From: aa811@cleveland.freenet.edu (Terri M. Librande)
Newsgroups: alt.ql.creative
Subject: Mercury Theater #5
Date: 2 Oct 1993 13:33:07 GMT
Organization: Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland, Ohio (USA)
Lines: 86
Message-Id: <28jvuj$p7j@usenet.INS.CWRU.Edu>
Nntp-Posting-Host: slc5.ins.cwru.edu


hey if anyone is reading this and has comments--nows the time
to give 'em to me.  We need to start posting or this is all
going away.

Sorry it took so long to get to part 5.

"That's nonsense."  I was damned curious, even as I said the words with
a snort.  Now, I had two enigmas--the 'kid' and the "ghost'.  And no
answers.  Something, intuition, maybe, told me this was teh right
tact.  Sam was at my shoulder, listening in with half his hearing, nodding
at something Gooshie was saying with the other half.  "Nobody's going 
to communicate with the Nazi's now."

"Y'never know."  the man shrugged, then pursed his lips.  "To hell
with it.  I'm going in and listen in on his apartment.  You'd better
go check on the kid, Marty, and tend to your family.  Christ, this might
be the last night we live on this earth."

The group broke up, probably going to their respective apartments for
more gossip or to say goodbye to their Maker.  I had to check on 'the
kid'.  What apartment?  Silent, Sam followed me as I took a deep breath
and entered the building.  Checked the mailboxes for names, nothng
there.  Got the neighbor of the Ghost, though; Slovisk, Marge and Arthur.
The box nex to that was labelled Gidding, Alexander.  Next to that was
M. Messling and son.  Maybe the kid, maybe not.

I took the steps two at a time, brushing past the old couple, creeping behind
me with exaggerated slowness.  "Al, will you talk to me please?"

"Now you know how it feels, when you go off on a tangent.  Just a hunch,
Sam," I said as I trotted down the L shaped hall in search of the manning
apartment.  I passed one door, hearing the whine of some kind of radio
frequency, but no words, then 203.  Knocking, I waited, hearing in some
semblance of movement from inside.  Then, the door opened.

The boy was wearing braces on both legs, using crutches to walk.  Squinting
up at me, he grinned, showing a smile with one missing tooth, black hair
falling over one eye as he surveyed me.  "Hiya, Marty.  what's all the 
excitement?"

"The Martians have landed, kid."

"Aw, that' s just a radio show.  Orson Wells, the Mercury Theatre!  Gee
whiz!"  he looked perfectly disgusted, and I didn't blame him.  "Is that
why everyone is running in the street?"

"I guess so."  Hands in pockets, I follwed the kid into  the apartment, 
surveying the dark room around me.  The raido was on, playing on after
The radio was on, playing an after shave commercial, perfect peace in
the midst of chaos.

"I got a name, Al."  Sam was giving the boy a worried look, watching
him scott back onthe couch, dropping the crutches to the floor.  "Andy
Messling, age nine.  He had polio when he was seven.  I had Ziggy
doing some checking of his birth records, most of which exist in the
old archives."

I was beginning to feel like a dinosaur, realizing how much time had
elapsed between the time of the here and now, and where Sam was, in the
future.  "Andy," I said, addressing the boy.  "Maybe you can come upstairs
with me and Dottie, just until your Mom comes home.  There's a lot of
sh...things hitting the fan right now and mabye being alone isn't the 
best idea right now."

"I can't."  He gave me a strange look as if I should know better than
to ask him such a thing.  "Alex might need me."

"Alex?"

"Y'know, the Ghost.  Next door?  he's been moving around a lot tonight,
maybe a little worried. He never listens to the radio, just that ham job
he has and I can sort of sense when he's upset or afraid."  I glanced at
Sam for support and recieved a shrug.  No help there.  "Alex Gidding?" he
said, as if wondering why I was staring stupidly at him.  "I guess...
well,you guys thinnk he's some kind of freak, but he's not--not really.
Just quiet, doesn't talk much.  I think people talk too much, about 
nothing.  Alex says that.  He's from Europe and siad that's what got people
in trouble there.  Talking."

More to com....the final part and then I NEED HELP?

-- 
"Girls who have glasses have lots & lots of energy!" Al--Single Drop of Rain
Terri Librande aa811@cleveland.Freenet.edu--Assistant Sysop
The Science Fiction and Fantasy Sig--Go SCIFI