That put the three boys back in the dome-tent. The mud was completely gone. Their clothes were piled about five feet away from them. Keith and Davy wandered over and redressed. "All that mud just disappeared!" said Keith.
"It was holographic." said Jahv, grinning.
"It sure FELT real enough." remarked Keith.
There was a rustle at the dome-tent. Davy looked over, and grinned. "THEIRS isn't holographic."
Keyro and Martin appeared in the entryway, both plastered in mud. If it weren't for Keyro's large eyes and antennae, it would have been hard to distinguish one from another. But something wasn't quite right. Keyro was supporting most of Martin's weight — rather effortlessly, it looked like — and Martin had a pained expression on his face.
Keith was the first to notice. "What happened?"
Then Martin limped in and it was obvious. There was an ugly gash on his upper leg. The boy was close to tears, but trying to be brave.
"We think there was a sharp tree branch or something under the mud." said Keyro.
"We should clean him up and take him home, quickly." said Keith.
"May I try something?" asked Jahv. "I might be able to heal this much more quickly."
Keith frowned. "Jahv, you may know some first aid, but you can't know anything about treating humans."
"A cut tends to be a cut." said Jahv. "We're not that different."
"Let him help, please." cried Martin. "This hurts too much to wait."
Keith bit his lip, but nodded. Davy and Keyro hauled Martin over to a nearby table. Jahv was already fishing around in his backpack. He brought out what looked like an oversized lunch box with alien script on it. "Basic first aid kit." he explained. He opened it, and very few of the contents looked familiar to either Keith or Davy — except from a few episodes of Star Trek.
Jahv dug around, scratching his left antennae. He was remembering basic procedure for cleaning and treating large cuts. First — clean the area. Medicinal cleaning spray. He found the spray container. "This may sting, Martin." he informed the whimpering boy. Jahv sprayed the cut and Martin screamed, pulling his leg away. Everybody flinched.
When Martin stopped quivering, Jahv inspected the cut. "Well, the spray didn't do any damage, but I have to clean this area to treat it."
"It hurts too much!" insisted Martin. Jahv frowned. Then he thought of an idea. "Keyro? I need your help. Remember when your little cousin cut his arm on that table edge? What you were trained in?"
Keyro nodded, and walked over to Martin. "What are you gonna do?" asked Martin.
"Make it stop hurting." said Keyro. "Martin, I promise I would never hurt you. Please let me help."
Martin frowned, but nodded. Keyro touched his finger to Martin's forehead, and Martin froze like a doll.
"What did you just do to him?!" exclaimed Keith.
"Telepathic anesthesia." explained Jahv. "Only about one in twelve people can do it. Keyro knows how. Martin will be fine. Won't feel a thing. Won't flinch anymore, either."
"Will you be able to bring him out of that?" demanded Keith, as Jahv went abour cleaning the mud out of and from around the cut with the medicinal spray. The mud seemed to dissolve, and the skin around the cut seemed to go down somewhat in swelling.
Jahv nodded. "Of course. About the worst that'll happen is he'll be a little — foggy for a few minutes. Might act a bit silly."
Jahv turned back to the first aid kit and brought out what looked like a small blue sponge. "Medicated bandage. Leave it on until you get close to his home. Then take it off. As quickly as the spray worked, about all that should be left is a small scratch." Jahv pressed the bandage into the wound, where it adhered immediately.
"What about cleaning him off?" asked Davy. "He can't go home covered with mud like that."
"The bandage is water resistant." replied Jahv. "Toss him in the lake on your way out. Keyro?"
The lavendar alien boy walked over, and touched his finger to Martin's forehead again. The boy blinked, yawned, and mumbled. "Huh. M'leg feels better now." Then his eyes opened wider and he got a silly grin on his face. He looked at Keith and Davy. "Hi, you guys!" He stood up, stumbled over, and practically tackled the two of them, of course smearing mud all over both boys.
"Oh, great." said Keith. "Looks like the lake for all three of us."
"Four." said Jahv. "Including Keyro."
"Don't make me splatter you, big brother!" stated Keyro.
Martin, for some reason, had settled on attacking Davy, and was attempting to undo the straps to the older boy's overalls, mumbling, "Wan' his pants."
"I think he's remembering the first time we met." said Keith, trying not to laugh with only slight success. The first time Martin and Keith had met Davy, Keith had called Davy a "dork with baggy pants," which Martin had subsequently yanked off and tossed out of Davy's treehouse.
"Wan' his pants." said Martin again, first attempting to undo one strap and then the other, even as Davy sought to refasten them. Keith couldn't hold in his laughter any longer. "You might as well give them up, Davy. I don't think he's gonna give up."
"All right, fine!" said Davy, standing up (and as such rather unceremoniously dumping Martin to the floor), yanking off his overalls, and tossing them outside the tent, with Martin in close pursuit.
"At least that got him closer to the lake." remarked Davy. "And we really do need to get going, Jahv — Keyro."
"You will return soon, won't you?" asked Jahv, almost pleading. "Sometimes — we both get lonely out here, and you're such good friends."
"We'll be back." said Davy.
"Definitely." added Keith. "You two are the most interesting people I know."
"Thank you." said Jahv.
Davy and Keith headed out of the tent, to find Martin having draped Davy's overalls over his head. "I hope he doesn't sneeze in there." said Davy. "I hope for his sake you didn't fart in there before you took them off." added Keith. The two boys dragged Martin to the lake, where they all washed off the accumulated mud, redressed as needed, and headed back in the direction of Davy's house, where Keith and Martin had left their bicycles. Along the way, Davy and Keith explained how they had sort of visited Jahv's homeworld. "So what was it like?" asked Martin.
"You gotta watch what you eat, that's for sure." said Davy.
"And they've got music that sounds worse than either rap or heavy metal." added Keith.
"And how about that blue rodent-thing in the arcade?" remarked Davy.
"And the toy rifle." said Keith. "Think the Army would like to get their hands on a few thousand of those?"
"Huh??!??!" exclaimed Martin. Davy and Keith laughed. On the rest of the walk home, they explained in full about their latest adventure with the alien boys living in the woods.
Part 5
There was a loud knock at the door of the Dillinger household one morning. Mr. Dillinger never particularly liked visitors, so he opened the door hoping that, at worst, it was some salesman that he could swear at and get rid of quickly.
It wasn't. It was two men in military dress uniform. Whatever Mr. Dillinger had expected, this wasn't it. "Are you Mr. Dillinger?" one of the men asked.
"Yeah." said Mr. Dillinger. "Whataya want?"
"You have a son named Keith?" asked the other man.
By this time, Mrs. Dillinger was at the door, as well, standing several steps back.
"Stepson." said Mr. Dillinger. "Her son, not mine. Don't tell me the little brat has done something to piss off the entire military."
"No, sir." said the first man. "We just want to talk with him. When he's at his grandmother's he plays with a couple of friends in a nearby woods and pond, is that correct?"
"Yeah," said Mr. Dillinger. "It gets him out of the house and out of our hair for a while, so we let him. What of it?"
Unknown to any of the adults, Keith was at the top of the stairs, listening.
"We've had some reports of strange activity in that area," said one of the uniformed men. "Bursts of light and noise, and possible sightings of aliens."
Mr. Dillinger was at a rare loss for words. Finally he spoke. "You clowns are kidding, right?"
"No, sir." said the first man, who was the ranking officer.
"So why come banging at my door?" demanded Dillinger. "Go check out that area. Or the other kids."
"We're doing that." said the second man. "We've had a little trouble identifying the others. But we also need to talk with your son."
"Yeah, well, one of the others is named Martin something-or-other." replied Dillinger. "I can't pronounce the last name. I don't know many people who can. Go find him."
"Sir, your cooperation would be appreciated." urged the ranking officer.
"I'm sure it would, soldier-boy, but seeing as how my taxes pay your salary, I resent you wasting my money chasing after a bunch of little green men and harassing me in the process. You that short on real enemies to fight? Now get out of here!"
With that, Mr. Dillinger slammed the door, and looked out a nearby window until he was certain that the two men had left. Then, without turning around, he yelled, "KEITH! Get your ass down here!"
Keith descended the stairs, but said nothing.
"You and your friends wouldn't be pulling any tricks in those woods, would you?" demanded Dillinger.
"Like what?" asked Keith.
"I'm your father and I won't put up with that kind of backtalk!" barked Dillinger.
"You're NOT my father!" snarled Keith.
"We just had a couple of army-types come by here, making up some stupid story about light-shows and aliens out in those woods!" shouted Dillinger. "You little punks trying to scare people around there or something!?"
"I have no idea what that's all about." said Keith, trying not to sound nervous.
"You little lying PUNK!" roared Dillinger. Before Mrs. Dillinger could react, Dillinger grabbed Keith, who managed to spin away, but in so doing, stumbled and fell across a table. His face hit the floor, there was an audible snap, and when he stood up, his nose was bleeding profusely.
"Keith!" cried Mrs. Dillinger. "Come on, let me take care of that. That looks serious!"
Keith was too angry and scared to even let his mother help him. "Just get AWAY from me!" he snapped, and bolted out the back door and was on his bicycle before either his mother or step-father could catch up to him. He heard both his mother and stepfather calling for him to come back, one pleadingly, the other angrily. But even through the pain of an obvious broken nose, Keith knew there was more to this than he could tell either one of them. And he wanted to give his stepfather a chance to calm down a bit, if such a thing was possible. At least so he wouldn't get really physically abusive.
Blinded now more by tears than pain, Keith rode through streets, alleys, and finally over the hills and fields to get to the woods and pond where his alien friends Jahv and Keyro lived, hidden away in a cloaked dome-tent that you had to know was there even to find it. Keith's nose had bled profusely, to the point where even his shirt was spattered, but it seemed to be letting up. It still hurt, and Keith was certain it was broken. But Jahv and Keyro had recently healed a nasty gash on Martin's leg after an incident at the mud pool. Healed it within a few minutes, for that matter. Hopefully a busted nose wouldn't be any greater a problem for them. And he had to warn them, as well.
Keith found the entrance to the dome-tent, and pulled the panel aside to enter. Jahv was busy at the cobbled-together but immensely-powerful computer that he had built from parts scraped together for him by Keith and several other neighborhood boys. Keyro was watching a video of "Howard the Duck" and was apparently finding it hysterical. So much for a higher order of intelligence in respect to entertainment.
Jahv turned to greet whoever was at the door. Only four people knew that this place was here, and it would be nearly impossible to find by accident. "Keith!" said Jahv happily, then he noticed the boy's condition. Blood smeared across his shirt down his face, and spattered on his jeans, and his nose was quite literally out of joint. "By the twin suns of the homeworld! What happened to you?!"
"You mean — WHO happened." said Keith. "Ah, hell, that's not entirely true. He grabbed me, I pulled away, fell over some furniture. Stupid on my part as much as anything."
Jahv cringed. He, too, was from an unpleasant home environment, which was why he and later Keyro had left. But it had never been this bad! He'd heard that Keith had a difficult time with his modified family, but this was the first real evidence of it he had seen. "Come over here. We can take care of that."
Keith walked over to the desk Jahv had indicated. The alien boy was already fishing around in his backpack.
"Is this gonna hurt?" asked Keith.
Jahv pulled out a device that looked like a small, square flashlight. "Not as much as it does right now, probably." He waved the device around Keith's nose, and a blue light shone from it. "Your nose is definitely broken. Before I can repair it, I'll have to get it back in place. This could hurt a bit." He reached up and adjusted Keith's nose. It stung like crazy, but Keith knew he needed to remain still.
"That's better." said Jahv. "Now, just stay put for another few moments." Jahv raised the device again. This time a green light came out of it. A few seconds later, Jahv turned the device off. "Good as new. Perhaps a bit stronger."
Keith gingerly touched his nose. It felt fine. "Thank you." he said.
"You can wash the blood off your face in the washroom in the back." said Jahv.
Keith looked down at his shirt. "Anything you can do about this?"
Jahv frowned, and shrugged. "Laundry's not exactly our specialty." Indeed, most of the time, he and Keyro wore nothing.
Keith sighed, but at least his nose was okay, and that was what was important. That, and warning his friends. "You guys might be in trouble out here. That's sort of what caused this." Keith explained what he'd overheard, while he washed his face, and was just finishing the brief tale when Davy came into the tent, looking alarmed. "We've got a problem. Keith! What happened to you?"
"My stepfather, some furniture, and my own clumsiness, in that order." said Keith grimly.
"Keith, I don't know your customs or laws, but really, this should be stopped." said Jahv.