Invaders From Mars by Ray Garton Page B

be back for him in five minutes.” She turned and stalked down the hall, calling behind her, “Five minutes!”
    Linda came inside, closed the door, and sighed.
    David was pacing the floor, his fingers wiggling nervously at his sides, his eyes wide with fear.
    “David, David,” Linda said gently, “relax. It’s okay. Just relax.”
    “But you don’t understand!” David panted.
    “What? Understand what?” She took his hand and led him to a chair. “Sit down, David, and tell me. What don’t I understand?”
    He sat in the chair and stared at her, fidgeting, his mouth open.
    Leaning on her desk and facing him, Linda said, “David, whatever you tell me stays in this room.”
    David searched her face for a hint of deception, wanting desperately to trust her, but afraid to take that chance. There was only one way he could tell for sure . . .
    “You know, I’m here to help, David,” she assured him with a smile. “I mean, I’m a nurse and I’m supposed to say that, I know, but I mean it. I really do.”
    David chewed his lip, looking into her eyes. Her smile seemed genuine, heartfelt, but still . . .
    He took in a deep breath. “First . . . can I see the back of your neck?”
    Linda’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “The back of my . . .” Puzzled, she turned her head and lifted her shiny blond hair from her shoulders.
    Perfect, unblemished white skin.
    David was so happy he almost laughed.
    “All right,” he said.
    David’s story went on longer than she’d expected. He spoke fast, gesturing with his hands, his eyes wide and his body tense. She had to slow him down a few times, but it never worked. Linda tried hard to look attentive and not register the amusement she was feeling, tried not to look as if he were telling her a joke. When he finally got to the frog’s legs hanging out of Mrs. McKeltch’s mouth, she could not stifle a giggle.
    “Eating a frog?” she asked.
    He nodded.
    “Well,” she sighed. She leaned forward, rubbing her thighs absently, trying to choose her words carefully. “I don’t know, David. That’s some story. You realize that, don’t you?”
    “It’s not a story!”
    Be understanding, she thought. “A UFO lands in back of your house and puts something in your dad’s and mom’s necks, then gets the police and your teacher and your friend Heather and her father and . . .” She shook her head slowly, thinking about his tale for a second. “How did it get Mrs. McKeltch?” she asked with a frown.
    “She said the frogs came from Copper Hill. She must’ve gone there and . . . they got her.”
    She sat up straight on the desk, locked her elbows, and pressed her palms down on the edge of the desktop.
    He looked so sincere, so desperate to be believed.
    “David,” she said, “I want to believe you. I really do, but—”
    “Then why don’t you?” David asked so forcefully that it almost brought him to his feet.
    “It’s just so farfetched. Not that I don’t believe in UFOs, because I do.”
    “You do?”
    “Well . . .” She hesitated, wondering if she should have said that. If she told him about the thing she’d seen in the sky one night six years ago, he might even be more upset if she disbelieved his story. But, having brought it up, she decided to go on. “It was late at night. I was driving back after an evening with friends. This was in Oregon several years ago. I saw this light over the highway, slowed down, and looked out the window and I saw this . . . I don’t know, something up in the sky.” She shrugged.
    “What’d it look like?”
    “Like a . . . well, a glowing Brillo pad,” she said and laughed. “But David, what would you think if someone told you the story you’ve just told me?”
    “I’ve believe him!” he said without hesitation.
    “You would, huh? And why is that?”
    David sat forward in his chair, put his hand over hers, and squeezed. “ ’Cause he wouldn’t lie,” he said earnestly.
    His face was full of energy; his lips