Aliens for Dinner (5 page)

Richard spotted the three Dwilbs in the bus station parking lot. They don’t look mean, he thought. Big, yes. Nerdy, yes. But not mean.
So why am I shaking?
he wondered.

He forced himself to walk a little closer. They were at the back of the lot, where the buses were lined up, wearing baseball caps with fake ponytails. They were crouching close to the buses, breathing in exhaust fumes. They were smiling.

Richard’s throat closed up. His hands, clutching a stack of flyers that announced the opening of the recycling center, were
clammy. When the Dwilbs noticed him, he fought the urge to run.

“Hi! Hi!” they called together, jumping to their feet. Richard took another step toward them.

“Hi,” he said. He had never been this close to them before. They smelled. Richard gagged. They smelled like a fish tank with dead fish in it.

“Hi,” he managed to say again. “Come to the recycling plant tomorrow night?” He handed one of them a flyer and all of a sudden he was staring into three sets of Dwilbian eyes. Richard found himself thinking of a movie he had just seen with a scary
Tyrannosaurus rex
in it. The rex was a killer, and its eyes were like these—bright and empty.

“Wouldn’t miss it! Wouldn’t miss it!” said the Dwilbs.

“Great,” said Richard. “Great! I, uh … I have to go,” he added weakly.

“Stay with us. Stay with us,” said the Dwilbs, leaning a little closer. Richard swallowed. They smelled horrible, but he couldn’t seem to move.

“Richard!” Aric’s voice was a shock. “Get away right now! Move it!”

Somehow, Richard moved it.

By eight o’clock on Thursday night the recyling plant was crowded. There were people sitting on rows of folding chairs, and people standing around talking. The noise was really loud. The plant had cement floors and a high ceiling, like a warehouse. A banner hung over the speaker’s stand at the front of the room. “We
recycling!” was painted on it in big green letters.

Richard sat near the back of the hall. He had come to the plant with his mother and Bob in Bob’s van. He had told his mother he wanted to sit in back to watch
out for Henry. But he was really watching for Dwilbs.

He checked the clock on the wall. 8:05. He checked the audience. No Dwilbs. Richard tried to stay calm, but worries dive-bombed his brain like mosquitoes. What if the Dwilbs didn’t show up? What if
Mr: Felshin
didn’t show up? So many things could go wrong!

Bob walked to the speaker’s stand and picked up the microphone. There was an earsplitting screech, and the room went dark. Now the only light in the room was on Bob.

“Hello, hello,” he said to the audience. “I’m Bob Baxter, and I’d like to welcome you here this evening …”

Bob introduced Mr. Felshin and Richard sighed a small sigh of relief. At least The Sandman had made it. Then he heard a shuffling noise from the back of the room. He turned.

There was no mistaking them, even in the dark. Thirteen oversized guys, all wearing hats with earflaps, were filing in. They
sat down right behind Richard, so close he could smell them.

As Mr. Felshin stepped up to the stand, they all began whispering something. Richard could just make it out. “Are you ready? Are you ready?” They whispered it over and over again, rocking back and forth in their seats. Richard’s heart thudded. The Dwilbs were whipping themselves into a frenzy. They were getting ready to strike!

“
Come on, Sandman!
” he wanted to scream. “
Get boring! Talk about the copy machiner!
”

Mr. Felshin did even better. He cleared his throat and told everyone the title of his speech— “101 Ways to Reuse Plastic Bags.”

“One,” he said, in his slow, droning way. “Used plastic bags … make wonderful storage containers. They will hold everything … from paper clips … to rubber-bands… to pushpins.

“Two,” he went on. “Used plastic bags make excellent gloves. They can be used to
pick up … all kinds of things … Things … you don’t want to touch … with your bare hands. I am sure all you pet owners … know what I mean.

“Three,” he said. “Used plastic bags make fine … emergency rain hats.” He smiled. “Many is the time … I have used an old plastic bag … this way.

“Four …”

Richard heard a noise behind him. He turned. The Dwilbs were giggling—strange, high-pitched giggles that didn’t fit at all with their big bodies. Then one of them stood up and began to bounce—up and down, up and down. The rest watched for a moment. Then they, too, jumped to their feet and started bouncing. Soon they were all bouncing together. They bounced so hard that the earflaps on their hats flew up and down, too, just like wings.

“Aric!” thought Richard. “It’s working! They’re bored silly!”

Richard heard a tiny snuffling noise from his shirt pocket. Aric was laughing. This had never happened before.

The Dwilbs were lined up now, and singing the hokey pokey song. They had big goofy smiles on their faces. By the end of
the first line the whole audience was staring at them.

Mr. Felshin, though, kept right on talking. It was just like assembly, when he talked and talked and talked even though nobody was paying attention. “Six,” he said. “Did you know that … you can sprout seeds … and grow plant cuttings … under
used plastic bags?” He didn’t wait for an answer.

“Seven. You can blow them up like balloons … and then … pop them. This appeals to young children … probably because they make a very loud noise … almost like a pistol shot … when they are popped. The plastic bags, I mean … not the children.” Mr. Felshin smiled at his little joke.

The Dwilbs, meanwhile, had stopped singing. They were still standing in line, but suddenly they looked surprised. Then they all started to cry.

“Yow!” Richard started to feel a little giddy. The Dwilbs were bored to tears! They definitely had boredomitis!

But they were attracting too much attention—sobbing and sniffling and blowing their noses so loudly that hardly anyone was listening to Mr. Felshin anymore. “Boo
hoo!” they cried. “Boo hoo hoo!” Their faces, once so weird and scary, were now dripping with tears.

“Aric! The audience is watching! How are we ever going to get these guys out of here? Everyone will see us!”

As he sent the thought to Aric, the Dwilbs stopped crying. They stood there quietly, their eyes wide and a little frightened.

“Ten,” droned Mr. Felshin. “They make wonderful mitten liners for … tiny little hands …”

The Dwilbs didn’t move. They stood absolutely still. Richard realized they were getting bored stiff.

“I will use the Ganoobian Mind Control Inducer.” Aric’s voice came into Richard’s head.

“What’s that?”

The little alien climbed onto Richard’s shoulder. He was holding a silver object that looked like a tiny dog whistle. “A device that causes mass brainlock,” he said. “Everyone within hearing will be affected.”

“You mean they’ll stop thinking?”

“Their minds will stop working. For eight Earth minutes—no more,” said Aric. “And all memory of those eight minutes will be erased.”

Richard was indignant. “How come you didn’t use it before?” he demanded.

“It costs a small fortune,” said Aric sternly. “And you know this mission is on a tight budget. Remember how I came here? In a cookie? Please do not complain to me!”

Richard knew there was no point in arguing. “All right, okay,” he said. “Just hurry. They’re already stiff as boards.”

It was true. All thirteen Dwilbs stood there motionless. They looked like the life-size cardboard figures of actors that sometimes stand in movie lobbies.

“Hold your ears,” said Aric. And then he blew.

It was like the game Statues, thought Richard, when everybody freezes. Aric raised the Mind Control Inducer to his lips, and the audience froze. Now not only were the Dwilbs stiff, but everyone else was stiff, too. Mr. Felshin stood at the podium, mouth open. He couldn’t say another word about plastic bags, at least for now. The scene was completely strange. For a moment Richard was frozen, too, staring at it.