Experimental English

By: Timothy P. Remp
September 9, 2008

“I told you something smelled over here”, said a small voice.

“Is he dead?” asked another.

“Look at the corn, it’s all burnt.”

“But he isn’t. He’s just laying there …all curled up… and naked.”

The huddled man opened his eyes to the quizzical faces of a boy and a girl. The girl wore a calf-length plain-cut dress of solid blue with a white apron and bonnet. The boy was a little taller, holding a hoe, wearing dark pants, a blue collared shirt, and a large brimmed straw hat.

The man sat up slowly. “I won’t hurt you,” he said, speaking in Pennsylvania Dutch, surprising all three. “Who am I?” he asked, holding his head.

The little girl smiled. “I know who you are. You’re English because you’re not Amish.”

“How do you know I’m not Amish?”

“Amish wear clothes, and men don’t have mustaches. Mustaches are prideful,” answered the girl.

English stood up, running his fingers through his thick shoulder length hair then back over his full rough beard. He looked around while trying to cover himself as best he could. The burn spot was a perfect hexagon; beyond that, the remains of a scarecrow and cornstalks. Somewhere nearby, he could smell freshly cut hay, axle grease, and bacon.

English slipped on the pants from the scarecrow. “Is your house close by? Maybe that way,” he said pointing in the direction of the bacon.

The boy turned, “Yes, it’s that way. Our father is there, too. He will know what is best for you. By the way, I’m David and this is my little sister Sarah.”

“What are those markings on you chest around your heart?” asked Sarah. A small circle of strange symbols encircled his heart. Each symbol reached outward with smaller symbols creating a negative version of the sun.

“I don’t know. I can’t read them,” answered English absently sniffing the air.

“There are more in the middle of your back,” stated David as he prodded English forward with the hoe.





#

High above levitated a being within an invisible sphere. Its long grey fingers tapped away on smooth crystal cubes creating a holographic display. It stated: Subject teleported with minimal damage to area. Subject has awakened and made contact with local isolated inhabitants. Current astrological readings indicate nightfall for full lunar refracted sunlight with the capability of triggering genetic alterations in subject. I am continuing my observations.

It floated after the trio.

#

The farmhouse was an old white-washed colonial with a wrap-around farmer’s porch and a huge barn in the backfield. In front of the barn doors, a bearded older man, dressed similar to David, forked fresh hay into the back of a wagon. Two younger men, clean shaven, were helping when English came into view, followed by the children. The scent of axle grease from the wheels came on strongly as English neared. Closer, pungent sweat hung in the area, causing English to wince.

“Father, this is English. Sarah and I found him in the cornfields.”

“We followed the burnt popcorn smell,” said Sarah.

Ignoring Sarah, the father looked over English with a critical eye, then said, “Matthew, Thomas, bring him inside and get him properly dressed. We can not have him running around here like that; it is not decent.”

The two men escorted English into the kitchen, startling their mother and older sister, who wore similar dresses to Sarah’s. A few breakfast dishes lay on the family table. Some leftover toast, eggs and strips of bacon were here and there. English snatched what he could, stuffing his mouth before he was rushed up the backstairs. The father followed, with David and Sarah in tow.

“The children found him in the cornfields, Martha,” said the father, pushing the kids toward the older sister. “Mary, could you walk them to the schoolhouse? Your mother and I need to talk.”

Mary shepherded the children back outside, eager to find out what they knew. The mother returned to scrubbing dishes in soapy water. “I do not like this, Bram,” she said.

“Do not be like that. You know if we see any injustice, we can not turn our backs.”

“What do we know about him? He scavenges like an animal. Did you see those tattoos? Inking our bodies is a sin. You are knowingly letting him into our home, wearing our clothes.”

Before Bram could respond, English stepped into the kitchen wearing black pants and a dark blue shirt. Rolling up his sleeves, he said, “I’m sorry to bring all this grief into your home. I’d like to offer myself as a working hand to repay your kindness.”

“I’m Abraham Amman, and this is my wife Martha. Those two behind you are my oldest boys, Matthew and Thomas. They will take you out to the hay wagon. The three of you can finish filling the back, then move on to the rest of the days chores.”

“Thank you,” said English, snatching the last of the left over bacon as he led the boys outside.

“God bless us all,” whispered Martha to herself.



#

The amplified interior conversation of the dwelling came through clearly within the invisible hovering sphere. On the holographic display, the dwelling was highlighted with infrared heat signatures displaying everyone’s presence. A special notation encircled English’s blur of color. The alien’s two eyes watched the inhabitants move about while its third eye watched another display showing the presence of a transitional metal with the atomic number of forty seven, highly tarnished; it hung on the wall of the main room. The alien tapped away on its cubes creating another observational log: Element detected with properties capable of disrupting the genetic matrix within subject.

#

After dinner, English picked at his teeth while pacing back and forth on the porch. He kept looking over his shoulder at the increasing glow of the rising moon. Abraham came out sipping an herbal tea. “You did a fine job with the chores. My boys were hard pressed to keep up with you, God bless them. They should sleep soundly tonight.”

At the far end of the porch, English stopped and leaned forward on the railing. “Your family has been a godsend to me.” His knuckles turned white from his tightening grip. “I just can’t shake the feeling something is wrong with me, something deep inside. It constantly gnaws at me, no matter what I do.”

“Usually a hard day of work puts things in perspective for a man. How about joining us inside? It is Sarah’s turn to play the piano. Maybe it will help in some small way.”

English could feel the mounting moonlight on his skin. He could feel sweat gathering on his brow and his pulse building. Music also soothes the savage beast he thought strangely and followed Bram in.

The main room was open and simple. A large couch with a knitted throw on the back lay against the far wall with several wooden chairs arranged in a semi-circle before the piano. Sarah smiled to English as he leaned against a wall in the back. David gave him a small wave. After a quick wave back, he looked around again, when unexpectedly, he settled on a large blackened crucifix over the couch.

Abraham noticed. “It has been in my family for generations.”

“It’s quite a piece. What’s it made of?”

“I think silver. I am not sure. I have not touched it since my father placed it on the wall when I was Sarah’s age.”

English felt unnerved by it. He couldn’t decide if it was the idea of religion or the image of a tortured figure unable to control his own fate.

Sarah cleared her throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “Ready?” she asked. She began with a few test notes then moved into a lively tune. The family joined along in singing. The song was unknown to English, but soothing -- at first. However, with each keystroke, he began to breathe heavier, and his eyesight started to tunnel. He struggled to focus on Sarah, until behind her, in the window, the full moon came into view.

English's eyes widened. He fell to the floor on all fours and howled, and then arched back, ripping his shirt off with a snarl. The tattoos on his chest flared blood red. The rest erupted sequentially down his spine. Snapping and reforming bone and muscle dominated the piano’s fading melodies. The family’s screams replaced their sweet song. Abraham seized the wooden chair he was sitting upon, lifted it high, and then slammed it down against the thing's transforming head. The beast staggered, giving Abraham a chance to grab it around the neck, struggling to hold it down. Matthew, gaining courage, jumped on a transforming leg. Thomas followed, grabbing the other, holding on for dear life.

Howling in rage, the newborn werewolf tore Abraham off and tossed him against the couch, missing Mary and Martha. Abraham landed with a crack, sliding down to the floor with his head angled impossibly, his eyes glossed white. The beast grabbed Matthew by the face and Thomas by the neck. Neither could break free. The beast smashed them together and then slammed them through the floorboards.

The beast sniffed the air, sensing something tender and tasty. Its wolfish head swung around, finding Sarah frantically backpedaling into a corner. Drool dripped off its muzzle as it licked its large canines. Sarah screamed. The beast roared back.

Martha screamed, “NO!” with the crucifix in her hands. She swung it like an axe into the side of the were-creature. The silver acted as poison, causing agonizing paralysis. Martha swung again and again with loud wet thwacks.

#

High above the house, the alien studied the unfolded events. The planet’s moonlight caused the transmogrification of the subject as planned. Unfortunately, the subject became lethally susceptible to this material the inhabitants refer to as ‘silver’. Possibly a reaction to the electrons and genetic matrix, noted the alien as it tapped away on its cubic glyphs.

#

Mary crawled on all fours with her head down. She made her way past her father's unmoving legs and her brothers’ broken bodies. She retched as she passed her statuesque mother, swathed in hot blood and clumps of fur. Finally, she reached her destination then sat back on her hunches. In front of her was a newly stoic David cradling Sarah, who was sobbing uncontrollably. Mary wrapped her arms around both of them, joining Sarah's sobbing with her own. Their cries of anguish reached into the night's sky as the sphere streaked away.