Author's Note: Hey, thanks to everyone who reviewed. To bcody1, sorry I
didn't email you; I'll be posting a new chapter about every couple days, so
if you want you can stay tuned that way!
Chapter Five
Liz Parker stared blankly across the table at her date, Kyle Valenti. God, she thought, could this man be any more egocentric? All he had talked about all night was football! Then I passed right, left, right, left, we won this, championship that, bla bla bla… Liz had only survived the date this far because she hadn't really been paying attention to Kyle. She was mostly caught up in her own world.
She had been thinking about her dream last night. Liz knew she had a lot of dreams, but she had a hard time remembering them. So many mornings, she would wake up incredibly happy but without a reason as to why. It was so aggravating. She had gone to a therapist before, hoping to find ways of recalling her dreams. However the therapist had only said that some dreams were meant to be remembered, and some weren't. But when Liz had started screaming at him, he had told her that the best way was to try and write down whatever she could remember when she woke up. After months, Liz still had only feelings and cryptic figures stored in her 'dream notebook.' This morning she had written:
April 24:
Happy, content, longing, desire:
I think the same man was there, as in previous dreams.
Also, possibly hot weather?
"Liz! You should have seen that play! It was amazing! Freakin' Amazing!" Kyle slammed his fist onto the restaurant table. The plates shook. Liz decided this was her chance, "Kyle, I'm not feeling very well. I think I'm going to go home, if you don't mind. Thanks for lunch. Bye!" Liz said this all very quickly while putting on her jacket and placing a twenty on the table. And then before Kyle could say 'amazing,' she was out the door and into the rain.
Living in Seattle was full of rain. It washed through the streets and under your umbrellas, always trying to get you soaked. Liz waved frantically for a cab. Almost suddenly, one pulled over. Liz threw open the door and climbed in.
"490 Russell Road, please," Liz told the driver.
When the cab started rolling again the driver spoke up, "Some rain, eh?"
"You could say that again!" Liz grumbled.
The driver chuckled. "Wasn't like this when I live in New Mexico. Never seen so much rain." He looked into the rare-view mirror at his passenger. She looked surprised.
"You lived in New Mexico? So did I!"
"Small world," he answered, amused at her sudden enthusiasm. "I lived in Roswell for a few years, have some family down there. My name's Jackson by the way."
"Me too! Not the name thing, I mean. My name's Liz Parker. I grew up in Roswell with my brothers. Remember all those alien stores and merchandise? Geeze!" Liz giggled, remembering when she worked at the Crashdown Café when she was a teenager.
"Ah, yes. The alien town," Jackson's eyes sparkled. "So, do you believe in aliens, Miss. Parker?"
"Well, not on Earth. I am a scientist, and I personally believe in other life, but in Roswell? No way!" Liz laughed out loud. "If there are any aliens in Roswell, they are definitely my old high school teachers!"
From the driver's seat, Jackson grinned. She was something, he thought. No wonder He loved her- they would be perfect together.
Liz looked out the window as the cab pulled onto her street. Jackson braked and Liz gave him a twenty-dollar bill for a six-dollar fee. She just smiled and waved, walking into her little white house.
In the car, Jackson pocketed the money and left. He drove a few miles and then pulled into an abandoned alley. He got out of the cab and stood beside it. He placed his right hand on the hood of the cab. And then, all of a sudden, the yellow hood became a forest green. The green color flowed across the car like a fresh coat of paint, applied in two seconds flat. When the whole car was a satisfactory green, Jackson got back in and drove away.
*
Max sat on the couch, eating pizza. After a busy day at the hospital, he had needed some relaxation watching TV. The only problem was, every time Max watched TV he always ended up studying the news. It was as if Max felt the unspoken responsibility for his whole alien race's future. Watching the news was a good way to keep up with suspicious headlines.
Today the news reporters were going to about some celebrity sighting. Max relaxed and took a bite of the pepperoni pizza with Tabasco sauce.
A woman reporter spoke, "We have also been asked to report on a very tragic case of kidnap in the Roswell area. Let's go to Sam- Sam?"
"Right here, Winona. Folks, three days ago a young teenage boy was kidnapped off the streets. His name was Joshua Parker and he lived in a small house with his two other brothers, his one sister, and his mother, Nancy Parker-"
Max dropped his pizza into his lap. Nancy Parker was the mother of that boy Charlie. It must be one of Charlie's brothers who was kidnapped, Max thought sadly. Maybe that's why he was running about that day…
"Mrs. Parker told our reporters that her son had been kidnapped on his way to Roswell High School. She also urges people to call this number- 555-479-0327- if anyone knows anything about her son, 16-year-old Joshua Parker." A picture came up on the TV screen of a smiling teenage boy with ruffled brown hair. Max again felt a pang of unexplained feeling, almost, Max though, recognition…
Chapter Five
Liz Parker stared blankly across the table at her date, Kyle Valenti. God, she thought, could this man be any more egocentric? All he had talked about all night was football! Then I passed right, left, right, left, we won this, championship that, bla bla bla… Liz had only survived the date this far because she hadn't really been paying attention to Kyle. She was mostly caught up in her own world.
She had been thinking about her dream last night. Liz knew she had a lot of dreams, but she had a hard time remembering them. So many mornings, she would wake up incredibly happy but without a reason as to why. It was so aggravating. She had gone to a therapist before, hoping to find ways of recalling her dreams. However the therapist had only said that some dreams were meant to be remembered, and some weren't. But when Liz had started screaming at him, he had told her that the best way was to try and write down whatever she could remember when she woke up. After months, Liz still had only feelings and cryptic figures stored in her 'dream notebook.' This morning she had written:
April 24:
Happy, content, longing, desire:
I think the same man was there, as in previous dreams.
Also, possibly hot weather?
"Liz! You should have seen that play! It was amazing! Freakin' Amazing!" Kyle slammed his fist onto the restaurant table. The plates shook. Liz decided this was her chance, "Kyle, I'm not feeling very well. I think I'm going to go home, if you don't mind. Thanks for lunch. Bye!" Liz said this all very quickly while putting on her jacket and placing a twenty on the table. And then before Kyle could say 'amazing,' she was out the door and into the rain.
Living in Seattle was full of rain. It washed through the streets and under your umbrellas, always trying to get you soaked. Liz waved frantically for a cab. Almost suddenly, one pulled over. Liz threw open the door and climbed in.
"490 Russell Road, please," Liz told the driver.
When the cab started rolling again the driver spoke up, "Some rain, eh?"
"You could say that again!" Liz grumbled.
The driver chuckled. "Wasn't like this when I live in New Mexico. Never seen so much rain." He looked into the rare-view mirror at his passenger. She looked surprised.
"You lived in New Mexico? So did I!"
"Small world," he answered, amused at her sudden enthusiasm. "I lived in Roswell for a few years, have some family down there. My name's Jackson by the way."
"Me too! Not the name thing, I mean. My name's Liz Parker. I grew up in Roswell with my brothers. Remember all those alien stores and merchandise? Geeze!" Liz giggled, remembering when she worked at the Crashdown Café when she was a teenager.
"Ah, yes. The alien town," Jackson's eyes sparkled. "So, do you believe in aliens, Miss. Parker?"
"Well, not on Earth. I am a scientist, and I personally believe in other life, but in Roswell? No way!" Liz laughed out loud. "If there are any aliens in Roswell, they are definitely my old high school teachers!"
From the driver's seat, Jackson grinned. She was something, he thought. No wonder He loved her- they would be perfect together.
Liz looked out the window as the cab pulled onto her street. Jackson braked and Liz gave him a twenty-dollar bill for a six-dollar fee. She just smiled and waved, walking into her little white house.
In the car, Jackson pocketed the money and left. He drove a few miles and then pulled into an abandoned alley. He got out of the cab and stood beside it. He placed his right hand on the hood of the cab. And then, all of a sudden, the yellow hood became a forest green. The green color flowed across the car like a fresh coat of paint, applied in two seconds flat. When the whole car was a satisfactory green, Jackson got back in and drove away.
*
Max sat on the couch, eating pizza. After a busy day at the hospital, he had needed some relaxation watching TV. The only problem was, every time Max watched TV he always ended up studying the news. It was as if Max felt the unspoken responsibility for his whole alien race's future. Watching the news was a good way to keep up with suspicious headlines.
Today the news reporters were going to about some celebrity sighting. Max relaxed and took a bite of the pepperoni pizza with Tabasco sauce.
A woman reporter spoke, "We have also been asked to report on a very tragic case of kidnap in the Roswell area. Let's go to Sam- Sam?"
"Right here, Winona. Folks, three days ago a young teenage boy was kidnapped off the streets. His name was Joshua Parker and he lived in a small house with his two other brothers, his one sister, and his mother, Nancy Parker-"
Max dropped his pizza into his lap. Nancy Parker was the mother of that boy Charlie. It must be one of Charlie's brothers who was kidnapped, Max thought sadly. Maybe that's why he was running about that day…
"Mrs. Parker told our reporters that her son had been kidnapped on his way to Roswell High School. She also urges people to call this number- 555-479-0327- if anyone knows anything about her son, 16-year-old Joshua Parker." A picture came up on the TV screen of a smiling teenage boy with ruffled brown hair. Max again felt a pang of unexplained feeling, almost, Max though, recognition…
