Chapter: 26
A Meeting of Minds
"Your father believes we'll all be able to fit in the station wagon with the rear seat up," Moms told Trixie as they sliced away at the mountain of cucumbers filling the kitchen sink. "He'd like to leave by six-fifteen if you think your friends will be ready by then?"
"Oh, they'll be ready," Trixie replied assuredly. She cleared her cutting board into a massive crock of brine, sitting on the counter, and then added impishly, "But gee, Moms, I was hoping we'd be taking two cars to the Town Hall Meeting tonight. I was looking forward to riding with Lead-foot Lydia in that zippy yellow sports car of hers."
Mrs. Belden put down her knife and handed her daughter another of the long green vegetables from the sink. The ladies were in the process of making freezer pickles, but the tested woman was beginning to wish she'd saved the task for another day. "I thought I told you and Brian earlier that was enough," she cautioned.
Trixie smirked and got back to work. Somehow, she just couldn't take her mother as seriously as she once had. Still, the musing young lady hadn't quite gotten used to the idea that commonsensical, home-loving Moms had once been a race-car-driving wild-child!
"Moms," Trixie said, after pondering this some more, "when the Bob-Whites were in his lab, Mr. Zabatino told Mart that I take after you. Why do you think that is? I mean, you and I are complete opposites? You're always so put together and feminine. I'm none of that stuff."
Mrs. Belden grinned and retied the strings on the oblivious girl's drooping apron. "I think we're much more alike than you know," she replied. "Who do you think you got that adventurous streak of yours from, hmm? Certainly not your father," Moms added with a laugh.
Trixie had to laugh too. "I guess I didn't," she admitted. "But you, Moms?"
Mrs. Belden nodded. "When I was your age, I was more of a tom-boy than you are, Trixie," she admitted. "In fact, I spent much of my free time with your great-grandpa, down at his filling station. He had a little shop off to one side, and the teenage boys would come in to get advice on their cars. That's how I got to know your father and his brother."
"Really?" Trixie said as she cut away at the cucumber on her chopping board. "I always figured you and Daddy met at school. Was Great Grampa Willy the one who taught you how to drive, Moms?"
Mrs. Belden had gone to the pantry and returned with a jar of mustard seed. Adding a few tablespoons of the spice to the pickling crock, she laughed. "He certainly was," she said. "And it gave your grandmother fits. She had her heart set on turning me into a proper young lady, you see."
Trixie giggled and added another batch of sliced chips to her mother's sweetly tangy mixture. "Sounds kind of like you and me," she commented. "I guess that means there's still hope that your ugly duckling will one day turn into a beautiful swan, huh, Moms?"
Moms' reply was a dead silence. Little did her daughter know, but one of Mrs. Belden's biggest fears was becoming her mother. Sometimes looking in the mirror was difficult.
"Trixie," she said, taking her daughter by both hands. "When you were born, you were the most beautiful duckling I'd ever laid eyes on. You still are. And you will always be. I don't want to turn you into a swan. Why would I? Ducks are every bit as beautiful as swans. Just look at the rainbow of colors in a wood ducks plumage, and tell me that isn't true? You are such a special duckling! I'm simply trying to help you as you grow into your feathers. And if I get carried away sometimes, I'm sorry. Your silly old mother duck doesn't do it intentionally."
"I know. You do it because you love me. And that makes me the luckiest duck on Earth," the truthful girl admitted.
Then, after hugging her mother, she added, "You know, Moms, when I first heard about the way you were when you were my age, I wasn't sure I liked it. But now I kind of do. You'll always be my 'Moms'. But now it's sort of like you're my friend, too. Does that make any sense?"
"It makes perfect sense," Moms said with a smile. "And I think that's pretty special. Don't you?"
Trixie agreed it certainly was, and after a time, Moms asked, "So, tell me. What do you plan to wear to the meeting tonight? I laundered your new sundress after your little sewer excursion."
Mrs. Belden's not-so-surprised daughter suppressed a smile. Trixie knew her mother was hinting that she should get dressed up since chances were good they'd all be on television. "Gleeps, I haven't really thought about it," she replied just for fun. "The courthouse doesn't have air conditioning. So it's bound to be pretty hot. What do you plan to wear, Moms? Your short-shorts?"
Moms took her dishcloth and tossed it hopelessly in the air. "Beatrix Belden," she scolded. "If I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times. I've never owned a pair of short-shorts in all my life!"
And then both ladies broke down laughing.
With the pickles in the fridge to stand overnight, and leftovers on the slate for dinner, Trixie and her mother sat down at the table for a breather. Brian, who'd just lost his third game of checkers to Bobby, would have to be leaving to pick up Mart at Mr. Sanderson's in about fifteen minutes. But before then, he wanted to ask his mother about the legend of Count Drac Van den Boogaard.
Pulling out the chair across from Trixie's, the curious teen posed his question. And Moms admitted that there was indeed such a tale. But it was nothing at all like Mr. Zabatino's movie. Apparently, Sergio had taken more than a few liberties.
"First off, there was never a 'Count Drac' Van den Boogaard," Mrs. Belden explained. "However, there was a 'Captain Caspar' Van den Boogaard. Sergio changed the name because he thought 'Caspar' sounded more like a friendly ghost than an evil vampire."
Trixie laughed. "That's just what I was thinking!" she cried. "And Caspar Van den Boogaard was a vampire, Moms?"
"Some people thought so," her mother went on. "Others believed he was a former pirate, who was on the run from mercenaries. But Caspar Van den Boogaard claimed he was nothing more than a retired sea captain. And he'd moved his family to the glen sometime in the seventeen hundreds to start an apple orchard to mill hard cider."
At the thought of apple cider, Moms got up for drinks and added, "The name Van den Boogaard means 'from the orchard', coincidentally."
"That's interesting," Brian confessed as he checked to see if Mart had emptied the cookie jar sitting on the table. Finding only a solitary morsel left, the well-mannered boy offered it to his sister.
As Trixie passed, Mrs. Belden went for her hidden stash in the cupboard. Handing the metal tin to her oldest boy, she said, "I must confess its odd story. And I imagine some of it's based on fact. But in those days, people were very superstitious. And shortly after the Van den Boogaard family had established their home here, it was reported that it rained stones from the sky. The local town's people took this as an omen of impending doom. And they blamed Captain Van den Boogaard."
"That seems pretty unfair," Brian remarked while munching away. "But why was he thought to be a vampire, Moms?"
"Well," Mrs. Belden said, retaking her seat. "Several days after the shower of stones, a mysterious black carriage was said to have visited Captain Van den Boogaard in the dead of night. A cloaked visitor with skin as white as snow, and a wide curving grin, was seen by a neighbor entering the home. Some say it was the Devil himself, others a creature of the undead. But after the visit, the captain's five children and wife took ill.
Having been summoned by the captain, the local doctor diagnosed the family with an unknown blood disease. They'd become feverish, weak, and had developed blistering ulcers on their bodies.
The captain was said to have been suffering too. And the physician reported seeing blood coming from the man's mouth. The doctor also claimed that he was paid for his services with odd ingots of gold, which some say Captain Van den Boogaard had smelted from his pirated horde.
As I heard it, and there are many versions of the tale, the entire family eventually slipped into deep comas and succumbed to the illness. They were buried in a cemetery behind their cabin. But the story doesn't end there. A short time after the captain was laid to rest, close neighbors began showing similar symptoms to the Van den Boogaards'. It was believed that the captain and his family members had become vampires and were rising from their graves at night to feed."
"So," Moms finish with a sigh, "a mob of local men, during daylight, exhumed the Van den Boogaards' bodies, decapitated them, and then reburied the remains. It was a common method thought to stop vampires in those days. After that, their land was said to be cursed, and the homestead was left to be reclaimed by nature."
Trixie shivered and reached for a cookie. "Gleeps, Mom," she said after taking a bite. "I like Mr. Zabatino's version of the legend much, much better! That's a horrible tale!"
"What's really horrible," Brian noted, with agreement, "is that the Van den Boogaards likely weren't vampires at all, Trix. They'd simply contracted some kind of illness that wasn't documented in medical books at the time. I think I'll do some research," he added. "Maybe I can discover what the family was suffering from. Any idea, Moms?"
As Mrs. Belden again rose, this time to wipe down the table, she shook her head. "I'm afraid not," she admitted. "But it's so sad. Life back then was hard and often too short. It's no wonder people believed that monsters and witches were behind the things they didn't understand."
Trixie put down her sugary snack. "Much like some people today think aliens are," she mused aloud. The idea had given the teenager food for thought -as if she didn't have enough on her plate to ponder already.
On the way to the Town Hall Meeting that night, Trixie repeated Moms' story to Honey and Dan. She was wedged between the two, in the very back seat of her father's station wagon, and the cautious girl kept her voice low so her baby brother, upfront, wouldn't overhear with those big ears of his. Trixie didn't need the child sleeping in her room tonight. She knew he'd be scared if he thought vampires had once roamed the valley.
Only Honey wished that Trixie had spared her too. When she'd heard her friend's story, Honey, who was now shivering, whispered, "Brr. And you say this home site is said to be on Daddy's property?"
"It sure is," Dan replied, his voice equally soft. "And I got a similar version of the legend from Mr. Maypenny over dinner tonight. Only in his account, the stones that fell from heaven were filled with the Devil's gold. And according to Mr. Maypenny, Captain Van den Boogaard discovered this, and he collected the riches and buried them on his property. But the Devil found out and came to collect what was rightly his in a cart pulled by black horses. But the captain denied having the gold, and the Devil warned him that if he were lying, a curse would fall on the Van den Boogaard family, and the Devil would claim the land for his own. That's part of the reason Mr. Maypenny believes the Mowing Devil made the crop circle," the young man added. "Mr. Maypenny thinks the evil-doer created it to remind people that the property is his."
"And so the plot thickens," Trixie remarked, shifting uncomfortably under her safety belt so as not to wrinkle her sundress. "I wonder if Captain Van den Boogaard was pirate? And if did bury gold on the property?"
"The story certainly does make it sound that way," Honey admitted. "But you sure won't catch me trying to dig for the treasure," she went on to declare. "Vampires, pirates, devils, aliens? What next? Why they're all the things of nightmares!"
Trixie indeed wondered what next? But unlike her more wary friend, she was becoming increasingly anxious to investigate the Van den Boogaard homestead. In fact, it was going to be all the eager teen could do to wait until October, when she and Dan planned to snoop around the deserted cabin. And Trixie hoped he hadn't changed his mind.
Giving Dan an elbow to the side, then a questioning smile, Trixie was relieved when the young man winked back. Yep, they were still on, and she couldn't be happier.
The crowd around the historic council building far surpassed anything Trixie had imagined. Most of the people wouldn't be attending the meeting. It was reserved for local eyewitnesses and their families. But tourists, and curiosity seekers, had turned out in droves, nonetheless, hoping to get a glimpse of the famous Sergio Zabatino and maybe their faces on camera.
As the Bob-Whites followed Mr. and Mrs. Belden and their youngest son up the bricked walkway, Jim and Dan closed in around Trixie. Mr. Jackson and Stanly Gruber were standing outside the main door, and neither boy wanted the men within an inch of their friend.
The former baseball coach had traded in his Comets cap on one with a navy insignia. But Trixie was willing to bet it was still lined with tinfoil, as was Mr. Gruber's straw Panama. If the paranoid pair were to follow decorum, they'd need to remove their headpieces upon entering the building. And the curious young lady was interested to see if they would.
Jim, however, was more interested in getting the pretty girl inside without incident. But as the B.W.G.s and their chaperones drew closer to the building, the excited group was forced to slow down and wait their turn to enter.
Taking up line, Dan caught sight of Di standing with Susie Swanson under a flowering crape myrtle tree in the courtyard. Susie had just handed Diana a cigarette, and the Lynch girl who'd been digging in her purse pulled out a lighter.
"Take a look at that," the repulsed boy said to the Bob-Whites. Dan nodded his head toward the under-aged smokers. "I don't get it. What's gotten into Di lately? Does she think that makes her look older, or something?"
As Diana lit up, Honey frowned and replied sadly, "It'll make her look older, alright, Dan. But certainly not in the way she expects. Not only will the tobacco yellow her teeth, but it will prematurely age Di's skin, too."
"Worse, smoking harms nearly every organ of the body," Brian explained. "It can increase her risk for getting cancer, lung and heart disease, as well as stroke. And that's just to name a few ailments. Surely Di knows that? They teach us that at school."
Mart was seriously worried about the dark-haired young lady. Trixie could see it in the wrinkles forming on the watching boy's forehead. She knew her middle brother cared about Diana very much and didn't want to see anything bad happening to her.
"What we're witnessing is the perilous effect of peer pressure," Mart replied. "Perhaps, I should go and remind her of the dangers of her actions?"
Only before Mart could ask his parents' permission, Di dropped her cigarette on the ground and snuffed it out with the toe of her shoe. Then she and Susie Swanson wandered off in the opposite direction. Apparently, their plans didn't include attending the meeting, and Trixie was stunned.
That wasn't like Di at all? She loved acting and would never pass up a chance to be in a T.V. show?! Besides, Diana had been as excited as the others about seeing the U.F.O. Trixie shook her head in disbelief. Maybe the Baked-Potato-Heads ought to be following Miss Lynch around. She was certainly acting strangely.
A greeter, stationed inside the door, handed each member of the Belden party a paper fan and an adhesive name tag as they moved into the official chamber. It was stuffy and beyond hot under the high domed ceiling. And the wooden folding chairs, which active Sleepyside citizens had used for over ninety years, were anything but comfortable.
Finding seats together proved to be an easy task. But as the hour grew closer to seven, it became standing-room-only inside the overflowing meeting house. So it was only right when the Bob-Whites of the Glen relinquished their chairs to a bus-load of older town's people, from the Shady Rest Retirement Village.
Mr. Belden gave his seat up too, as Miss Trask entered the building on the arm of Mr. Zabatino. The bronze bell in the building's tower had just rung out the highly anticipated hour. And as Honey's governess graciously slipped in quietly next to Moms and Bobby, Sergio took his place at the podium.
The producer's team of experts came in next and made themselves at home at the designated table at the front of the room. Armed with tablets and paper-and-pen, the educated group of men and women had come prepared to take notes. And the Way Beyond camera crew was already busy filming the proceedings.
Securing the tall double doors at the back of the room was none other than Spider Webster. Sgt. Molinson had sent him to keep an eye on things. To make sure that no one in the crowd got over-heated. The mayor of Sleepyside was presiding over the affair. And the uniformed officer signaled to Mayor Murdock that he could introduce Mr. Zabatino when ready.
Trixie was glad to find that the mayor's son and his goonies had decided to ditch the event. But she wasn't thrilled to see that all of the Baked-Potato-Heads had turned out - including the Lynch's Butler, Harrison.
The stuffy man, to her surprise, was standing with his employer off to the side of the podium, glowering down at Mr. Lynch's squirming little boys. Larry and Terry Lynch had come to tell their accounts too. And Trixie wondered what Harrison's story was? He certainly wasn't there to be the twins' babysitter. That was beneath the staunch man's station.
Then, as a sudden hush fell over the room, indicating that it was show-time, Trixie felt Jim press his hand in hers. It was an innocent gesture of anticipation. But of course, Mart Belden couldn't keep his big mouth shut. Clearing his throat, the awful boy then scolded the blushing pair "no squeezy-squeezies", drawing not only twitters from the audience but the zooming cameras of the chuckling film crew.
Mortified, the captured teens moved apart as Moms' face went in her hands, and Daddy sighed and shook his head. Mr. and Mrs. Belden, knowing Sergio as they did, were sure the "sweet" clip wouldn't be left on the cutting room floor. No, the comically "touching" moment would be televised for the world to see. And Trixie vowed to find a way to "thank" her beloved brother for that.
In the meantime, however, as the saying went, the show must go on. And as Mayor Murdock stepped forward and brought a ringing microphone to his lips, the brief interlude was forgotten. At least it was in the minds of most.
"Good Citizens of Sleepyside," the gentleman's strong voice blasted over the portable loud-speaker, "it is my great honor to present to you, the host of America's favorite prime-time hit, Way Beyond. Mr. Sergio Zabatino!"
After a round of applause, the engaging Mr. Zabatino made opening remarks before passing the floor back to the town's mayor.
The polished politician had conducted his own U.F.O. investigation. And he wished to begin the evening by turning over his "official" findings to Sergio's team of experts. Handing them a neatly typed report, the self-important man repeated his dubious claims that the spacecraft had been nothing more than an escaped atmospheric probe.
It was clearly an unpopular theory with the crowd, and Trixie giggled as one patron booed and another cried out, "Ah, that's hooey!" Having eye-witnessed the craft herself, the entertained girl had to agree. And from the cock in Allison Marx's eyebrow as she thumbed through the mayor's document, Trixie had a hunch the accomplished Meteorologist was of the same opinion.
Mr. Max Donahue, who was the next to commandeer the mike, clearly thought so too. In fact, the droll butcher noted that he found it hard to believe that his one-eyed one-horned alien had floated to earth on a weather balloon. But then, to the crowd's amazement, the Jiggly Piggly's meat cutter sobered. And he went on to give a relatively detailed description of the triangular ship he'd seen. Presenting Mr. Zabatino with a copy of the photograph he'd taken of it, Mr. Donahue hoped to back up his claim.
Catching a glimpse of the picture, Mart gave his still smoldering sister a nudge and nodded his head in Paul Trent's direction. Mr. Trent was in the first row, covering the event. Mr. Donahue's picture looked to be the same one the Sun had published on the day the U.F.O. first made headlines. And Mart whispered to Trixie that Paul must have bought the picture from the butcher when he first interviewed him.
Next to take his feet was Tad Webster. Trixie hadn't seen Spider's brother for a while, and she wondered what he'd been up to. The athletic teen used to hang out with the rest of the Hawks all the time. But lately, he'd been visibly absent.
"I saw a dark wedge-shaped ship too," Tad said, shying away a bit from the spotlight. "I was taking the garbage out for Mrs. Vanderpool, the lady my brother and I live with, when I spotted the craft overhead. I could have sworn it only hovered above me for a moment before it zipped off. But when I got into the house, Mrs. Vanderpool said I'd been outside for about fifteen minutes. She was getting worried. It was really weird."
Jim raised his hand as the nervous boy sat down. Then, as Sergio gave the red-headed youth a point with his finger, and the Mayor handed him the microphone, Jim stepped forward and said, "My friends and I experienced the same sort of an anomaly when we saw the unidentified flying object. It was almost as if we were frozen in space and time. Even the dogs stopped moving."
"But the horses, in the Wheeler's stables, acted completely opposite," Trixie explained as she pushed in at the microphone next to the grinning young man. "According to Regan, the horses sensed the craft too. He's the Wheeler's groom, but he didn't see the ship. And neither did the horses, but they were frightened out of their wits. They nearly trampled Regan, trying to flee their stalls."
"My old mare Belle acted the same way," Mr. Lytell called out, rising from his seat. "And that strange aircraft was emitting toxic levels of radiation too. Immediately after it went overhead, my hair started falling out."
Mr. Lytell, who was still wearing his tweed flat cap, removed it to reveal his balding noggin. As he did, Trixie noticed the now-familiar flash of silver coming from its lining. But as far as the scrutinizing girl was concerned, the shopkeeper looked no different than the last time she'd seen him.
Smirking, Sergio asked that Mr. Lytell be given the mike.
"The radiation from the thing's been affecting local produce too," Mr. Lytell went on to say into the device. "Frances Sanderson, my supplier, brought in tomatoes the size of basketballs and watermelons the length of a baby's crib."
When people began to snicker, Alex West, who was seated beside the grocer, barked loudly, "Don't laugh! I live next door to the farm. And I've seen them myself. The man's got pumpkins the size of buses, too. I kid you not!"
"That's because the spaceship crash-landed there," Mr. Jackson growled, snatching the amplifier away from his fellow potato-head before moving to stand before the crowd. "The government is trying to keep it all hush-hush. I've been involved with cover-ups before, and I know all the signs. I was in the Navy."
"Jackson, sit down," Mayor Murdock ordered as he reached for the microphone back. "That nothing but poppycock, and you know it."
"It is not!" the bullish man burst out, causing Spider to move the arguing pairs way " And I'll have you know, I have the right to be heard! Besides, you're involved in the cover-up, Milton Murdock! You've let the aliens infect your mind. And so have Wheeler and Brandio. Those two traitors think that if they open a plant to help the aliens rebuild their ship, their little grey friends will give them the technology to produce their own. Only the aliens' agenda is much more sinister! I warn you, Milt, if those doors open, it will spell our end!"
As the crowd's light laughter turned to gasps, Honey had heard all she could take. Raising her soft voice as loud as she could, the upset young woman cried out, " That's simply not true! Daddy and Mr. Brandio are only trying to help people by giving them jobs! My father and his partner are not in league with extraterrestrials!"
"Nor are those whopping fruits and vegetables from Sander's Farm a result of radioactive mutation!" Mart exploded from beside his honey-haired friend. "That produce is merely the byproduct of my Miraculous Multiplier, which is no more than environmentally friendly natural fertilizer!"
"Listen to the young people," Ted Brown begged, addressing Mr. Jackson. "How many times do I have to remind you, Bruce? That crash you're talking about happened way back in 1745."
With his interest instantly peaked, Mr. Zabatino immediately moved his finger, indicating to the mayor that he was to put the school teacher on speaker. Trixie thought the mayor looked as if he might object, but with cameras on him, the up for reelection politician complied. Far be it that Mayor Murdock upset his constituents.
So taking the wireless microphone, the usually laid-back Mr. Brown removed his tinfoil-lined skull cap and smoothed back his straying ponytail.
"Hello, everyone, I'm Ted Brown," he formally introduced himself. "I am an Earth Science Teacher at Sleepyside Jr./Senior High. I hold advanced degrees in education, geology, astronomy… and I am also a dedicated Ufologist."
As Sergio's team members took down notes, Mr. Brown went on, "Like the rest of you, I too saw the spacecraft. Only the following morning, I was visited by a pale man wearing only black. This grinning man, if it was a man, warned me not to speak of what I'd witnessed - or to disclose the details of my resent U.F.O. research. This same dark figure also confiscated the paper I'd been writing on the subject. But I refuse to be silenced!"
Again, the room echoed with listeners expressing their emotions. The Baked-Potato-Heads had turned Way Beyond's simple town hall meeting into a three-ring circus. And through it all, Mr. Zabatino had instructed his production crew to keep on rolling. The in-harmoniousness folly which had been sweeping the aisles would make for an entertaining TV show. Not to mention it'd be great for ratings.
So when Mr. Brown prepared to continue, Sergio motioned for him to speak directly to the camera. And Jim looked over at Trixie. Sadly, all she could do was nod back. At least now they knew why Jim's counselor and one-time role model had joined the Tinfoil Club. But the disheartened pair was about to learn more.
"When I first came to Sleepyside," the aging hippy said. "I became fascinated with the region's local folklore. But especially one specific tale, which revolved around a family of vampires, called the Van den Boogaards."
Trixie felt weak at the knees, and she reached for one of the square fluted columns. "Not the Van den Boogaards again! " she thought. But her ears hadn't been playing tricks on her. It was the Van den Boogaards again. And Sergio seemed equally stunned.
"Mr. Brown," he said, leaning across the podium. "What does an old vampire legend have to do with the recent U.F.O. sightings?"
"I'm getting there, Mr. Zabatino," Ted Brown replied while chuckling. "The story caught my attention because it spoke of stones raining from the sky. In colonial times, based on the works of Aristotle and supported by Isaac Newton, it was held that no small bodies existed in space beyond the Moon. Scientists didn't believe in Meteorites until 1803. But I assumed this is what the people of Sleepyside must have truly witnessed.
Only as I dug deeper, I discovered accounts that claimed that these heavenly stones were said to contain gold. The Van den Boogaard family was also rumored to have collected them. And that's when they began to develop the strange ailments that led to their vampirism.
The Van den Boogaards' symptoms, however, mimicked those of radiation sickness, and I began to put the pieces together."
From somewhere behind Trixie came a whoop, and she heard her oldest brother confess he would never have thought of that in a million years.
But as Brian fell silent, Mr. Brown went on, "I have long held that beings from distant worlds have been traveling to and from the Earth for eons to collect gold and other precious metals. It is my theory that these E.T.s were on one such mission in 1745 when something went wrong, and one of their ships exploded over the borough of Sleepyside.
It was the debris from the explosion, which rained down upon the Van den Boogaards' fields. The gold in the craft's stores must have become molten and mixed with the wreckage, which made it toxic to the inhabitants who gathered it.
I was just finishing my paper on the theory, preparing it for submission to P.U.F.O.O., the People's Unidentified Flying Object Organization, a week ago Saturday. That date corresponds to our latest sighting and my subsequent visit by the odd man in black. Such a 'man' was also said to have visited Captain Van den Boogaard. And I believe the aliens returned to stop me from revealing my findings to the public."
This notion upset Mrs. Connors. Pulling away from her restraining son, the older lady wearing blue took to her feet. "Oh, no, Mr. Brown," she said. "The aliens have only come to enlighten us. Raise our consciousness. They are not here to steal our riches. Fabio and his friends only wish to protect us." The sanguine widow then went on to tell of her private meetings with Fabio in her boudoir.
But as she drew to a close, Harrison took the microphone. "Madam, I beg to differ," the stiff man announced. "The creatures you speak of are here to experiment on us. I should know. I have been an abductee since I was a child of eight in England. I had hoped that by moving to the United States that this would stop. But the aliens have again found me. The lapses in time that people have been experiencing occur when taken aboard the extraterrestrials' ship."
Trixie surely didn't like the sound of that, and she asked Jim if he believed this was true. But her special friend shook his head and told her not to listen. It upset Jim that Harrison would say such a thing with little children like Bobby and his employer's twin sons in the audience.
But Trixie and Jim weren't the only ones who were disturbed by what the prim butler had said. Stanley Gruber was also distressed.
"No, no, no!" the whiny man cried out as he threw his paper fan to the marble floor. "The aliens are here to take over the Earth, you British fool! I work in close conjunction with the mayor on the town council. The E.T.s have got him under mind control; they do! He's developing our little town into a future city for alien beings. And we'll all be their slaves. That circle in the corn is a beacon to invading ships."
A part of Trixie wanted to crawl under a rock. Especially when she overheard Emilio Ellando laugh, then whisper to Sandy Ryan, "I think I remember reading that Cosmo McNaught book as a kid." But then she saw her little brother climb up on his chair seat.
"Nuh-uh!"Bobby cried, bringing a hush over the crowd. "I'ms Robert Belden, and your all wrongs! I just knows it. Theys only cames to says 'hi'. Can't wes just bes nice and says 'hi's back? Ifs you wents to visit their seven sisters and boy cow, wouldn't you wants them to be nice to yous? What's wrong with yous people? "
As Taylor Troves twisted his head oddly and eyeballed the solemn child, Moms settled Bobby back in his seat, and the meeting resumed on a more quiet note.
Not everyone in town believed they'd seen an extraterrestrial ship in the sky on that earth-shattering mid-August night. Some citizens held all that they'd seen was a secret experimental aircraft from a nearby base. Others thought the lights seen overhead had been no more than Japanese lanterns, flares, or even ball lightning.
But that didn't stop Trixie from wondering what indeed was wrong with people? Especially the Baked-Potato-Heads. Why they couldn't even agree on what the aliens' agenda was. Only one thing was for sure. The members of the tinfoil crowd were all acting out of their own inner fears. And that made the group of banded men unpredictable and dangerously unstable.
Trixie suddenly understood why Mayor Murdock was trying to cover things up with his weather balloon claims. He didn't want the panic to spread. That was the true infection affecting the citizens of Sleepyside.