Salt (Part 2 of 3)

      

      She turned to face him, her eyes wide. He stood there with a scowling Phoenix in tow.

     “Are you going to shoot fire out of your mouth and kill me?” she asked. Her hand moved towards her gun.

     “No. That was a myth. I never did that. The Capellans gave me this…device. It automatically protected me. Shot beams of light,” Tom said. He held out an unremarkable-looking silver disk on a chain around his neck.

     “Beams of light that turned people to salt!” Becky exclaimed.

     “Ssshhh!” Tom said, looking around and then sitting next to her. “It was just two people. They were going to kill me. I didn’t want to. And it didn’t change them to salt. It just vaporized them and left nothing but salt behind.”

     “Oh that’s so much better,” Becky said. “Why were you on their side?” 

     “I wasn’t on their side. I was on humanity’s side. They chose me to try to get people to change their minds. They said I was different than other people in that town.” Tom said.

     “They just showed up and said ‘we’re gonna destroy Los Angeles?’” 

     “I’ll tell you everything. I might as well, since you know we’re here. And maybe, just maybe, once you’ve heard the truth, you’ll have a little sympathy and let us walk out of here without calling the government or the press. But first, my daughters are hungry. Can you please bring them some food?”

     Becky nodded and stood slowly, then started to back away. “Are hamburgers okay?” she asked.

     “Yes, fine.” Tom said.

     “Coming right up,” she said faintly, and restrained herself from bolting to the kitchen. She put the order in with shaking hands. Took a deep breath to calm herself. It seemed like everyone was looking at her. Luis was busy prepping food for the dinner rush, and he and Big Mike watched her from the service window. Ahmed and Hector had caught up with the dishes and she could feel them lingering at the doorway. Becky’s heart began hammering, and the tinkle of the bell on the front door made her jump.

     “Why don’t you take a break, Becky? You look a little tense,” Big Mike said.

     She turned her head and affected a smile. “I’ll be fine.”

     “Those customers have you spooked. It’ll be alright. See?” He pointed, and she looked up. The customer who had just walked in wore normal clothes, but had a badge on his belt. Federal Marshall. She started towards him.

     “Take a break,” Big Mike repeated. “I’ll get his order.”

     Becky nodded, got herself a cup of decaf, and went back to Tom’s table.

     “How’s everything going?” she asked.

     “We’re fine. The girls love their lemon Cokes. Don’t you girls?” he said.

     “I don’t want to alarm you,” Becky said. “Don’t look now, but there is a Federal Marshall sitting right over there.”

     “Got it,” Tom said.

     “Tell me everything,” Becky said.

     “All right,” said Tom. “Girls, go wash your faces and go to the bathroom.”

     His daughters groaned, but obeyed. When they were out of earshot, he began:

     “It started when the doorbell rang. We were just having dinner on a normal Tuesday. The four of us. I answered the door, and it was these two kids. Well, they looked like kids. About four feet tall. One male, one female. But their eyes…their eyes were totally black. No pupils or irises or anything.

     ‘Are you Thomas Toll?’ the boy asked.

      I thought it was some kind of prank. One of the guys at the FX department must have sent his kids over to troll me.

     ‘Yeah, that’s me,’ I said. ‘Aren’t you a little early for Halloween?’

     ‘May we come in?’ the girl asked.

     ‘Did Frank send you? That’s a great effect. Are those color contacts?’

     ‘Thomas Toll, this is not a game. We are from a planet near a sun that you call Capella. It is urgent that we speak with you,” the boy said.

     He had this weird, stilted way of talking. They both did.

     ‘Well, speak on,’ I said. 'Deliver your message from Planet Acapella. Are you guys a singing telegram? I hope that you’re not strippers, because I’ve got the kids here, and—'

     ‘Thomas Toll, in 21 days, we will destroy this city,’ the girl said. It was ridiculous, but when she said it, I got a chill like you get when you walk past a graveyard on a moonless night.

     ‘Why are you going to do that?’ I asked. I was still playing along, wondering how far they were going to take this.

     ‘May we come in?’ the boy said.

     I looked them over. They were tense, but they didn’t seem to have guns or knives. Their clothes were nice, but a bit plain.

     ‘Yeah, come on in.’ I said.

     They came into the house, and the effect on them was immediate. They seemed to completely relax. They actually smiled.

     ‘You don’t have the receiver here,’ the girl said.

     ‘I knew he was the right choice,’ said the boy.

     ‘What are you talking about? What receiver?’ I asked them.

     ‘Nearly every house in your developed nations has an image projection device. You do not.’ 

     ‘Oh, you mean a television? No, I won’t let that sewage pipe in my house. I know, I’m a hypocrite, since I work in that industry, but…’

     ‘You are not like the others, Tom Toll.’ the boy said. You make good programs that give us happy thoughts.’

     ‘I’ve never gotten a review like that before, but thanks. Hey Jane? Girls? Come in here. Some fans of mine dropped by and they are tripping me out.’

     ‘We do not have time for meeting your kinfolk,’ the girl said. ‘The programs that this city sends into space are driving us insane. They are destroying our world.’

     I could tell that they were completely serious. I know acting when I see it, right? It’s my job. So that made me think that they were crazy. I started reaching for my cell phone, and they both…changed. They passed their hands over their faces and their eyes went from black to shining with light. It filled up the whole house. By this time, my wife and kids had come out of the dining room. They started screaming, and the…aliens…put their hands in front of their faces and their eyes changed to black again.

    My wife and I spent some time calming the girls down and holding them while the visitors talked. They came from a planet almost 50 light years away. When we broadcast television, it seeps into space.  The images from our shows go through a rift in our solar system and right into their minds. At first, it wasn’t bad. They liked our shows. It was like dreaming for them. Then we started doing broadcasting around the clock, and they were getting the images while they were working. They adjusted to that, but then the programs started getting really violent and sexually explicit. Capellan kids have nightmares all the time and can’t sleep. Marriages are breaking up; people are addicted to our TV, because they can’t turn it off. Capellans can literally not shut their brains off for a second. Their insane asylums are filling up.

     Needless to say, I was horrified. I apologized for being part of the industry that was hurting them. They told me that they actually like the shows I direct, because they’re so calm and peaceful. It’s one of the few times they get relief. Naturally, I asked them why they couldn’t block the broadcasts. They said that the signals required to do that would scramble their minds even more. They get some relief from these helmets that they’ve built, but they’re made from a very rare and expensive element on their planet. Only a few thousand helmets have been made, but there are a billion people that are suffering. So, after a long debate, they voted to build a spaceship. The Capellans were able to take advantage of the local fold in space-time and get here in a few months instead of thousands of years.

    ‘Turn it off,’ they told me. ‘Turn it off, or we will. This entire city will be destroyed.’

     I told them that it would be impossible. No one was going to listen to me. I suggested that they find some way to get their message out. “Like what?’ the boy said. ‘Television?’ I suggested the Internet, but they told me that everyone would just ignore it unless got out there on the streets and created some interest. So you know the rest. I started walking up and down the streets with a sign, like some prophet of old…or a crazy homeless person. Everyone thought I had gone insane or it was a promo for something I was working on. Every day, I had a different sign. I got interviewed. It went around the world. And of course, the studios laughed at me. They weren’t going to give up a trillion-dollar industry on the say-so of one guy.”

     “So what happened with those two guys that…got killed?”

     “I think they were probably just trying to rob me or something. Lots of people saw it happen, but the cops didn’t believe them. So I never got in trouble for it.”

     “I don’t understand,” Becky said. “Why couldn’t the aliens just target the TV studios and towers and satellites?”

     “Even if they did, someone else would build more in their place. That’s the thing about Hollywood. It’s like a hive. You can’t just kill some of them. If you wanted to stop TV, you’d have to make sure that everyone was dead, and make such a big impact that no one would ever dare to try it again,” Tom said. “And I guess that’s what they did.”

     “How did they do it?” Becky asked.

     “The Capellans said the light came from our own sun. They had the ability to direct light and focus it from their spaceship. Like a giant magnifying glass. It happened so fast. Nothing even had time to burn. Buildings became dust. Every living thing turned to vapor and boiled away. Jane…she wouldn’t go with us. She thought I was insane. Even if it was real, she said, she didn’t want to leave our house and our things behind. She filed a court order to have the girls taken from me. She filed for divorce. The papers didn’t go through before The Event. I begged her. The girls were crying. We left in the middle of the night, and the next morning, it was all gone. We’ve been on the road ever since. People probably think that we died along with everyone else, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

     “You poor things,” Becky said.

     “You don’t think I’m to blame? That’s what the papers were saying. That I was working with the aliens, and that I made it happen somehow. That I’m a monster,” Tom said.

     “Of course not,” Becky said. “It wasn’t your fault. You tried to help. You’re a good man. That’s why the aliens chose you.” She paused and then added, “It’s not your fault that your wife died, either.”

     Tom stared at her, and then shook his head. “I should have physically carried her to the car and put her in it. I could have tied her up, given her sleeping pills…anything. Maybe…maybe I wanted her to stay.”

     “She made her choice. When she chose not to believe in and stand by you at your darkest hour…it was already over,” said Becky. She dropped her head.  “I’m sorry. That’s a terrible thing to say.”

     “The girls will be back soon,” he said. “Let’s not talk about this in front of them right now.”

     “Got it. Let me go check on your order,” Becky said.  She stood up. 

      From the corner of her eye, she saw movement. She turned to see an enormous woman in white dress with pink polka-dots bearing down on her. The woman’s face was pinched in anger.

     “I heard what you said!” she bellowed. “I heard everything! He’s the one. He’s the one who took away TV!” She pointed a sausage-like finger at Tom.

     “Ma’am, you’re mistaken,” Becky said. 

     “I am not mistaken. Don’t try to defend him! I heard him say it.”

     Across the diner, the Federal Marshall had looked up from his steak. He had a walrus mustache and a white cowboy hat, which he had taken off. 

     “He didn’t take away TV, ma’am, the aliens did,” said Becky. “They also killed three million people,” she added, under her breath.

     “He was with them. He helped them. That’s why he’s alive,” the woman insisted. She shoved past Becky to stand next to Tom’s table. Then she pursed her lips and spat on him. The saliva hit Tom in the forehead.

     The Marshall stood up. “That’ll be enough of that,” he said, and although his voice was quiet, every eye in the diner turned to him. 

     The obese woman was the first to recover. “I want you to arrest him, Officer! He’s a terrorist. There’s no such thing as aliens. Him and the other terrorists destroyed Los Angeles!”

     “Let’s get one thing perfectly clear, Ma’am,” the Marshall said. “I’ll arrest whomever I see fit. I know you’re upset. We’re all upset. But let’s not make things worse by spitting on people. Why don’t you have a seat? Finish your lunch before I have to take you in for assault.” He moved towards her, slowly.

     The woman’s eyes nearly popped out. “You’re going to arrest me? He’s the one you should be arresting!” She picked up Tom’s water glass and flung it in his face. Tom stood up. The Marshall stepped forward and put a hand on her arm.

     “How dare you touch me!” she screamed. 

     The Marshall seized her wrist and rotated her arm while stepping behind her. He twisted her arm and held it there.

     “Police brutality! Help!” she screamed. She turned, and with her free hand clubbed the marshal on the side of his head with one her meaty fists. He collapsed to the floor like a cow at a slaughterhouse.

      The woman lunged across the table at Tom, her hands reaching for his neck.

     “Hey! Leave my Dad alone!” October yelled.

     The woman stopped, and turned to look at October and Phoenix.

     “I must have TV!” the fact woman snarled.

     “Who cares about TV?” Phoenix yelled. “Our mother got turned to salt.”

     The woman laughed, the motion making her entire body ripple and jiggle. She stood up.

     “I used your mother to flavor my eggs,” she said, and she waved her hand in front of her own face. When she took it away, all were shocked to see that her eyes were lava red.

     “We must have television. Our race requires it,” she said, her voice lapsing into a deep, guttural growl.

     “There is no more TV,” Becky heard herself say. “The aliens destroyed it.”

     “You are wrong,” the woman croaked. “The city is not gone. It is only hiding. And he controls the prison doors!” she pointed at Tom.

     Becky drew her pistol, chambered a round and thumbed off the safety. Her hand was shaking as she pointed the barrel at the big woman. “I don’t know what you are, lady,” she said, “But you need to back off, right now.”

     The red-eyed woman struck, her hand darting out to seize the gun. She had it in her hand before Becky even knew what had happened. The woman sneered at the pistol and crushed it in her hand.

     “Get down!” said a voice from behind her. Becky froze. Tom’s eyes went wide and he dived to the side. Becky turned to see Big Mike holding one of his guns. She didn’t know what kind it was, but it was big and black and scary-looking and she hoped it would stop this—thing. 

     Becky tried to run, but it seemed like everything was moving in slow-motion and it took forever for her to move out of the way. Then there was a noise like a jackhammer exploding in her ears and she was on the floor. The echo reminded her of the time that Luis had dropped a whole load of metal trays on the linoleum in the kitchen, except this went on and on and she was thinking he has to run out of bullets soon, and don’t let the barrel overheat, Big Mike, you told me that; short, controlled bursts, remember? And then it was over except for the roaring in her ears. She turned over and struggled to her knees. Tom’s daughters were holding each other, their mouths open in screams, but she still couldn’t hear anything. Big Mike was changing magazines—what do you need that many bullets for, Mike? She has to be dead. Becky’s head swiveled to take in the sight of the woman, her dress riddled with red polka dots now, but she was still standing and her eyes were still burning like a comet.

     Becky grabbed one of Tom’s daughters’ hands in her own and pulled them towards the door. Behind her, the woman-thing screeched and Becky risked a glance back. The world split in two as Big Mike’s gun ripped again, and the monster still lurched forward. Pieces fell from her, hunks of fat and flesh. Her dress was stained almost completely with crimson. She reached for Big Mike’s gun. Becky burst through the door, the squirming, screaming kids in her arms.

     Phoenix was shouting something and punching Becky’s arm. The girl broke free and headed back to the door. Becky did the only thing that she could think of to make the girl stop.

     “Your dad’s dead,” Becky said, and hated herself for it, but it worked. Phoenix froze in place.  Becky didn’t know if it was true or not, but at this point, it didn’t matter. If she was wrong, she’d apologize later.

     “We have to go now, or we’ll die too,” Becky said. Becky fished her keys out of her slacks pocket and jingled them. “Let’s go,” she said. “Get in the car.”

     Both girls stood there.

     “NOW!” Becky shouted. Both of the girls snapped to attention and began to walk towards her. She ran to her car, her little blue Toyota Corolla and unlocked it. The girls piled in, still too shocked to even cry. 

     “Stay here. Don’t get out of the car. And whatever you do don’t turn around,” Becky told them.

     “Where are you going?” October asked, and her sweet face lined with grief put a sliver of glass in Becky’s heart.

     “Don’t leave us!” Phoenix yelled.

     “I’m going to help your dad. I’ll be right back,” Becky said. She locked the door and slammed it. Then she ran around to the trunk of the car and opened it. Inside was a stained, burlap bag crawling with flies. She opened the bag, and the stench nearly knocked her on her feet. Becky reached in the bag and seized something, pulling it out, while making sure the trunk lid was blocking her from the girls’ view.

     She held a human head.

     TO BE CONTINUED...