Roger held out my glasses, then snatched them back as I tried to grab them. "I bet these aren't even real. They look like costume props."

"You're wrong! I'm really nearsighted! I got a prescription! Give them back!"

He pocketed them, waved the tabloid picture in front of me again. "Are you sure this isn't jogging your memory? Even a little?"

"I can't see without my glasses."

"You're nearsighted, not blind!"

"No," I stammered. "It's not me. Please let me go."

Roger grabbed me around the throat. "You know what, kid? You really suck at lying. You're not even looking at me!"

"I wouldn't look directly at a mad gorilla, either," I muttered.

Roger's hands tightened around my throat. "What's that, Wolfie?"

"Nothing! I'm sorry!"

He snarled, pressing my head against the cold metal door. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you're not that Elliott kid!"

"Okay, okay! It's me!" I gasped. "I'm Elliott! What do you want!"

Roger let go of me with a chuckle. "Thought I recognized you! You know there's a reward out for you? They say your father is a kidnapper!"

"The government kidnapped me," I sighed. "If you tell anyone, they're not going to take me back to mom."

He smirked. "Is that what he told you?"

"No. I was kidnapped by the government. Dad broke me out of an army base."

Roger laughed. "That's awesome!"

I slumped against the locker. "You're going to tell someone, aren't you?"

"No way! I don't care about that reward!" He put an arm around my shoulder, whispering conspiratorially. "Did he probe you? The alien?"

I shook my head.

"What did he look like? Is he really like the picture?"

"No." Since I knew he'd ask anyway, I took out a drawing I had in my notebook. "He looks like that."

Roger snatched it from me, chortling as he examined it closely. "He looks like an old geezer!"

I shrugged. "So it's not much of a picture. The point is, he doesn't look like the picture you showed me."

"I wanna hear more. Tell me everything!"

"Why? So you can tell the newspapers? What?"

He pressed his hand against the locker, leaning over me. "You've just become the most interesting kid in school. I thought you'd like not getting pounded."

"I'd rather get pounded than go back to that place!"

Roger put the glasses back on my nose. "Did your alien teach you the secrets of the universe? Like how to use the force?"

I shook my head. "Nothing that special. At least not anymore."

He raised an eyebrow. "But you did?"

I reddened. "Kinda."

"So what did you do?"

I didn't answer. The bell rang.

"We're not done," Roger said. "Meet me on the playground during lunch."

In science class, my girlfriend passed me another note. The teacher intercepted it, just like before, but this time he just rolled his eyes and laughed. "Pay attention."

I didn't get to see the note until the end of class. When I did, the only thing I saw were a bunch of nonsense mathematical symbols arranged in a heart shape, with my name in the middle.

Jamie blew me a kiss and went on to her next class before I could tell her anything about my aggressive new `friend.'

I came to the tetherball pole during lunch hour, as promised. Roger offered me a cigarette, but I declined.

I stared as he lit up. "You're going to get in trouble."

"I'm always in trouble." He took a drag. "So what was that note you were passing around in science the other day? Was it really a bomb? Or were you making drugs?"

I shook my head. "Neither." I showed him the love note.

Roger frowned, clearly disappointed. "I...kinda don't think this is what you were getting all those weird compliments on before."

He shook the ashes from the cigarette. I bet he thought he looked cool. "What was it then? I know it wasn't a game. I've been looking around hobby shops ever since those church guys started burning game manuals. I'd know if something new came in."

"Look," I stammered. "You can't tell anyone about this. Even my dad doesn't know what I'm doing."

Roger grinned. "Oh man! Now you've got to tell me!"

I swallowed, shaking at the thought of where all this could go. "It's...rocket fuel, all right? We're building a spaceship."

He laughed. "I'm guessing it's some special kind of rocket fuel, because if you amass too much of the other kind, someone's bound to notice."

I nodded.

"I got an Atari," Roger said proudly. "And a whole bunch of games. Have you tried Montezuma's Revenge?"

"Isn't that when you get the squirts?"

"That's the same thing I thought. But it's a cool game. You want to come over and play?"

"You mean right now?"

"No, dummy! After school!"

I really really didn't want to hang out with him. "Um, that's okay..."

"What? You got other plans or something?"

I fumbled for an answer.

"That's right! You're building a spaceship! Who needs an Atari?"

I gave him a slight nod.

"Hey, let me help! I'm really good with building stuff, and finding equipment."

I stared at him with skepticism. "Can you find me large quantities of aluminum and titanium?"

The look on Roger's face said no. "I know where you can get some roller coaster parts. Would that work?"

My little meeting with Roger didn't leave me much time for anything else. I grabbed a quick bite in the lunch room, hustled off to social studies.

"Hey Elliott! Wait up!" Roger called to me as I was leaving for the day.

"It's Wolfgang!" I hissed. "You want me to get taken away?"

Jamie goggled at me. "Wait, are you actually talking to him?"

I didn't need to say anything. She knew the answer was yes.

"Isn't he that the same guy who beat you up?"

I gave her a pained look. "Apparently I'm in the tabloids."

Roger grinned at my girlfriend. "Hey, you're that chick that kicked my ass!"

"You want me to kick it again? Go away!"

He didn't. "Is she your sister or your girlfriend? `Cuz I've heard it both ways."

I was going to be honest, and started saying "Well, she is kinda my friend..." But Jamie finished with "We're cousins."

She stared at me again. "So, what, you're just going to let him and his buddies in on the secret? They'll blab and tell the whole school!"

"What, hey," Roger protested. "No one's telling anything. The guys don't even believe the story from the paper is true. Bruce doesn't even think there can be life on other planets. He calls it a `nerd thing.'"

Jamie looked nervous. "We can't just show him the machine! He'll think it's a ride! He'll start charging admission, and having the whole school line up for a turn until your battery dies!...Or those government types show up!"

Roger clenched his fists. "I get it! You want to keep a low profile! I blab and you go away forever. No spaceship, no space man. Don't worry, I won't talk!"

Jamie put her hands on her hips, sighing in frustration.

"He promised not to tell anyone. He just wants in."

"In?" she said incredulously. "You're making it sound like—"

"I know, I know! But what can we do?"

"So he's just going to hang around us while we work?"

I shrugged. "He said he knows where to get supplies."

Gertie, having just come from grade school, had been eavesdropping on the whole conversation. "I trust him."

Jamie paused in thought for a long time. She and my sister appeared to be having a staring contest. Well, when she wasn't slyly checking Roger out.

At last she said, "Can he get us some O2?"

It turns out Roger actually did know a few things about that.

He lived in a mobile home on the other side of the railroad tracks, the lower income area.

I was shocked to find a little black girl thanking him for getting her doll out of a tree, and fixing the training wheels on her bike. Apparently he did other things besides pounding on classmates.

Roger lived in an ugly beige-green trailer, wheels taken off, shoddy concrete job on the porch. We kept our opinions to ourselves.

In addition to Montezuma's Revenge, Roger introduced us to some of his hobbies, throwing biscuit dough and eggs at passing cars, mocking passerby with a microphone and speaker system.

"Real mature!" Jamie said.

The demonstrations ended when Roger hit a convertible, and the driver got out and yelled at him.

Roger's dad owned some military surplus gas masks with air tanks. He also had an air compressor, the kind you use for nail guns and spray paint. "You can pump up a tire with it," he explained. "So I don't see why it won't work for other stuff. The only problem is you'll maybe get an hour of air out of these masks."

My girlfriend frowned at the equipment. "We're going to need more than that."

"Relax, Lori! I'll get you a scuba tank and some 02 later. I just need to talk with grandma."

"She...doesn't...need the air, does she?"

"No way. It was just a temp deal, and now she says they won't take the tanks back." He laughed. "She still goes bowling and she's seventy four. Dad wonders sometimes if she's healthier than he is...I'm actually going to have a harder time explaining why I'm borrowing her Depend-O's."

I grimaced, not believing what I was hearing. "Excuse me?"

"You're going all the way to Mars or something, right? I'm assuming that's why you need the air...You'll eventually have to take a whiz. It doesn't take a brain to figure that one out. Unless you want to hold it all the way..."

He brought out an old vacuum cleaner. "Hey, maybe we could use this with a funnel or something, too, you know, make an actual toilet. Might make it less rank. Of course, you'll be ejecting air..."

Jamie looked a little...queasy. "You know how we can get metal?"

Being a smartass, Roger showed her an Iron Maiden LP.

I think Jamie thought he was lying about the supplies. She actually seemed angry. "Seriously?"

"What. It's metal."

Jamie crossed her arms indignantly.

"Geez, lighten up!" he groaned. "I'll get you the aluminum, but the place is super busy right now. We'll have to wait until closing time."

"That sounds...sketchy."

"Hey, you want the supplies or not?"

None of us said we didn't.

Roger put the record down. "Hey...since I've helped you and all, when do I get to see this invention of yours?"

Okay, so fair was fair. We took him to our cabin so he'd be in the mood to give us the equipment.

Roger whistled. "Nice place!"

I rolled my eyes. "You're kidding."

"Hey, you saw mine..."

"Thanks," I mumbled.

When Roger showed up at the door, Dad looked puzzled at his presence. "Wait, isn't he the kid who beat you up at school?"

"Um," I stammered.

Dad frowned. "Yeah! That is the same boy! What's he doing here!"

Roger seemed to be a practiced liar. "He's forgiven me. He's a better man than I am."

"Better man!" Dad chuckled, shaking his head in belief. "Okay!"

Dad asked some probing questions, but Roger kind of talked his way around the facts so we didn't get in trouble, distracting him with a conversation about his 49ers shirt, and so forth.

"I thought you said you had rocket fuel," Roger said as he stared at our equipment set up in the woods.

I reddened. "I just said that because I didn't trust you. This is better than any rocket fuel you could make."

Although not the smartest thing to do, I volunteered to be the next guinea pig, because Gertie had been such a sport about it.

The problem was that Roger kept playing with the computer when Jamie attempted to maneuver me safely through the trees. I ended up slamming against objects. Roger thought it hilarious, but I didn't laugh until I was out of the bubble with my gas mask off.

When my legs stopped shaking, and I noticed I hadn't felt a single one of those violent impacts, I actually giggled. "That...was...kinda fun!"

It seemed my brother had gotten home early from work, for while I flew around hitting objects, I noticed Gertie leading him down to the site, and I had an audience. Michael hadn't been too wild about Roger's games either. "Hey, don't do that, you'll kill him!" He shouted more than once.

Not wanting to get grounded, we took a break from our experiments and went home for homework and supper.

Of course, we still wanted those supplies, so we also promised Roger we'd sneak out in the dead of night to do `equipment shopping.'

I'd been to the junkyard before. We only had one in town, and I and Dad dropped by at odd times to get parts for projects.

Not so familiar: Sneaking up the back in the dark with the barking dog.

"This seems kinda illegal," I muttered as we climbed the fence.

"Shut up!" Roger hissed. "You want the equipment or not!"

A big headed pit bull ran out from behind a trash can and barked at us, but Roger fed it hamburger laced with sleeping pills.

Roger did find us some interesting scrap, construction materials, pieces of a combine harvester, metal chairs...I asked about car parts, but he suddenly gained a conscience when I tried to take a hood or a fender. We hefted quite a few other things over the fence.

The best piece we found: An old Tilt-A-Whirl car. Roger said it had been sitting in the junk pile gathering rust since the State Fair ten years ago. Apparently it was broken and unsafe to put back in a ride, and nobody wanted to buy it. They'd called an electronic billboard service and tried posting an ad, but nobody seemed to want it there either, on account of the shipping costs and less than perfect condition.

"Sounds like you were actually trying to sell the thing yourself," Jamie remarked, but Roger only replied, "Just help me with this thing, okay?"

Due to the weight, we had to push the Tilt-A-Whirl car along with its castor wheels and a dolly, which made huge amounts of noise. The dog woke up, went on a barking frenzy.

A gnarled, weathered looking man in flannel and overalls came rushing out of the office, hollering, "Rudolph Francine Myers! Where in the hell are you going with that!"

"Building a treehouse!" Roger hollered back.

I suppressed a snort at Roger's true name.

"It's two A.M. on a school night!...Not like anything like that's mattered to you before!"

"You think I'm actually going to go to bed with the chickens so I can learn a bunch of Con-Ag bullcrap and shuck corn all day? You're out of your mind!"

"The Future Farmers ain't nothing to sniff at, boy! You think I want to be here selling junk? One of these days, you're going to look back at all this goofing off and ask yourself if it's worth it! By that time it'll be too late to do anything about it!"

"Hey, screw you, old man!"

"What's that? You want some more belt action? I can give it to you!"

Jamie stared at them. "That's his dad?"

I could only guess that Roger hadn't recognized me before all this because he didn't like hanging out with his dad. "I...I kinda thought I saw Roger hanging around here before..."

"Why'd the dog get so upset?"

With a look of absolute certainty, Gertie answered, "He teases it."

The man rushed out and grabbed Roger by the scruff of the neck. "What other shit did you steal from me this time? Fess up!"

"Nothing!" Roger stammered. "Just the Tilt-A-Whirl! That's it! I swear!"

"Don't lie to me, boy! What I hate more than anything else is a liar! I know you've been sneaking around my back! What else did you steal, you little punk?"

"Hey, screw you! I ain't telling!"

The man's grip tightened. "I'm fed up with all your disrespect and belligerence, you little cretin. Fed up to here!"

"Hey! Let go!"

Roger's dad didn't let go. He hit him with his belt, then his fists. Roger cried and screamed in pain.

"Keep yelling like that and someone's going to call Child Services on me. Is that what you want?" The man was talking through his teeth now. "They'll take you away from me, send you to live with some fat greasy black mamadown in the ghetto! You want that, Rudolph? Huh? Do you!"

Roger shook his head violently. "No sir!"

So he let his father pound him.

Me and Jamie didn't know what to do. We just watched it happen. I mean, after what Roger did to me in school, I kinda felt he deserved it, and even the part of me that felt sorry for him didn't want to get involved in a family quarrel. His dad was trying to discipline him. It would be like Roger coming over and trying to stop my dad from spanking Gertie. If this was child abuse, who was I to step in and do anything about it? Deep down, Roger still presumably loved his father, right?

Still, Gertie was crying.

Honestly, I think Gertie was the main reason why the beating stopped.

"You kids go home!" the man yelled. "And Roger, if I ever catch you sneaking around in my junkyard and taking things without asking again, you're going to wish I only beat you like I did today!"

Then, with a dismissive wave to our acquisition, he muttered, "You can get that eyesore out of my junkyard. I'm not even sure it's good for melting." He picked up a whiskey bottle from a garden chair, stomping back into his office.

Looking very sad and sympathetic, Gertie touched Roger and said, "You're hurting..."

Her hand started glowing.

Roger laughed. "Hey! What...?"

A moment later, he leaned into it like a cat stretched out in a sun beam. "Woww...that's amazing! Kid, you could put massage parlors out of business (Man, it's like he never even touched me)!"

I stared at my sister in disbelief, maybe some jealousy at the amount of power she still retained...And annoyance at the fact she'd gone out of her way to help my enemy.

Gertie looked at me like I were crazy. "What."

We collected all the parts together, moving them to our testing site in the woods.

We approached our cabin from the rear to climb in the windows, but found Dad standing in our path with his arms crossed. "You'd better have a good explanation for all of this."

I just ran up to him and gave him a hug.

"Whoa!" Dad laughed. "What's this about?"

I fumbled for words. "I...I'm glad to have a dad like you."

He chortled through his nose. "You trying to butter me up? You must have gotten into some trouble..."

"Roger's father is mean," Gertie blurted.

Dad only sighed, rubbing my head.

He kinda changed his tune when we got inside. "I changed my whole life on account of you kids! I had to give up everything! Every damn day I live in fear of someone breaking in and taking you away from me." He glanced uncomfortably at the ceiling. "Or abducting you. Did you seriously think I was dumb enough not to notice when my own children disappeared in the middle of the night?"

"I'm sorry," I stammered.

We more or less explained what we were doing sneaking around. He ordered us to bed.

Jamie stayed in Gertie's room all night, so Gertie had nothing bad to report to Dad that night. School time came before any of us were ready for it.

"Kids," Dad told us at breakfast. "Today you're going to learn the importance of coffee." You know, because it's not something kids ordinarily drink.

I and Jamie didn't care for the taste, even with cream and sugar, but Gertie asked for a second cup.

"Whoa there, squirt!" Dad laughed. "Too much of that stuff and your teacher is going to call me out of work from you bouncing off the walls!"

After eating in silence for a few moments, Dad locked eyes with me. "So you ran into Chuck."

"Mr. Myers from the junkyard, you mean?" I shrugged. "Yeah?"

"Saw his kid once or twice down there. Funny I didn't put two and two together. Guess I got a lot on my mind. The guy's an alcoholic. I suppose you didn't go inside the main office to smell it on his breath. I think he sleeps up there so he can drink without his wife saying anything...you didn't see the mother at all?"

I shook my head.

"Funny. Wonder when she goes home? I know she works the bar in the evenings..." He cast Jamie an accusatory look, making her shrink in her chair.

"What were you guys doing outside all night?" Michael asked as he walked us to school. "Dad was going crazy!"

We told him about our little adventure in the junkyard.

"We have supplies now!" Gertie exclaimed with caffeinated jittery excitement. "It's all in the forest at our special testing site! We can finally build our spaceship!"

"All right, but don't let your school work suffer. Dad will kill me!...If you're still this excited about it after school, I might even drop by and see how I can help." He gave me a thoughtful look, but didn't say what it was about.

"Hey! Lori!" Roger called when we approached the front steps of the school.

Jamie stared. I could tell she was a little annoyed, probably thought he was being extra friendly because of our great invention or something. "Uh...hi?"

Roger cast me a sideways glance, then started stammering, red faced. "Uh, hey. Um, you know, I've been thinking a lot...about you recently, and, well, you're really cool, I mean, you're a genius, you've got a great family, you kicked my butt the other day, because you're a badass, and the fact you've met an actual space alien is awesome..."

Jamie rolled her eyes. "Roger, what..."

He kept going. "I...like how you look, you're really pretty. I...you wanna go out sometime?"

Jamie's face turned a bright red. She shot me this look like I should have said all those nice things to her, but then told him, "I'm sorry, I'm taken."

Roger frowned. "That's your cousin."

"Actually, he's not. He's my boyfriend. I ran away from home because of him, and we're both hiding from the authorities. That's why I pretended to be part of his family."

"You're kidding."

Both I and Jamie slowly shook our heads.

"So when were you going to tell me that?"

Jamie shrugged. "I didn't know you thought that way about me."

Roger looked crushed.

"Hey, we can still be friends, right?"

Roger didn't look too thrilled by that. "Yeah..." He scowled at me, looking jealous. "See you at lunch."

He marched into the building.

I gave Jamie a bashful smile. "He's right. You are smart, and pretty, and...kick ass."

She giggled. "And you're still the most interesting boy I've ever met."

In science class, I wished I had actually drank my coffee. My head lay on my desk before I knew what happened. A good dream, too. Our completed cherry red spaceship, stood shiny and glistening in front of the classroom, the teacher praising me on what a great invention it was.

I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder. "Mister Mueller! What amino acids are required for biosynthesis in a human being?"

"Uh..." I stammered. "Vitamin B?"

"It's B5, Mr. Mueller." Mr. Sigler rolled his eyes. "Okay, so you got the pantothenate...What are the other two?"

I frowned. "I...I don't know."

The teacher sighed. "The correct answer is cysteine, pantothenate and adenosine triphosphate. Do your sleeping at home, Mr. Mueller. You're smart, but it's clear you're not quite at Nobel Laureate level just yet. I can help you if you just listen occasionally." He scowled at Jamie. "The same goes for you, Sleeping Beauty!"

Sigler leaned over the desk. "Was there a late night monster movie on TV last night or something?"

I shook my head, then nodded when I realized how good the alibi sounded. "Could I have some coffee?"

My classmates tittered.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Mueller, this is not a cafe. If I gave you a cup, everyone would want one. If this continues to be a problem, perhaps you should bring along a thermos."

I struggled to stay awake the best I could.

At the end of class, I caught Jamie at the door and quipped, "See you later, Sleeping Beauty."

She gave me a jab. "Okay, Prince Sleepyhead."

Throughout English and Social studies, I fought to keep awake, sitting straight in my chair, taking notes...It kinda worked, but when I re-read my handwriting, it looked like I'd scrawled something about Czar Nicholas being a blueberry.

Jamie's schedule had changed, so she didn't eat with me that day, she ate a half hour before me. She left when I came in. At the cafeteria line, the cook stared at me when I asked for coffee, but actually brought me a cup.

The moment I sat down with my food, Roger opened his backpack on the table, and out fell a pair of car headlights. "Thought you could use these. I mean, it's going to be dark sometime, right?"

I gawked at him. "Do you ever carry actual books in that bag?"

Roger snorted. "What do I look like, a nerd?...Anyways, it turns out grandma does own a scuba tank. I just called her. And get this. She's actually glad to hear we're doing something with her O2. She says she breathes just fine on her own, `All they're doing is sitting around gathering dust.' I guess she tried to send them back once, but there was some problem and they never came to pick them up."

"Thank you."

"Oh, by the way, I heard we're about to have some computers shipped into the school. They're supposed to teach us typing and science lessons or something boring like that. You want me to swipe some circuit boards and stuff?"

I rolled my eyes. "No thanks. Even if I were okay with that, I'm pretty sure they'd slow everything down."

Roger scoffed at this remark. "They're brand new." Then, noting my facial expression, "Hey, I offered."

In English class, Ms. Horne thought my fiction writing was hilarious. Since I hesitated to write about ET, I gave her fantasy stories that vaguely resembled my life, with a dragon. The big woman commented that my "Realistic piece" she asked me to do, you know the one where you can't include any fantasy elements, was actually less believable than that one, because the mom and dad stayed together at the end.

I had Math after that. I'm ashamed to say I didn't do too well.

At last, school let out, and I hurried to meet with Jamie and pick up my sister.

"Lori!"

I watched, with some chagrin, as Roger rushed up to my girlfriend, kissing her on the mouth.

What followed surprised all three of us.

Something like a spark erupted from the point where their lips touched, then Roger fell to the ground, where he lay for an entire minute.

"Oh no!" Jamie cried, kneeling next to him. "What just happened?"

Roger groaned and sat up, rubbing his head. "Feels like I just grabbed hold of an electric fence! What did you do?"

"Me!" she cried indignantly. "You're the one that was acting..." she blushed. "Disrespectful!"

I furrowed my brow. "I saw a spark."

Her blush deepened. "That was not a spark! I...I was...just thinking about jellyfish and electric eels...and how nice it would be to have that kind of defense mechanism, and..." She put a hand to her mouth in horror. "I did that?"

The looks on me and Roger's faces answered the question.

Roger's eyes bugged out. "Gee, I'm glad I only tried to kiss you!"

She helped him to his feet. "Next time, ask me first."

He swallowed. "Yes, ma'am." He did a double take. "You mean you'd actually do it?"

I gave Jamie an uncomfortable glance, but she only shrugged. "I don't know. You kinda started on the wrong foot."

"You did...that thing instead of hitting me with a karate chop. Does that mean you didn't mind it so much?"

Jamie only clenched her fists and squealed through her nose.

Despite the awkward social situation, we still had great enthusiasm for our little after school science project. We practically ran down to the clearing to make sure the equipment and everything remained where we left it.

I came to the crest of the hill and froze. Someone had beaten us there.

A teenaged African American woman, plump, but attractively so, you could tell she took care of herself and exercised.

The young woman leaned over the Tilt-A-Whirl car, clad in overalls, protective face shield and gloves, welding on pieces of aluminum.

Noticing us approaching, she shut off the torch, flipped back the welding mask.

She had aquiline features, dark, slicked back hair braided like cables. Overall, kind of cute for someone way older than me.

And she could weld! I stared with my mouth hanging open.

"Michael said you guys needed help."

"Hey!" Roger shouted. "That's our stuff! What's the big idea!"

"Cool it." I marched up to the stranger. "You're Michael's girlfriend, aren't you?"

The young woman's protruding beak-like lips curled in a smile. "The name's Timmashay, little man!"

Roger gawked at her. "That's your brother's girlfriend?"

Sensing a bit of disapproval in his tone, I just gave him a questioning look, like `What?'

He raised his hands defensively, as if to say `No, no, it's cool!'

Timmashay laughed. "He hasn't told you yet, but sometimes brother comes home with a big smile on his face. Wonder what that's about!"

I examined Timmashay's handiwork in dismay. In my absence, Timmashay had welded the pieces of aluminum scrap and parts of a Fiat shell to the Tilt-A-Whirl car.

A ghastly 1970 puke green 850 Sports Coupe with rust spots. It looked really ugly, especially with the addition of the clothes drier doors we were using for side windows, and chrome trash cans.

She stared down her hooked nose at my displeased expression. "I skipped school to work on this for you kids. Say thank you."

"Thank you," I stammered.

"Some guy was selling a car for a hundred dollars. Drove for a block before it stalled. Folks looked at me like I was crazy when they saw me pushing it into the woods, but hey, it's my car. Don't even have to pay the insurance." She welded a door to the frame. "Fix It Again Tony. That's what they say Fiat stands for."

I scowled at the inelegant design. "I had plans for what it was supposed to look like."

Timmashay pulled a wad of folded papers out of her chest pocket. My drawings. "These, you mean? Sorry, not happening. There's limits to my magic. You're going to be lucky if it's round!"

"Could it have killed you to at least get a Spider?" Roger complained.

The young woman just glared at him. "You get what you get, little white boy."

"Why don't we just use the Fiat? It's got a frame and everything!"

Timmashay rolled her eyes, put her hands on her hips. "What do I look like, Wonder Woman? I was lucky to get that thing near your little hiding spot, and a workout just to get the parts down here!" Besides, car engines and tires weigh a ton, and we don't need them, right?"

"Right," I reluctantly muttered.

"We could cut the frame off and carry it down here," Jamie suggested. "Might add strength to the shell."

"Now that's thinking!" Timmashay marched up the hill.

We all worked together on our little spaceship, grabbing parts from the Fiat, carrying them to the site, holding things in place as Timmashay welded.

Roger coaxed me to tell him the entire story of my adventures with ET. When I'd practically told him everything, he said, "Wow, someone should make a movie out of that!"

"Hopefully not while the government's looking for me."

When Michael got off work, our work sped up a little.

Unfortunately, it soon got dark, and we had to go home.

"We're so close!" I moaned as I admired our handiwork. "A couple more hours and we can actually get the thing in the air for a test run!"

"Me and Timmashay will finish up," Mike said. "I'm used to late nights. You guys get to bed."

I gave him a questioning look.

"Hey, most of it's already put together. There really won't be much to do after this."

"No way!" Roger cried. "We're this close!"

My brother frowned, put his arm around his girlfriend. "We got this."

"Yeah? Who's to say you and Timmy here won't just make out all night?"

Timmashay giggled. "The thought had crossed my mind!"

Michael gave her a scolding look. "Stop. I mean, as much as I'd like to..."

His girlfriend looked annoyed. "I know...I've got to see this thing when it's actually working."

I narrowed my eyes at my companion. "Roger's probably not going to go home."

My brother sighed. "Fine. I'll talk it over with dad."

When I opened my mouth to protest, he added, "You know he's not going to let you just sneak out like you did last night."

"Just tell him we're building a treehouse, or working on a car."

"Tell him the truth!" Gertie cried.

Michael left us, and we worked some more.

He returned with a tray of sandwiches and a couple thermoses. "Dad says you'd better be keeping up with your school work."

We finished well after midnight.

Our contraption turned out larger than we originally planned. I could see it maybe fitting three kids and two adults, if the adults didn't stand up, and they sat close together.

Jamie put her hands on her hips. "What should we call it?"

"I dunno. It's just a test model...Prototype One?"

"That name sucks," Roger said. "Let's call it...Thunder Road."

We all stared at him.

"You know...like the Bruce Springsteen song?"

Gertie grinned. "I like it."

We stared at our ugly, badly cobbled together vehicle, debated painting the thing.

"It'll look pretty!" My sister argued.

I just scrunched my face. "Don't be ridiculous. We don't even know if it'll hold together. The Wright Brothers never painted their projects, because they constantly had to throw stuff out and start over."

"Yeah," Mike grumbled. "We've put enough work into it already!"

Gertie tired, and pouty, looked like she would cry soon. "But I want it painted! You always treat me like such a baby!"

Jamie hugged her, patting her back. "C'mon, we can always paint it later when we know it works. Right now we need to test it out. We still don't know if it's going to hold together...Tell you what: How would you like to be the test pilot?"

Gertie gave me a nervous smile. "Only if my brother comes with me."

"What about me?" Roger asked. "I want to go too."

He had provided the materials and the O2, so I thought he deserved a test drive.

We'd done pretty well with the setup, everything sealed tight as a drum with caulking and solder, a windshield, overhead lights for us to see the instruments and books, a fire extinguisher, heater, seats from the Fiat (not the most comfortable things-you couldn't stretch your legs-we'd basically welded them to the floor to give us extra room). The headlights worked, we even engineered an opening in the shield bubble and used the exhaust fan from the vacuum cleaner/prototype toilet to pump air into the cabin for our test flights. Layers of coffee filters kept the dust out, we'd have to remove them later. A huge office chair that had lost its swivel base served as the rear seat.

The engine, though, had been too valuable to just slap down into any hastily assembled space raft. Our dashboard looked like an entertainment center with the TV missing. Jamie literally had `Ground Control'.

When she switched the machine on, our vehicle rattled and groaned, acting like it intended to shake apart, but the welds kept securely in place, and through the Italian made windshield I watched the ground recede beneath us.

The Thunder Road rose higher, at level with the tops of trees. We giddily stared down at our controller, cheering and giving her the thumbs up.

A moment later, Dad came stomping into the clearing.

He looked up and just froze, staring open mouthed at us for an entire minute. "Mother Mary and Joseph."

The awe and mystery only distracted Dad for a moment. He soon looked over his shoulder like a frightened rabbit, rushing to our control station. "Shut it down! Get them back here and turn it off now!"

Jamie's hands rushed across the controls, but I guess she didn't move fast enough, for then Dad unplugged the power supply.

I, my sister and Roger screamed as our ship came hurtling back towards the earth.

I reflected, while the ground rushed up to us, that it might have been a good idea to install some sort of airbag or crash protection system.

Of course, these plans wouldn't have meant very much if I ended up dead or in the hospital, especially if going to the hospital meant being taken away in a black van.

Due to the way the craft had been designed, I couldn't see below me, only out the front. Although psychologically reassuring, it wouldn't have prevented the floor from breaking up and impaling me, or my bones from shattering upon impact.

Roger mashed down the button on the walkie-talkie, yelling into the receiver. "Lori! Hurry! Plug it back in!"

"It's too late! We've lost your position!"

As an unconscious reflex, I tried to stall our descent by stomping the floor like Fred Flintstone.

All of a sudden, everything did stop, and I experienced weightlessness, my glasses drifting above my nose.

Noticing a glow to my right, I stared at my sister.

Her eyes had rolled back in her head, her hands illuminated like she had light bulbs under her skin.

Then I noticed my own hands glowing. Blood trickled out my nose.

"Whoa!" Roger shouted. "Yeah! That's awesome!"

Seconds later, gravity returned, the Thunder Road thumping down on soil as gently as Dorothy's house in The Wizard of Oz, walls and overall structure still whole and intact (Seriously, how does a tornado drop your house without smashing it and you in the process?).

Gertie fainted.

Dad yelled at us the moment the ship's car doors came open. "Good Lord! What are you, insane? Someone could have died flying around in this thing! I almost had a heart attack!"

"What were you doing unplugging it, you ass!" Roger yelled. "You're the reason why we almost died! If not for Elliott and Gertie's Jedi powers—"

Dad's face turned scarlet. I could tell he knew Roger was right, he was just too angry to admit it. "Roger, home!"

When Roger didn't leave, Dad shouted, "Now!"

Only then did Roger leave.

"Kids! Get your butts out of that death trap right now! I'm grounding you from science for the next week!...And this thing is going to the scrap yard where it belongs!"

"Over my dead body!" Timmashay yelled behind him. "Do you know how long I've been busting my ass on this thing?"

Mike put a hand on her shoulder. 'She's right, dad. We've worked some long hours on this."

Dad sighed through his nose, leaning on the spaceship's door frame.

That's when he took a closer look at my sister. "What's wrong with Gertie!"

We quickly carried her out of the vehicle, laying her on the ground to get a better look.

Dad shined a flashlight up and down her, checking for injuries. "What happened, tyke?"

Gertie groaned, wiping her bloody nose. "It's not their fault. I got scared and had to do something. I felt power go out of me, then I got really sleepy. I'm sorry I scared you. I wanna go to bed."

Smiling tenderly, Dad hefted her into his arms.

"We don't have to fly to his planet," my sister mumbled to me. "There's some of his friends close by."

"How close?" I asked, but by then she wouldn't wake up for anything. She sure looked happy, though.

Jamie frowned at her. "I wonder what she meant by that. I mean, if they're just up there, hanging out, we could hitch a ride..."

"Yeah!" I gazed into her eyes, excitement rising in my voice. "They could have the supplies we need and everything!"

Dad sighed. "You really that eager to ditch your old man?"