Friday, November 8, 2019

Tom Jolly - "The Cereal Bowl of Indestructibility"


Editor's Introduction: An insurance claims adjuster usually has a fairly boring day, but not in this case, as Joe Parker stumbles across...

The Cereal Bowl of Indestructibility
by Tom Jolly

 Joe Parker pursed his lips and hesitated with his pen hovering above the insurance form. Though he was the claims adjuster, he’d offered to help Ralph fill out the claim forms for his trailer because Ralph was illiterate. He’d known Ralph ever since elementary school, the last stab at higher education that Ralph had attempted. Ralph and his mother had lived off Social Security while he got odd jobs here and there, then she up and died of lung cancer, leaving him nothing but the trailer he was living in, squatting on an abandoned piece of property. It was almost incredible that the trailer had been insured, but Joe looked out for Ralph like a little brother, and made sure that one way or the other, the payments had been made.
“You told me earlier that your trailer was destroyed by a hurricane,” he said to Ralph. “The problem we’re going to have with that is that there hasn’t been a hurricane recorded within two hundred miles for over six months. I can help you file the claim, but the head office will probably kick it back. What really happened?”
Ralph Borden looked small and trapped, sitting across the diner table from Joe, hands fidgeting with his coffee cup. “What really happened?” His voice was thin and reedy. “It’s a little hard to believe, Joe. Can’t we just stick with the hurricane story?”
Joe shook his head. “What really destroyed your trailer, Ralph? This is your old buddy Joe talking to you. Give it to me straight.”
Ralph let out a defeated sigh, splaying his hands out flat on the table as though trying to stabilize himself. “Well, this might sound a little crazy, but this alien gave me a bowl, and then it died, and some other aliens came to get the bowl back from me. When their space ship took off, it was too close to my home, and it sort of sucked the mobile up into the air and dropped it a bit. Just like a hurricane would.” He shook his head and couldn’t look Joe in the eyes. “I knew I shoulda installed those tiedowns like you told me.”
“Aliens?” Joe blew out a little puff of air, then leaned back and looked at the ceiling, tapping his pen slowly on the scratched and faded Formica tabletop. Ralph wasn’t the brightest bulb in the room, and perhaps he just saw something he didn’t understand. “Maybe you better start at the beginning,” Joe said.
Ralph looked out the window of the diner and pondered where he should start. After a minute of wandering around in his head, he finally said, “I was huntin’ possum along Jack’s Creek when I found the alien. There weren’t no spaceship around at all, just a big flattened area like one had landed and taken off. I figured maybe the rest of the crew had left him behind on accident, or maybe he was a criminal and they tossed him out, you know?”
Joe nodded politely, took a sip of coffee, and reluctantly motioned for him to continue.
“Okay. So, I ain’t found no possum, but instead this ugly thing lyin’ on the ground. It looked like it was reaching out to grab me and I jumped back, but this wiggly arm, a, uh…”
“A tentacle?” Joe suggested, still disbelieving Ralph’s interpretation of events. But what sort of land animal had wiggly arms?
“Yeah, this tentacule thing couldn’t reach me. The thing, it looked like it had six eyes, like black spider eyes, staring at me, and one of its leg-tentacules was missing, and it was oozing this green stuff into the dirt.”
“I get it. It was injured.” Joe winced every time Ralph butchered the word ‘tentacle’ but he had learned long ago it was useless to correct him.
“Yeah, and it had this bowl in its hand. And it was holding the bowl out to me, like it was trying to give it to me. It was trying to talk, but it sounded like goobly oobly blah blah, just alien hogwash. May as well been a dog farting, I couldn’t understand a word of it. And it smelled bad, too.” Ralph wrinkled his nose with the memory. “Anyway, it died after a while. I didn’t help it. Die, that is. And I took that bowl from its cold dead tentacule.”
Joe leaned forward, sensing a possible lead in the story that might get him closer to the truth. “Is the body still there? The alien?”
Ralph looked distraught. “Naw. I went back later to check, since I thought it might be important, but there wasn’t nothin’ there. No body, no green blood, like someone had cleaned up. It was weird, and I was a little scared, I can tell you.”
“But you have this mysterious bowl now?” Joe probed.
“Nope. I had to give that back to the other alien. But that’s later. I wondered what was so special about this bowl that the dying critter wanted to give it to me. Maybe it was some ritual thing, or it changed water into wine, or ramen into beef stew. Anyway, I messed with it a little bit,” Ralph said.
Despite his disbelief, Joe leaned forward. “And?”
“Well, the ramen was still ramen.” He shrugged sheepishly. “I ate cereal out of it a few times. But I didn’t get no special powers, that I know of, anyways. And it tasted all right, but my spoon stuck to the bottom a little bit, like there was a magnet there.”
Joe raised his eyebrows encouragingly and sipped his coffee.
“I had to drink the cereal right from the bowl so that I could get the spoon back out without makin’ a big mess. Next, I put some nuts and bolts in it, and they stuck to the bottom too. It didn’t put them together or anything. I put it on my head like a hat, and it fit pretty good, but I didn’t get any new ideas. I started thinking it was just a bowl.”
“A magnetic bowl,” Joe provided. “And a hat.”
“Well, yeah. I reckon so,” said Ralph. “Anyways, I step out of my mobile a day or two later wearing it like a hat, with my gun in hand to go looking for possum again, and there’s two men outside, maybe federal agents or something, I don’t know. But they don’t tell me to freeze or anything, one of them just pulls out a gun and shoots at me. This blue flash shows up in the air about a foot from me, the bullet drops to the ground, and then the bowl shoots out these green rays and the two guys are gone, just like that. Just a couple of greasy gray clouds where they were. Even their guns were gone, more’s the pity.”
Joe’s jaw was hanging down. He leaned forward conspiratorially and whispered, “You might have started with that! You should be talking to a lawyer, Ralph, not an insurance adjuster. What did you do then?”
“I went hunting for possum like I was gonna do,” Ralph said. “I kept the bowl on my head, though. Not like I was going to call the police, you know. No bodies to show em’ anyways. Never did see their car, either. The bowl got me curious, though, and when I got home, still with no damn possum, I decided to see what made it work. I got out a screwdriver and pried and scraped at it, but there weren’t no screws and no cracks to get any leverage. So I got a hammer and started tapping at it, but it didn’t make no marks howsoever. I tried to use the screwdriver like a chisel with the hammer, and the thing still wouldn’t crack. It was, like, impossible to break open.”
The hair on the back of Joe’s neck was standing straight up, thinking about how the bowl might have reacted to this crude attack on its integrity. “Indestructible,” he muttered.
“Yup. That’s the word. Not even a place for batteries, which you’d kind of ‘spect, seein’ it shoots death rays and such. I thought about shooting at it to get inside, but then I remembered those two agents and what happened to them, and decided not to do that.”
“Probably a wise choice,” Joe said, cringing. He imagined a monkey chiseling at a propane tank to see if there was a banana inside.
“I left the bowl on my TV then, just by accident, and when I turned on my TV to watch the news, maybe see if there was anything about an alien invasion, all I got on my screen was little spots of light with some weird letters under each one. I moved the bowl away and the news came on, and then I put it back and the little dots came back. I turned the bowl, and the dots of light—they looked kind o’ like stars—shifted around too. Really weird. One of the dots was lit up different than the others, with a lot more letters under it. I stuck a tape in the VHS and recorded it for about ten minutes. Anyways, after playin’ with it awhile, I took it off so I could watch the news.”
Joe’s breath caught. There was a star map? Was Ralph smart enough to even make this up? Of course, the recording would only work if the signal was coming in through the TV RF input, and how would the bowl know how to format the signal? But if there were any chance at all… “What did you do with the tape?”
“I kept it in the bowl, so I wouldn’t get it mixed up with my other tapes. Seemed the smart thing to do.” He smiled smugly.
Joe rubbed his forehead as a headache started to sneak in. “You put the VHS tape in the bowl with the magnet in the bottom?” he asked.
“Yup.”
“Okay.” Joe sighed. “Go on.”
“So the next day,” Ralph continued, “I hear this whiny, windy noise outside, and I look out the window. There’s this big space ship coming down in that flat meadow a few hundred yards from my mobile, you know, where all the blackberries grow next to the creek? I can’t see the space ship too good since those big walnut trees block the view.  Otherwise, I would have got a good picture of it. I hear this big ‘foop’ sound, so I go outside.
“I’d left the bowl out front, since I was trying to grow a tomato plant in it to see what would happen, so it just looked like another flower pot, disguised. Anyways, here come a couple more of those ugly aliens. One of ‘ems got a bowl tucked under his tentacule and the other one is flailing his tentacules around, and points at the bowl the dead alien gave me. He kinda swishes over to the bowl, ‘cause his legs is tentacules too, picks it up and shakes the dirt and tomato plant out with no regard for me or the plant. It stares at me for a minute and says more googly oogly blah blah again, makes no sense to me. I tell it, ‘Hey, your friend gave me that bowl as a gift. It’s mine now, so you just better put it right back where it was.’ Well, they blathered on for a while, then the one alien who was carrying a different bowl turns around and touches his bowl in a weird way using some of his tentacules, and the bowl starts unfolding into a big shape! In about fifteen seconds, it’s bigger than my trailer. It’s a spaceship! The other alien, he takes my bowl, and does the same thing, so there’s two alien spaceships parked right next to my trailer! Looked like an upscale trailer park. I was really excited, because I thought they were going to give me the spaceship and show me how it works. He says something to me in alienish, and they both get on their spaceships and close the doors.”
Joe was getting into the story for the story’s sake, whether he could rationalize the fantastic details or not. His coffee cup was empty and he waved down a waitress for more. “So we’re finally getting to the end of your shaggy-dog story where your mobile home gets destroyed?”
Ralph nodded slowly. “But there’s no dog. You know my hound dog died last year, right? And he wasn’t shaggy.”
“Just an expression, Ralph,” Joe said. “Tell me the rest of your story.”
Ralph’s forehead creased a little, but he continued. “The ships started to hum, and the ground shook, and those two ships rose into the air. When they were about twenty feet up, my mobile suddenly came off the ground and started to follow the two ships, and the sides crumpled in. The ships stopped suddenly where they were, and the mobile home fell to the ground from ten feet high. And that’s why it looks like it was caught in a hurricane.” He nodded his head and took a sip of coffee.
Joe held up one hand. “So let’s get this straight,” he touched a finger, “there was a dead alien, but he’s gone now along with his blood.” He touched a second finger. “Then there was an indestructible cereal bowl, but you don’t have it anymore.” He touched a third finger. “Aliens landed in your front yard, but you took no pictures. So we really have no proof at all that the aliens were ever here.” He didn’t bother to mention the videotape. He closed his hand, as though squeezing away any chance for a plausible story.
“That’s what I been tryin’ to tell you. I need to blame it on a hurricane. Nobody’s gonna believe the truth ‘ceptin’ maybe you.”
Joe nodded and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “We can try the hurricane story, I guess. I don’t know if it’ll fly. It feels like you’re not telling me something, though.”
Ralph blushed. “Well, it’s not the end of the story, exactly. The aliens saw that they’d destroyed my mobile on accident and they landed again. One of the aliens walked up to me, pointed at the mobile with his tentacule, and pulled a little flat, square wafer out of this vest-thing he was wearing. The alien had like a thousand of these flat squares all around his body each in a little flat pouch, like little armor plates on an armadillo. He handed it to me, then said some more alien stuff, got back on his ship, and off they went, and the trailer flopped around like a catfish out of water as they left.”
“So you still have this little metal plate?” Joe asked doubtfully.
Ralph unbuttoned a shirt pocket and pulled out a black, square wafer, almost an inch wide, about as thick as a driver’s license. He slid it over to Joe. “It’s cold,” he said.
Joe picked up the thin wafer and dropped it again almost immediately. “Damn, you mean it’s cold. Have you tried anything with it?”
“Yeah. It’s the same temperature all the time. Thirty-six degrees.” He scratched his head. “Don’t matter if I stick it in the toaster oven or a cup of coffee, I take it out and measure the temperature with a thermometer and it’s always thirty-six degrees. I poured hot water on it and it was still cold. If I stick in an icebox, it’ll sit in a little pool of water forever, ‘cause it’s a little warmer than the ice. You know?” He paused, thinking. “I used it in a beer cooler, too, and that worked pretty good. It’s like havin’ free ice forever. Not really a fair trade for my mobile, though.”
Joe picked up the wafer cautiously and dipped it in his own coffee, then pulled it out and felt it. “I’ll be rolled in breadcrumbs. Where do you think the energy is going?”
“What energy?” Ralph asked. “It’s cold.”
Joe shook his head, examining the chip. “Never mind.”
“Anyways,“ Ralph continued, “I dug some stuff out of my trailer; clothes, bathroom stuff, beer, and the video tape, and got a room at the Motel 6. When I drove by there the next day, there were cars all over the place, people goin’ through what was left of the mobile, and I didn’t stick around. Maybe they’ll think I’m dead.”
Probably not, Joe thought. The big question was how fast he could find a buyer for the alien chip before they tracked down Ralph, and how fast Ralph would be forced to give Joe up once he was questioned, friend or not. He looked out the diner window, scanning the parking lot for government cars or suspicious white vans, but didn’t see any government-issued license plates. Ralph, he knew, tended to pay for everything with cash since his credit was so bad, so that might actually delay the feds, or whoever, a few days from finding him. He’d have to give Ralph a few hundred to make sure his cash held out for a while. Maybe move him from the Motel 6 to his spare bedroom, though that would mean Martha would be cursing a blue streak at him for the whole time Ralph stayed there.
Ralph pointed at the chip. “So you think this will convince your boys that aliens destroyed my mobile? I didn’t think they’d buy that story. Will they buy me a new one? Or a house, maybe?”
Joe smiled, twiddling the cold thin chip with his fingers, thinking about an early retirement and a nice house for Ralph. Some place where the possums still ran wild. “I’m pretty sure we can work something out, my friend.”

END

Author Bio: Tom Jolly is a retired astronautical/electrical engineer who now spends his time writing SF and fantasy, designing board games, and creating obnoxious puzzles. His stories have appeared in Analog SF, Daily Science Fiction, Compelling Science Fiction, New Myths and a number of anthologies, including a collection of his short SF, "Damn the Asteroids, Full Speed Ahead"  available on Amazon. He lives in Santa Maria, California, with his wife Penny in a place where mountain lions and black bears still visit. You can discover more of his stories at www.silcom.com/~tomjolly/tomjolly2.htm

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