: Unexpected Escalation (Cont.)

  No one wanted ice cream in autumn.

  Okay, that was inaccurate. I didn’t want ice cream in autumn, or really 98 percent of the time. It was messy to eat from a cone and seasonally inappropriate once the weather changed. I was baffled that others disagreed.

  I was at Super Scoop, wearily assembling ice cream cones for a myriad of elementary school kids who’d rushed in after their final bell. The late-afternoon light reflected on the lava lamp outside, giving the ice cream parlor a pink hue.

  Technically, my manager, Laser (Presumably, Laser wasn’t her real name, and just as presumably her hair wasn’t naturally neon blue, but I’d never questioned her about either.), was working as well. But she was in the back, watching TV.

  Owen occasionally worked the after-school shift with me, when he wasn’t in play rehearsals or baseball practice. Unfortunately, he was engaged with extracurriculars more often than not. Which, really, I should have been too.

  At any rate, I was alone, with no one to help handle the elementary school rush, because Laser found it more imperative to watch a rerun of Pitch, Please—the pitch was for a battle of the bands–style show where every week a band member was replaced with a musician from a different genre.