Aliens for Dinner (6 page)

“Hup! Hup!” Aric’s voice boomed in the silence. “Snap out of it! We have aliens to move! Let us go!”

“Yes, master,” said Richard. He couldn’t believe how bossy Aric could be sometimes. “I obey.” He picked up a bored-stiff Dwilb. To his surprise, the creature was very light. And now that it was stiff, it didn’t smell so bad. He picked up a few more.

“To the parking lot!” commanded Aric. “To Bob’s van!”

With Aric on his shoulder and four Dwilbs under each arm, Richard hurried outside. Bob’s van was unlocked. Richard stashed the Dwilbs in the van, ran back inside to get the rest, and carried them out to the van, too.

“Now what?” Richard was panting.

“Get into the van,” said Aric. “We are going to the beach.”

Richard headed for the passenger door. “Not there!” barked Aric. “You are driving!”

“What?” Richard wasn’t sure he’d heard right.

“You will guide the van. I will guide you,” said Aric. “And hurry! You must be back at the center before the program ends. Your mother will be looking for you.”

Richard climbed into the driver’s seat. He fastened his seat belt. He could just reach the steering wheel. But his legs weren’t long enough to touch the gas or the brakes. Richard had often dreamed of driving—usually a roaring red sports car—but now he felt like a midget.

“Keep your hands on the wheel and stay calm,” said Aric. “I will do the rest.”

Richard knew he didn’t have any choice. He gripped the steering wheel and looked at Aric. The little pink alien was sitting on his shoulder, eyes closed. He made a high-pitched noise that rang in Richard’s
ears and then traveled through his whole body. It felt like pins and needles, only better.

At the same instant the van’s engine started thrumming. Richard’s hands tightened on the wheel. The van was moving!

It shot out of the parking lot, lurched into a U-turn, and charged down a back street. It was going fast—too fast. The needle on the speedometer said seventy-five miles an hour!

“Slow down, Aric! We’ll hit something,
or get stopped for speeding! They’ll throw me in jail for life!”

“Oh, all right.” Aric sounded grumpy, but he did slow down. Soon they were going along at forty-five miles an hour, and Richard’s heart stopped racing. But then, about a mile from the beach, he heard a strange rustling in the back of the van. He looked in the rearview mirror.

Oh, no! The Dwilbs were moving! They were starting to unstiffen! Richard thought fast. Then he started talking just like Mr. Felshin.

“There is nothing like … a used plastic bag for sorting marbles,” he said slowly. “Yellow in one bag. Green in another. Blue in … yet another. Then red. Then purple. And let’s not forget multicolor marbles … They can go … in their own special plastic bag….”

He checked the mirror. The Dwilbs were stiff again. And it was a good thing, too. They were at the beach.

The engine stopped and Richard heard the slow rumble of breaking waves. He climbed out of the van. There were no lights
on the beach and the night was foggy. He couldn’t see much.

“We must get them onto the sand,” said Aric.

We?
thought Richard. But all he said was, “Yes, master.” Then he carried the Dwilbs onto the beach.

“Stack them in a pile,” Aric shouted over the crash of the waves. “The Brigade is ready for pickup.”

But where is the Brigade?
thought Richard. He peered up into the sky. At first, all he saw was fuzzy gray darkness. Then he spotted a tiny glowing speck far overhead. “Is that it?” he asked.

Before Aric could answer, the speck flashed and grew bright. Then it turned into a laser-thin orange beam, and streaked down through the sky to the sand. It found the stack of Dwilbs, danced, hummed, and crackled like lightning. The beam was so bright that Richard had to close his eyes.

When he opened them, the beam was gone. So were the Dwilbs.

“That is it,” said Aric.

“Richard, have another egg roll,” said Mrs. Bickerstaff.

“Okay. Just one more,” said Richard. Bob passed him the container. It was Friday night, and they were eating takeout Chinese food. Bob had brought it. He’d also brought over the first three Space Lords of Gygrax comic books, the ones from his collection. They looked totally cool. Richard couldn’t wait to read them.

“So how was school today, sweetie?” asked Richard’s mother.

A lot better
, thought Richard.
Now that the Dwilbs are gone
. But all he said was, “Fine, Mom.”

He smiled as he chewed on his egg roll. Life had definitely improved. No more Dwilbs in the schoolyard selling Sludgies. No more Dwilbs snorting exhaust fumes. No more Dwilbs pushing pollution. The streets looked cleaner. So did the beach. And Henry was acting like his old self again! He was back to eating weird vegetarian food and back to leading the Green Patrol. Richard had even volunteered in school today. Now he knew—they needed all the help they could get.

“How was your day?” he asked politely.

“Great!” said Mrs. Bickerstaff. “We finally got a trial date for the chemical dumping case—after all this time.” She grinned. “Should be some trial,” she said. “I can hardly wait. We’re gonna whup those guys good!”

“Harriet! You’re such a tiger!” said Bob admiringly.

Mrs. Bickerstaff blushed. “Well, you’re
no slouch, either,” she said. “Last night went so well. Everyone was impressed with the recycling center. And they liked the program too.”

“They did. They did,” said Bob. He put down his chopsticks. “There’s one thing that puzzles me, though,” he said.

“What’s that?”

“Marge La Farge,” said Bob. “She acted so strange after Phil Felshin’s speech. So strange. Just marched right on stage and started talking.”

“That
was
strange,” said Richard’s mother. “Didn’t you tell me she had called saying she was too sick to speak?”

“That’s right,” said Bob. “That’s right. Then she showed up. Completely healthy!” He gave a confused laugh. “I don’t get it. I don’t get it.”

Richard figured he’d better change the subject. “Uh, Bob!” he said hastily. “Where did you put those Space Lords comics?” He jumped up. “I really can’t wait to read them. Where are they? In the living room?” He headed for the door.

“Richard!” said his mother. “Where are
you going? We haven’t even had dessert yet.”

“Oh, that’s okay, Mom,” said Richard. “I can eat dessert later, can’t I?”

Bob smiled. “They’re on the coffee table, Richard,” he said. “On the coffee table. Go ahead and read them. I want to help your mother clean up.” He took Mrs. Bickerstaff’s hand and they smiled at each other. “I’ll be in later.”

Now it was Richard’s turn to blush. He hadn’t seen his mom look at anyone that way for a long time. Little hearts were practically flying out of her eyes!

He hurried into the living room. There, just as Bob had said, were the Space Lords comics.

Richard kicked off his hightops and stretched out on the sofa. As he settled down to read the very first Space Lords comics ever published, he heard his mother and Bob laughing in the kitchen. He smiled. It was a nice sound.

    The next day Mrs. Bickerstaff and Bob went out bike riding, so Richard and Aric
had the kitchen to themselves. They were at the table, and Aric was climbing onto a saltshaker. From here he would be beamed back to Ganoob.

“Don’t you want to stay, even for the weekend?” asked Richard. He hated to see Aric go.

“I cannot,” said the little alien. “Cosmic terrorism is at an all-time high. Entire galaxies are at risk. The Brigade calls. And besides, I miss Ingbar.” Ingbar was Aric’s girlfriend.

He stood up on the saltshaker. “Before I forget,” he said, “I have something to give you. A token, to show the Brigade’s appreciation for your excellent help.” He held out his hand. In it was a small, shiny object.

Richard’s mouth fell open. “The Mind Control Inducer? Aric! Are you kidding?”

“Most certainly not!” snapped the little alien. “And I expect you to use it with the utmost care! Remember that it will only cause brainlock for eight Earth minutes. And for Gazook’s sake, remember how expensive it is! Save it for an emergency! I am not talking about a pop quiz, either!”

“Okay, okay,” said Richard. Sometimes the way Aric read his mind was really embarrassing.

Suddenly the little alien started to fade. He raised a hand in farewell.

“Aric! Good-bye!” said Richard. “And thank you! Thank you for everything!”

“It was good to see you, Richard,” said Aric, disappearing fast. “It is always good to see you.”

And then he was gone.

STEPHANIE SPINNER
is the author of many books for children, including
Aliens for Breakfast
and
Aliens for Lunch
, which she wrote with her friend Jonathan Etra. She lives in New York City— “where there are lots of aliens,” she insists, “especially the kind who say things twice.”

STEVE BJÖRKMAN
has been drawing since he was a boy, usually during class at school, but only when the teacher was boring. Some teachers told him it would never get him anywhere, but it did. Now he gets to draw for advertising, children’s books, and greeting cards. He lives with his wife, three kids, a dog, cat, and hamster in Irvine, California.