The Pineview Incident (3 page)

Chapter 4

The alien polygamists landed in town Saturday morning.

Donna didn’t see their old truck and two Suburbans at first. It was the reaction of everyone else that showed her the Gilbertsons had invaded. One minute, Donna was pulling her “Love the Earth” reusable shopping bags out of her trunk in the parking lot of the bustling grocery store, and the next, everyone gasped at once and froze mid stride like some parody of the Twilight Zone.

The vehicles bounced their way down the road as if in slow motion. Donna had the urge to run into the middle of the street and throw her hands out in warning. She wanted to yell at the hapless family to turn and run, but she stayed as rooted in her spot as all the others.

The old truck turned into the feed store while one of the Suburbans parked in the K-Mart lot. The final Suburban creaked its way into the grocery store parking lot and pulled into the handicapped slot.

The elder Gilbertsons slowly opened the doors and got out. Ma Gilbertson was indeed handicapped, thanks to an unfortunate milking accident, and needed a walker to get about.

They looked perfectly normal, even happy.

Donna shook her head violently. “Of course they’re normal, you idiot,” she whispered angrily to her paranoid self.

Donna looked around at the others on the street. Their fearful and angry expressions turned her stomach. The older couple smiled at a few people in the parking lot as they shuffled their way into the building.

The churning in Donna’s stomach turned into a knot, and the knot hardened into courage.

Donna had to clear her throat twice, but she managed to say clearly, “Well hello there, Mr. and Mrs. Gilbertson.”

Every head within earshot turned toward Donna.

The elder Gilbertsons raised their hands in greeting. “’Morning to you as well, Mrs. Vanderwald.”

Donna gripped her eco-friendly shopping bags so hard her knuckles turned white. She was ashamed she'd given in to the town’s paranoia, even if for a moment. How anyone could even consider these two, wrinkled people to be a danger was beyond her.

Alien supremacists my butt
, she thought. Surely aliens would be sexier—at least they always were in the movies.

She took three steps toward the old couple. “How’s the farm doing?”

“My God, she’s talking to them,” whispered a teen-age girl. Donna turned to see her cover her mouth. The girl's mother, stood there agape.

“Farm’s doin’ well, thank you. We’ve just come for our regular supplies.” Mrs. Gilbertson waved a long list. “And maybe a little more than the regular. We’re in need of some special orders. Very special orders.”

“Hush now, Martha.” Mr. Gilbertson shot his wife a warning glare. “Don’t even give a hint, remember?”

Mrs. Gilbertson nodded and put her finger to her lips conspiratorially.

Donna inwardly cringed. Behind her, she could almost feel the townspeople’s paranoia grow.

“A farm like yours with so many people on it must need special orders all the time. Right?” She hoped the couple would take the hint.

“Not like this.” Mrs. Gilbertson leaned in as if to whisper, but spoke painfully loudly. “This is a super secret order. Not even the store manager knows what’s in it. We’re just here to get the boxes.”

Donna openly winced.

“I knew it,” hissed someone behind her.

Donna realized maybe silence was the best protection for the family. “Well, you’d better get to it,” she said weakly.

“You have a wonderful day, Mrs. Vanderwald,” said Mr. Gilbertson. “And mums the word.” He winked at Donna and turned to enter the store. His genuine smile made Donna feel helpless.

How could she stop the town's insanity if the Gilbertsons seemed bound and determined to confirm the town’s wildest fears?

“You are so brave.” The teen girl looked at Donna with wide eyes. “I can’t believe you talked to them.”

“At least we know for sure now,” said the girl's mother. She grabbed her daughter’s hand and headed back to her car. “Come on, Brittany. We aren’t shopping at a store where the manager helps aliens.”

Donna watched as several cars exited the parking lot. She sighed heavily and turned back to the store.

“What are you going to do?” asked one of the few remaining customers. Donna recognized her as one of the high school teachers.

“I’m going to go shopping,” Donna said. “I have a feeling I’ll need to stock up.’

#

Mark tried hard to focus on the monotonous buzz of his clippers, but the excited voices of the men kept breaking into his Zen state.

“The whole family got new clothes, right down to the boots. They just marched right into the store and laid down the money.”

Mark grunted and kept cutting. The man had a point. Farmers never bought new clothes until the crops came in.

“What did they buy at the feed store?” asked Chief Michaels.

“Electric fencing, antiseptic wash, sheep clippers and vitamin supplements.”

“Interesting.” The chief rubbed his chin as if contemplating some kind of important clue.

“Oh no, not you too,” said Mark.

“It’s a puzzle, Mark, and I’m responsible for the safety of this town. If there is something going on, I need to know about it.”

Mark snapped off the trimmer and brushed the back of Cory Edward’s neck with a vengeance. “The Gilbertsons run a farm and raise sheep. Where exactly is the puzzle in that?”

“Ouch.” Cory rubbed his neck. “Sheesh, Mark, take your frustration out on someone else.”

“You gotta admit, the fact that none of them would tell anyone what’s up is a little strange.” Chief Michaels pointed at men in the room.

“Did anyone ask any of the Gilbertsons what's going on?” asked Mark.

Cory rubbed his red neck and handed Mark a ten.  “Donna Vanderwald did, and Old Man Gilbertson all but confirmed our suspicions. We need to send someone in as a spy and get a good look at what the Gilbertson’s are up to.”

“He did?” The chief slid into the barber chair and leaned toward Cory. “What did he say?”

“Old Gil and his wife both confirmed they needed some special supplies.” Cory made quote marks with his hands. “Then they got unopened boxes from the grocery store and left without any explanation. They even told Donna it was for some super secret project.”

“I think you may be right, Cory,” Mark said. “Secret ingredients from a grocery store combined with new boots confirm the fact that an entire family has been taken over by perverted, communist aliens.”

“If you have a better idea, why don’t you lay it out,” Cory challenged Mark. “All I hear from you are a bunch of snide comments and sarcastic one liners.”

“I have a much better idea—just call them,” Mark said. He pointed at the chief’s leather belt where an expensive cell phone next to the handcuffs. “You have the technology to put this whole thing to rest right here and now, so use it.”

“That would be rude,” said Cory. “We need to use some tact here. Spies are tactful.”

“No, you need to use your phone, Cory.” Mark poked at the rectangular bulge in Cory’s pocket. “They can tell you what's going on themselves.”

“I think you may have something there, Cory.” Chief Michaels pulled out a small pad of paper and began writing. “Spies would be able to see the truth without being influenced by alien mind control devices.”

“Mind control devices?” Mark stared at the police chief and threw up his hands in defeat. “Now they have alien mind control devices!”

Chief Michaels ignored him. “But who should we send? It has to be someone fearless who’s familiar with the land. Someone who can’t be swayed by aliens. Someone everyone trusts.”

“And someone they would never suspect,” said Cory with a meaningful glance at Mark.

“Are you insane?” Mark looked between the two men. “Never mind. Stupid question.”

Chief Michaels was writing wildly. “We need to know exactly what is going on at that farm, and you’re the best we’ve got. Everyone believes you, you know that land like the back of your hand from all those years of hunting, and you’re the least likely to be overcome by death rays and such.”

“How the hell do you figure that?” demanded Mark.

“It makes sense,” said Cory.

“The hell it does!”

“Fine, we'll send someone else.” Chief Michaels ripped out a sheet of paper and threw it in the garbage.

Mark shook his head. “There’s no stopping you, is there?” He seemed to be completely alone in his belief that black vans were a normal part of life and there was a rational reason for their presence. The entire town had lost its collective mind. If he was the only sane man left, he was the only one who could possibly stop the insanity.

“Maybe you're right; maybe I should be the one.” He looked around his comfortable shop and then back at the men. “I can get a small group of hunters together and go see what’s up.”

“You’ll need to make sure they have strong minds just in case, you know, of mind rays or something.” Cory wriggled his fingers at his newly shaved head.

“You’re right about that.” Mark scratched his head. “None of the men in town have strong minds, so I can’t take any of them. I guess the only strong one in town is Donna Vanderwald. I’ll see if she can go.”

“Wait.” Chief Michaels looked from Cory to Mark. Did you say Donna could go?”

Cory looked at the barber and swallowed. “You and Donna? Together?”

“Of course, together,” Mark snapped. “You said it had to be someone with a strong mind, and she seems to be the only one with a lick of sense right now. Besides, we're both adults and can work together.”

“Have you ever done that before?” Chief Michaels and Cory both looked mildly concerned.

“Done what, spy on friends?”

“Well... yes... but with Donna. You and she haven't always gotten along,” said Cory.

Mark just rolled his eyes and waved him off. “If you and Emily the tree-hugger can be friends, so can we.”

“Good. It’s all settled then.” The police chief retrieved the wadded up paper and smoothed it out. “I know there is something strange going on, and I’m treating this as an official investigation. Mark, you’ll need to report everything to me.”

“Have you ever had one of those official investigations, chief?” Mark whipped the cape around the chief’s neck and tightened it. “I don’t ever remember you investigating anything. Ever.”

“Shut up and cut,” the chief ordered.

Chapter 5

Donna felt as if the whole world pressed down on her shoulders as she made her way to the bowling alley. Somehow, by simply trying to help an odd family, she’d become a local hero and made the whole situation with the Gilbertsons worse.

Luckily, the hapless family was too absorbed in its secret project to notice the fact that they’d been treated as freaks.

And it didn’t stop with the Gilbertsons. While Donna had been cheered as a hero for simply saying hello, the poor grocer and farm supply owner who’d helped the Gilbertsons load their vehicles were now viewed as traitors and possible hosts of parasitic aliens.

She opened the door to the bowling alley with the same enthusiasm as attending a funeral for someone you don’t like.

Actually, depending on the person who died, a funeral might be more fun.

“There she is, the woman of the day,” someone called cheerfully.

Donna hunched over and pretended not to hear. It didn’t work.

“The alley manager got you a chocolate shake on the house, Donna.” Mayor Cassidy plopped a tall glass of chocolate down at Donna’s regular spot and motioned for her to sit.

Donna swallowed against the sick feeling in her stomach, but managed a smile at the mayor as she slid onto the chair and tried to disappear in its plastic folds.

Cassidy patted Donna’s shoulder. “Courage should always be rewarded.”

Donna should have refused the drink, but she found herself in dire need of chocolate right then. She took a small sip and let the cold drink numb her mouth and ease her mind.

But the shake left a sour taste behind.

“Maybe it wasn’t courage. Maybe, I just wanted to warn a neighbor,” Donna mumbled into her straw.

She looked around and realized most of the people in the room were completely absorbed in their own conversations. In fact, no one had even tried to start a game of bowling and all the lanes remained dark. Maybe, just maybe, if she kept her head low, she could slip out and escape.

She sucked on the thick chocolate and listened to the people talk. The whole situation had moved from annoyingly funny to almost dangerous. The same people who had gossiped about the juicy possibility of over-sexed aliens were now ready to take up torches and march on the Gilbertson homestead.

Donna couldn’t finish the shake. Her stomach was twisted into knots and if she drank any more, it would be coming back up.

She glanced around the room, hoping she could slip away unnoticed, but a pair of pale blue eyes caught hers.

Mark was sitting in his normal spot watching her.

For a moment, Donna couldn’t move a muscle. She and Mark stared at each other—just like they did year after year in school.

Then, Mark stood and marched toward Donna. She heard herself let out a small squeak and her muscles tensed in preparation for a fight, or a mad dash for the door, whichever.

“They say you confronted aliens like some kind of secret agent or something. I’ve known you for too many years to believe you’ve fallen for all this alien sex insanity. You’re too smart for that.” Mark’s tone was soft despite his rough words. “What are you up to?”

Donna needed to clear her throat to speak, but it wouldn't clear. She and Mark had spent the last thirty years trying not to talk to each other, and now that she needed to talk, Donna found the task a bit difficult.

“I haven’t fallen for anything,” she said. She was pleased her voice remained calm despite the tension that roiled through her body. “I was trying to ask Ma and Pa Gilbertson what was happening at their place. I wanted to clear up this whole mess. Unfortunately, the Gilbertson’s only made things worse with their answers.” Donna waved her hand at the room full of people. “It was these idiots who made it into some kind of sci-fi spectacle.”

Mark’s mouth twisted to the side like it always did when he was deep in thought. Donna relaxed just a bit. That face had been adorable in first grade, and it was just as cute now.

Donna blinked twice and tried not to think about the fact she’d just thought of Mark as cute.

“Meet me out back in five,” Mark whispered. “I have a plan.” Then he made his way to the bar and slipped out the rusted side door.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Donna mumbled. She looked around to make sure no one had seen them talk.

For the next five minutes she recited every reason she’d ever had to hate Mark Lewis. When the five minutes were up, she shot out the back door by the bathrooms.

Mark stood along the wooden fence at the back of the bowling alley’s parking lot. Donna had the sudden urge to run away before he saw her.

Then he looked up and nodded at her.

Grow up woman! You’re almost menopausal—act like it!
The voice in Donna's head sounded way too much like her mother, but it was right. It was time she stopped running from Mark.

“So, what’s your plan?” Donna forced her voice to sound carefree as she walked toward the man she hated most in the world.

“The men want me to put together a group to go spy on the Gilbertsons.”

“Wait, I thought you said this whole thing was crazy.”

“It is. That’s why I want to be in charge and it’s why I need your help.”

“You need my help to spy on a family we both believe is doing nothing wrong? How exactly will that help?”

“If I can show these idiots nothing weird is happening at that farm, then I—”

The back door to the alley burst open.

“I saw him go outside somewhere.” Mayor Cassidy’s silhouette appeared in the bright light of the doorway. “Mark? You out here?”

“Meet me at my shop tomorrow at closing time,” Mark hissed. He walked back toward the bowling alley. “Just needed a little time to think things through,” he called to the mayor.

Donna backed up into the shadow by the fence.

“What’s your answer?” asked the police chief as Mark strode through the door.

“I’ll do it.” The door banged shut behind Mark.

#

Donna paused outside the shop and wondered again why she came here. Even with all the customers gone for the day, the place smelled of chew, hair tonic, aftershave and shampoo, and she didn’t want to go any further. The barbershop was no-woman's-land, and she didn't belong here.

Besides, Mark was her sworn enemy, and she liked it that way. Didn’t she?

She looked at the dusty windows which dimly reflected the sunset and remembered days waiting for John outside of Mark’s place. Today, however, her husband wasn’t here.

Except for a few college years, Mark Lewis had plagued her life since she could remember. He was always around, like a wart that wouldn’t go away.

“This is a bad idea, Donna.”

She jumped when she realized she’d said it out loud. Even saying it out loud didn't convincer her of the words. Despite all her attempts to convince herself otherwise, something deep inside her wanted this to be a good idea. She wanted Mark to be right.

“Well, it's not.” She turned on her heel to leave when she heard the tinkling of the door.

“You wanna talk out here?” asked Mark gruffly.

Donna stiffened, squared her shoulders, and began marching toward the door. “No, inside is just fine.”

The cleanliness of the shop surprised her. Given the spit that stained the sidewalk and bushes outside, she’d always believed the barber shop would be a large version of the messy garage her late husband tinkered in, but the place looked pristine. It even smelled rather pleasantly of men's products. The floor sparkled, the chairs were neatly lined up, and the counters, though full of manly sounding bottles, were clean and orderly.

“Never been in here, have you?”

“No,” she said, still looking around.

“Most women stare like that when they come in. They think the place should look like a cave or something.” Mark chuckled to himself.

Donna cleared her throat. She reminded herself she really didn’t want to be here, no matter how clean it looked. Actually, she didn’t want to be anywhere near Mark’s shop. All the scissors reminded her of the time he cut off her butt-length braid in sixth grade.

“So, what's this big plan of yours?” she asked before she could get angry about the braid incident.

“What do you think about me going in and spying on the Gilbertson place? Do you think they’ll believe me when I tell them nothing is happening there?”

“I think they're so busy making up ridiculous lies they'll never believe the truth. I think you’re about to get yourself into a world of trouble.” That thought bothered her. “At best, the men will think you’ve been taken over by an alien and decide to dissect you.”

Mark scratched his head. “I hadn’t thought about the dissection thing. You may be right about that. But we need to do
something.
This whole mess is going to explode and someone is likely to get hurt.”

“Most likely you,” Donna said. No reason to beat around the bush with Mark. Neither of them needed to impress the other; it couldn't be done.

“That’s why I need your help. The men in town want me to be the spy, but I can’t do it alone and God knows I can’t take any of them. I want you to come with me.”

Donna felt her mouth drop open. “You want me to wha—”

“Look, I know our past has been pretty rough, but you and I are the last two sane people in town. If we have any chance of helping the Gilbertsons, we have to work together. Besides, you have the best chance of resisting the mind control devices.” Mark grinned at her like a mischievous little boy.

“Mind control devices?” Donna raised her eyebrows and looked at Mark. “They have mind control devices?”

“That's what I heard.”

“How did that rumor start?”

“Do you really want to know?”

Donna thought for a moment and shook her head. “No, not really.”

“Look, Chief Michaels and Mayor Brown think that since I worked as a wilderness guide, I'm the best person to spy on the Gilbertsons. I don’t want to go alone because they'll never believe me. You’re the widow of a pastor, and everyone believes pastors’ wives. Do you still own hunting gear?”

Donna looked at him, wondering if he was entirely sane. “You want the two of us to work together? As a team?”

Mark looked at Donna and then at the floor. “I know it’s crazy, but it’s not any crazier than a town believing one long haired guy and a few black vans means aliens with mind control devices have taken over a farm full of fat people.”

“True.” Donna looked out the window to watch a group of teens giggle and squeal their way down the street. She tried to remember what it was like to be carefree.

Then she remembered Mark had taken much of her carefree-ness away. Memories rushed in, and the old anger resurfaced.

“Why drag me into this?” she asked him. “You're buddies with every hunter in the county. Ask one of them to help you.”

“I’m not happy about confiding in you, but you’re my best friend’s widow and the smartest one in this damned town full of idiots. I knew you’d see what the others are blind to.”

Donna was stunned. He’d just complimented her—if being called the smart idiot was a compliment.

“The Gilbertsons all but sealed their fate with all those cryptic answers. It's going to take a lot of work to fix this mess.” Donna chewed on her lip for a moment. He'd made an attempt at being nice; maybe it was time she did the same. “I never really pegged you for the civic type. The Gilbertsons need our help, and the town needs a good dose of reality. I'm glad you want to help.”

“I don’t really care about this town or that crazy family,” snapped Mark. “I just want life to get back to normal around here.”

His words stung more than they should have. She recognized the odd feeling as disappointment, though why she felt disappointment was beyond her. Maybe she'd expected a different side of the bitter man to come out now that she’d seen his shop, but he was still the old, angry Mark. He'd never change.

As much as Donna wanted to help the Gilbertsons and return some sanity to the town, she wasn’t ready to make a pact with this devil to do it.

“If you don’t care about the Gilbertsons or the town, then there is no reason to have this discussion,” she stated flatly.

“If you do care, then we need to have it,” he shot back. “If we don’t stop this mess, no one will. Someone’s gonna get hurt and hurt bad. ’Course, maybe it’s only you that you worry about. Maybe you hate this town as much as you hated your life.”

“I didn’t hate my life.” Her hands balled into fists as she nearly growled the words at him. “I just didn’t realize how much I loved it until it was gone. But that’s still better than being too much of a coward to have a life.”

Donna didn’t even know if he replied. She walked out onto the sidewalk before he got a single word out.

#

“You look as nervous as a cow in a bull pen,” said Hannah as she brought Donna a decaf latte. “Maybe you should go bowling. It'll take your mind off your troubles.”

Donna’s eyes threw daggers at her friend. Hannah backed up and put her hands up in surrender. “Whoa, there. Okay, not bowling. Maybe you could try yoga.”