“Hey, Mirabelle. What’s up?” I said into the phone. 

MB lived five houses down. We’d been best friends since we were four. That’s when she pulled me from a paddle pool because she thought she saw a shark. MB has quite an imagination. 

“It started again.” 

I looked out the window and saw the lamppost flash. The bulb was beating out an annoying jazz rhythm, making the shadows on the street lengthen and shrink with each flicker. 

 “It’s crazy tonight,” I said. 

 “Are you ready?” asked Mirabelle. 

“Okay here, everything’s packed.” 

“Great! See you in five,” she ended. 

The streetlight had been acting weird for a month. It flashed and flickered, and sometimes the entire pole shook. We had recorded its patterns, and then headed to the library. Our research pointed to a power drain. Something was pulling too much electricity off the line. But on our quiet street, what could it be? Our imaginations were getting the better of us, at least the better part of Mirabelle. She guessed we had a neighborhood ghost or aliens recharging their ships. I leaned to a more practical explanation. 

We met at the post. Standing under the pulsing light made me nervous. There was a strange hum and just the hint of a vibration beneath my feet. I took out dad’s video camera and started to record. 

 POP! BANG! SISST! 

“Yipes, what was that?” jumped MB. 

“I have no idea,” I said, as my heart began beating again. “But I think it came from there,” I said, pointing to the nearest house. It had been empty for years and wild roses concealed the walkway. 

Suddenly the entire street went dark and the humming ceased. 

“Simon, I think our answer is there,” Mirabelle’s eyes followed my finger. 

I pulled an extra flashlight from my pack and grabbed my miniature camera. Together, we pushed open the creaky front gate and picked our way down the path. A twig snapped underfoot and made the hairs on my neck bristle. The closer we got to the house, the more I wanted to turn and run. Maybe, MB was right. Aliens? Ghosts? 

The rumbling was more noticeable as we came to the house. There was a peculiar purple glow from the cellar windows. 

“Here, MB, look through this,” I breathed, as I handed her my latest acquisition, a periscope.

Mirabelle placed the periscope down into the window well and peered through one end.

“It’s some kind of laboratory,” she said, surprised. “Lots of gadgets and flashing lights.” 

I took a look. A machine, covered in dials and knobs, filled the room. I pulled out my notebook and began to sketch. 

The humming stopped abruptly. The purple glow extinguished and we stood in silent blackness. 

“Uh, oh. It’s time to get out of here.” 

We raked in our tools and stuffed them in the backpack, pushed to our feet and bolted down the path. 

“Ahhh,” I yelped, as the toe of my sneaker hit one of the uneven stones. I went down, my knees breaking my fall. I scrambled back up and brushed against something solid. I slowly raised my eyes. They met a short little woman with wild, grey hair and a stained lab coat. 

“Are you here with my delivery?” she asked. 

“Uhhh,” I gurgled. 

“Are you building a time machine?” asked Mirabelle, appearing from behind. 

“Something more important! I’m working on  making peanut butter without removing the shell,” said the short woman. “Imagine the bottles we can save. Kids can crack them open at school and spread the creamy filling directly on bread. Biodegradable packaging and nature-fresh! Dr. de Lunatique’s the name. Remember it for the history books.” 

“Those huge machines must use tons of electricity. Do they shake much?” asked MB. 

“I can’t tell you my secret process but, there is some agitating involved,” answered Dr. de Lunatique. 

“That must be the vibrations we felt,” I whispered to MB. 

However, I’m having trouble with my power,” Dr. de Lunatique said distractedly. 

“We noticed a problem with the electricity on the street, too,” I mentioned. 

“Perhaps, a call to the power company is in order. Thanks for coming by,” she said and wandered into the darkness. 

It was cool to have a crazy scientist on the street. I was happy to solve the puzzle, but MB was disappointed. She had hoped it would be something more exciting. 

Mirabelle and I said good-bye and headed home. 

“Hey, MB! Look over there,” I directed her. Above the abandoned lot, a green orb began to shine. 

“Cool. It’s got to be a U.F.O.,” said Mirabelle. “Let me gather some information off the Net, and we can take a look over there tomorrow.”

~The End~

Copyright © 2007 by Heather A. Rising