The Lights In the Sky

Chapter 14

I didn't sleep the next few days. I spent my time reading and taking notes or else sitting around listening to music. Most of the time, I sat in front of the window with my laptop turned up. I was living in a daze; if the same song played over and over, I barely even noticed. At school, I didn't pay attention. All I could think about were the dozens of stories I read. Some were total bull. Others were too close for my own comfort. They mangled and mashed together in my head. Names, dates, and drawings tumbled around in place of sonnets, equations, and whatever the hell it is you learn in Home Ec. The burn was subsiding, but I still looked terrible. Dark circles formed around my eyes and my skin went pale. Sometimes I would catch myself drooling at my desk. After looking around to make sure nobody saw, I'd check back out and disappear into my own head.

By Friday, I was loony. I mean, really, the words coming out of my mouth didn't sound like me. I was agitated and excitable, my fingers constantly twirling in my hair, the corners of my mouth ticking. When I did speak, my sentences spilled out at a hundred miles per hour. I sounded like a caricature of a mental patient. The information was piling up. I forgot to ask Frank for more help, which probably would have helped, because I could have bounced everything off another person.

I went downstairs for breakfast Friday morning, the day before Tabitha's ninth birthday, and as soon as I saw my family sitting around their full Irish, I started to talk.

"Have any of you heard of Antonio Villas-Boas?" I asked. My question was met with silence. They exchanged glances. Mom stabbed her eggs.

"Did you eat ice cream last night?" she asked.

"Uh. Yeah, I think so," I said. "I got hungry around midnight."

"You made a mess on the counter."

I turned to see a pale green mess beside the sink. Mint chocolate chip all dried up.

"I need you to clean it up," she said.

"Mom," I said, " I asked you a question." She dropped her fork hard onto her plate and turned to me. She started snapping.

"Here's what I don't understand: I've asked you to clean up after yourself how many times? You make a mess in the kitchen, you clean it up. Your sister, your eight-year-old sister, gets it. Your father even does it, and he never listens to a word I say. When you make a mess, you clean it up."

We stared each other down for a few seconds. I moved my gaze past her and to my dad, who was frozen, mid-bite in a piece of toast.

"Dad, have you ever heard of Antonio Villas-Boas?" I asked, completely ignoring her. Her face probably went some shade of red, but I knew looking at her would be a mistake, so I let my ears burn.

"It sounds familiar," Dad said slowly, "but I can't place it."

I walked around the table and sat down next to him, Mom's eyes still locked on me.

"He's one of the first people ever documented as being abducted by extra-terrestrials," I said, keeping my own eyes on my dad. "He's this Brazilian guy, okay, it was 1957, he's out workin' on his field, doing pretty much what you do every day except, you know, he's in Brazil so the weather is probably better and he's probably got a lot less money. Actually, that might not be true, he probably has just as much money as us."

Dad put his toast down and shuffled in his seat, probably offended.

"And all of a sudden, these five beings come out of nowhere and take him onto their ship."

Mom interrupted me, as she's wont to do. "I need you to clean this spot up now."

"What are beings?" Tabitha asked me. I tried to explain, but Mom yelled.