Saucer

'You could help out some on the farm, I guess. I'd be lying if I told you we needed you desperately. The boys get the chores done every day.'

Rip nodded. 'Uncle Egg is supposed to call in a couple of weeks. He wants me to stay out of sight until then. You can tell the guys I'm here if you make them promise not to tell anyone else.'

'They might tell, Rip. They like to drink beer on Saturday nights and they've got girlfriends.'

'If they suspect I'm here and we didn't tell them, we'll have problems. Ask them not to tell. That's all we can do.'

'Okay.'

'The saucer is hidden where no one can find it. I thought maybe after dark tonight I'd take some clothes and grub and walk up to the lake. I could stay in the cabin up there, fish a little, read some of those books I never seem to have time for.'

'People fish that lake, Rip. It's open to the public.'

'Anybody in a boat will be too far out to see who I am.'

'Reporters have called here two or three dozen times this past week, pestering me something fierce. I'm surprised the phone hasn't rung this morning.'

'When Uncle Egg calls in a couple of weeks, you could drive up to the lake and get me.'

'If that's what you want.'

'If no one finds out I'm here, this whole thing will blow over. The press will write about something else tomorrow. The politicians will want another tax, one of the president's old girlfriends will tell all, there will be another scandal du jour in Hollywood… something. The papers are full of something every day.'

'Is that a prediction?'

'It's a prayer. I can't live like this for very long.'

'How serious are you about this Charley woman?'

'Mom!'

'That's a fair question.'

'Who said I was serious?'

'I wasn't born yesterday. You didn't go all the way to Australia to rescue a piece of machinery.'

'I like her. All right? Is there anything wrong with that?'

'Well, I don't know. You never tell me anything. Exactly how old is she, anyway?'

'I don't know exactly. I didn't ask to see her driver's license.'

'She sounds pretty old to me. A test pilot, retired from the Air Force — '

'She is not retired! She resigned.'

'I never thought of you with an older woman. It's… upsetting, somehow…'

'I'm going upstairs and lie down, Mom. Okay? I didn't get any sleep last night.'

'If she calls, should I wake you up?'

'Oh, Mom!'

As Rip climbed the stairs, she called after him, 'Has Charley been married before?'

His room looked like he remembered it: kid stuff stuck all over, a couple of pinups, a football he had scored a winning touchdown with his senior year, a movie poster, souvenirs from baseball games in Chicago… It was time to throw most of this junk away.

His father's old Winchester was in the closet under the eaves. Rip got it out and worked the lever several times. He dug through the closet until he found a box of ammo for the thing. The stuff was five or six years old but it would have to do.

He loaded the rifle, made sure the hammer was down, and set it beside the bed within easy reach. Only then did he take off his shoes and lie down.

Rip got to the cabin a little after midnight. Jet lag still had him in its grip, so he got the broom and swept out the place, put his knapsack of canned goods on the shelf. Mice had eaten a few holes in the sheets and blankets. He shook them out, put them on the bed anyway.

Rip's father built the cabin two or three years before he died. Rip remembered coming here several times with his father that first summer, then his father's health began failing.

During his high school years Rip spent a few nights here with his pals, drinking beer and smoking cigarettes they weren't supposed to have and generally acting stupid.

The cabin was just a place in his life, a place without a lot of memories good or bad.

The kerosene lamp didn't really give enough light to read by. Rip sat on the porch in the darkness listening to the night sounds of frogs and insects. The mosquitoes weren't ravenous, they just nibbled now and then.

Toward dawn he found himself nodding off, so he went to bed.

The days settled into a routine. He slept when he was sleepy, ate when he was hungry, fished when he wasn't reading. The fish he caught he ate. The third day he was there rain fell for several hours.

He had been at the cabin a week when one of the hired men brought him two bags of groceries. 'Your mom sent the food. Me and Otis chipped in for the six-pack.'

'Thanks, Sherman. 'Preciate it.'

'Me and Otis won't tell a soul you're here, Rip. Honest.'

'I believe you.'

'We've really been asked, that's for darn sure. Reporter outta Los Angeles offered me a hundred bucks to tell him what I know. Mainly he wanted to know about you when you were a kid. I turned him down cold, of course. I wouldn't run my mouth against my friends for any amount of money. You know me.'

'Right.'

'Everybody in town is dying to ask you all about that saucer, where it is, how'd you learn to fly it, all that stuff.'

'Uh-huh.'

'Sorta curious my own self too, you understand.'

'Soon as I'm able, I'll tell you all about it.'

'Me and Otis won't tell a soul, Rip. Honest.'

'It's good to have friends like you guys.'

'You know, I never even seen a flying saucer. Not a one. In this day and age, can you believe it?'

'They're kinda rare.'

'Maybe you can give us a ride too, huh?'

'Well

'My girlfriend Arlene, she is so excited. She's really into aliens and parallel universes, reads a lot of books. Knows all about saucers. She'd think I was the hottest thing in jeans if you gave her a ride too.'

I'll try to do that for you, Sherman. Thanks for coming up.'

'Yeah, Rip. Me and Otis won't tell a soul. Honest.'

Sherman and Otis would talk, and Rip knew it. In fact, he would bet a hundred to one that Arlene and all her friends knew the saucer was somewhere nearby.

As Rip watched Sherman drive away, it came to him that someone would soon come to get the saucer. He had been assuming that because the saucer was hidden, no one would know where he was. Ha!

The question was who would arrive first, government agents or Roger Hedrick's thugs. Or some third party. The saucer was too valuable. $150 billion, Charley said. Having that much money would be like owning California.

He had been a fool, sitting here dumb and happy reading books and fishing, confident that Hedrick was beaten and the government was stupid. The miracle was that they hadn't already arrived. So what should he do? Take the saucer and skedaddle? Leave the saucer hidden and boogie for a week or so, giving Egg and Olie time to litigate? Or stay right here?

He took the groceries inside, opened a couple cans of chili, and put the contents in a saucepan to heat on the wood stove.

The thing to do was get the hell out of Dodge. The only place the saucer was absolutely safe was in orbit. Where it was now was second best, but better than sitting beside a Canadian river or on an ice floe in the Antarctic.