Realization Read online

  "Maybe he was telling the truth, Jansky," Marvin exclaimed, out of breath, addressing the dog. "Looks like he's hurt bad!" He took off his T-shirt and balled it up to staunch the considerable bleeding. However, when he pressed it onto the wound, he felt a hard, flat object directly under the skin. "What the hell is this?"

  Marvin probed the wound, and his fingers found the edges of the thing that had penetrated the skin in JB’s back. He yanked the bloody projectile out without hesitation and spared it a brief glance. The small, featureless, metallic disc was shaped like a pointed egg on its leading edge, and flat and rounded on the back. Marvin tossed it aside and went to press his shirt into the wound again, but there was no need. The bleeding had already stopped on its own.

  The next sequence of events occurred in quick succession, causing Marvin to doubt his own eyes. First, the wound in the young man's back quickly knitted itself together as he watched. Seconds later, his uninvited guest regained consciousness, and immediately rolled over and sat up, seemingly good as new. At the same time, a strange, shining cloud emerged from the corpse of the dead alien. It resembled a plume of sparkling smoke as it swiftly drifted over to his unwelcome visitor. Then as Marvin watched, the vaporous emanation appeared to be wholly absorbed into the young man's body. More surprisingly, the young man was paying no attention to that, almost as if such a thing was a routine occurrence.

  JB, calmly got to his feet, deftly avoiding the large log still hanging overhead and studied the remains of the alien. He watched impassively as its body continued to rapidly decompose and dissolve away, like ice melting in the morning sun.

  "Was that the other means y'all were talkin' 'bout?" JB asked, pointing to the log as he watched the last of the alien's remains evaporate.

  "Worked didn't it?" Marvin replied. "Now, suppose you tell me what just happened," Marvin said, one hand on the shotgun at his side.

  "Like I was sayin', I ain't no alien. Fact o' the matter is, them is lookin' t' get me on 'count of what I got inside me. That thing it shot me with, made 'em stop workin'. Figure it was fixin' t' kill me... Or worse.'"

  Marvin cocked his head, giving JB an appraising stare. "Is that so?"

  JB noted Marvin wasn't fazed in the least by the alien's appearance, so he asked, "Y'all seen them things before?"

  "Yes... A long time ago, but I knew they'd be coming back. That's why I'm ready. We've got an old score to settle."

  "Well, it ain't with me," JB said. "Y'all nearly killed me with that there trap!”

  "An' I still might. Depends on what you say next. How do I know you're not one of them, trying to win my confidence?"

  "Y'all saw what happened. Them is trying real hard to take me down, an' they probably would'a done it, 'cept for you an' your dog.” JB gave Marvin a sharp look and added, “But why would y'all think they'd be comin' after you?"

  "That's my business!” Marvin snapped.

  "If y'all say so. But they weren't interested in y'all were they?"

  Marvin stood silently while the big, black Lab came over and sat down at his feet. Still eyeing JB suspiciously he said, "How the hell did you manage to get a hold of alien technology?"

  "Long story short, I ran over one of them aliens in the road, an' the next thing I know a whole mess o' little critters are all inside me. But, the thing is, they fixed me up… In ways you can't imagine," JB said. He looked Marvin straight in the eye and added, "Crazy part is, I'm a lot more human now than I was before them things got in me."

  "So first, they shoot you with that thing to neutralize the tech in your body..." Marvin said, pointing to the blood-stained metal object lying on the ground. "Then what?"

  "Don't know. I reckon the aliens are after my Sawbonites. Every time I kill one o’ them, more of them little critters join up with me.”

  “Is that what I just saw happen? You absorbing the alien’s tech?”

  “Yes, sir. Don’t know why, but in my body, they make me harder to kill than even them aliens are.” He paused, not knowing just how much information he should share. But at this point, he didn't think it mattered, so he kept on talking. “I think the other reason they’re after me is to find out how it is that I can do plenty of other stuff with 'em that they can't. It's the only reason I've managed t' stay alive this long."

  Marvin took a long sideways glance at his dog, who had cocked its head and returned the look with its tongue lolling out the side of its mouth. He said, “Well, Jansky here thinks you're alright. I guess I'll go with that... For now. You got a name?"

  "Jim Bob Tucker... My friends call me JB."

  "Well JB, let’s get you inside and see what you're all about. I think you should clean up first, ‘cause you look like shit."

  CHAPTER THREE

  Bits and Pieces

  THE INSIDE OF Mad Marvin’s house was as strange as he was. The entire place was lined with aluminum foil. From top to bottom, the walls and ceilings were covered entirely with it. Typical of older structures on the island, the house was small; divided into two bedrooms, and a spacious front room living area that included a tiny, but serviceable kitchen.

  The furnishings were sparse, and aside from the cracked leather couch and recliner, the front room was dominated by stacks of odd, home-made electronic equipment, supporting several television screens of varied vintages. There was a long workbench that ran the length of the far wall. On it, a large, round, tube TV sitting atop a bare, steel chassis was displaying a black screen with a single horizontal line running across it.

  “That, right there,” Marvin said, pointing to it, “was how Jansky and I knew you were coming.”

  “I don’t see nothin’,” JB replied, eyeing the screen.

  “Naturally… It’s set up to scan the outside perimeter only. When you showed up, it was goin’ crazy. Like I told you, you’re broadcasting a pretty strong signal.” He gestured to the tinfoil lined walls. “But, now that you’re inside my Faraday cage, your signal is completely blocked.”

  “You mean, them aliens chasin’ me can’t tell where I am?”

  “As long as you stay in here, you’re safe from detection,” Marvin said. He had retrieved the objects left behind by the alien after it evaporated and dumped them onto the workbench. “Now let’s take a look and see what these gizmos do.” He shoved aside several piles of tools and hardware that were haphazardly arranged on a large table so he could line up the devices, including the one he had extracted from JB’s wound.

  “I wouldn’t get too close to this, if I were you,” Marvin warned. “It might disable the tech that’s protecting you.”

  “You mean, my Sawbonites…” JB offered.

  “That’s what I heard you call ‘em,” Marvin chuckled, as he sat down, pulling the wooden chair closer to the workbench. “I suppose that’s as good a name as any. But if I were to hazard a guess, I think they’re probably nano-bots of some sort.”

  Marvin turned the device over and around on the table, looking at it closely.

  “Y’all mean, tiny robots, right?”

  Marvin nodded as he concentrated on sorting through the alien objects.

  “Well, I ain’t worried none. I’ve never seen any of the stuff they leave behind keep working after they die,” JB said confidently.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure. I’ve seen some notable exceptions… Including your nano-bots,” Marvin replied. He picked up the device that the alien had been handling before it was killed by the sharpened log. Marvin pushed and prodded at various parts of it, but nothing happened. He placed it into a vice on the workbench and took a large, electric drill out of a drawer. After donning a pair of safety glasses, he attempted to drill into it but only succeeded in breaking three bits until he gave up.

  “I’m disappointed, but I can’t say I’m surprised,” he said, as he took the object out of the vice. “Completely non-functional.” JB saw his hands were slightly shaking as he threw the device into a nearby trashcan.

  Marvin gave him a severe look and asked, “Which begs
the question… How did your Sawbonites, your nano-bots keep on functioning after the alien you ran over died? What about the one outside? What do you suppose it is about you that makes that happen?”

  “I don’t got any answers for none o’ that. Maybe luck, or maybe they jus’ picked me…”

  “You know, that’s as good an explanation as any. If your nano-bots are as smart as you think they are… Maybe they did pick you.”

  JB thought on that for a bit. It sounded possible, but it still made no sense as to why alien robots would pick him in the first place. If there were a reason, he would probably never know what it was. However, there was something reassuring about being able to have a discussion regarding these things with the old man. These were things he could never talk about with anyone else. It was becoming more evident to him that while Marvin might be a little eccentric, he was more than knowledgeable on the subject of aliens.

  “You know son; you might want to think about what will happen if your nano-bots become smarter than you are.”

  JB had never considered that before, and he wondered what it could mean going forward. He made a move to sit down on the couch, but Marvin stopped him with an upraised hand. “Whoa! I know this isn’t the Taj Mahal, but you’re not sitting on my couch like that! You know, you really need a shower and a change of clothes. You look like you’ve been crawling through the dirt and you don’t smell too good either.” He motioned to JB to follow him. “I think I’ve got some clothes that might fit you, so why don’t you go on and clean up,” He said, opening the door to the bathroom. “We’ll continue playing twenty questions after you make yourself presentable.”

  The bathroom was small but tidy. When JB looked at himself in the mirror, he realized just how filthy he was. He was caked with the dust, dirt, and grime he had accumulated outrunning cave-ins and escaping through the underground tunnels. His jeans and shirt were a total loss too. No wonder Marvin thought he wasn’t human.

  The hot shower was almost a religious experience. JB hardly noticed when Marvin stepped in for a moment to place a change of clothes and a shaving kit on the closed lid of the nearby toilet. Twenty minutes later, he walked out of the bathroom transformed. The jeans were a good fit for his six-foot-six-inch frame, although the pant legs were too short by an inch. The tee-shirt sported a Grateful Dead logo from a concert in the nineteen seventies. From the deep creases in the clothes, it was evident that they had been a drawer for a long time.

  “The clothes belonged to my son,” Marvin said from the kitchen as JB emerged from the bathroom. “I thought they’d fit you alright.”

  “I’m much obliged,” JB said. “I hope he won’t mind.”

  “No, he won’t mind,” Marvin replied dismissively. “Not anymore.”

  He took it from the inflection in Marvin’s voice that this particular topic of discussion was a painful one, and resolved to avoid the subject in the future. JB knew that some things were better left behind forever. Of late, he was wrestling with his own demons from the past… The bits and pieces of long forgotten memories that were randomly and vividly bubbling up unbidden into his consciousness. Whether it was the deliberate work of his Sawbonites or a sign that his brain had now become fully functional, he didn't know. He only wished it would stop.

  The doors to the bedrooms were open, and as he walked past them, he paused briefly to look inside. The one where Marvin slept appeared neatly kept, and he noticed a picture on the nightstand that looked like it was taken many years ago. It showed a much younger Marvin, his wife and two young children, a boy and a girl. They were all posed in front of a canvas backdrop painted with a seaside landscape, looking very happy. The souvenir photo was probably taken on a family vacation, as the dull gold lettering on the bottom of the picture read: "Cancun 1952".

  In contrast, the second bedroom was a complete mess, with piles of boxes and gutted electronic equipment strewn everywhere. There were torn scraps of concert posters on the walls, but it seemed that no one had occupied the room for a very long time. JB continued down the short hallway to the kitchen and sat himself down at the small dinette table. Marvin was standing at the stove, hovering over a cast-iron skillet.

  "I thought I'd fix us some lunch if that's okay with you," Marvin said.

  "That's awesome," JB replied. "I'm greatly obliged. Thank you."

  "No worries. I think coming close to death gives a person an appetite," Marvin quipped as he unwrapped a package of butcher paper.

  “So how is it that y’all know so much ‘bout aliens?” JB asked, thinking the direct approach was best considering the circumstances.

  “I’ve had a run in or two myself, in fact…” Marvin didn't finish the sentence. He was facing the counter with his back to JB, the opened package in front of him.

  “How so?” JB prodded, puzzled at the old man's sudden silence.

  Marvin didn’t reply. Nor did he move. After several seconds had passed, he asked the question again. When Marvin didn't respond, JB got up from the table and went over to where the old man stood at the counter, still motionless. Marvin's features had changed dramatically. His eyes, that mere minutes ago had plainly radiated intelligence and presence of mind, were now unfocused; his expression was blank, and his features were slack. It was if a shade had been pulled down over the window to his consciousness. Marvin looked as though he had become frozen mid-way in the act of preparing the hamburger. He was present physically, but for all intents and purposes, he was no longer in the room.

  The frying pan was beginning to smoke on the stove. After JB turned off the flame, he put his hand on the old man’s shoulder and gave it a little shake. “Marvin, are y’all okay?” He asked, and waved his hand in front of Marvin’s unseeing eyes. The response he got was both surprising and unnerving. Marvin, in a voice so weak it was nearly unrecognizable said, “Fine, Jeffery, I’m fine.”

  JB had no idea of what to do next. He was still processing the shocking change that had come over the man. His first thought was to shake the man a bit harder to try and snap him out of it, but he reconsidered, as it might do more harm than good. Meanwhile, Jansky had slunk into the kitchen as though he sensed something was wrong.

  Marvin was beginning to look shaky on his feet, so JB was relieved when the old man allowed himself to be led over to the big recliner in the front room. He sat down mechanically, his expression was still blank, seemingly unaware of anything other than the chair beneath him.

  The abrupt change in Marvin was an unexpected development and a significant disappointment. Minutes ago, he had appeared to JB as someone who might have provided many of the answers he had been looking for. But now, JB found himself once again questioning the man’s sanity.

  He looked down at Marvin, who had now closed his eyes and seemed to be fast asleep in the chair. Despite his misgivings, JB was hungry and decided to continue making lunch before he did anything else. He hoped Marvin was right about the tin foil shielding… If so, he was safe for the time being. With that in mind, he retreated into the kitchen area and resumed preparing the hamburger. While the patties he made were frying in the pan, he scrounged around the kitchen looking for plates and hamburger buns. He figured that after he finished eating, he would hightail it out of there, Faraday cage or not. His life was complicated enough.

  As he went through the cupboards, he saw a dog-eared and dusty photograph pinned onto the inside of one of the kitchen cabinets. It was a young man, wearing a Vietnam era military uniform. Underneath it, hanging from the same pushpin, was a set of well worn military ID tags. JB laid down the plates he had just found and went over to examine them.

  Underneath the military ID number was the name, Sgt. Jeffery Allan Keene. JB glanced over at Marvin, still asleep in the chair and immediately made the connection with the brief conversation they had earlier. Some wounds never heal, he thought. On that very subject, he considered himself an expert. Something else came to mind, which was the possibility that he might have triggered Marvin’s episode by bringing
the matter up. There wasn't much he could do about that now, so JB continued his search for hamburger related items.

  He couldn't find any buns, but there were bottles of catsup and mustard in the sparsely provisioned refrigerator as well as a jar of sliced pickles. He put the condiments out on the table and rustled up a couple of plates for the hamburger patties and reluctantly went to wake Marvin up to eat, not knowing what to expect, but hoping for the best. He was somewhat relieved when he found the old man sitting in the chair, awake with his eyes open.

  Marvin acknowledged JB when he approached, but he still seemed confused, still lacking the lucidity he had displayed earlier. Fortunately, he understood enough to get out of the recliner and shuffled slowly over to take a seat at the dinette table.

  JB sat down with him and said, "Don'tcha want some catsup with that? I couldn't find any hamburger buns,"

  Marvin shook his head weakly and used his fork to cut the hamburger patty.

  "Y'all okay now?"

  "I'll be fine in a while," Marvin said in a faint voice. "Just an aftereffect."

  "Whatcha mean, 'aftereffect?'"

  Marvin didn't reply, and despite JB's efforts to engage him in further conversation, the old man remained silent while he slowly ate. JB had only taken a few bites of his overcooked hamburger before Jansky came over to the table and looked at him imploringly. JB figured maybe the dog was hungry too.

  “Hungry?" He asked the dog. "Don’t suppose y’all can show me where your food’s kept?” He surely wasn’t expecting an answer. But, surprisingly and without missing a beat, the dog walked over to the broom closet next to the refrigerator and used his nose to open it.

  “Well, I’ll be!” JB said as he got up from the table to retrieve the bag of dog food inside. “Y’all are one smart doggie, ain’t ya.”

  Jansky gave him a canine smile, extending his tongue just enough to convey his satisfaction as JB filled the empty bowl he found near the back door. Somehow feeding the dog brought back a painful memory he had long since tried to forget. But now it flooded back, with a clarity afforded by his Sawbonites and his rebuilt brain.