No Use Crying
by Bob Clark
The
moment Alex Messer got his once in a lifetime chance to save the world he was
out jogging. Alex thought the exercise would keep his body fit for whenever he
might meet an eligible female. He chugged up to a pair of baby carriages parked
next to a bench in Laredo’s
St. Peter’s Plaza and panted to a stop in order to survey the two attractive
women seated there. It was the first time he had worked up the courage to
approach them since he first spotted them taking their breaks on the same bench
a few months back. They looked good from afar and even better as he drew near. This is the day to strike. 
He saw how
they eyed him and whispered to each other as he made a show of checking his
pulse. He cleared his throat and addressed the women, suspecting the first to
answer would be his. “Excuse me ladies. Do you mind if I sit here a moment and
rest? Been jogging for an hour and I’m a little winded.”
The
women took in the thirty-seven year old’s handsome features and he was elated
when the prettier of the pair nodded. In heavily accented English, she said,
“Is OK, senor.”
His
heart danced. For too long, Alex had run by the women and the carriages they
pushed in a vain effort to catch the eye of at least one. He was certain they
were from across the border in Nuevo
Laredo. They had to be part of the army of maids hired
by the wealthy families who lived in the large turn of the century homes among
the tree shaded streets around St. Peter’s Church. The hard working maids cared for the children of the well to do and cleaned the homes, but he knew that since their work was almost all indoors, they had little contact with the men of Laredo.
Mmmm. If I play my cards right, my luck is going to change on this sunny morning.
“Senor,” said the good-looking one, “could you do us a favor?”
He
flashed a bright smile and answered,
“Anything at all for you. It would be my pleasure.”
“Anything at all for you. It would be my pleasure.”
The
pretty one put a hand to her mouth for a second, then took it away. “Bueno, we
see you all the times you come here and you look like a nice man. We have trust
in you for this favor.”
“Well,”
he said, beaming brighter. “I am honored at your faith in me and pleased to be
of assistance.”
“Muchas
gracias,” she said and motioned to the maid next to her. “My friend Matilda and
me, we need to make a short visit to, how you say it? A resting room?”
She pointed across the park to a stately home where Live Oak trees grew. “At the house, we have una amiga and she allows it.”
“I don’t understand though. Where do I come in?” asked Alex.
The
pretty one shrugged and said, “We don’t want to push carriages all the way
there and then all the way back. Is possible for you to watch the babies for a
few minutes until we return?”
“Sure,” he nodded, “as long as I don’t
have to change any diapers.”
The two women giggled and stood up. The pretty one smiled at him and made a tiny wave with the fingers of her right hand. “We be right back.”
He savored the sight of their bodies as they sashayed away from him. Ah, they are going to owe me. If she won’t go out on a date with me, the other one’s got great legs. He
watched
them go around the house they had pointed to and on to the rear of it, then out of sight.
After a sigh, he took a seat without a glance at the carriages.
The
two babies, who had been silent up to this point, used the absence of the women
to pierce the tranquil air with a loud wailing that startled the birds in
nearby trees.
Alex
kicked at one of the carriages and shouted, “Hey, you guys. Cool it. Don’t
worry. When the girls come back, they’ll shove bottles in your mouths.”The crying alternated from one to the other as if they were having a conversation. He didn’t care for kids in the first place and the penetrating sounds of them soon became intolerable. He decided to see if there was a pacifier or some toy in one of the carriages to calm them down and he peered into the near one.
BONK!
He reeled backwards and brought a hand to his head, then looked at it to see if there was any blood. “Jeez,” he said. “What’s in that rattle kid, lead? That hurt.”
The
baby assailant opened his mouth to cry and Alex heard, “This species is
inferior. They are good only for food for our beasts.”
Alex blinked his eyes and made a face. I have to be hallucinating. I could swear that baby is speaking English.
The
infant in the second carriage asked, “Why did you have to hit him with the
translator tool? It was too hard and the blow was in the knowledge area of his
primitive brain. It could have killed him and that would have brought unwanted
scrutiny in our direction.”
“But
it was fun to hit him and besides, I can’t stand these beings. You remember when
that female tried to get me to feed on her fleshy protuberance?”
The
first baby emitted a high-pitched laugh and said, “Yes, but biting it was the
wrong way to get the proper response.”
“Really?”
said baby number two. “Well, she never did that again, did she?”
Alex
could only stare. He understood every word they uttered. It had to be the rattle. The conk on the head somehow allowed me to
understand the crying coming out of their tiny mouths.
The
first baby said, “When the mother ship comes for us at first light, we must
take back a few thousand of these beings. I’m sure our superiors will make
another trip for more of them later on if the beasts thrive on our planet.”
Alex
stepped back and shook his head to clear out cobwebs. I gotta tell somebody and quick. These are a kind of space aliens
somehow designed to look like human babies.
“He
begins to exhibit signs of comprehension,” said the first child. “I’m afraid
the translator tool jarred something. This may be a problem.”
Minutes
later, Alex was flat on his back and looking up from a gurney into the face of
the pretty nanny. He moaned and another face replaced hers. By the cap, he knew
it was that of a police officer. “Sir, are you all right? These two women said
they found you unconscious next to a baby carriage. Are you hurt?”
Alex
shook his head and then remembered the space aliens and their threat to take
humans as animal food to wherever they came from.
Though it sounded far-fetched, he had to tell the police. He was confident his story would be proved if they investigated. He would tell the cops about the rattle and the teething ring.
Though it sounded far-fetched, he had to tell the police. He was confident his story would be proved if they investigated. He would tell the cops about the rattle and the teething ring.
One
of the babies peered down at him from a carriage and said, “Go ahead. Tell them
what you know.” A bubble formed on the little lips as the adorable child
smiled.
The
policeman motioned to the women. He placed a finger to his lips, then pointed
to the babies. “The noise of their crying is interfering with the questions I
have for him. Please get them to quiet down.”
When the crying calmed, the officer leaned down and asked Alex, “If you’re feeling better now, can I ask you what happened here?”
When the crying calmed, the officer leaned down and asked Alex, “If you’re feeling better now, can I ask you what happened here?”
This
was the chance to save mankind and Alex knew he would be looked upon as a great
hero after the alien beings were thwarted in their plan.
He gazed up at the cop
and opened his mouth to speak. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but you
have to arrest the babies,” he said. “They are really space aliens out to
conquer the planet and enslave us all.”
He gazed up at the cop
and opened his mouth to speak. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but you
have to arrest the babies,” he said. “They are really space aliens out to
conquer the planet and enslave us all.”The cop’s features looked pained. “Hey pal, cut out the imitations. Crying like a baby isn’t funny. Just tell us what happened.”
Alex
did try, but all that came out of his mouth was the wailing noise of a baby.
Meanwhile, from the carriages came the cooing sounds of contented infants.
* * *
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
For more than four decades, Bob Clark worked as a personality
in radio and TV, covering more than 25 states and 3 countries, with one of his
many duties being the writing and production of hundreds of thousands of
30-second and one-minute stories that sold the products and services of
advertisers.
As Bob was retiring from that career, and after watching a
particularly bad movie, he decided he could do better and set out to make
writing his new career.
Since then, several of his short stories have been read
aloud in high school competitions; two of his short stories, “Whatever Lulu
Wants” and “A Taste of Death” have been published in Volumes 1 and 2,
respectively, of Open Heart Publishing’s anthology series An Honest Lie;
“The
Price Of Dining Out” and “The Card” have been published in Prose To Be Read
Aloud (2006) by To Be Read Aloud Publishing;
and “Hearts In The Sand” has been
published in the Winter-Spring 2012 Edition of Front Porch Magazine.
If you would
like more information on Bob Clark and his works,, contact us at: sredpfe@yahoo.com.
(PortfoliosExposed holds no rights whatsoever to any and all stories
published within this blog. All authors retain full rights to publish. Please
see contact information above and listed on this blog.)
* * *
* * *
* * *
