A New Beginning

6

“Cutie's looking over here again," Maria said, pointing to the bus boy. Liz nodded; he had been looking at them since shortly after the girls sat down. In between clearing the tables of dishes he had stolen glances at the girls for more than an hour and a half now.

"He looks… impaired," Maria said.

"He has Down's syndrome," Isabel said.

The other two girls looked at Isabel questioningly.

"1 used to volunteer at school," Isabel said.

Maria looked at Isabel with surprise. Liz knew how she felt. Isabel didn't seem on the surface to be the type to vol- unteer to work with handicapped kids. Then again, she didn't seem like the kind of person to embrace Christmas like Mrs. Claus on a triple latte but she did that, too.

"Down what?" Maria asked.

"He has an extra chromosome," Liz said. She knew that much.

Isabel nodded. "And that causes some impairment," she said. "But people with the condition can function very well.”

Liz watched the boy work.

"He's probably lonely," Liz said.

Isabel and Maria nodded.

Liz smiled absently at him and turned back to her friends. Isabel was checking her watch. "The boys should have been here already," she said.

"Let's give them a few more minutes before we go look- ing for them," Maria said.

"Okay," Liz agreed. They couldn't stay in the diner for- ever. And though it wasn't exactly full, they couldn't take up the table all day. The dinner rush… whatever passed for a dinner rush in Stonewall… would be starting soon.

"Excuse me," a voice said from next to Liz. She turned to see the boy who had been looking at them.

"Excuse me," he repeated in a slow, deliberate tone. Then the boy thrust a piece of paper toward the girls. "Have you seen my sister?" he asked.

Looking down, Liz could see that the paper was similar to the flyer that was posted on the door. It had the same picture of a teenage girl and read, have you seen my sister? with a phone number on the bottom.

"Have you seen her?" he asked again. His voice was friendly, but there was a worried edge to it.

"No, I'm sorry, we haven't," Isabel said.

"Jimmy stop bothering the customers," the woman who had served them shouted from behind the counter.

"It's okay," Liz said. "He's not bothering us.”

The woman shrugged and said, "Come on, Jimmy, I need you to take out the garbage.”

Before he turned away, Liz reached out her hand, touched him gently on the arm, and said, "Has she been gone long?”

"She's miss… missing," he said.

Then he looked a Liz with surprise and said very clearly, "You saw her.”

Liz shook her head gently. "No, I saw her picture on the door, but I haven't seen her.”

Shaking his head, Jimmy looked confused, the clarity that was on his face a moment ago now gone. "I remem- bered you," he said uncertainly.

"I'm sorry," Liz said.

"Okay," Jimmy said as he walked away.

"We'll call you if we see her," Isabel said as Jimmy headed into the kitchen.

A few minutes later, Liz saw Max, Michael, and Kyle approach on the sidewalk. She caught just a glimpse of them before they reached the door. "There's something wrong," she said.

"Another flash, Parker?" Maria asked.

"No, I just saw Max," she said.

Then the boys were inside, and Liz saw three long faces. She could also see that the boys were tired after spending an hour and a half walking from the car.

Max reached the table first. "We have a problem," he said.

"Sit down, Max. We'll get you something to eat and fig- ure it out," Liz said.

"We can't eat," Max said. Michael and Kyle frowned when he said that. "Let's just talk about this outside.”

After the boys had told their story, Maria asked, "So how much money do we have?”

Liz didn't have to check to answer that. They had spent almost twenty dollars at the diner. "Forty-two forty," she said.

Then she watched Maria give Michael a smack on the shoulder. "Why didn't your stupid alien-powers work?”

"Who knows," Michael replied.

"Something must be wrong," Max said with a grave expression on his face.

"No," Liz said. "Nothing's wrong.”

All eyes turned to her, and she said. "I should have thought of this.”

"What?" Max asked.

"There's no way you can use your powers to make gold," she said. The others continued to look at her with confused expressions.

"Look," she continued. "You can use your powers to change the molecular structure of things. You actually move molecules around, right?" she said.

"Yes," Max said, realization dawning on his face. "Mole- cules…”

Liz nodded, and Michael jumped in. "What? What about them? Would Mr. and Mrs. Wizard mind explaining this to the audience at home?" he said.

"Gold is not gold because of its molecular structure," she said. "Gold is gold because of its atomic weight.”

"And we can make something look like gold, but it won't actually be gold," Max said.

"But Max made you that diamond," Maria said.

Liz nodded. It was beautiful and still in her pocket. She and Max had meant to get a setting for it, but had run out of time. "He made it out of charcoal. Both coal and dia- monds are different forms of carbon. They're identical on the atomic level," she said.

Michael nodded and said, in a reasonable tone, "Wait, then, what you're saying is that because of the way our powers work… we're completely screwed and broke!”

"Well, yeah," Liz said.

"Why not make some more diamonds, Max?" Maria asked.

"The only place to sell them in this town would be the pawnshop, and the owner will call the police if we step inside again. And with no transportation, we can't get to the next town," Max said.

"So what now? We're hundreds of miles from home. We can't use a cell phone… or, God forbid, an ATM. The van is busted, and we'll be lucky if we have enough money for a motel room for the night.”

"If we don't spend anything else," Max said.

"Wait a minute, what about food? Buddha's Middle Way requires that I avoid extremes of self-denial," Kyle said.

That's right, the boys haven't eaten, Liz thought. Sud- denly, Liz felt guilty about the food she, Isabel, and Maria had eaten, and the money they had spent.

"There has to be something we can do to make some money," Maria said.

"We could use our powers to rob a bank," Michael said.

All the others shot him a look, and he put his hands up and said, "Kidding.”

"Max?" Liz said.

He shrugged. "I don't have any answers here," he said.

Kyle stepped forward and said, "It's obvious, then.”

"What?" Maria asked.

"We'll have to get jobs to make enough money to fix the van and get out of town," Kyle said.

"In the meantime, we'll have to pay for food and a place to sleep," Liz added.

"Looks like we don't have a choice," Max said.

"You guys have to eat," Liz said. "We have to figure something out.”

Max nodded and said, "After we have a room for the night, we'll see how much we have left.”

Michael and Kyle seemed relieved to hear that. "But first, we need to stop by the garage and make sure they've started on the van.”

Liz nodded and pointed down the street in the direc- tion of the garage. "Gomer said it's Johnny's Garage and is down the street," she said.

"We'll split up. Michael, Kyle, and I will see about the van and see if we can find a room and any work," Max said.

"We can start job hunting in the meantime," Liz said.

"We'd better hurry. It's getting close to five. People are going to start closing up. I don't think this town has much in the way of nightlife," Maria said.

As they approached the garage, Kyle said, "Let me do the talking.”

Max twitched in surprise, but didn't say anything. It took an effort for him not to take charge, Kyle realized. "Garage-mechanic powers, boys," he said.

"Of course," Max said.

"Yeah, we're just mere human-alien hybrids with the ability to transform matter and control incredible ener- gies," Michael said.

Johnny's Garage was at least a hundred yards past the last store on Main Street, an ancient Laundromat. The garage looked just as ancient. It was basically a large barn with sheds jutting haphazardly from the sides. A pair of gas pumps sat in front, and a number of equally old cars were scattered around the place.

The small office was empty, so Kyle led the way into the barn itself. There were four repair bays, three of which were currently occupied by cars that were nearly his age and looked it.

The first bay contained a car over thirty years old. It was a 1968 Thunderbird in mint condition. The hood was down, and Kyle was certain it was the owner's car and had obviously been cared for very well.

Kyle racked his brain for information on that car. It might come in handy.

The shop itself was surprisingly well kept… at least compared with the outside. He had been expecting the place to be littered with junk, but tools and car parts were all pretty much in their place.

And though Johnnys Garage lacked some of the com- puterized diagnostic equipment that Kyle had taken for granted back in Roswell, he doubted that equipment would be necessary in this town, considering the age of the cars he had seen here.

The other remarkable thing about the shop was that it seemed to be empty of people.

"Hello," Kyle called out as they walked toward the back of the barn.

After he repeated himself two more times, someone appeared from under the car in the last bay.

Kyle immediately saw that he was older than Kyle's own father, perhaps by ten years or more. Tall and wiry, the man had hair so gray, it was almost white. It was also long and tied back in a ponytail.

Like virtually everyone they had seen so far in Stonewall, the man eyed them suspiciously.

"Hi," Kyle said.

The man nodded.

"Is this your place?" Kyle asked.

"Yep," the man said.

"So you're Johnny," Kyle said, giving the man a friendly smile.

He shook his head and said simply, "Nope," offering no further explanation. Kyle didn't press the issue.

"That your T-Bird?" Kyle said.

"Yep," the man said.

. "It's nice… you don't see a lot of them on the road," Kyle said, keeping his voice friendly even as he felt the tension from Michael behind him. Buddha taught patience, but Michael was no Buddhist. The man didn't reply. Seeing that he wasn't getting anywhere with small talk, Kyle decided to get to business. "Gomer towed our van," Kyle said, gesturing to the van in the second repair bay.

"Won't start," the man said.

"Have you opened it up yet?" Kyle asked "Nope," the man replied.

"Well, I saw that two pistons were out, plus the timing chain, and the starter," Kyle said.

The man's expression changed slightly, and for a moment he looked at Kyle with a flicker of respect. The man approached the van and said, "Guess it's pretty well busted.”

"Can you fix it?" Kyle asked.

"Yep," the man said. "But parts will be a problem." The man circled the van, looking at it with mild inter- est now.

"Gomer said you had a junked VW van. Maybe we could work something out," Kyle said.

"Maybe we could," the man said. Then he shifted his attention to the boys and said, "Before we get into a long discussion here tell me if you have the money for this.”

Looking down, Kyle realized they were a mess after driving through the night and walking for two hours. He didn't blame the man for asking. The three of them didn't look like they had the money for lunch much less for expensive repairs on a classic car.

And, more importantly, they actually didn't have the money. Kyle realized that they should have concocted a better story. Of course, they had expected to have money from Max's gold. Now, they were broke, and Kyle didn't want to admit it, but he didn't see that he had much choice. "See, that's the thing…," Kyle said. "We don't have the money right now. But… ”

The man was already turning away from them and heading back to the car he had been working on.

"Wait," Kyle said, following him as the man leaned down under the open hood to look at the engine.

"Look, come back when you've got some money," the man said, not looking up.

"Well, I was wondering if you needed any help around here," Kyle said. "I worked in… " Kyle caught himself. He had almost said Roswell.

"Down south," he said finally.

"Don't need any help," the man said.

"Look, you're backed up, and you're here by yourself," Kyle said.

The man shook his head and was about to speak when Kyle added, "And you'll be here all night if you think replacing that fuel pump will make a difference.”

Kyle pointed to the old fuel pump on the ground next to the car the man was working on. The new one he no doubt intended to put in was sitting right next to it.

"What?" the man said.

"Your problem is with the fuel line," Kyle said.

The man looked at him with surprise. Kyle hoped he had not offended him. He also hoped he was right.

Ducking his head into the engine compartment, the man reached down for a moment and pulled his hand back up. Kyle could see that his fingers were wet with gas.

The man looked up at him in genuine surprise and said, "Long crack in the fuel line, like you said. How did you know that?”

"In these big, old eight-cylinder Chevys more often than not it's an old fuel line that's the trouble. Look, I really know what I'm doing," Kyle said.

The man stood up and studied Kyle for a moment. "We don't get a lot of strangers here, and they make people in Stonewall nervous," he said.

"Why?" Kyle asked.

The man shrugged and said, "There's been some trouble." He didn't elaborate, and Kyle decided not to push it.

"Be here at seven tomorrow morning. If you know what you're doing, I'll give you a chance. Seven bucks an hour.”

"Seven?" Kyle said, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. He had made almost twice that at home.

"This isn't down south, son, in case you haven't noticed. Anyway, you look like you need a job, and I don't need the help that badly," the man said.

"Okay, okay," Kyle said. Then an idea struck him, and he pointed back at Max and said, "My friend here knows bodywork. He's, um, got great hands, if you need that kind of thing.”

Kyle turned to get Max's attention, but it wasn't neces- sary. Max kept his face neutral and nodded, going along with whatever Kyle was doing.

The man waved him off and said, "Let's see if you can hold a wrench first, then we'll see about your friend.”

Kyle held out his hand and said, "I'm Kyle, by the way.”

The man hesitated and then finally shook Kyle's hand. "Dan.”

"I'll see you at seven, Dan," Kyle said.

Dan didn't respond. He simply turned and went back to work on the car.

As Kyle and his friends stepped back outside, Max said, "Nice work.”

Michael added, "Yeah, one of us has a job.”

Kyle couldn't help but smile, then he said, "True, but at seven dollars an hour, it will take me a couple of months to pay for the repairs.”

"Michael and I will find something, and maybe the girls will too," Max said. Then he added, "You do realize that I've never done bodywork in my life.”

"Yes, but you can reorganize matter at the molecular level," Kyle said! "I'm sure your powers will work fine when it comes to banging out dents.”

Kyle realized as he spoke that he had done something that Max and Michael hadn't been able to do with their remarkable powers. He had done something that would help himself and his friends.

On the way back into town, Kyle found that he could barely keep the smile from his face.