Chapter 13: Chapter 13
“ROUSED CURIOSITY”
“He’s here!” yelled Vera, the police department receptionist, from behind bullet resistant glass as Sheriff Neil walked into the front lobby. It was early afternoon, and several reporters were standing around with cameras and microphones. Everyone looked up surprised before running over.
“Sheriff? We want to ask you some questions?” yelled out the first reporter.
“What can you tell us about the ghost sightings going on around the city?”
Neil smiled and politely tried to answer, “Reports of ghosts and aliens are something that happens in every city across the country. It means nothing, and we will not be investigating. Thank you.”
Vera fought through the crowd carrying documents and whispered to the sheriff. “We’re now getting reports of more ghost sightings from Back Bayou in the downtown area. I don’t know what to tell reporters!”
“So, can your office confirm reports of sightings inside the city?” asked another reporter as she swung the microphone into Vera’s face.
Sheriff Neil spun around again and announced to the reporters, “There is no evidence and no legitimate observations of unexplained life. And we won’t be wasting time investigating. Thank you.” Sheriff Neil then walked through the locked doors leaving reporters and cameras rolling.
“That’s what I’ve been telling them,” said Vera as she ran alongside the sheriff. “But they’re in the lobby, and calls keep coming in from reporters from all around the state. I don’t know what to make of it.”
“You tell reporters to go screw themselves,” answered Sheriff Neil. “And tell them that’s the order coming directly from me!”
“Yes sir,” responded Vera as she ran back to her desk surrounded by ringing phones.
Suddenly, the homeless man who warned gang members of the sighting rushed in the front door screaming, “I saw it! I saw the ghost!”
Reporters immediately ran over. Microphones, cameras and lights flashed. The homeless man looked surprised.
“Can you tell us what exactly you saw?” asked one reporter.
“It was invisible,” he mumbled.
“What did the ‘invisible ghost’ look like?”
“It looked like a monster. He beat up a few guys, then picked up another guy, then carried him up the side of a wall. Then it just disappeared.”
Sheriff Neil walked back and was looking through the window as reporters in the lobby all closed in with cameras and microphones rolling. “So you believe the ghost kidnapped a man?”
“Well, it might have known him already. I think they might have been friends.”
“Give us details of the specific size and color of the invisible ghost?”
“Could the ghost have been injured?”
Questions continued flying as the homeless man looked around. “The ghost took bullets. They didn’t hurt him. And we just couldn’t see anything more.”
“Would you recognize this ghost in a lineup?” asked another reporter.
After listening to the confusing questions and answers, Sheriff Neil walked back out to the lobby. “Okay. This is all police business now. There are no monsters or ghosts in the Back Bayou. This is over. All reporters, get out of here!”
Neil grabbed the homeless man by the arm and walked him back through the door and into the main office of the police station.
“What will happen to this witness?” screamed one reporter.
“Is he being arrested?”
“What was his crime?”
Reporters continued shouting questions and shooting video as the office doors closed again.
Ben was laying at the top of a building shaded from the morning sun. Quazum was caring for injuries to Ben’s arm using saliva from his tongue and his rapid moving fingers. Quazum then carefully wrapped his arm using material from Ben’s pants.
Ben began to slowly wake up when he felt the touching and soft movement. “What are you doing?”
“I’m just cleaning and sealing the cuts on your stomach and your arm again. Please remain still.”
After examining the injuries to the arm and body, Ben asked, “Do you think I need a doctor?”
“No, your wounds are healing normally. You’ll be fine.
Ben watched Quazum’s concentrated operation skills in amazement. “How did you learn this? Do you have medical training?”
“I’ve got a formula in my saliva, which helps seal torn skin injuries. I also learned about proper human skin treatments online.”
“So how do you climb the walls?”
“My body weight is much lighter than the average human, and my diacetyl hands give me a tighter grip allowing me to climb up narrow branches and walls.”
“And how do you know all this?”
“My computer at home is capable of going on-line via satellite reception. I’ve been studying and testing the unique chemicals in my saliva that can be used for treating injuries to humans or any animal.”
“You are like no human I’ve ever seen.”
“And I’ve learned my reptilian skin doesn’t break easily. If I do get a tear in my skin, or if I lose an arm or a leg, I can grow it back. It’s all just part of my natural body function. I know I am not human like my mom and grandpa.”
“Maybe you could become a doctor? Or teach doctors new ways to treat injuries?” asked Ben as he laid back. “Have you thought about something like that?”
“The heritage and evolution of reptilian species on earth goes back more than three hundred million years. I believe I’m just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“And how far back does the human go?”
“Humans evolved from the great apes less than twenty million years ago,” replied Quazum. “That means reptilian life on earth has been evolving more than one hundred times longer than man. So we naturally have a stronger brain, a greater agility, and a tougher skin.”
Quazum pulled the shirt back down around the arm of Ben, then straightened him up and patted his back. “There. Now just avoid unnecessary contact.”
“So you think I’m okay?”
“Your bleeding has stopped, and it’s now up to your immune system to avoid infection. The only thing that will heal the tears in your skin is time,”
“Thanks, Quazum. You are truly gifted in so many ways.”
Quazum walked over to the edge of the building and looked out across the city. “My skills are all a complete waste now. They must remain hidden from all public knowledge, and I’m learning that the hard way. I have no place on this planet.”
“We can find something for you. You have a place. We just need to find it.”
Sheriff Neil was sitting at his desk while the homeless man nervously sat in his office chair. Policemen were gathered around listening.
“So what are some other details about the ghost?” asked Neil with other cops joining in.
“How much of the ghost was invisible?”
“And what parts could you see?”
The man looked around before mumbling, “I didn’t know what it was. I could see the different colors changing when it moved, but then it would be invisible again, just like that!”
“What did you see when it was invisible?”
“I could see its shadows, and just little bits of movement in the air,” answered the man before looking back up. “That ghost beat up a whole gang on the street. It was definitely real! And scary as hell.”
“So it beat up some bad guys on the street?” said another officer. “Did the ghost ever say ‘Boo’?”
The crowd of police officers laughed again before the homeless man replied nervously, “He hit, kicked and jumped over the guys, and got shot at with bullets. Then he carried the city man up the side of a wall!”
“And it stayed invisible the whole time?”
“It was a ghost. You don’t have to see it to know when it’s there.”
Sheriff Neil thought for a second, then turned to the surrounding police officers. “I want complete descriptions of the ghost and the man kidnapped from this eyewitness, all taken under full lie detector.”
“But I’m not lying!”
“Yes sir,” answered officers as they dragged the homeless man down the hall and into another office.
Dr. Palmer was sitting in the first class section of the jet. He was examining historical information about Back Bayou on his personal computer as the jet flew over Arizona.
The stewardess began talking over the speaker, “There are some beautiful locations around Louisiana that you might want to visit. First is the timeless historical French Quarters in New Orleans, and of course the world-renowned college of Louisiana State University. This is where the famous LSU Tigers dominate the country in all sports. For information on other special landmarks and historical sites around Louisiana, you can check computers in the jet and airport terminals.”
Dr. Palmer was ignoring the announcements, but the stewardess continued, “Today Louisiana is known for its diverse cultural heritage, ranging from French, Haitian, Spanish, native American and a variety of African cultures. The state constitution also preserves the rights of the people to promote their respective historic and cultural origins.”
With the low-quality airplane headphones, Palmer continued searching for information on his computer when graphics began popping up. “Additional sightings continue being reported in the small town of Back Bayou and bigger parts of the state.”
Dr. Palmer clicked on images of the Back Bayou Police Department and zoomed into a news video of the homeless man entering the lobby of the police station. “One witness of the sighting claimed to have seen the invisible alien eating breakfast with another man in a downtown alley. The ghost-like creature was stabbed and shot at but continued his attack by climbing the side of a tall cement building while carrying another man.”
“Can I get you something?” asked the stewardess as she walked up to Dr. Palmer.
“No,” he answered politely. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
The stewardess pulled down a pillow and tried to place it behind the head of Palmer. “If there’s anything I can get for you, just push this button. We’ll be arriving in Louisiana in just about one hour.”
“Thank you.”
“I see you’ve heard about the ghost sightings around Louisiana. My uncle is a cop in New Orleans and said they always get drunks downtown who see things.”
“The first sighting was at a funeral home,” answered Palmer.
“Well, the bodies are always rising up because of flooding problems in the bayou. That’s just part of Louisiana.” The stewardess laughed before walking away.
The computer voice then continued in Palmer’s ears, “First reports of the ghost sightings came from police when investigating the home of Mr. Gabriel Meaux. Unusual movement was seen by officers after the shooting. Mr. Meaux reportedly fired a twenty-two caliber pistol before being shot and killed. Daughter Lacy Meaux took a bullet to the skull but has not been pronounced dead.”
Looking disgusted, Palmer continued typing in questions, “Signs of Ben Thomas?”
Pictures popped up, and the computer continued, “Ben Thomas was engaged to Lacy Meaux while the two worked at Science Exploration years earlier. He is reported to have alerted local police officers of illegal resistance before police approached. Ben Thomas also attended the funeral of Gabriel Meaux.”
The stewardess approached Dr. Palmer again with a drink. “Here you go, Dr. Palmer. I’ve got a special Hurricane Cocktail straight from Bourbon Street. You’ll enjoy this.”
“Thank you,” answered Palmer as he typed another question into the computer waiting for a response.
“There is no sign of Ben Thomas since the funeral.”
Sheriff Neil walked into the room to see the homeless man held down in a chair, with old-fashion wires strapped around his head and body. A polygraph official was asking the homeless man, “Did this alien ghost harm anyone or make any threats?”
“I told you... It beat up some gang members... Oh, and I heard the ghost may have stolen some whiskey off another homeless guy before we got there.”
The official began typing and touching the screen as the police officers looked on. “Can you describe this ghost in more detail?”
“I don’t know. I guess it was a medium size and moved really fast in the dark alley. Then the ghost changed colors and became invisible. It grabbed the guy and climbed up the building.”
Neil was getting impatient and stepped in. “What building? Where is it?”
“I don’t know. It was downtown, in a rundown alley..”
“Let’s continue. What was the man doing before he was approached?” asked the official.
“He had bags of take-out food... bacon and grits... And I think there were some pancakes. Maybe some cush cush...Does that mean something?”
Sheriff Neil stepped in again, “What did this ‘human’ man look like?”
“Uhh... He was just an average guy wearing a suit.”
“An average homeless guy doesn’t wear a suit,” yelled the angry sheriff. “What color was his hair? His height? Weight?”
“His hair? I think it was brown, and kind of short. But it looked like it hadn’t been washed in a while and hadn’t shaved in a week.” The homeless man then looked around at the impatient sheriff. “Five ten? One seventy? I don’t know. Just an average size white guy, I guess.”
“That doesn’t narrow it down,” replied one police officer. “Could be any one of us.”
Sheriff Neil then pulled out his phone and touched the screen to show a picture of a clean shaven Ben walking into the police headquarters. “Could this be the guy?”
“Yeah,” answered the homeless man as he studied the close up. “I think that’s the guy.”
The surrounding police and the polygraph doctor looked surprised, and Sheriff Neil continued, “Get those wires off the man, and get him out to my car.”
“Where are you going to take him.”
“We’re going downtown,” responded Neil as he stood up and walked out. “Let’s go!”
Dr. Palmer rolled his carry-on luggage through the small airport and headed straight out the front entrance.
Rico, a young taxi driver, was reading from his phone when he noticed Palmer, “Hi sir. You need a lift?”
Palmer walked straight to the cab without hesitation and opened the door. “I want to head down to an area called Back Bayou. Do you know where that is?”
“Sure, I do,” answered Rico. “But it’s not close. And it ain’t a straight drive. I mean we’re going to have to take lots of side roads and loop around the swamplands. And it ain’t going to be cheap.”
“Take me down to Back Bayou,” said Palmer as he pulled out his laptop computer. “And make it fast.”
“Yes sir!” Rico took off down the long bumpy roads making quick turns as Dr. Palmer concentrated.
The computer spoke out, “Back Bayou properties have been owned and operated by locals around the city for more than three hundred years. Nearby cities include Metairie and Ascension Parish.”
Rico adjusted his rear view mirror and asked politely, “Is there any place in particular you have in mind?”
“I’ll be starting with the Swampville Funeral Home in the Back Bayou.”
“The graveyard?” answered Rico with a laugh. “Not a problem, sir. I used to live ‘round there growing up. Not many areas like that around the world. I remember when I was just a boy there were problems with dead bodies floating up in the mud after a heavy rain...”
“Just drive,” said Palmer politely.
“Yes sir.”
Dr. Palmer then went right back to his computer reading reports and studying information about that local funeral home.
Quazum stood at the edge of the building looking around the city. All was quiet before Ben asked, “You see any signs of the gang? Any injured bodies still down there since the big fight?”
“They attacked us with knives and guns. They each took body blows to legs, body and face. But no one seriously injured”
“So do you think we’re now safe?”
“No. As Grandpa used to say, I think I opened another can of worms. That means more gangs and more police will now be searching for us with bigger weapons. It’s just a matter of time before I’m caught.”
Ben then sat up. “So where can we go in the Back Bayou? Do you know anywhere we can hide out?”
“I told you. I want to return home,” answered Quazum as he walked back over to Ben. “And that’s Quazmopolis.”
“Why do you want to move to a hot moon in space? We can do something better.”
“I believe my body is natural to the climates, and I want to learn about my family and my true heritage. Quazmopolis is my home.”
“No. Let’s come up with something practical.”
“You promised my mom when she was shot that you’d help me. That’s what you said.”
“She meant helping you stay at your home in Back Bayou. We could just move into another property. I can afford rental payments, and you know how to live off the land. We can do it together.”
“No, I can’t.”
“We can go to California... Maybe live next to the beach! All the fresh salt water you can drink. I’ll just get a job to pay rent!”
“No,” replied Quazum. “Quazmopolis is my only home.”
All was quiet as Ben considered the options before his eyes lit up. “You know? There is a mission scheduled. Would you be willing to risk everything for this?”
“Yeah, that’s what I want.”
“I’ve got connections at Science Exploration,” answered Ben. “And you can just hide out among the luggage and equipment in the solar jet.”
“Security wouldn’t allow it. There is very tight security.”
“I know everyone there. Me and your mom worked there and were big parts of the last mission,” yelled Ben with excitement. “Quazum, we can pull this off! I know it!”
“I don’t know how we can...”
“We’ve just got to get to SEA before take-off!” Ben then limped to a small door on the roof. “Let’s go!”
Rico continued driving down old roads before finally pulling into the funeral home driveway. “Okay, this is it! It’s the beautiful one of a kind Swampville Funeral Home! They have lots of dead people. A real tourist attraction!”
“Thank you.” Dr. Palmer looked around suspiciously before starting to climb out.
“You’re gonna need a ride back. Can I just wait?”
“Yes. This is just my first stop.”
“Not a problem.” Rico adjusted his cost meter, leaned back and turned up the radio.
Dr. Palmer walked over to the main funeral building and looked around curiously at the old surroundings. Reverend Andrew was sitting behind the table when Palmer walked in.
“I want to talk to someone about a funeral,” said Palmer politely. “Is there someone I can speak to.”
“We do funerals daily,” answered Reverend Andrew. “What do you want to know?”
“I have questions about one funeral for a man named Gabriel Meaux.”
Andrew immediately became defensive. “Oh that. It was a quick service performed on Wednesday. Meaux was buried in a previously paid gravesite reserved since the death of his wife, and there were no family attending the funeral.”
“No one?”
“Well, there was just one man in attendance, but he left when the service was over, well before the ghost sighting.”
“Do you know the name of that man who attended the funeral?” quickly asked Palmer.
The reverend was surprised. “I don’t know his name.”
“How about his age?”
“I don’t know. Mid-thirties?” The confused reverend then stood up and walked over to the exit door. “Information of people attending funerals is not available.”
Palmer pulled out his phone and pushed buttons. “Is this the man?”
“Yes. I think that’s him, but it’s not...”
“How would you describe his reaction to the service?”
“All people at any funeral service get emotional,” replied the reverend annoyed by the question. “And that’s none of your business!”
“There were also reports of sounds and movement spotted by other men after the service. Can you tell me about that?”
“Oh, that was just hallucinations of scared gravediggers. There are reports of ghost sightings in graveyards everyday. It means nothing.”
“And where are these diggers now? I want to speak to them.”
“They’re working, and they are not allowed to discuss...”
Dr. Palmer turned and immediately walked out the back funeral door towards the graveyard, and the reverend raced across the room following him. “Those men work for me and are not allowed to speak publicly!”
The same two diggers were out patting down dirt as Palmer walked up. “Hello. What did you witness at the burial of Mr. Gabriel Meaux on Wednesday?”
Men looked at each other as the annoyed Reverend Andrew ran up yelling, “That’s something we’re done talking about. Please don’t answer.”
Palmer stared at the nervous men. “Were they just sounds you heard? Or was it an intelligent voice?”
One digger finally spoke up, “Sounded intelligent to me.”
“Now he was an ‘intelligent’ ghost?” asked the annoyed reverend. “What’s next?”
“The ghost sounded like just a kid who’d been crying, but we didn’t see nobody.”
“Did you see motion?”
Gravedigger looked at Reverend Andrew, then turned back to Palmer. “Looked like changing colors, and a small moving shadow. But it was still invisible!”
“And it ran off into those trees behind you.” said the gravedigger pointing into the distance.
“That’s all you saw?”
Reverend jumped in again, “That’s all! The same everyday report of ghosts at a graveyard. Are you satisfied?”
“Ain’t seen nothing like that before or since. And I’ve been digging graves for more than twenty years.”
“Did you ever hear words from the ghost... Maybe something you could understand?”
Gravediggers looked at each other thinking. “Maybe something about a Grandpa, but I don’t know... We were both screaming and swinging our shovels.”
Reverend Andrew was angry as he yelled, “Gabriel Meaux was a father to Lacy. He had no grandchildren!”
Dr. Palmer thought about all he’d heard and quietly turned and walked back to the taxi.
“We heard more ghost sightings were reported at the grocery store,” yelled one gravedigger. “So we ain’t the only ones seeing ghosts.”
Reverend Andrew jumped in anger, “All odysseys were reported to the Back Bayou Police Department. Swampville Funeral Home has no further information.”
As Palmer stepped into the cab, Rico immediately spun around to ask with a smile, “So where we going next?”
“Get me to the Back Bayou Grocery Mart.”
“Yes sir,” answered Rico before he took off down the bumpy road. “I know exactly where the Grocery Mart is too.”
Ben walked into a run-down New Orleans motel lobby rolling an old-looking piece of luggage with Quazum sitting on top. Ben seemed dirty and unshaven as he innocently walked up to the counter. The receptionist looked surprised.
“Hello,” said Ben politely. “I’m just looking for a single room for one night.”
“One bed?”
Ben looked over to Quazum on his suitcase, then quickly responded, “No. Two beds and one room.”
“You need two beds?” The receptionist looked around. “And you’re alone?”
“Yeah, I just got a bad back.” Ben stretched out with his hand on his hip. “And I like to switch beds during the night. Just a habit.”
Receptionist looked down at the suitcase and turned back to Ben, “You got a card and identification?”
“No. I’ll just be paying cash. It’s a personal thing.”
“Okay fine,” said the receptionist as she took the money. “You’ll be in room one forty-six.”
“Thank you.” Ben, in his ripped and dirty clothes, then took the key and smiled politely as he carefully dragged the suitcase across the lobby.
Quazum mumbled, “I’m okay. I don’t need my own bed. I can just sleep on a chair.”
“Shshsh!” answered Ben. “Everything’s fine. Hello.”
People looked curiously as Ben walked down the hall, unlocked the door and rolled Quazum into the bedroom.
Quazum quickly jumped down, changed colors, and returned to normal shape as he put on his hat and walked around the bedroom.
“This is nice. I don’t sleep much, but when I do sleep I’m really out for several hours. How long will we be staying here?”
Not long. We got to get you to California.” Ben reached into his dirty pocket and pulled out his phone. He then began pushing buttons and smiled, “This is easy.”
“How are you gonna do this?”
“Yes,” Ben said politely into the speaker. “I’d like to reserve a flight to Los Angeles for tomorrow. Just a ticket for one. Preferably in the morning.”
Quazum asked nervously, “You sure you can get me on? I’ve never flown on an airplane.”
Ben typed information into his phone, when the phone announced, “Reserved flight. Tomorrow morning at nine forty-five. Jet will be leaving out of New Orleans.”
“We’re all set. It’ll just be me and my partially invisible carry-on suitcase.” Ben got up and headed to the bathroom, “I’m going to take a shower. We have a big day in the morning.”
“And what should I do?”
“Here.” Ben then took out his personal computer and handed it to Quazum sitting on the bed. “Check out all the inside information I have about Quazmopolis. It’s top secret.”
Quazum picked up the small computer and began searching on the touch screen. Unseen video and pictures began popping up from the previous mission, and Quazum continued rapidly scanning detailed information.
Detailed video of Lacy climbing rock, talking to explorers and examining the surface began appearing. Quazum looked on in fascination.
Sheriff Neil and four other policemen were being led through the downtown area by the homeless man. Police looked down the empty alleyways and were carrying batons with guns in their holsters. Homeless guys and drug users ran down the old streets and up the dirty alleys when they noticed the cops.
“This is the street,” finally said the homeless man as he pointed down the empty alley. “That ghost was lying down there with that human guy. And then the ghost just attacked us, for no reason.”
The group of policemen turned down the alley and walked slowly along looking carefully at the dirty sidewalk for clues. They shined flashlights at the litter and dirty walls of graffiti.
“You sure it was this alley?” asked one police officer as he ripped the blanket off of a homeless man and kicked him in the side.
“This is the place. I know it is.”
“And the ghost went up the side of this building?”
“It climbed up the wall, and the ghost was carrying the bleeding man you showed me.”
“I see some blood, Sheriff,” yelled one officer as he shined the flashlight on the wall.
“Get a sample,” said Neil as he looked around the alleyway. “How can we get up to the rooftops of these buildings?”
“There’s got to be access from inside.”
Neil and the group of policemen turned and quickly ran around to the front of the building. The receptionist seemed confused as Neil walked up holding out his badge. “We wanna investigate the rooftop.”
“The roof? Do you have a police warrant?” asked the confused receptionist.
“I’m the Sheriff. I don’t need a warrant.”
“I don’t think I can just let anyone in. This is a private company. We do not give permission for any unauthorized investigation.”
Sheriff Neil ignored the receptionist and hurried to the staircase followed by other policemen.
“Excuse me!” yelled the confused receptionist.
When the exhausted cops got to the top of the stairs, there was a door with a small sign saying, “Rooftop”.
With guns drawn, Neil forced the door open and walked out onto the rooftop. The policemen walked around looking for any ghost-like signs of possible criminals. When Neil got to the edge of the building, he looked over the side and could see the gutter and brick that was used to climb the side of the building.
Other policemen examined small articles of torn clothing at one end of the rooftop where Ben and Quazum were hiding. “Sheriff? I see some torn articles of clothing and more blood stains.”
Another policeman ran over. “Someone bleeding was definitely on the rooftop of this building within the last few hours.”
“Get blood samples and identify!”
“Yes sir. We’re on it.”
“Ben?!” yelled Sheriff Neil as he looked around the city. “Ben Thomas? Where are you?”
“You think the ghost took him?” asked a confused policeman.
“I want a complete All Points Bulletin put out for a search for Ben Thomas,” yelled Neil. “Any sightings or info of possible location of Ben Thomas will be brought to my attention.