Cygnus Loop

             The Monday morning rain pounded the small school along Riverside Drive. Children and teachers ran frantically from parked cars. Horns blasted, and headlights winked through waves of water.

            Allison Peters hated arriving late. But she had recently moved from her old bachelor pad in anticipation of her boyfriend’s arrival. This new place lengthened her commute.  

            Allison waited by the door of her third-grade classroom with her hand over her heart, blonde hair plastered against her face, makeup running down her cheeks. A puddle of water formed around her feet as her students saluted the flag under the leadership of Vice Principal, Brett Castille.  

Physically, she found Brett attractive. If only he wasn’t so obnoxious. There he goes again, looking me over like a barfly scanning a potential night’s catch.  

            As the children sat in their seats, she whispered in his ear over the scraping noises. “Mind if I change?”

            “No problem. Just make it fast.”

            As she walked past the principal’s office, she got nailed. “Miss Peters, I want to speak to you now. In my office.”

            She walked slowly by the secretary’s desk, forced a smile at the middle-aged woman, and entered Dr. Judd’s office. The door’s tight spring closed firmly behind her. Thud!  

            Nanette Judd was an older woman, thin like a scarecrow with brittle gray hair and skin as transparent as wax paper. On her huge desk sat a crystal paperweight and a picture of a super nova. Allison smiled in sweet recognition at the photo. She relaxed and plopped in a leather-padded chair across from her boss. The desk dwarfed the frail woman, but her demeanor was anything but feeble. Her blue eyes reached inside Miss Peter’s brown ones like a telepath reading her victim’s mind.          

            “Allison, you were late today. Didn’t I tell you not to move out of town?”

             “Yes, Yal… ah, Dr. Judd.”

            Dr. Judd looked at her crossly and said, “So why did you?”

            “I want to make a nice home for Cami when he arrives.”

            “I’m looking forward to his arrival too. We could use his help around here. But you’re both better off living in Sherman Oaks. We’re a community, you know.”

            “Yes, ma’am.”

            “You better not be late again. Not unless you’d rather go home and turn over your cubicle to someone else.” She surveyed the woman from head to toe.   

            Dr. Judd pointed a bony finger at her and continued, “There’s a waiting list you know.”

            “Yes.”

            With a crooked smile, Dr. Judd pushed her long gray hair behind her ear and said, “Now go ahead and freshen up. We don’t want to ruin that pretty face.”

            “No, we wouldn’t.”

            As Allison pulled open the door, Dr. Judd said, “I’ll be taking over your class at 1:00. Make sure Castille shows up on time.”

            The first smile of the day erupted on the blonde’s face. “Yes ma’am!”

            When she returned to class, her students were solving math problems from their textbooks. In the corner, Mr. Castille tutored multiplication tables to a small group of children. 

            She whispered, “Can we talk?”

            “During recess.”  

            She looked at the clock, and nodded.

            An hour later an aide took over her third-grade class to escort children to the restroom. Allison descended the steps and around the bend to the VP office.

            Brett’s office used to be a storage closet. The VP sat squeezed behind an old brown desk in a chair that creaked with every move.  

            “She’s such a bitch,” Allison screeched.

            “Quiet! Or we’ll both be on the street. And in this rain, it’s not such a good idea.”

            “She said I had no business moving into my new apartment. Said I was better off living in Sherman Oaks. She even docked me twelve minutes sick leave for being late.”

            “Typical.”  Brett leaned against his seat and stroked his goatee. “I’ll see what I can do. But don’t expect much. She’s within her rights to dock you. As to the housing comment, it’s your word against hers. She’ll deny it in a committee review.”

            Allison blew out some air, like a weight lifter trying to heft more pounds than she could press. She stomped to the door, and asked, “Could we do lunch?”

            “Sure.”    

***

            This wasn’t the first complaint against Dr. Judd since he started this job over a year ago. An obvious laundry list of problems existed. Few teachers liked when Judd took over their classes. She was rude. She was autocratic, and thought the school was her private property.

            Fifth grade teacher, Sue Kaplan complained about the principal his first day as VP. They stood at the back of the Fire Department assembly when Ms Kaplan said, “Dr. Judd took over my class today. I hate when she does that.” 

             “Most teachers are delighted to have time to plan lessons, relax, or make needed phone calls. What’s the problem?”

            “At first I thought it great. But when I returned to class, thirty-two frightened ten-year-olds sat numbly.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Travis, Shelly, Jason, and the entire Pain-In-the-Ass lineup. You know, all my PIA’s. They were sitting at their seats with glassy eyes. It was actually a pleasure to see this. But my GATE kids were crying hysterically. My brightest students were mush. Jan, my spelling whiz kid, stood over my desk puking her guts out. And the rest wandered around the room aimlessly. At the end of the day, I confronted Judd.”

            “What did you say?” Brett asked.

            “I thought I’d start with the positive. So, I asked, ‘How did you get my lows to be so quiet?’ You know what she said?”

            Bret’s eyebrows rose and his brow creased.

            “She told them a spooky story.”

            Brett snickered. “What did the kids say?” 

            “First, I took the class outside for a break. When they settled down and were ready to talk, no one volunteered information.”

            “Did you speak to any of the kids privately?” 

            “Sure. I asked Jan how she felt. And she told me she was fine. She gave me one of those kid looks that says ‘Why are you even asking?’ I don’t think she remembered anything.”

            A few months later Sue Kaplan got the transfer she’d been waiting for. 

            Brett didn’t like working for Judd, either. But the superintendent promised him a principalship at Hearst if he made it through two years.  Everyone knew his position at Riverside was a steppingstone for administrative advancement. And Hearst School was the best in the district. Its parents were highly educated, wealthy, and the kids were motivated to learn, a big contrast to his school. Riverside was in the south end of town where the average family earned less than $30,000 per year. Its families had many socio-economic hardships.

*     *     *

Brett had a memory like the hard drive of a computer, at least for most things. He recalled seeing Dr. Judd for the first time when he turned eleven. It was the fall of 1976. 

            That year was America’s bicentennial celebration. Brett had recently returned from a trip to New York City with his parents. He talked about his adventures as he and best friend, Vic, walked home from school.  

“How was New York?” Vic asked.

            Brett said, “Fourth of July fireworks lit the sky. They set them off near the Statue of Liberty. It was amazing. And the parade of tall ships along the Hudson River was so cool.” 

            “What did you do?” Brett asked.

            “Nothing except spy on that witch at the edge of town.”

            “You still doing that?”

            “Nothing better to do. And now she’s up to something really weird.”

            “What’s that?” 

            “You’ll have to see it for yourself.”

            It was a warm Friday afternoon in late September. First thing after school they went to Vic’s house, grabbed two pairs of binoculars, and headed west on Riverside Drive. At the edge of town lay an acre of land overrun by weeds, tall grass, and a few trees. The boys crawled through the high grass, commando style, until they reached the safety of an old apple tree a hundred yards from the front porch. They climbed the tree until they found comfortable perches to view their subject.

            Nanette Judd sat on an old green plastic chair, back facing the door, with a piece of lumber on her lap. On the wood two snails were assembled. Judd placed the snails behind a black line on the board; a red line was painted a foot away. Beyond that she placed lettuce. The snails pushed themselves to get to the finish line. Brett was surprised snails moved that fast. He made a mental note to try this when he got home. After a few tense minutes, the snail on the outside of the board crossed the red finish line and commenced eating the lettuce. Judd snatched the snail from his meal, and without expression on her face, kissed it. 

             “Ugh!” 

            “Shh!” Vic whispered.  

            The middle-aged recluse took the loser, threw it on the floor, and squashed it with her left foot. She picked a new snail from the box near her right foot and placed it on the board. The new race between the previous winner and the fresh snail commenced.

            Brett saw an orange light flicker in the hallway, like a blinking light for a hard of hearing person when the phone rang. But the phone didn’t ring. Only sounds from rustling trees in the warm autumn wind tickled his ear. 

            Though Judd was fixated on the race, she sensed something. With a blank face, like a zombie, Judd rose. Blue lines circled the pale white skin around her eyes.

            Judd disappeared for only a minute. When she returned outdoors, a new awareness brightened her face, as if she’d discovered something unique. Judd walked past the snail racetrack, looked over the yard, gazed at the cloudless sky, and opened her arms wide and took in a deep breath of air.

            When she lowered her gaze, her eyes met his, like two blue lasers piercing his mind. It was also the last thing Brett recalled. 

* * *

Over the years, Brett had nightmares about that blackout. It was like being in a fog, so thick he dreaded taking even a short step for fear of falling off a cliff. 

            He shook his head trying to shake off the bad dream. That was twenty-seven years ago. What amazed him, even as an eleven-year-old, was this seemingly uneducated hermit had a Ph.D. in education. A week after spying on her in the apple tree, she replaced Mr. Ghazarian as principal, and Mr. G was promoted to assistant superintendent. He also recalled his friendship with Vic soured. He shrugged his shoulders. Maybe Vic didn’t like the snail game.  

            Brett was curious about Allison’s complaint. A few other teachers at Riverside Drive Elementary whined about Judd, but their complaints were similar to Sue Kaplan’s. Allison was different. She didn’t mind. 

            He decided he’d talk to Allison about this during lunch.

            Dr. Judd sat at a table across the room with a small group of teachers, teachers who actually liked her. Go figure.  

Allison was sitting alone when Brett tossed his lunch sack on the table across from her. She didn’t say hello. She tilted her head in Judd’s direction. 

“Look at that stringy hair. I suggested Tony’s Salon in Studio City. Tony can make anyone’s hair look good. But she won’t listen. And those clothes… She dresses like an old lady.”  

             “She is an old lady. She was fifty when she started here. She must be seventy-seven.”

            “She could at least put on some makeup and wear some decent shoes. Those black clogs are so tacky.”

            Brett took a deep breath, noting Allison’s voluptuous figure and full lips. In the past she had refused his offers of a dinner date. Her excuse, “My boyfriend Cami will be here soon.”

            Whoever this Cami person was, he sure envied him. But he had other things to discuss. “Allison, has Judd ever taken over your class?”

            “Sure, plenty of times.”

            “Doesn’t that bother you?”

            “Why should it? I get time off to freshen up, grade papers, and plan lessons. I think Judd’s great about that.” She smiled with a slight hint of a question on her brow.

            “When’s she planning to visit your room again?”

            “It’s routine. Today’s Wednesday, she’ll arrive at 1:00.”

            That’s all he needed to hear. Maybe now he’d uncover the connection between Judd and Allison.

            Brett entered the rear door to Allison’s room. Judd’s back faced the door. She was in deep concentration with 20 very quiet eight-year-olds.  This was a class of low achievers. Their IQ’s hovered in the 50’s. Brett was amazed Judd permitted this class to exist, and an inexperienced teacher taught it.  

            From nothingness came specks of light. An array of twinkling stars, each a different shade of orange came into view. Like snowflakes, no two were the same. They hovered over the heads of each student. As quickly as they appeared, they were gone.  The kids opened their eyes. “WOW!” 

            One child said, “Wasn’t that cool?”

            “Yeah,” said another. “First the darkness, then nothingness.”

            “Like we stopped existing,” said a third.  

A continuous indiscernible chatter surrounded Brett as a familiar fog washed over him. A force pushed him. And he feared a bottomless pit a step away. Then, everything went blank.  

            The next thing he recalled was being revived in his swivel chair behind his office desk, his vision blurry, as if severely near sighted. As he regained control of his faculties, objects in front of him coalesced into meaning. Before him hovered Allison’s pear-shaped face framed by her winsome blonde hair.  

            “Are you okay? Do you always fall asleep in class?” She laughed at her own joke.

            “I was standing. And the next thing I knew, I’m looking at you. What happened?”

            “Beats me. I’d love to talk this over with you, but Judd is waiting for me to take back my class. She’s one person I hate to keep waiting. By the way, she wants to see you in her office after school.”

            Good, now I can get to the bottom of this before the day is done.

            At 3:30, when the kids were dismissed, the secretary read her boss’ prepared speech over the public address system. “Dr. Judd wants the building vacated by 4:00. The rain has caused flooding and she wants you all to get to your homes safely before rush hour.”

            Brett walked the short distance to the school office in time to watch the secretary pull the aluminum door to the reception window and bolt it. She grabbed her large purse, and whisked past him.

            Brett caught his principal peering out the window, at a storm that didn’t want to quit. Somehow, she sensed his presence and said, “It’s actually a beautiful day. So much life! So much green. You’re so lucky.”

            “Nanette, I want to talk to you about something personal.” Her desk was immaculate. Doesn’t she have work to do? Only the crystal paperweight and a picture taken from the Hubble Telescope held any space.  

            Underneath the picture was the caption, “Cygnus Loop—Blast Wave from a Stellar Time-Bomb. High speed gas from a supernova explosion slams into dark cooler clouds of interstellar material.”  The gases were shocked and heated by a tidal wave of energy, the clouds glowing in bright, neon-like colors.  

            “It’s not Nanette, “she said. She faced him behind the expanse of her desk and noticed him reading the blurb.

            “I’m sorry, Dr. Judd. I didn’t mean to be presumptuous.“ He’d used her first name on other occasions when they were alone. Her objection surprised him. 

            “It’s not that.”

            His eyes narrowed.

            “My name is Yalma Nakava.” She pointed toward the chair across from her desk.

            She’s really flipped. I’ll play along with her until I uncover what she’s doing with those kids. Maybe she’ll tell me what happened while I was unconscious.        

“I’m an entrepreneur from Tau Ceti 5.” She leaned over to the picture on her desk and pointed to an orange star lighting up a region of space near the Cygnus Loop.  

“With a group of investors, we opened an amusement park on our moon. Unlike yours, Stam has an atmosphere and a tropical climate.  Thirty years ago, land was available for purchase, but the terrain was rough and uninhabitable. We decided to build an amusement park. It was successful, but our people wanted more.

            “Miraculously, one of our scientists found a way to harness the energy from this supernova.” She pointed to the picture on her desk. “And use it as a means to transport his essence over thousands of light years. We constructed twenty capsules in which visitors fit comfortably for a short period of time to experience intergalactic travel.”

            Brett leaned forward in his seat, eyes bulging and jaw gaping. “Those lights I saw in Allison’s room. Are you telling me those were… aliens?”

            “To you, maybe. To me they’re clients. You see Brett, business is booming. We need to build more cubicles to meet demand. And we need more bodies to borrow to meet demand. That means another administrator to guide our visitors. So, within a week’s time…”

            “Wait a second. Are you telling me you’re from another planet?”

            “Nanette Judd is from Earth. The intellect known as Yalma Nakava is from Tau Ceti 5. My mind has taken over her body. My body is in a cubicle twelve light years from your sun.”

            “Doesn’t she mind?” Brett asked trying to humor her.

            “Being so mentally deranged, it was easy to push her mind to the enlarged brain ventricles of a schizophrenic.”

            Brett nodded. “Why are you here at an elementary school?”

            “When visitors come to our theme park, they want to try the Cygnus Loop experience. So, we built more cubicles to protect their bodies.  When one of our principals has a classroom of children prepared, the transference can be made.”

            “How long does that last?”

            “Since we have a waiting list, no longer than an hour.”

            “What happens to the children?” Brett asked.

            “Nothing. They usually forget. Some of the older ones get sick. That’s why we try to target children less than ten years old.”

            “Forget?  Do you mean…blackout?”

             “Just like you, Brett. We seized your mind when you were eleven. You’ve been a tough brain to raid, but one of our people has calculated a way to push your consciousness aside for him to take over your body. That’s why you’ve been promoted to the Hearst School principal job.”            

            Maybe now she’s coming to her senses. This was sudden, but expected. Brett contemplated what his promotion meant. New responsibilities, a comfortable office, and some of the foxiest single women in the district. Hearst was a dream come true.

            Dr. Judd closed her eyes and went into a meditative trance. Her eyelids fluttered until the office glowed with an orange light. Brett bolted from his seat and to the office door. Then, an orange star hovered over his head and disappeared.  

            Brett stood at a precipice, but this time a scaly hand with long sharp nails plunged from the fog and pushed him. With arms flailing and legs twisting, Brett’s mind fell into an abyss.   

            The next day was a sunny unseasonably warm day. Brett Castille opened the door of his silver Honda, stretched his arms, swallowed a deep breath of air, and happily strolled to his office closet.

            He was excited about the principalship. First, he needed to clean the messy desk and sloppy files. As he hunched over a file cabinet, his door clicked. The window rattled when the door smacked against the wall.  

            “Cami?  Cami is that you?”  Allison Parks ran into Brett’s arms. She stroked his newly shaven face, saw that special gleam in his eye, and rewarded him with a deep passionate kiss. 

Michael Thal is the author of The Abduction of Joshua Bloom, a sci-fi abduction story.