The Smoky Corridor

20

Wade Muggins limped across the janitor’s closet, pressed the third shelf on the phony supply rack, and stepped back as the secret panel swung open.

His tailbone was still aching from when he had sprained his butt during the explosion. He hobbled over to the wall and checked out the jagged hole his propane rodent repellant had blasted open.

Fortunately, nobody had heard the big kaboom, because they had all been way out back in the auditorium when it had happened. Now Wade noticed that the explosion had crackled the layer of dried hardpan coating the root cellar floor.

He kicked away some of the chunks.

“Whoa. Dude.”

He dug deeper.

First he found a rusty old revolver Horace P. Pettimore must have buried in the root cellar’s dirt floor. He tucked it into his pants.

Then he found a flagstone with some extremely whacked stuff carved into its top.

Wade found a whisk broom and brushed the stone clean like an umpire dusting home plate. The stone was etched with all sorts of screwy symbols like Martians probably used in their spaceship manuals; only one sentence was spelled out in earthling letters.

“Dude, this is like a discovery on the National Geographic Channel! Totally!”

And the flagstone was right in front of the hole in the wall.

“The aliens probably left it here, man. When they hid their spaceship … underground!”

He studied that one line about turning back.

“Okay. On their journey, they watched a lot of our TV transmissions, Sesame Street and stuff, and they learned just enough English to carve that one line so they could scare people away from their parking spot!”

It made sense.

If Wade were a Martian, he would definitely hide his flying saucer where nobody could see it.

Underground. Under a school. Maybe all the way out back, under the cemetery.

And then he’d make a Martian sign so he’d remember how to find it when it was time to fly home.

Dude! This was going to make Wade so famous he would be on the local news at six and eleven!

He quickly ran back to his secret entrance to the Wade Cave, pulled the shelving unit shut, reset the spring, and locked himself in the root cellar. He didn’t want to share his fame and glory with anyone.

“I come in peace!” he shouted into the darkness.

Then, grabbing a flashlight, he crawled into the hole he had blown through the wall.