Aliens for Dinner (4 page)

His mother gave him a sharp look. She seemed wide awake now. “Why are you telling me this?” she asked.

“I just need a little of my allowance in advance,” said Richard. “Only a few dollars, Mom. Please. Please?” His mother frowned, but for some reason Bob was smiling.

“Sorry,” said his mother. “You’re going to have to live without them. Now eat some more of your dinner, please.”

“I used to love those Space Lords
comics,” Bob said to Richard. “They were really fun. Really fun. I collected them, too.”

“You did?” asked Richard.
On Dwilb?
he almost added, but he stopped himself.

“I did,” said Bob. “As a matter of fact, I still have a few.” He grinned. “The first Space Lords comics were so great. So great.
Especially numbers one to six. So I kept them.”

Richard stared at Bob. “You mean you have the very first Space Lords comic ever published?
The Space Lords Creation Myth
?”

Bob nodded. Richard could hardly believe it. Even Mutant Splendor didn’t have that one. It was really old.

“How about the second one?” asked Richard. “
Conquest of the Drams
?”

Bob nodded again. “I think so,” he said. He took another bite of spaghetti. “I could bring them over sometime if you like.”

“Wow! That would be great!”

“It’s a deal,” said Bob. Then he turned to Richard’s mother. “This is a wonderful meal, Harriet,” he said. “Just wonderful.” He and Mrs. Bickerstaff smiled at each other for a long time.

Richard put down his fork and sent a thought to Aric. “Aric! Maybe he’s human after all! He didn’t get bored. And besides, how could he have those comics if he was from Dwilb?”

Aric’s voice came into Richard’s head
loud and clear. “Face it, Richard,” he said. “Bob is not an alien. He is just a man who says things twice—and who is in love with your mother.”

Richard let the thought sink in. By the time his plate was clean he’d decided he was glad Bob wasn’t a Dwilb. Maybe he did say things twice. Maybe he was a little boring. But someone as old as Bob who still had his Space Lords comics couldn’t be that bad. He might even be okay.

As they finished up their spaghetti, Richard and Bob traded Space Lords stories. It was a lot of fun. When Bob came to the end of one called
Fearella, Space Empress
, Mrs. Bickerstaff stood up.

“It’s getting late,” she said with a yawn. “How about some dessert?”

“Sure, Mom,” said Richard.

“Harriet! I guess this has been kind of boring for you,” said Bob.

Mrs. Bickerstaff yawned again. “A little,” she said. Then she smiled. “I’ll get us some ice cream.” Bob jumped up to help her.

Over dessert she mentioned that she and Bob were going out on Thursday. “The new recycling plant opens that night,” she told Richard. “Bob is on the board of directors.”

“I’m giving the guided tour,” said Bob.

“Oh, is it open to the public?” asked Richard.

“Definitely,” said Bob. “Definitely. We’re having speeches, a tour, and a demonstration of the new equipment. I’m hoping we get a good turnout.”

Aric had been quiet for a long time. Now he spoke up. “The Dwilbs hate recycling,” he said. “If they know of this event, they will show up. They will try to wreck the place!”

Suddenly Richard knew what had to happen Thursday. He and Aric had to give the Dwilbs boredomitis!

“Can I come to the opening, too?” he asked his mother.

“Why, of course, sweetie,” said Mrs. Bickerstaff.

“We know we’ve got to bore them,” said Richard. “But that’s all we know.”

It was later that night, and Richard and Aric were still trying to figure out how to trap the Dwilbs. Richard was lying in bed. The only light in the room came from Aric, who gave off a faint pink glow in the dark.

“Bore them … bore them,” mused Aric.

Richard smiled. “Speaking of boring, did you see my mom when I was talking like The Sandman? She practically fell asleep!”

“Yes,” said Aric. “Your imitation of Mr. Felshin was not bad.”

Suddenly Richard sat up in bed. “That’s it!” he exclaimed. “I mean,
he’s
it! Mr. Felshin!”

“Mr. Felshin?”

“Our secret weapon! The most boring talker on the planet! If we can get him to talk to the Dwilbs—”

“By the Great Gazook!” said Aric. “You are right!” He was so excited that he glowed bright pink, like a neon sign. “That man can bore anyone into a deep, deathlike coma. His power is fearsome! The Dwilbs will not know what hit them!”

“So we’ve got to get him to the plant on Thursday,” said Richard. “Because the Dwilbs will be there, right?”

“We will make sure of it,” said Aric.

“How?” asked Richard.

“A mere detail,” snapped Aric. “The important thing is to get Mr. Felshin to speak to them.” He sat down in Richard’s baseball glove.

“He must deliver a speech,” said Aric. “A long, long speech. One that will give the Dwilbs a sudden, severe case of boredomitis. Once they are bored stiff,” he went
on, “the Brigade can ship them back to Dwilb. And Earth will be saved.”

“Sounds great,” said Richard. All at once he felt really tired. It was getting very late. “Can we figure the rest of this out tomorrow?” he asked sleepily.

“It has already been figured out,” boomed Aric. “By a certain Ganoobian warrior of truly superior intelligence. Once again he has faced terrible odds on his mission. A ridiculous budget. Faulty communications. A ruthless enemy force. And once again he has overcome them—”

Aric was interrupted by a loud snort. Richard was sound asleep.

    The next day Aric told Richard his plan. Phase One, he said, consisted of two phone calls. The first was to a woman named Marge La Farge, president of a recycling group called the Use It Againers. She was supposed to be the first speaker Thursday night.

On Tuesday after school, Richard dialed her number. Aric spoke into the telephone,
doing an amazing imitation of Bob’s voice.

“Marge. Marge,” he said. “It’s Bob. Listen, there’s been a last minute change in the program on Thursday. Can you speak after the tour, instead of before?”

“Of course,” said Marge, in a high, fluttery voice. “That will give me more time to get ready. Public speaking makes me so nervous.”

“Great, Marge. Great. See you then.” Aric signaled to Richard to hang up. Then he had him dial Bob’s number.

“Hello, Bob. This is Marge,” said Aric. Now his voice sounded like Marge crossed with a bullfrog. “I have some good news and some bad news, Bob. The bad news is that I won’t be able to speak on Thursday. I have the flu.” Aric honked loudly when he said this.

“Gee, that’s a shame, Marge. A real shame,” said Bob.

“The good news is that my wonderful friend Phil Felshin has agreed to take my place,” croaked Aric. “You must have heard of Phil. He’s the principal of the elementary
school. And he’ll be more than happy to open the evening with a few words. I’ve already asked him.”

Richard held his breath. Had Bob heard what a terrible speaker Mr. Felshin was?

No. “Marge! Thanks! Thanks!” said Bob. “It’s great that you got a pinch hitter. And on such short notice, too.”

“Oh, think nothing of it,” honked Aric. When he got off the phone he and Richard smiled at each other. So far, so good.

“And now, Phase Two,” Aric said to Richard in his normal booming voice. “Are you ready to visit your principal?”

“I will make any sacrifice to save Earth,” said Richard. “Even if it means talking to The Sandman. Let’s go.”

A few minutes later Richard and Aric were at school. The building was shadowy and quiet. Richard’s footsteps, in his hightops, made a loud scrunching noise as he walked down the empty hallway to Mr. Felshin’s office.

The principal seemed very surprised when Richard knocked on his door.

His jaw dropped when Richard told him why he had come.

“The board of directors wants me to speak? Really?” Mr. Felshin flushed, and his voice shook just a little. Richard realized he was very pleased.

“They’ve heard about the talks you give
over the PA system,” said Richard. “And how all the kids like them so much.” Richard crossed his fingers inside his pockets. He wasn’t used to lying.

“They heard you talk about important stuff,” Richard went on. “Like not being wasteful and respecting the environment and stuff. So they thought you’d be perfect. It’s Thursday night at eight.”

“Thursday?” Mr. Felshin frowned. “Goodness … I don’t know. My wife, Edwina, and I … attend our ballroom dancing class on Thursdays.”

“Oh, no!” gasped Richard. It had never occurred to him that Mr. Felshin might not be able to make it. This was a disaster!

He beamed a thought to Aric.
What do I do now
?

But Aric was silent. Richard was on his own.

“But—this is for such a good cause,” said Richard. He started sweating. “It’s important. I mean, it’s important in a major way, sir. The board members know what a good influence you are on your students.
I think they’re depending on you. I really do!” Richard’s voice broke. He was ready to get down on his knees.

“Besides,” he said, “you can have all the time you like and talk about anything!”
No matter how incredibly boring it is
, he wanted to add. But he didn’t.

“Well …” Mr. Felshin picked up a pencil and put it down. He took a drink of water, which made his bow tie wiggle. Richard held his breath.

“Well … all right,” said Mr. Felshin finally. “I suppose the tango can wait … And Edwina will understand … This is for a good cause, after all.”

“Oh, thank you, sir,” said Richard. His knees were shaking. “You’ll never know what this means to everyone,” he added.

And this time he was telling the absolute truth.

    “I can’t believe you fell asleep!” Richard said to Aric. It was later that day, and they were back in his room.

“I could not help it. He has the most
boring voice I have ever heard,” said Aric. “It is more boring than Graxian folk singing. Or Drane poetry.” The little alien was silent for a moment.

“Now,” he said quietly, “we must discuss Phase Three.”

“Phase Three?”

“We must make sure that the Dwilbs come to the recycling center on Thursday night,” said Aric.

“How do we do that?”

“We must invite them.” Something in Aric’s voice made Richard uneasy. Then he got it.

“You mean,
I
have to invite them, don’t you?” he said. Aric nodded. Richard’s heart started pounding. He wanted to stay as far away from the Dwilbs as he could. But, he realized, Aric was right. They had to be sure the Dwilbs were there on Thursday. Otherwise their whole plan would fall apart.

“Remember, you are an honorary member of the Brigade,” said Aric.

“How could I forget?” said Richard. He took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”