“Well,” said Halpern, “prize-winning or not, she told me she saw a bunch of those same rosebushes get up off the ground and walk around.”
The bartender’s jaw dropped. “You must be kidding.”
“That’s what she told me,” said Halpern, “and that’s the way I’m going to report it. She even took a couple of pictures, but the damn things didn’t come out.”
The bartender shrugged. “I don’t know what to think.”
Halpern downed his beer and prepared to leave. “You know,” he said, “I used to be a hotshot columnist, weekdays
~ * ~
SKY GOES BLACK AT NOON
ON SUNNY DAY
~ * ~
Sumptersville, NY (Aug. 20)—According to residents of Sagerstown, four miles east of Sumptersville, the sky suddenly turned black at twelve noon yesterday. Local weather charts showed that the day was cloudless and sunny, with north-northwest winds at six to eight miles per hour, but an affidavit signed by nearly all of the seventy-six residents of the tiny community, known statewide for its annual cornbread festival each September, swore that at exactly twelve o’clock “the sky went completely dark, as if God Himself had pulled a light switch off.”
There were no stars visible during the occurrence, which lasted approximately five minutes, and an eerie silence seemed to come over the town. Then suddenly, according to the statement, it was bright daylight again.
Witnesses and signers of the affidavit included six members of the local town council, as well as retired weatherman Jed Burns, who worked for local TV station WWWM for twenty-three years. Reached for comment, Burns said that he was “still in a stunned condition” and had no idea what had happened. He said he has tried to get the U.S. Weather Bureau involved in the matter, but that so far they have shown no interest.
~ * ~
“I tell you, Bill,” Halpern yelled into the phone, “I’m real close.”
There was silence on the other end for a moment, and then a squawking sound that lasted for a minute and a half.
At the end of it Halpern waited a few seconds. “No, Bill,” he said calmly, “I have not been out in the sun too long. I’ve told you from the beginning of this thing that you should just let me run with it, and I’m telling you again. When I break it open, I’ll come back to Albany and be a good boy.”
There was another short squawk on the other end.
“That’s right, a good boy. Cover the state legislature and everything. I promise. But you have to let me follow this through.”
Another squawk.
“That’s right. Six-headed chickens and all. But that was yesterday, editor mine. Today it was ball-point pens dropping through the ceiling of a supermarket.”
Another squawk—actually, more of a screech this time, louder and more insistent.
“Didn’t you hear me at all? I said I’m beginning to see a pattern to all this. This could be my chance to be Woodward and Bernstein, Bill.”
“No, I haven’t actually seen any of it. I always seem to be one town behind, and when I guess where the next thing will occur, I always guess wrong. But I’ll break the code. And yes, the chicken
Silence on the other end; then a low, rasping sound.
“That’s right, Bill—Woodward and Bernstein. Sure you got that whole story? Okay, call you tomorrow.”
~ * ~
COW GIVES BIRTH TO
TWO DOGS
Pokerton, NY (Aug. 23)—Bill Gainesborough, a small farmer in this dairy farming community, swears that one of his cows gave birth to two puppies earlier this week. Gainesborough, who was upset by the event and hesitant to talk about it to reporters, stated that his cow Ilse, one of thirty milk cows on the farm, gave birth to two dogs “right in front of my eyes.”
The puppies are cocker spaniels, and there are no cocker spaniel owners within ten miles of the Gainesborough property. Neighbors, who urged the farmer to talk about what had happened, swore that Gainesborough was not the kind of man to pull a hoax. The puppies were given to a local foundling home.
~ * ~
Halpern didn’t call his editor back the next day. On Wednesday the twenty-fifth he found himself in Lolarkin, where a group of schoolboys claimed to have seen three moons in the sky. Thursday the twenty-sixth found him in Crater, where two grandmothers and twelve of their kin swore that their house had lifted itself off its foundation, turned around 180 degrees, and set itself back down again. On Friday he was in Peach Hollow, just missing a rain of black tar. Saturday he spent in Cooperville, arriving a scant three minutes after two hamsters had talked in a crowded pet store; he’d guessed right on that location, but had miscalculated as to time. Sunday morning the twenty-ninth he sat in a diner in Reseda, staring at a horribly creased map of the state, when suddenly the pattern rose before his blurry eyes.
He shoved the map under his arm as he dialed the phone. His hands were shaking. He stared back across the room at his eggs getting cold while the phone rang.
“Bill, it’s me.”
This time there wasn’t squawking, but rather a high and steady whine.
“I
His hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
“Shut up, Bill,” he said into the phone as the whining started up again. He fumbled the map up to his eyes. “It’s simple as hell. Crisscross, crisscross. These things have been making little
Silence.
“Did you hear me?”
Silence again. Then a carefully phrased question.
“No, I won’t tell you where I am. Wait for me to phone in my story. But I’ll bet you even money that I’m in the place where the next thing happens. Just another day or two, Bill. That’s all I need.”
Silence. Then a sigh.
“Thanks, Bill. If you were here I’d kiss your ugly face.”
~ * ~
BOY TELEPORTED FROM
OWN HOUSE TO NEIGHBOR’S
~ * ~
Grafton, NY (Aug. 30)—Ten-year-old Bobby Milestone, who vanished into thin air while playing quietly in his own front yard today, was found an hour later in the home of Grafton neighbor Mr. Fred Warbling. The youth claimed to remember nothing that happened to him between the time he vanished and reappeared. “I was out front one second,” he stated, “and the next second I was on top of Mr. Warbling’s car in his garage.”
The youth vanished before the startled eyes of his uncle, Mr. Eugene Milestone, who was looking out the
