The Goomeri Pointing Bone : Sequel to Dwarg in the Seventh Dimension Read online

  Chapter Seventeen

  Edna had a lot of grocery shopping to do. She almost teased herself by resisting the urge to run down Springfield Street and check out the painting. Exercise self discipline girl, she thought to herself; everything in priority order; bakery next, then Ed and some of his baked beans; then a slow stroll to Shef’s Arts.

  “You have to be kidding me, you’ve sold it already? but it’s still morning; Monday morning; hardly anyone on the streets yet. Can you at least tell me who bought the painting?” Edna was not happy with Shef; it wasn’t his fault of course but Edna could not come to grips with the possibility of losing track of that mysterious picture.

  “Caint ritly say. Gent come in when Ah opened; sasayed strit to it, picked er up, paid cash and goed; doent een want er wrapped.”

  “Have you seen him before? A stranger?”

  “Taint seen im afore; sorry. Ah got udder nice fancy pitchers if’n ya care to looken Edna.”

  “No, that painting was the one I wanted. Where did you get it from Shef? I need to know, it’s important.”

  “Ah git it proper; git all my art and craft proper; git paperwork n all; my kin in Minnesota sent bunch of em last week from Cottonwood. Dat one she got offa estate auction; paid nearen ten dollars for it n all.”

  “Well do you know if it was signed? the artist? was there a signature on the painting?”

  “Forgit..wait..still havn the tag ere. Ya, it was signed, J.Robinson; looked im up; nuttin of interest.”

  “This tag? You sold it for $750?”

  “Dat customer didn’t ain boder to h’gle; jist paid and goed. Ya tinkin I sold it too cheap?”

  Edna didn’t reply, she left Shef’s Arts, stepped onto the footpath, uttered a silent curse and kicked some snow into the gutter in anger. Darn and darn, what are the odds of all this. Dejected, she walked along the sidewalk towards her Hummer; she would probably not see Aggie again today, perhaps tonight. She gave a little wave to her security patrol, parked directly behind then climbed into her vehicle and turned the ignition key.

  She looked into the rear-view mirror and quickly turned the motor off. There it was again! propped up on the back seat; that painting..that painting of the woman in the red dress! Edna reached for her Abenaki protecting charm and looked in the mirror again; it was still there. How? what? who? Her mind was racing and she sat there most bewildered...until she heard the short toot- toot of the car behind her. Oh those crazy security guys, how wonderful. She turned to look at the painting. It had a card attached “FOR A NICE LADY – THANK YOU FOR THE TOW AND ALL THE GRUB .. AND FOR NOT TELLING OUR BOSS.”

  She smiled and started the engine, opened her window and poked her arm out and gave them a wave. One of the men pointed to the large sign above Shef’s Gallery. Edna looked for a while and realized that even security people have a sense of humour. The sign, once written as SHEF’S ARTS, was now minus the S in the centre.

  Edna could hardly wait to get home and study the painting in more detail.

  -oOo-

  Ken kept shaking his head in disbelief “No way, I can’t believe it. Missing? For two days? I was standing there looking at some sparks flying by me; I remember calling to Ernie; next thing I’m on the deck, naked, with Abdul on top of me. I’ve been unconscious before, but never like this. All so weird; and I’ve got a headache from hell; and my foot, it hurts really bad.”

  “Have a look at this” said Ernie, picking up the surgical steel screw he found amongst Ken’s clothing, “seen this before?”

  “No, should I? Looks like one of those screws that surgeons use to secure bone fractures. I’ve got one of those things in my right foot; had a bit of a mishap when...when... aw Ernie, no, don’t tell me it’s mine.” Ernie nodded.

  “Bullshit man, where’s that metal detector?”

  It was early morning and not one of them wanted to leave the warmth of the Mess Hall. The real problem was that no-one actually knew what happened. Where was Ken for the last two days? What had they actually seen? None were willing to accept the all too obvious dematerialisation/materialisation concept; it had to be something else. Alex finally said, “Gentlemen, Professor Lien is still missing. We’ve got Ken back, under mysterious circumstances. Abdul has to explain at least something to his superiors; something believable; something that won’t see him, and maybe even ourselves, put into straight-jackets and into padded cells.”

  “I thank you for those words, which were my thoughts. You know, there have been mysterious disappearances of people in the Sahara due to quick-sand. As recently as three months ago, two teenagers were lost, simply disappeared. They were fossicking along a dry river bed near Sirte and one of them began to sink; the other who tried to rescue him was also drawn down. Is there any chance, I mean any chance of believing, that perhaps the Professor and Mister Ken may have became similar victims? It was very dark after all. The fact that Mister Ken was rescued later was of course, a miraculous and wonderful event.”

  Aaron rubbed his chin. “Quick-sand at this height? There’s a few holes in that story, to pardon my pun. Your own Ministry of Environment undertook extensive surveys and sampling of this area.”

  “Hmm, you mean every square inch, every square inch?”

  “Well no, of course not Abdul.”

  “Well there you are then, those incompetents missed that spot, the spot where our men were sucked down. If I were not of such a gentle mind, I would see them flogged with the plaited tail of a filthy donkey. Gentlemen, on behalf of my government, may I apologize for the inefficiencies of those overpaid bunglers.”

  Ernie said, “Still, we have the problem of the professor my case isn’t closed yet. Perhaps your report may remain inconclusive Abdul. I must admit that’s the best scenario we have, I’ll go along with it, Aaron? Alex?”

  “It’s better than the UFO abduction scenario Ernie.”

  Aaron rose to his feet. “OK, I’ll go rope off the area again and make another warning sign; it’s safe now, right Alex?”

  “Just keep your balls out of the quick-sand mate.”

  “And Abdul, where in blue blazes did you learn to crash tackle someone like that? best tackle I’ve ever seen man.”

  “Well I once was a centre forward for the Dergana Rovers. We won the National Championship League runner-up twice; in ten years, ha ha. Who taught me to tackle? this man, right here; Mister Ken.”

  Ernie also stood up and turned to Abdul, “Sir, I am sorry to report that the GSR I had promised to give you, is broken. Someone dropped it onto the concrete floor and stepped on it; in about 30 minutes from now.”

  “Ah that is a shame Mister Ernie, however I would never dream to question this group of...of honourable men.”

  Alex wondered what that was about, but didn’t press it. “I’m off to the office to wait for Aggie’s call. Abdul, Shükran, batal Al-Yawm.” Did that come out of me? he thought. “And how are you feeling now Ken? Would this be of any help?”

  Alex reached into his backpack and pulled out a bottle of Irish Cream. He placed it into the out-reaching, and still trembling hands of Kenny Kain, who still had no idea of who this dickface was.

  -oOo-

  “Sweetheart, would you believe that it was quick-sand that took the men? and luckily, one was pulled back. That’s going to be the official line by the looks of it. How are you getting on with the calculations? any news of the professor’s whereabouts?”

  “It’s good news and bad news honey. The good news is that Professor Lien has materialized; well to a probability of 98.852. Bad news is that we have no accurate location as to where on earth he is, and I mean that literally. I’ve used a heap of data in tracking the orbit of the FOO. The one minute difference between the release of the carrier beams equates to one quarter of the planet’s surface. He may even have materialized in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. I’ve now reached the point where I can do no more. Oh Alex, this is breaking my heart.”

  “Oh
I wish I was there with you right now Aggie. I take it that the FOO is no more?”

  “Well yes, its owners have lost the control of it. It’s still up there, waiting for my instructions.”

  “What a brilliant mind you have. Should we finish up here Aggie?”

  “I think so darling; I’ll talk with Abdul later. I need to discuss things with the Ambassador first. And I’ll brief Aaron as well.”

  “Can’t wait to be in your arms again. Bye darling.”

  “Hoy Ernie! Message from Aggie: she wants you to know that ‘THE FOO IS POO’.”

  Both laughed.

  -oOo-

  “You come at once please...no, now...immediately.”

  Kurwa mac! he mumbled; these little shits are so formal, remind me of characters from Wizard of Oz. “OK, OK I’m coming; what’s up now, has someone’s rubber band snapped?”

  He was spirited along the many bland, mauve corridors of the huge building, left here; along there; right here until the corridors widened. He faced the elevator and noticed that he now had six escorts around him. The doors slid open and all shuffled in; one of them pressed a button and the elevator whizzed upward to the eleventh floor. He had never been to that floor; it was the tenth floor where he spent most of his time behind the controls and monitors. He was again shuffled from the elevator along a corridor to a door. He did not know the writing on the plaque; it was in Chinese characters.

  “Ah Professor Melczarek, thank you for coming so quickly, I have something here, you should see. Please tell me what you think.”

  He looked at the large piece of paper that the Director placed on the desk in front of him. On it was a large picture of Nikita Khrushchev’s face. Who could forget that face. There were also words, Polish words, which read Halo Professor Melczarek, Tesknie za toba.

  “I believe Mister Khrushchev is no longer a party member, let alone a living person of this planet; yet he salutes you and says he is watching you. Your answer please, Professor.”

  “This was from the Kellor Resources Site in Algeria?”

  “Indeed yes. To say that our presence has been compromised is an understatement; would you agree?”

  “Er, are there other images, other events or clues which I may examine?”

  “This was the last image beamed to our device, before we lost all communication and control. It is now orbiting our planet like a piece of useless space garbage...expensive useless space garbage. I require answers, immediately.”

  “We have been detected sir, I cannot deny that; nor can I explain how. May I be permitted to examine the data leading up to the last transmission? I may find the reason there.”

  “No, you may not. You will be restricted to your rooms until further notice; you will have no, absolutely no contact with anyone other than our security force. We are inspecting your accommodation and your affects. I would hope we do not find anything that may prove subversive to our interests. Consider yourself under house arrest; please leave this office now.” The Director waved to the escorts who roughly ushered Nick out into the corridor.

  Nick yelled with all his might, “To, ze mala suka z Oklahomy! You must believe me, it’s that little bitch from Oklahoma!”

  The Director placed some documents into his briefcase, the family photo with the silver frame, his solid gold fountain pen, his diplomas off the wall and a piece of paper which his daughter had drawn for him all those years ago. He straightened his tie, looked around his office; his last look, and opened the door to the corridor. He was going to face and report to the peoples’ committee.