Weather Balloon - a 1k word short about Men in Black., page 1

WEATHER BALLOON

ALPHA:

The telephone rang once again, the third time that night. Terry sighed, knowing that it was them on the other end of the line. No one ever called Terry's landline – and when they did, it was never about anything good. The bank about his overdraft, his landlord about the rent, them about what he'd seen. But yet it rang, over and over again. He'd tried muting the ringer, but that didn't work. Hell, he'd even tried unplugging the phone. That worked for the bank and the landlord, but it wasn't enough to silence them.

The only way to stop the ringing was to pick up the phone, so Terry rolled himself another cigarette and sat at the foot of the stairs in preparation to receive their call.

"Good evening, Terry." Spoke the vaguely mechanised voice, "We hope you enjoyed your dinner of grilled sausages, oven chips and baked beans."

Terry had become used to the mundane nature of their surveillance.

"I'm getting rather tired of this harassment, to be honest." replied Terry with as much calm authority as he could muster.

"Please be quiet, Terry. The fact that you like to talk is the reason we have to call you. You've always had a big mouth, Terry. That's the problem. Do you remember telling everyone in your school class that Kelly Harvarde had shown you her breasts? It would have been January 1988."

"How do you know that?" squirmed Terry, crushing his roll up into a glass ashtray.

"We know everything. So, tell us Terry, are you going to maintain your silence?"

"Look, I don't know who you are, but I'm not living in fear of you." smarted Terry, his face reddening with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

"Terry, we think it's time we visited you. How does this time tomorrow suit?" replied the emotionless, mechanical voice.

"I don't want you to visit me." Terry snarled.

"This time tomorrow it is then."

With that, the line went dead, leaving Terry to sit on the stairs in his dressing gown to ponder what it all meant. Just like phone calls from his landlord and the bank, it couldn't mean anything good.

BETA:

Terry recalled that he had answered the phone at precisely 20:07 the night before, and had placed himself strategically by the living room window in preparation for his visitors. Indeed, their mystery was matched by punctuality, as the second hand meeting the '12' position on Terry's wristwatch heralded the arrival of a black Bentley Continental driven by two men.

The two men exited the vehicle and knocked on Terry's front door.

"Hello Terry." stated the first man in the same emotionless, mechanical voice from the phone calls. "We're pleased to meet you. May we come in?"

Terry nodded and the two men strode into his home, immediately taking themselves to the kitchen and motioning Terry to sit down at the table.

"My name is Cadbury," stated the first man, "and this is Fry."

Terry surveyed the two men and was immediately struck by just how similar they were. It was almost as if they were twins. Both Cadbury and Fry wore dark three piece suits, immaculately pressed, and black rimmed glasses. They even wore identical hair, although parted to alternate sides. The men looked odd, somehow, with thin lips. Terry wondered if their deep red colour was somehow painted on.

"Tell me about the night of July 18th, Terry. We know you saw something that night. What was it?"

Terry stammered, this was a lot to take in.

"I saw lights. In the sky. Large white lights, in a triangular formation. They were right above this house."

"That seems unlikely." replied Cadbury, "There was no aircraft over this area that night."

"I know what I saw." snarked Terry, his fear turning into anger.

"What you saw, Terry, was a weather balloon." stated Cadbury. "You saw a weather balloon lit by the moon."

"But there was three lights, a triangle." Terry exclaimed with some annoyance.

"It was a weather balloon, Terry." Cadbury stated once again.

"Lit by the moon." Fry interjected for the first time.

"Do you understand our problem, Terry?" continued Cadbury. "We're worried that people will think you're crazy if you go around telling people you saw lights in the sky when what you saw was a weather balloon lit by the moon."

"I'm not crazy!" Terry almost shouted. Cadbury just stared at him.

"The thing is, Terry. We like you. I think you're a very talented landscape gardener, and Fry was only saying to me earlier how nice it is of you to cut the lawns of your elderly neighbours. We'd hate for people to think that you'd somehow become unhinged."

"People won't think I've gone mad because I saw lights in the sky." countered Terry, who suddenly found his face burning up under the two men's scrutiny.

"Perhaps not, Terry. But unhinged people do strange things. Imagine what people would think if your laptop was found to contain unsavoury images. Or what they'd say if one of those elderly neighbours of yours was found battered with your DNA present at the crime scene. Imagine that."

Terry sank back in his chair. He knew that he was in the company of extremely dangerous people.

"What do you want from me?" Terry asked quietly.

"That's the point, Terry." Cadbury intoned. "We don't want anything from you. In fact, we don't want to hear a peep. What did you see on July 18th?"

"I saw a weather balloon. Lit up by the moon."

"That's right, Terry. It was just a weather balloon."

With that, Cadbury rose from his chair and moved to leave.

"Thank you for your time this evening."

Terry followed the two men to the front door and watched as they walked to their car, striding in perfect unison. Terry decided never to mention the lights in the sky again. Perhaps it was a weather balloon he'd seen, lit up by the moon.