Archive for the ‘Luc Reid’ Category
Red Seeds
Tuesday, July 20th, 2010
I was nine, and my parents were watching a special news bulletin on TV late in the afternoon on a grindingly hot summer day. The aliens, who’d been just floating in the sky for more than eight months, ignoring every attempt to contact them and unhurt by any weapon we tried, had finally acted. They had dropped little red seeds from the sky that landed and ripped terrible gashes in the earth, hundreds of meters deep, razing houses and slashing roads and cutting rivers. They’d already done it in dozens of places: South Africa, Pakistan, Norway, Canada, Bolivia, France, Russia, New Zealand.
Out on the street, very faintly, I heard the rambling tinkle of the ice cream truck. I begged with my parents, waited the excruciating time it took for Dad to get his wallet, snatched the two quarters, ran, had to be called back to say “Thank you,” ran again, and caught up with the ice cream truck just at the end of the street, where Walter Biscayne was receiving not one, but two drumstick cones.
I remember it vividly. The sky was a scorched blue. The heat over the new-paved street wavered, as if we were all knee-deep in water. An oak tree three houses away was yellowing even though it was late July: probably it had some kind of blight or something. A housefly was sitting on Walter Biscayne’s shoulder, but he didn’t even notice.
Walter collected his cones. I ran to the window.
“Ice cream sandwich, please,” I said.
“Sorry, we’re out,” said the ice cream guy. And then I heard the blast, a torrential ripping noise. It knocked me into the truck and blew the little truck right over on its side. A horrible cracking sound came up from the ground. My forehead was bleeding. When the noise went away, I sat up and looked around me.
The ground had been torn open in a deep, gaping rent as long as half a dozen ocean liners end to end. Dust rained down from the sky. Four houses on our street were completely gone, obliterated. The only thing left of my house–or my parents–was a broken piece of the slide from the back yard. The crack stopped just short of Walter’s house.
So yes, despite everything they’ve done for us since, despite the fact that they never erased New York or crushed the Eiffel Tower, I still think the aliens need to be exterminated.
Is that enough to get me into your goddamned little resistance, or do I need to get some scalps first?
In Answer to Your E-mail
Wednesday, July 14th, 2010
Dear K,
Wow, that’s a lot to respond to. I’ll take it item by numbered item.
1) If he is, I haven’t noticed. Still the usual number of legs, etc. The cameras haven’t picked anything up, either.
2-4) Ha! Yeah, nice try. I’m still alive, though.
5) For the love of Christ! Listen, I hate to be pushy, but for the last time, they’re staying! What would happen to all the kids if we got rid of them? Do you think they’d be able to defend themselves? Remember what happened last time? Not to mention, the expense would be obscene. I know you have that whole thing with the gold, but we don’t even know if that will work, and anyway, we should probably save it for an emergency. I’m sorry about the stained clothing, but just wear old stuff when you go there, OK? Or a raincoat, right? I mean, it’s not like they’ll notice!
6) Thursday, or Friday at the latest. Assuming there is a Friday.
7) Oh, she turned out to be a bitch, so I had to dump her. I tried at the library, figuring she wouldn’t be able to make a scene there, but holy god did she! They revoked my library card. I don’t care what you say: next time I’m using Twitter.
8 ) The end of all life in the universe.
I guess that’s all for now. Stay under the tarp when you can, and don’t forget about the alarms. Keep the faith, my friend. Keep the faith.
– K