"I'll fix it," Isabel offered, taking a position in front of
the open hood. Raising her hand, she used her powers on
the engine, and then nodded to Max.
* * *
This time, there was a loud snap, then the familiar
clicking sound.
Max jumped out of the car and tried again.
Nothing.
Michael weighed in.
Then Max and Isabel tried together.
Michael was shaking his head, "Wow, once unleashed,
our alien-powers are truly staggering."
Kyle couldn't watch anymore and walked over to the
front of the van, where Max, Michael, and Isabel were star-
ing at the uncooperative engine.
"Let me try," Kyle said.
His three friends looked at him in surprise. Liz came around
front and said, "Have you been feeling any ... powers?"
"Why didn't you say something?" Max said.
Kyle gave an apologetic shrug and said, "Well, I wasn't
ready to talk about it, but . . . well, I've been an auto
mechanic for the last two years!"
For a minute, his friends looked at him in confusion;
then, Max gave him an embarrassed smile. "Of course—
sorry, Kyle," Max said as the others laughed.
Leaning down into the engine compartment, Kyle
found himself laughing too. "Stand back, my auto
mechanic powers are pretty incredible," he said.
Taking a quick look, Kyle shook his head. The 1960s
VW van was a classic. It represented a whole generation of
youth and idealism. It was also old.
"Where did Jesse get this thing?" he asked, turning to
Isabel, whose only response was a scowl. Fair enough. I
deserved that, he thought.
Checking the back of the van, he found a broken
* * *
wrench and a screwdriver. "We'll need some more tools if
we're going to keep the van," he said to Max, who nodded.
Worse than I thought, Kyle thought as he looked over the
engine. Twenty minutes later he looked up and said,
"Well, there's good news and bad news."
"Good news first, please," Maria said.
"The good news is that we've just witnessed a miracle:
the van making it to Colorado," he said.
"But what's wrong with it?" Max asked.
"How much time have we got?" Kyle replied. Then,
before Max could reply, he said, "Well, just about all of the
belts and hoses need to be replaced. I figure you could
spruce them up with your powers. However, two of the
pistons aren't working. Now, that could be a tune-up, but
I would need a shop to be sure. 1 also have a bad feeling
about the starter, and finally, the thing that stopped us
cold is the timing chain. It's busted."
"How bad is that?" Michael said.
"On a foreign car? This old? Out in the middle of
nowhere? Pretty bad. Even if we could find the part, I would
need a full shop and a few hours to put it in," he said.
"But now that you know what it is, can't we just zap it?"
Maria said. "In case you haven't noticed, we've been driv-
ing all night and all day. I'm hungry and tired."
"I don't think it's going to be that simple," Max said.
"Compared with putting a windshield back together,
this should be easy," Maria said.
"But they know what a windshield looks like," Kyle
said.
"To rearrange molecules of something, we have to be
able to see it in our minds, or have a sense of how it works.
* * *
I think I was engineered with an intuitive sense about how
the body works, which is why I can heal people," Max said.
"Unfortunately, an old car is more complicated than a
piece of glass," Kyle said.
"How long would it take for you to teach me everything I
needed to know to understand all the repairs?" Max asked.
"More time than we have today, and I won't know
everything that's wrong until I take some stuff apart. I
think we're going to have to get the van towed," Kyle said.
The others looked at Max, who thought for a moment
and nodded his head. "Okay," he said.
Isabel and Michael nodded their agreement. For all of
Max's protests about not wanting to be in charge, he was
still making decision. And the others were still looking to
him.
of nowhere." She reached into her purse to take out her
cell phone. "Who knows how long it will take for someone
to get out here?"
"No," Max said firmly as Michael quickly took the cell
phone from Maria.
"Hey," she said, grabbing for it as Michael kept it out of
reach.
"Maria, we can't use a cell phone," Liz said.
"What!" she exclaimed.
"They could track us," Max said calmly.
"Who?" she said.
"Take your pick," Michael said. "The various bad guys
we're trying to avoid, but my money would be on our per-
sonal favorite, the Special Unit."
"So what are we supposed to do? Just wait around in
* * *
the middle of nowhere for someone to drive by? Well, I
have news for you: It's been a long time since we've seen a
car," Maria said. "We could be here for a while."
Before anyone could respond, a pickup truck appeared
in the distance. All heads turned to watch it approach
from the direction they themselves had come.
"Or not," Michael said.
Maria squinted at him but didn't say anything.
Max leaned into the road and waved as the truck got
closer. The pickup slowed and came to a stop on the side
of the road just ahead of them. The group moved closer,
with Max in the lead.
There was a single middle-aged man inside. He leaned
over and rolled down the passenger-side window as he
gave the group and the van an appraising look. "Trouble
with your van," he said. It was a statement, not a question,
and his expression was neutral.
"Yes," Max said.
"Lucky for you I came by. We don't see a lot of traffic
out here," the man said.
"We noticed," Max said. "How far is the nearest town?"
"Stonewall is about five miles," the man replied, point-
ing up ahead.
Max gestured to the back of the pickup and said, "We
would appreciate a ride."
"No," the man said simply.
Kyle understood. The man was alone, and they were six
strangers.
"I don't know you kids, but I will send Gomer back
with the tow truck, though."
"Thanks," Max said, and the man sped away.
* * *
"Well, thank goodness for Gomer," Kyle said, smiling.
The others laughed.
"How long do you think, Kyle? For the repairs," Max said.
"Depends on how long it takes to get the parts. A nine-
teen sixty-six VW van timing chain . . . ," he said. "The
actual repairs I could do myself in maybe a day. The ques-
tion is, can we afford to have them all done now? How
much cash do we have, anyway?"
"Cash . . . ?" Max said.
"Yeah, I'm assuming that us
ing the ATM is out," Kyle said.
"Uh-oh," Liz said.
Together, everyone started to reach into his or her vari-
ous pockets and purses. A moment later they had pooled
their resources and Liz had begun counting. "Sixty-eight
dollars and forty cents," she said.
"And we'll need gas once we get going," Kyle said.
Michael took a quick inventory of their sour faces.
"Don't forget," he said as he reached down to pick up a
medium-size rock. Handing the rock to Max, he said,
"Powers unleashed, Maxwell. How about whipping up
some gold?"
"Gold?" Liz said. "How are you going to sell that with-
out attracting attention?"
"A small-town jewelry store or even a pawn shop
shouldn't ask too many questions," Michael said. "Besides,
getting stuck in this small town with no money will attract
attention too."
Max cupped the rock in his hands, which began to
glow a familiar red. A moment later, he opened his hands
to reveal two small bars of shiny gold. "Just a couple of
ounces," Max said.
* * *
"It's plenty. You can always make more," Michael said.
"We'll eat well tonight and sleep in decent beds."
"As soon as Gomer gets here," Isabel said.
Twenty minutes later, they saw a tow truck approach
from the direction of Stonewall.
The tow truck backed up to the van, and a tall, beefy
guy who needed a shave jumped out. Kyle guessed he was
in his early twenties.
"Gomer?" Max said, approaching.
"Trouble with your van," Gomer said, his face serious.
"Yes," Max said.
"It's old," Gomer said.
Max nodded to that.
Pulling on the tow truck's rig, Gomer quickly hooked
. the van to it. "We'll get you fixed up. My boss has one of
these out back. A junker," Gomer said.
Kyle was immediately relieved. If the garage owner had
a junk VW van, they wouldn't have to wait for parts. Kyle
could strip what he needed from the other van. Leaning
over to Isabel, he said, "About time we caught a break."
"That'll be fifty dollars," Gomer said.
"But you haven't taken it anywhere yet!" Michael said,
unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice.
Gomer stopped and stared at Michael for a long
moment, then he turned to Max and said, "In advance. I
don't know you folks."
Shrugging, Max nodded, and Liz counted out fifty dol-
lars. Then she handed it to Gomer.
Turning for the van, Kyle said, "Let us get in before you
raise it."
"No," Gomer said, stopping Kyle short. "I can't have
* * *
you in the van during a tow. It's against the law and it
voids our insurance."
Isabel stepped forward. When she spoke, she sounded
firm, assured—more like herself. "You can't leave us all
out here, five miles from town."
Giving her an appraising glance, Gomer said, "I
wouldn't do that." Then he gestured to the girls. "You
three can ride with me in the truck."
"No way," Liz said.
"Go ahead, Liz," Max said. "We'll catch up."
"We'll be fine," Max assured her. Then he lowered his
voice and said, "Stonewall might be dangerous, better if
you go first."
Liz smiled. "Okay."
"Get yourselves something to eat. We'll be along," Max
said.
By then, the van was raised, and Gomer was ready to
roll. "Come on," he called from inside the tow truck.
The girls got inside, and the truck pulled away.
"This has been a long day," Kyle said as the three boys
looked down the road after the van.
"Cheer up," Michael said. "The day isn't over yet.
Things could still go our way."
To Kyle's surprise, there was a small smile on Michael's
face. Max was unreadable, as usual. But that smile still
seemed out of place on Michael's face. Something was
going on with him.
Aliens, Kyle thought, shrugging his shoulders.
Kyle, Michael, and Max started walking toward
Stonewall.
* * *
5
not much of a town, Liz thought as the tow truck
approached Stonewall.
They traveled along Main Street, which looked like a
smaller version of the small New Mexico main streets she
had seen in little towns near home. Maybe less of a Mexi-
can influence in the architecture, but the same basic run-
down appearance.
Maria made a face that said, We left Roswellfor this?
Liz saw a place called Bell's Diner and said, "Could you
drop us here?"
Gomer brought the truck to a stop and said, "Johnny's
Garage is at the end of the street."
"We'll come by when the guys get here," Liz said as
Isabel and Maria hopped out of the truck. "Thank you,"
she added as she jumped out last.
"It's not the Crashdown," Isabel said, giving the store-
front an appraising stare.
It certainly was not, Liz had to agree. The paint in the
front was cracked and peeling.
* * *
"Hey Liz, look. Opportunity," Maria said, pointing to a
HELP WANTED sign taped to the inside of the window. Liz
smiled at Maria. One thing was certain: They hadn't left
Roswell to become waitresses again—not in a place like this.
Reaching for the door, Liz was stopped by another sign.
This one was written in a childish scrawl and read, HAVE
YOU SEEN MY SISTER? Then there was a photocopied picture
of a teenage girl and a phone number.
Liz felt a chill as she looked at a yearbook picture of a
girl about her own age.
Maria and Isabel gently nudged her into the diner. As
they stepped inside, Liz saw ancient linoleum on the floor
and some well-worn tables and booths. Her parents'
restaurant, the Crashdown, was fancy by comparison.
Whoever ran Bell's Diner was not particularly meticulous,
On the other hand, Liz was sure that there was less money
going around in Stonewall than in Roswell.
"Sit wherever you like," an older woman with graying
hair was pouring coffee behind the counter. Though she
wasn't wearing a uniform, Liz assumed she was a waitress.
Liz chose a booth by the window, where they could see Main
Street. That way, they could see when the guys showed up.
Maria threw herself into the booth and said, "I am
starving."
The waitress dropped menus off without a word. Maria
and Isabel immediately opened theirs, but Liz waited a
moment. "Maybe we should wait for the guys."
"Liz . . . ," Maria said. "Starving won't help them. Trust
me, Max would want you to eat."
Liz thought about if for a moment. Maria was probably
right. Still...
* * *
The waitress arrived, interrupting her thought.
Without hesitation, Isabel looked up and said, "I'll have
a cheeseburger deluxe and a Coke."
Well, that settles it, Liz thought.
The faded and chipped sign read WELCOME TO STONEWALL.
&n
bsp; "See, they said welcome, they must be friendly,"
Michael said.
Kyle stumbled, and Max immediately held out his hand
to grasp his arm. "Are you okay, do you want to take a
break?" Though it was just about eighty degrees out, the
sun had been blasting them for the whole trip. And
because of Michael's pushing, they had not stopped once.
"Football has conditioned my body," Kyle said. "And
walking Buddha's Middle Way has conditioned my spirit."
"What the hell does that mean!?" Michael asked, mak-
ing a face.
"I'm good," Kyle said.
They approached the town, and Max felt the begin-
nings of relief. He would feel even better when they had
the van fixed and were back on the road. The farther they
traveled from Roswell, the harder they would be to track.
They passed a Laundromat, which was the first store on
Main Street. There were three women outside who stared
at the boys as they came closer.
"Look, some of Stonewalls friendly citizens," Michael
said. Then he raised his hand and waved to the women.
"Afternoon," he said as the strangers quickly looked away.
"Michael," Max said softly. "We are trying to avoid
attracting attention."
"Maxwell, I think the arrival of the morning paper
* * *
attracts attention in this town. I get the feeling that we're
the most excitement they've seen in years."
Michael was right, Max knew. The Main Street was
nearly empty of people. As strangers in such a small town,
they couldn't help attracting attention. But that didn't
mean they had to go out of their way to alert people to
their presence.
Up ahead, they saw a sign for Bell's Diner.
"There we are," Michael said, "pointing to the sign. Let's
eat," Michael said.
"Wait," Max said. "I'll feel better when we have money
in our pockets, and it wouldn't hurt to make sure the
garage has gotten started on the van."
"Max, we left aliens and conspiracies hundreds of miles
back there," Kyle said, pointing back the way they had
come. "You can relax a little. We all can."
That was it, Max realized. Kyle was relaxing.
Max wasn't there yet. And for a moment, he wondered
if he would ever be. But he was done taking charge of