Chapter: 19

Truth or Dare

"I should have trusted my gut," Dan Mangan admitted with a shake of his head. "I had a hunch something was up when Mr. Maypenny wanted those hickory logs split this morning. The job could have waited until the weather cooled off a bit. But when I suggested it, he got testy with me and insisted I do it today."

After they'd grabbed a bite to eat, Trixie and her friend had pulled the Belden's Adirondack chairs into the shade by the garage to talk.

"I'd sure like to know what's going on at the cornfield," the young man went on. "I know it's risky, but I'm tempted to sneak back out there. The ship we saw the other night would have dwarfed the center circle, so the one you saw this morning has to be a different one, Trix."

"That's what I've been thinking, too," the musing girl replied. "The U.F.O. on Saturday could have been a mother ship, and this one's a shuttle or scout ship of some kind. If you want to check it out, I'll go with you. But I warn you, Dan, at least three of the Wheeler's pesky guards are keeping watch over things. Plus, I'm pretty sure Mart sensed I was there before. So he'll be on high alert."

Dan stretched back and looked up at the cloudless blue sky. "Yeah, if I do, it's probably best if go alone and wait until dark," he admitted. "But who knows, we might be out of here by then, Trix. And I think we ought to come up with some kind of plan on the off chance we have to split."

Trixie found herself at a loss for words. It was hard enough swallowing the idea of running away, let alone trying to figure out where the teenagers might go.

"Honey says Tom and Regan have been acting normal enough," she said after a time. "What if we explain to them what's going on?"

The dark-haired young man laughed. "I don't see Uncle Bill believing us," he said. "Or Tom, for that matter. Do you?"

"Maybe Tom?" Trixie admitted sadly. "He believed Celia when she told him about the U.F.O. And with the two of them living in the big house right now, maybe they'd let us hide out in the red trailer for a while?"

Dan shook his head. "That chance is awful slim," he said. "And with the heightened security around Manor House right now, it's pretty much out of the question, anyway, I'm afraid."

"Well, what if we camped out at old Van den Boogaard cabin you were telling me about?" Trixie suggested. "I know it's chancy too, but we could stay there short term, couldn't we?"

The serious young man had considered the camouflaged dwelling as well. But he knew as soon as the teens turned up missing, there'd be search parties scouring the game preserve for them. But Dan had a better idea.

"If we have no other choice, the cabin's an option," he told his friend. "At least for overnight. But I think the thing to do is head straight to Ted's place. He lives in that octagon house out past Mr. Sanderson's."

Trixie gasped. "Earth Science teacher Ted Brown?" she asked.

"Yep," Dan replied. "He's a stout Ufologist. And you said yourself that Ted was at Lytell's buying foil, so Mr. Brown's probably still got his mind about him. He'll believe us and put us up. Ted may be off the grid, but I'm willing to bet he's hooked into a network of like-minded friends who'd be happy to lend us a hand too."

Trixie let out a deep breath. She knew Dan's plan made a lot of sense. And here along, she'd been convinced that Mr. Brown, and the other baked potato heads, were the creepy ones. Now she wondered if she'd been too quick to judge.

"Sounds like that's the thing to do," she said. "But what about, Honey?"

Dan didn't want to tell his friend that he doubted that the lamb-like girl would agree to go with them. Honey wouldn't dessert her family until she'd give up all hope. And that might be too late. So the less their friend knew, the better it'd be for all of them.

"We'll stop and try to convince her to come along – if we get the chance," he replied. "But we don't dare tell her where we're going, Trix. Understand?"

Trixie did and was nodding sadly when an all too familiar black sedan turned off Glen Road and headed down the Belden's tree-lined lane. The car, as before, had its windows rolled up. And its tinted glass merely reflected the passing landscape rather than reveal the identities of the shady passengers crouching inside.

"That's the car that picked up Mart and Bob this morning," she told Dan rising to her feet. "You ready for this?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," the young man admitted as he took up his best friend's side.

Concealing themselves in the deeper shadows, Trixie and Dan watched as the suspicious vehicle dropped off its fiendish charges out front and then stealthily crept away. The monster, Trixie had once called her middle brother, was now headed toward the house with the creature posing as Bobby Belden struggling to keep up with him.

"Well now, my conniving alien friend, I'd say that went exceedingly well," Trixie overheard pod-person Mart proclaim as he rubbed his hands together with devilish delight. "By this time tomorrow, all of Sleepyside should be aware of our artful interstellar invasion."

As Dan jerked his head back with disbelief, Trixie let out a gasp so loud that it bordered on a scream. So it was true! All of the horrible unthinkable things that she'd feared were true!

But even more alarming was the fact that the trembling girl had just alerted the enemy that she knew of their evil plot.

Now heading the bracing pairs' way, the extraterrestrial impostures grew grim and stepped up their pace. The smaller of the 'boys' was almost running, and as he drew closer, Trixie noticed an ugly purple bruise covering the side of his neck. Oh, her poor little brother! At least Bobby hadn't gone down without a fight. And neither would she! Beldens never gave up.

"Go to the house," pod-person Mart instructed his companion with a knock of his head. Angrily, he stared down the two unmasked spies as he added, "I'll join you once I deal with the interlopers."

As the embodier of Mart held out an accusing finger at Trixie, Dan stepped in front of the teenage girl and positioned his hand over his pocket.

"You were out at the crop circle this morning, weren't you?" the crew-cut being snarled as he continued to move his "sister's" way.

Dan drew out his wicked weapon and popped its flashing blade. "Stop right there, Space Boy," he ordered. "That's far enough."

In the same instant, the mirror of Mart jumped back and then hooted, "Hey easy, pal! What's with the knife? I just don't want Miss Bigmouth blathering to the whole town about the photo-shoot today."

"Photo-shoot?" the darker-haired boy replied with cautious surprise.

"Yeah? Don't tell me she hasn't told you yet?" the other "boy" went on.

As Trixie began to speak up, Dan motioned with his empty hand for her to remain silent. Then, without lowering his switchblade, the armed young man said, "Well, maybe she did, and maybe she didn't. But you've got my attention. So why don't you just start at the beginning and tell me how this so-called photo-shoot came to be, huh? But keep it simple, you get me, Mart?"

Trixie could feel her "brother's" nervousness as he nodded and shuffled a few steps backward. "Sure, sure," he stammered. "But it might be easier if you put down the knife. So what do you say, good buddy?"

Dan laughed menacingly and then stabbed at the empty airspace in front of him a couple of times. "Nah, I think I'll keep it where it is, for now," he replied. "Now I want that story," the gristly boy repeated.

The look on "Mart Belden's" face almost made Trixie want to laugh. It was a mix of fear and utter confusion. And as her near-twin glanced her way, he asked nervously, "Everything OK around here, Trix?"

Trixie nodded. "Just tell him what he wants to know," she advised.

Running his fingers through the stubble he called hair, "Mart" said, "I guess it all started that night at Mr. Sanderson's. The guys and I were giving each other a hard time, and it turned into a game of Truth or Dare."

Trixie rolled her eyes and glanced over at Dan. Either the aliens "They" had just turned off the switch controlling Mart, or he'd never been under their influence in the first place. And she'd simply let her imagination run away with her.

At this point, it was pretty clear that this was none other than plain old Mart who was rambling on. And Truth or Dare sounded more up the alley of a gang of goon-ball pirates than it did of a ship full of advanced alien lifeforms. Perhaps things weren't making sense yet. But the embarrassingly relieved girl had a hunch they were about to.

"It all came about because I'd been boasting about my ingenious plan to sell photographs of a certain shop-keeping baked potato head to the Sleepyside Sun to earn some extra moolah. You know, in hopes of keeping the station wagon. And, Sir James and Brian, for some unfathomable reason, claimed to have grown weary of my chatter and told me that I either had to put my money where my mouth was or disclose the answer to a question, which let's just say, I prefer not to mention."

Dan laughed and gave Trixie a wink. Then he put his knife away. "Go on," he said, as Trixie let out a giggle.

"Well," the relieved boy replied, lightening up a bit, "James handed me his cell phone, and I proceeded to call up Paul Trent. I hadn't expected to find him working that time of night, but he was. And to make a long story a tad shorter, he proved quite intrigued to see my photos."

"So yesterday afternoon, he picked you up before ball practice?" Trixie guessed.

"Indeed so," Mart went on. "But that's putting the cart before the horse, dear sister. For while we were making the arrangements, the hot-for–a-scoop Mr. Trent kept inquiring if Moi had any pictures of extraterrestrials, to which I sorrily had to reply nae. However, the hungry reporter kept offering to dish out big bucks should I, let's just say, come across any."

Mart's story was growing longer by the minute, and shade or no shade, it was awfully hot out. So Trixie suggested the teens take the conversion to the kitchen to get something cool to drink and sit down.

Once the teenagers were settled in with tall glasses of refreshing iced tea at hand, Mart went on.

"So, as you can imagine," he told the anxious pair, "by the time Mr. Trent and I hung up, my companions were rolling with laughter. And it was then that James facetiously suggested that we dress up young Robert as a violet alien and take pictures of him out at the crop circle, to sell to our friend Paul, as a prank. I, of course, was enthusiastically up for the challenge. However, while Brian was indeed entertained by the notion, our eldest brother felt it might be best to run the idea past Mr. Lynch before implementation."

The blurry picture Mart had been zooming in on was finally beginning to come into focus when Bobby wandered in.

"I can't gets this purple stuffs offs me," he said testily, holding out a dripping washcloth to his sister. "I needs holp. Ohs, and I wants my radio backs!" he added, kicking her chair leg. "I knows yous gots it. And Brian saids if I cleaned up my rooms without bein' tolds too, Moms might gives it back to mes. Only yous tooked it. And that's stealin'!"

Trixie winced. Now she understood why the little boy had been stalking her – and the reason he'd been digging things out from under his bed. Going to the sink, she wrung out the wet cloth and then added a drop of Moms' grease-cutting dish soap to it.

"It's not really your radio; it's Brian's," the young lady reminded Bob as she rubbed away the spot of makeup on the child's neck, which she'd thought to be a bruise. "Besides, I was only borrowing it. But if you go upstairs and be a good little boy, I'll get it for you as soon as I finish talking Mart. Okey dokey, pokey?"

Bobby crossed his arms and glowered at his placating sister. "I'm nots a littl' boy," he sneered. "Im's a mean, manseating, aliens. And that means I eats girls too. Sos yous better gets that radio soons, or I'll eats yous up. I'lls be waitin'."

As the youngster stomped off, Dan let out a chuckle. "At least you were right about one member of your family being a nasty spaceman," he whispered in Trixie's ear.

Grinning, the reddened girl elbowed the boy in his ribs to hush him, as Mart said, "Now, let's see, where was I? Oh yes, Brain suggested we call Mr. Lynch."

"Which I'm assuming you did, and he was all for the idea?" Dan rushed the long-winded boy.

"Well, yes and no," Mart replied, bringing an exasperated sigh from Trixie. His sister was impatient to get on with the story too.

"While Mr. Lynch did find the notion of scamming Mr. Trent quite delightsome, he was also concerned that said photos, if printed, might incite fear into certain unsuspecting newspaper readers. The fellows and I were awaiting his final decision when Mr. Lynch received another call and indicated that he'd have to get back to us."

Trixie got up to fetch the pitcher of tea from the fridge. "OK," she said, refilling her brother's glass. "Let's fast forward this. So Mr. Lynch calls you back, and….?"

Not one to be rushed, Mart went on, "So it was slightly after one am when Jim received the long-awaited jingle on his tele'. We'd just finished expelling an agglomeration of…."

"Mart, we don't have all day," Dan warned him. "Do I have to pull out my knife again?"

Trixie's brother resolutely shook his head no but only proceeded to talk faster. "So Mr. Lynch, who'd been up burning the midnight oil, revealed that he'd been on the phone with none other than Sergio Zabatino of Way Beyond. Sergio, who's been out of the country, hadn't yet heard about Sleepyside's U.F.O. sighting and Crop Circle. But once he had, he noted to Mr. Lynch that he'd be a fool to pass up the opportunity to film a show here."

Mart paused for a moment to let the mind-blowing news soak in, then added with a snicker, "Sergio is apparently 'way beyond' happy to help out his old community."

"Really?!" Trixie exclaimed with disbelief as she retook her seat.

"You've got to be joking?!" Dan added, nearly bounding from his.

Mart grinned. "No jest," he said. "And it turns out that Mr. Zabatino – Sergio - is a really great guy. You see, Mr. Lynch told him about our idea to pass off falsified E.T. shots to the press, and Sergio thought it was a riot and suggested we run with it. Only with one minor adjustment. Mr. Zabatino recommended we use the photos as a publicity stunt for his show.

He offered to send down props, a makeup crew, one of his investigators, and a cameraperson. They'd shoot a quick commercial clip for the Way Beyond episode while I'd photograph the whole shebang. Once finished, I was to leak the story and sell my pictures to Paul Trent, explaining it's supposed to be hush-hush that Sergio and his whole production team will be in town next week filming an investigation.

Everyone comes out a winner that way. The Sun gets a breaking story that generates excitement in the community. The show gets free publicity. And the Bob-Whites add more dollars to the coffer."

"And that's what went down this morning?" Dan asked with a chuckle.

Mart took a sip of his drink and nodded. "Affirmative. Sergio's makeup and costume people dressed up Bobby and Mr. Lynch's two boys based on Mr. Donahue's violet alien description. They then posed the miniature grape ghoulies in front of a titanic inflatable starship. The U.F.O.'s pretty cheesy when you get right on top of it. But from a distance and through the camera lens, you'd swear it was the one we saw the other night. It was a real kick."

Mart brought up one of the pictures on the back screen of his camera and showed it to the highly interested pair.

"The next step is to talk to Paul Trent," the amateur photographer went on, as Trixie and Dan laughed at the pretty convincing shot of the three, one-horned-aliens striking a silly pose beside the giant balloon.

"And Jim's agreed to swing me by the Sun before the game today. Yesterday, Paul snapped up three of my pictures at twenty-five dollars apiece. One of Mr. Lytell and two of the crop circle. And I'm sure he'll be drooling to get his hands on these, too. So I'll offer them for fifty dollars each. What Mr. Trent doesn't buy, Mr. Lynch plans to use for T-Shirts, advertising posters, and whatnot."

"That's pretty far-out," Dan chuckled as his friend opened the apple-shaped cookie jar sitting in the middle of the table and pulled out a caky zucchini cookie. "And mighty exciting too," the dark-haired boy added, taking one of the moist morsels for himself.

"To say the least," Mart replied. "And if you think we're excited, you should see our mom and dad. They're acting like a couple of goofy kids.

In fact, yesterday, when Moms was having trouble locating canning jar lids, she finally broke down and tried Mega-Mart. She was there shopping when Mrs. Lynch phoned to give her the news about Sergio's visit. I guess Mrs. Lynch is planning a welcoming shindig for Mr. Zabatino and Mr. Brandio at the country club, and she asked Moms if she'd like to help organize it.

Anyway, as the ladies were hanging up, Dad beeped in to tell Moms not only about Way Beyond but also about how Mr. Lynch has been so impressed with the job that Dad's been doing that he wants him on full-time, permanently – and Mr. Lynch isn't taking no for an answer. Dad's going to be earning more than double what he currently does at the bank. And Moms, well, she got so excited about everything that she went on a shopping spree. She even decided to bring home supper to celebrate. And Dad didn't even blink an eye! He's off on cloud nine somewhere."

Trixie slouched down in her seat and rested her head back. If she hadn't spent the entire evening before cowering in her room, listening to the radio, she probably would have known all this. Anyway, Sergio's visit, along with her father's bump in pay, would definitely explain away some of her parent's odd behavior. Though likely not Brian and Jim's. Only the sheepish teen had a sneaking suspicion that she already knew what was behind the boys' craziness. And she decided to find out if her hunch was true.

Sitting back up, Trixie remarked offhandedly, "Gleeps, I sure am happy for Moms and Daddy. But you know what, dear brother? I'd like to hear more about that bird-brained Truth or Dare game you were telling us about. Were you the only victim, pray tell? Or did Brian and Jim get roped into the shenanigans too?"

As she'd been posing her question, Trixie's new best friend let out a chuckle. Dan didn't have to guess what Trixie was thinking. He'd been wondering it too.

Reaching for another cookie, Mart grinned from ear to ear. "It wouldn't be a very entertaining game with just one participant, now would it?" he laughed, taking a mouthful. "Once my turn was complete, I dared Jim to reveal what was in that mushy missile he sent hurtling your away during our big brainstorming session the other day, oh little one."

Trixie nearly knocked over her glass of tea. "You saw that?" she gasped.

"We all did," Dan informed her with a smirk. "And from the shade of pink your cheeks turned, we figured the note had to contain something pretty good."

Mart nodded as he polished off his snack. "Affirmative," he went on. "And as it turns out, it was the great captain himself who figured out the perfect way to get his first mate to divulge the juicy tidbit, too. Or so he thought."

Mart gave Dan a you're-gonna-love-this nudge with his elbow. "You know how Jim keeps harping on how glad he is that Mr. Wheeler wasn't there to witness the Sky Sleuth's maiden flight? And the way he claims the 'disaster' has left him unable to sleep? Well, Brian told Jim that if he didn't divulge what was in that letter, he'd have to invite not only his father to the next launch but also Mr. Brandio."

Trixie reached over and slapped Mart's hand as he again went for the cookie jar. "That's terrible!" she cried. "How could you do that to poor Jim?"

Both Mart and Dan snickered. "Easy," the crew-cut teen replied. "But worry not, little sister. Mr. Wonderful took the penalty, and your sordid skeleton is still hanging in its dusty cupboard. Only now, not only is Jim up at nights working on perfecting his rocket, but also studying orbital mechanics to impress Mr. Brandio."

Trixie folded her arm's across her chest, furious with her degenerate brothers. "Well, I hope Jim got Brian back good," she said.

"Oh yeah," Mart confessed. "Brian either had to tell us why he's been wearing that putrid cologne or stop shaving. I don't suppose I need to tell you which option he chose?"

Trixie relaxed and giggled. "No, I guess you don't," she said. "But we all know the only reason he does it is to impress Honey."

"Who's trying to impress Honey?" Brian asked, with a hint of concern, as he traipsed through the kitchen door carrying a newspaper.

Everyone started to laugh.

"Well shiver me timbers, if it isn't the scourge o' the high seas, hisself"," Dan snarled, as he pulled out a chair for his bewhiskered buddy. "Wha''d ye do, take a second job at the circus as the cur-faced lad?" No wonder Trixie had thought her brother was under alien mind control!

Giving the teasing young man a whack to the back of his head with the newspaper, Brian grumbled, "If I be ye, I wouldna be natterin' ye grubby ape. Ye don't look t' lovely yourself."

"Hey, I was out chopping wood in the heat this morning," Dan laughed. "What's your excuse?"

As Trixie got up to get the ole cap'n a glass o' tea, Brian winged the copy of the Sun across the table to Mart. "Check out this week's 'Friday-Fashion-Feature'," he told his anxious brother with a chuckle. Then, glancing back and forth between Trixie and Dan, Brian asked Mart cryptically, "Things go well this morning?"

Thumbing through the paper, Mart replied, "Like clockwork. But Super Snoop over there was on our tail before Bobby, and the Lynch twins made it back from wardrobe."

"That figures," Brian clucked, going for the ceramic apple. "Pretty big news, huh?" he added to Trixie and Dan.

But before either teen could reply, Mart began hee-hawing like a donkey. "If you think that's big news, then take a gander at this!" he cried.

As Trixie glanced over at the paper, she practically fell from her chair, laughing. For right smack dab in the middle of the page, in all of its black and white glory, was a picture of Mr. Lytell, running towards Belle's stable, donned in his tinfoil hat.

It was one of the priceless shots her sneaky brother had taken on the day the girls had gone to collect their jam money. And in this particular picture, Mart had artfully photographed the shopkeeper from behind, keeping Mr. Lytell's face and his store hidden from view.

Of course, Trixie knew that anyone who regularly frequented the shop would recognize not only where the anonymous picture had been taken, but also the identity of the man who was shielding his gleaming crown with his leather satchel. And how truly delectable it was! Trixie couldn't stop laughing - and it was mostly because she saw her own baked-potato-headed-self in the photo, dashing off into that dusky sunset of paranoia.

Begging Mart to read the brief article aloud, the temporarily blinded girl tried to wipe the tears from her eyes. Only it was useless. They just kept refilling. Oh, how silly she'd been to think her family and friends had been under alien mind control or were pod-people! And oh, what a relief it was to know that they weren't!

And so it was, after clearing his voice, that the middle boy dramatically complied to his sister's wishes.

"A Fall Fashion Preview?" Mart began by reading the title, which ended with a tongue-in-cheek question mark.

"Whether worn alone or under wrap, this fall, Sleepyside's most notable have taken to sporting jaunty aluminum hats. Locally dubbed, 'Baked Potato Heads', these busy-day worker bees, which range from executives to educators, have embraced the flashing wonders with flair and elegance. Not only is this raging trend eye-catching, but the metallic head-wear is also being touted to prevent hair loss as well as protect one against alien and/or government mind control. If you like what you see, and wish to join the fashion-forward parade, you can find instructions for making your own tinfoil chapeau in this Sunday's Do-It-Yourself Edition. Copies and supplies are available at Lytell's Country Store."

As Mart finished and carefully refolded the newspaper for his scrapbook, he went on to boast that the piece had been another of his "brainchildren". And that Paul Trent had simply printed it under his own pen-name.

"Oh Mart, why must you be so bad?!" Trixie choked. Her uncontrollable laughter had now been reduced to a hiccup of reoccurring giggles.

The smirking boy simply shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose it runs in the family," he told her with a wink. "However, I prefer to see my actions as retributive justice for the greedy man's insidious purloining of your raspberry preserves receipts. Besides, it's not all that bad, is it Trix? When was the last time you saw an advertisement for Mr. Lytell's store in the newspaper? "

Mart's sister had to think about that one. "Never, I guess," she admitted with a smile. "But I can tell you one thing. Honey and I had better be at Mr. Lytell's before he opens, Sunday. I have a feeling he's going to have a rush on newspapers."

Then, Trixie had a sobering thought. Her pretty friend was still up at Manor House, worrying that that "They" might be taking over the world!

"OK if I go call Honey and let her know Sergio Zabatino is coming to town?" she asked. "She's the only one of the Bob-Whites who hasn't heard about Way Beyond, yet." Whether the boys said yes or no, Trixie planned to call her friend no matter.

"I don't see why not?" Brian replied, getting nodded of agreement from Mart and Dan. "Just be sure you tell her mum's the word until the newspaper piece hits. Only you better hurry," he added as an afterthought. "I stopped by the clubhouse on my way home, to see if Jim still needed my help, and Chief Ogilvy was there. He'd just dropped in to tell Jim that the Wheelers plane was about to touch down, and he wanted him up at the house, pronto."

"They expecting some kind of trouble?" Dan asked, furrowing his brow.

"That was my impression Brian replied. "Mr. Ogilvy said Safe and Sound was only taking precautions. But he did go on to suggest we should tune into Channel 4 at three-thirty."