Earth Camp

by James Rumpel

Part 1 appears in this issue.

conclusion

Emil and Eli Hoopman trudged their way deeper and deeper into the forest.

“This is just a waste of time,” declared Emil. “Let’s turn back.”

“No way. Pa said he thought the UFO he saw last night is somewhere in this direction. The picture he took with his flip phone isn’t very good. If we can find the spaceship and take a better picture, we could be famous. I know there are magazines that will pay big money for proof that aliens exist.”

The two brothers had set out at daybreak hoping to find some evidence that their father had seen an actual flying saucer and not experienced some type of alcohol-induced hallucination. They had both begun their search with energy and excitement. Now, several hours later, the initial enthusiasm was long gone.

Emil was about to complain some more when he caught a slight glint of something shiny in a small clearing to the left. “I think I just saw something that way.”

Eli held up his hand to silence his younger brother. “Keep quiet,” he whispered. “We don’t want the aliens to capture us. I don’t want to be probed.”

They slowly advanced through the thick underbrush. About twenty feet from the clearing, both Hoopmans froze in their tracks. What they saw was not an alien craft, but something just as amazing and, possibly, profitable. Sitting on a rock, with a large glass of purple lemonade resting beside it, was a large hairy creature. A massive pile of brush was visible beyond the lounging monster.

Eli turned to Emil and mouthed “Bigfoot.” Emil carefully took out his cell phone and opened the camera app, causing the phone to make a loud pinging noise. The brothers froze at the sound. The Sasquatch did not.

The creature quickly stood and turned to face the direction from which the sound had come. Its eyes instantly focused on the two humans. It began to run towards them, growling loudly.

Emil and Eli instantly turned and ran. They scurried through the brush and trees. After tripping over an exposed root, Emil managed to snap an unfocused photo of the monster before regaining his feet and continuing his escape.

The two brothers did not halt their retreat until they were miles from the clearing.

“Did you get a picture?” asked Eli.

Emil examined his phone. “Yes, but it’s pretty fuzzy.”

“Should we go back and take another?”

“I’m not going back there!” replied Emil. “This picture is good enough. Maybe we won’t be able to sell it to some big-city magazine, but I bet the local paper will be interested.”

* * *

Orion returned to the rock where he had been resting after camouflaging the spaceship.

“Where’d they go?” asked Bob.

“They just took off running. They didn’t even let me ask them for help or if they had any salt. I think they were scared of me,” responded Orion in his low growling tone.

“Well maybe they will come back with help,” suggested Blog.

“Maybe, but they sure didn’t want to talk to me.” The furry alien picked up his companion and headed toward the hidden spaceship. “Let’s wait inside and check on Mr. Samm.”

* * *

Wo and Aron continued their trek towards the place that might have salt. The march had not been easy. The challenge of having to walk around trees and other obstacles made for a time-consuming journey. Darkness had nearly fallen when they reached a break in the woods. Their path had intersected a flat trail which cut through the forest.

“It is what they call a road. Their vehicles move along its path,” explained Aron after consulting his computer. “It means we’re close.”

“Very close,” added Wo. The lizard boy pointed to the right.

A short distance in that direction stood an Earth building. A large sign with dozens of human symbols was hanging from a thick pole in front of the structure. Next to it was a group of miniature buildings separated by oddly shaped pathways of green carpeting. Another sign was positioned in front of the conglomeration of small houses. The symbols on this placard read: “LOST CITY MINI-GOLF.”

Aron, once again, used his computer. “The large building is something called a store. The salt will be inside. The tiny buildings and green paths are a miniature golf course. It’s supposed to be some type of game or entertainment. Don’t worry about that. We need to get inside the store and grab some salt.”

“How are we going to do that?” asked Wo. “We don’t have any of their currency and we definitely don’t look like them.”

“You’re forgetting that I am a Lortian,” replied his blue friend. With that, Aron began to remove his clothing.

“Oh yeah, you can become invisible.”

Aron pulled in a deep breath of air and exhaled it quickly. When the last bit of oxygen escaped his mouth, he simply disappeared. The clothing he had been wearing hung suspended in the air. “Here, take these,” he said as he handed his tunic, shoes, and computer to Wo. “I’ll be right back.”

* * *

Aron had only been gone for a short time, but it seemed like an eternity to Wo. He decided to move closer in order to get a better view of what was happening. He soon found himself standing within the miniature golf course. He figured that if he needed to, he could hide behind the largest structure in the area: a cylindrical shaped building with four large blades.

As he moved along one of the carpeted pathways, Wo stubbed his toe on a round hole in the carpet. He tried to keep his balance, flailing his tail to do so. His tail hit one of the miniature houses knocking it over. Still staggering, he stepped on another building, breaking it to pieces. He was just about to steady himself when a loud rumbling sound came from the road. Wo recoiled in fear. If an Earth vehicle saw him there could be catastrophic results. He spun around to look for a hiding place, upsetting two more buildings. He crushed another with his feet as he tried to get to safety. He was unable to find cover before the Earth vehicle sped past in a blur of color and sound. Wo raced into the nearest patch of trees.

Hiding behind the largest of them, Wo watched as the vehicle returned. It slowed and then stopped as near to the miniature golf course as it could. After a few moments, the bright red vehicle turned and continued in the direction it was originally heading.

Wo sighed, relieved that he had not been discovered.

* * *

Inside the store, Aron, stood motionless in a corner. Even though he was invisible, he was afraid that he’d been discovered. When he had pushed the door open, a loud bell had rung above him. Panicked by the unexpected and alarming sound, he had rushed to the corner, where he now huddled waiting to be discovered. Finally, he relaxed. The human standing behind the counter had not seen him even after investigating the door and the area immediately around it.

As quietly as possible, Aron began searching through the aisles of items looking for salt. His computer had told him that the salt would be in a dark blue cylindrical container with a picture of a human child wearing yellow clothing and holding an inverted parabolic dish. He was amazed at how many different things could be found in the Crawford General Store. He was particularly intrigued by the packages labeled “Feminine Products” but knew he did not have the time to investigate their purpose.

Eventually, he located the salt in an aisle uncomfortably close to the one human in the store. Not certain how much he would require, Aron extended his arm to scoop all of the containers from the shelf. One of the salt packages slipped from his grasp and fell. Instinctively, Aron attempted to slow its fall with his foot. He only succeeded in losing his balance and staggering back into the shelving. The impact jostled the shelves for a second. A large package of flour was displaced from the top shelf. The bag of white powder split open when it hit Aron squarely on the head.

Overcome by fear, Aron abandoned all semblance of stealth. He sprinted to the door. He flinched but did not slow, as the bell sounded again.

* * *

Carl Wilburt returned to his position behind the counter. He had looked up from the paper he was reading when the door had opened and the bell rang but had not seen anyone. He had checked the door and glanced outside without finding any indication that someone was there. He assumed it must have been the wind and didn’t give it a second thought. He picked up this week’s copy of the Crawford County Inquirer and continued to peruse the want ads.

A few minutes later, another sound drew Carl’s attention. This time it was unmistakable; someone was in the store. He went to investigate what sounded like something falling from the shelves. As he turned the corner, he froze in shock. There stood the ghostly white image of a small boy carrying four containers of salt. He could not make out any details of the specter’s face. Shaking with fear, Carl stepped aside as the apparition moved past him and exited through the front door.

It took quite a while for Carl to regain his composure. Still shaking slightly, he picked up the phone and began dialing.

* * *

When Aron and Wo returned to the campsite, they were barely able to recognize it. Orion had buried the ship under so many branches and limbs that it looked like a small mountain had popped out of the ground. For a moment, they feared that the rest of the troop had left without them. To their relief, a section of shrubbery fell aside as the door to the spacecraft opened and their large hirsute companion emerged.

“Aron, Wo, you made it!” growled Orion. “Get in here quickly. Mr. Samm isn’t doing very well.”

The two returning scouts sprinted to the doorway. Aron immediately ran to their leader who was lying on a cot. Samm, who when healthy was a deep shade of green, had a pale olive complexion.

Aron found the instructions on how to apply the salt on his ever-helpful computer. “We simply need to apply a large amount of the salt to each of the injured areas. The three scouts who possessed hands each grabbed a cylinder of salt and began shaking the contents on the injuries the squirrel had inflicted. The salt’s regenerative powers took effect almost instantly. The young scouts watched in amazement as all the bleeding stopped, the wounds closed, and Samm’s skin slowly began to return to its original tone.

“We can take the tourniquet off now,” instructed Aron.

The four scouts stood around the body of Samm 348. They silently waited for some sign that their healing attempt had been successful. Samm had lost a considerable amount of blood.

“What if he doesn’t make it?” asked Bob.

“I don’t know,” replied Aron. “The ship is linked to his neurological implant. We won’t be able to fly it.”

“You mean we’ll be stranded here?” The distress was obvious in Orion’s growl.

“Well, maybe we can learn to play miniature golf,” said Wo.

“Wait!” shouted Aron. “Samm’s eyestalk just moved. He’s blinking. I think he’s waking up.”

All four space scouts shouted ecstatically. Bob’s container even shook slightly as he jumped for joy.

* * *

As the spaceship hurtled away from Earth, a less pale Samm addressed his scout troop.

“It is with great honor that I hereby award the Primitive Planet Survival and Non-detection Merit Badge and the Emergency Rescue Medal to all four members of Space Troop 4242.” He gave the medals to each of the four young scouts, adhering Bob’s to his jar.

“I am also going to award the First Aid Merit Badge to each of you and I have a couple of extra badges to hand out.”

“Am I going to get the Creature Identification Badge?” asked Wo.

“No,” replied Samm tersely. He continued, “Orion and Bob are going to receive an award to commend them for their excellent job of hiding the ship.”

“I did all the work,” stated Orion.

Samm glared, his green eyestalks crossed; a clear indication of irritation. He sighed deeply and continued. “And Aron is to be given a very special badge to celebrate his valor and leadership in a dire emergency. Also, since you did save my life, I will not punish you for bringing a computer on this trip.”

A humble and embarrassed Aron smiled sheepishly then bowed his head and slowly turned invisible.

* * *

Carl concluded telling the tale of his encounter with the ghost boy as he rang up the customer’s large purchase.

“That is awesome,” said the young woman. “You are the actual person from the article?”

“Yup, it happened right over there.” Carl pointed to the adjacent row of shelves. “Not only that, the picture of the Godzilla-creature smashing the miniature golf course was taken from a car right outside of here.”

“Now that I think of it,” interrupted the customer. “Can I get four more copies of the paper? I’ve got to show it to all my friends. It’s amazing that in one week a remote area like this can have a UFO sighting, a Bigfoot encounter, a ghost, and a giant lizard attack. These newspapers have to be selling like hotcakes.”

“They sure are,” added Carl as he grabbed four more papers off the ever-shrinking stack behind the counter. “We have never sold even half this many copies of The Crawford County Inquirer.”

The customer pulled a credit card from her purse. “There has to be more strange activity around here than anywhere else in the world.”

Carl nodded, “I know. I’m thinking of putting a museum next to the miniature golf course. Plus, I talked to the publisher of the Inquirer, and she’s thinking of devoting an entire issue to unexplained phenomena. By the way, would you like to have your picture taken next to the buildings that Godzilla destroyed? It costs only five dollars.”