Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: PHONE (11/10/16)
- TITLE: The Day It Landed
By Francy Judge
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Margaret passed a bowl of sweet potatoes to me and nodded. “Have some more.”
I was picking strawberries from the field when the clouds began to spin, faster and faster, until a funnel formed, unlike one I had ever seen. My hair stood straight up like a scared cat. I wondered if God cranked the heat up for a reason. Was I being punished? The field smelled of burnt grass, and I covered my ears to stop the sharp whistling sound. After three minutes of the sky raging, it suddenly stopped…but as the tail of the funnel waved for the last time, something fell.
“I never felt so much as a breeze today.”
My hair blew back into place in the gentle wind leftover from the funnel. I rubbed a dab of spit in my palm, smoothed the hair over my ears, and stepped towards the center of the blackened field. Something silver glistened. And blinked. I had never seen anything like it. A rectangle piece of something just smaller than my hand. It could have been illegal television equipment production, banned during the war. I touched the smooth surface and jumped back as it lit up in my face. Then it spoke: “Bob, where are you?”
So I called the thing that landed “Bob.” I’m sure it was from an alien spaceship.
“Is this another one of your crazy jokes to see how gullible I am?”
“No, dear. I’m telling the truth. Honest to God.”
“Okay. Where is the Bob thing? And can you add a log to the fire while I clean up the dishes?”
The fire crackled as I considered how to prove I was telling the truth. “That’s the strangest part…as I picked it up, it shook in my hand and then whoosh! It flew up into thin air.”
Margaret laughed. “That’s a good one! I’ll have to tell the girls tomorrow.”
Look at my hand. The Bob was so hot, it left a burnt mark in its shape on my hand.
Her eyes squinted as she stared at my hand. Then she looked out the window. “I wonder where the Bob went?”
“Is it still working?”
Bob dusted off his phone. “Yes, not even a scratch. It actually smells better, like strawberries.”
“You have to be more careful. Traveling through time is not the place to juggle your phone. You almost lost it back in 1945. How would we let your wife know where you are since I forgot my phone?”
“I know. Bad habit. How about we visit one more year before heading home?”
“We better get back. Your wife already left three messages, and you know she’ll blame me for dragging you through the century without telling her.”
“Fine. But let’s do this again next Saturday. I’d like to visit that strawberry field again. I bet they make great pies.”
“Do you think we’ll ever see another Bob thing again?”
Doubt it. Unless the aliens come back. It’s not something made in this world. By the way, your pie is delicious. I bet the aliens don’t have a cook like you.
Margaret’s smile shows off her dimples. “Thanks. And you tell the wildest stories.” Her kiss is so sweet, I forget about the Bob thing.
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