Free Joan Hess - Arly Hanks 08 by Martians in Maggody

hang up and -- "
    "Don't start mouthing off at me, missy. I came all the way over here to tell you about the alien that landed by Raz Buchanon's field last night, but I can see you're a sight too busy reading a tabloid to pay any attention to the very woman who walked the floor with you night and day for five months on account of colic and -- "
    "Okay!" I put the Weekly Examiner in the bottom drawer, rocked back in my chair, and arranged my feet on the corner of the desk. "Go ahead and tell me all about the alien. Maybe I'll write up a report and send it over to Harve Dorfer so he'll have fresh reading material for the john. It might come in handy if they run short of toilet paper.
    Her jaw flapped for a while, but she finally got hold of herself and sat down in the chair across from me. "If you make one more wisecrack, you're gonna find yourself eating canned soup for a month of Sundays."
    "So tell me," I said meekly. Five minutes later, after she'd run out of hyperbole, I said, "Let me get this straight: You and other witnesses heard a bang across the creek, then saw a light and something white and shiny. Afterward you saw another light receding in the sky. Does that sum it up?" There may have been a sarcastic tinge to my voice, but I was keeping a remarkably straight face, all things considered. Canned soup was one of them.
    "Ain't you gonna go investigate before folks start trampling on the evidence?"
    "Investigate what? You just said these mysterious lights vanished."
    Ruby Bee stood up. "You just trot yourself down to Boone Creek and have a look. I suggest you do it before you show up at the bar and grill to beg for a free lunch. The special today is meat loaf and fried okra."
    I was still gaping at her as she sailed out the door. "Manipulative" was much too mild a word for Ruby Bee, but I couldn't think of one that captured her talent. Besides, we're not real fond of five syllable words in Maggody. I was still working on it ("dictatorial" had the same syllable count, but "bossy" had promise) when the telephone rang. Secure in the knowledge Ruby Bee was in transit, I picked up the receiver.
    What I heard was not heartening. My cornstalk had been examined at the agri department lab at Farber College. Thus far nothing had been found, not even one wee little corn borer or hint of smut. Nobody was giving up yet, but it wasn't likely that I'd end up with a tidy explanation anytime soon.
    In the meantime, Maggody had just entertained its very first extraterrestrial. I dutifully listened to the messages on the answering machine, all of which were from Ruby Bee and pretty much incoherent. I then grabbed a notebook and drove out to the north end of town. Both sides of the road were lined with cars and trucks, some familiar and some with out-of-state license plates and bumper stickers extolling exotic locales like Mount Rushmore and Six Flags over Texas. The van from the local television station had appropriated the prime parking place. I left my car behind the old Esso station, scrambled down the slope to the creek, and headed upstream, following the babbling of voices rather than that of the brook.
    Damned if they hadn't started the investigation without me. The woman reporter was speaking into the camera, this time sounding like a Methodist minister at a funeral. Beyond her were a good-size number of gawkers constrained by a droopy strip of yellow tape. Ruby Bee was not among them, but Estelle was relating her version of the "dadburn most incredible thing" she'd ever seen in all her born days, even counting the time she went to Noow Yark City. Her audience, which included Jules Channel (whose most recent by-lines were "My Dog Was Sucked Through the Ozone Hole!" and "Ship-wrecked Missionary Ate His Own Liver to Survive!"), appeared to be impressed, although her story seemed pale in comparison to his. I didn't recognize anyone inside the secured area, but I'd heard enough gossip to have an idea who they were. I brushed past