Mark McGinnis - The Simpleton

“Put that out! You know there’s no smoking in the house,” Momma scolded.

Kyle shrugged but did as asked. “I went looking for him, but Cuddy’s been wandering around this countryside since he first learned to walk. Could be anywhere.”

“Get out there and look again!” Momma shouted.

Kyle looked up, startled, his eyes shifting between his mother and Jackie. “Fine…” he said.

“No wait,” Momma said, “I see him. And I have a good mind to take a switch to him, damn worrisome child.”

Jackie, the first one out the door, watched Cuddy hurrying. He looked up and smiled. Smiling, ready to wave back, her hand stopped mid-motion as Cuddy drew closer. There was something peculiar about the way he looked, though it could be her imagination.

While Momma stood at the stove, filling each plate with a pork chop, a mound of mashed potatoes, and a scoop of steamed sliced carrots, Jackie carried the plates over and set them around the table. She heard Cuddy, cleaning up in the bathroom. The faucet then turned off and the bathroom door opened. She wondered if Momma too noticed something different about Cuddy.

The screen door opened, then slammed shut as Kyle walked in. “That sky… it’s… crazy weird-looking. The nag is acting skittish, too… something’s got her all riled up.”

Jackie turned around, gazing out the window toward the barn, and caught the last vestiges of dusk before nighttime took hold. The sky was still ablaze with color—with added hues now of sparkling gold and violets.

“She’ll settle down. What she needs is to be let out of that stall tomorrow. You know animals can go stir-crazy too… just like people,” Momma replied, wiping her hands on a dishtowel.

“Claustrophobic.”

At first, Jackie thought it was Kyle who spoke, then realized he was already seated at the table, using a fork prong to clean a fingernail. Curious, she looked at Kyle, then toward the entrance into the hallway. No, it was Cuddy; he’d spoken from the hallway.

Momma said, “That’s disgusting! Stop doing that at the table, Kyle.” He merely shrugged and winked at Jackie.

Jackie looked up as Cuddy entered the kitchen and noticed his face was washed and he was wearing a clean plaid shirt. He then took a chair directly across from her own.

“Hi Jackie,” he said, giving her a broad smile.

“Hi Cuddy… good to see you again. So where did you go off to today?”

“I just goofed around… out in the woods,” he said.

“He’s always in the woods,” Kyle said. “Never understood what’s so fascinating about it.”

Momma, sitting down at Cuddy’s left, took his hand in hers then reached over and took Jackie’s hand, who then took Kyle’s, and he took Cuddy’s—completing the handholding circle.

“You can give thanks to the Lord tonight, Kyle,” Momma told him, though he wasn’t paying attention, staring at his brother instead. Irritated, Momma glanced at Cuddy.

Jackie took it all in. Cuddy’s bowled haircut no longer formed a straight line across his forehead, since he’d moistened it and pushed it off to the side. His multiple injuries—the sutured split lips and cheek, all the bruising—were almost completely healed. How is that possible? Jackie thought back to the day before, seeing him at the hospital, when he looked like he’d been run over by a truck.

“I think I can say Grace tonight,” Cuddy said, looking over to Momma. She hesitantly nodded and said, “Well… okay…”

Cuddy swallowed, and then began, “God, we thank you for this food. For rest and home and all things good. For wind and rain and the sun above. But most of all for those we love.” He smiled—looking pleased with himself. “That’s the prayer Momma almost always says. Before, I never remembered the right words to say… before today.”

Momma stared at Cuddy, speechless for several moments. “That was… beautiful, son. I’m proud of you.” Somewhat unsettled, she reached down for her knife and fork as Kyle did the same, every so often glancing over at his brother.

Jackie knew Cuddy’s face well, but something seemed different … She took in the two-or-three-day stubble on his cheeks and chin, also his open shirt—now unbuttoned at the neck—exposing a few errant chest hairs. From what she could remember, Cuddy always buttoned his shirts up to the neck. Had that habit changed over recent years ? Then she thought back to how he was dressed yesterday. No, he never left buttons unbuttoned. Not thinking some miracle had occurred, nothing like that, but the Cuddy she now sat across from no longer seemed, at least mentally, seven years old.

“I’m beyond starving!” Cuddy said, putting an oversized slice of pork chop into his mouth. As he chewed, he thought about the afternoon he’d spent in the woods, about his promise to the alien man. He really wanted to tell them—Momma, Kyle, and Jackie—all about him. Keeping the secret inside was driving him crazy. He wasn’t upset anymore, and now felt bad about how he’d acted—had overreacted. His brain—his thoughts seemed to have calmed down substantially. Cuddy smiled as he thought about first seeing the white glowing man, standing by the brook, and then his experiences within the… what did he call it? Oh yeah , the wellness chamber. Truth was, they wouldn’t believe him anyway. No way.

Cuddy looked out, over Jackie’s left shoulder, to the darkness beyond, wondering if the alien was still out there—somewhere—right now, maybe watching them eat their dinner?

Cuddy noticed Jackie studying him across the table. Her narrowed eyes were searching his face. He smiled at her, noticing how pretty she was. No, she was beautiful.

“Boy… is everything all right?” Momma asked, her voice almost a whisper.

“I’m good, Momma. Why?” His mouth full of mashed potatoes, he stared back at her, then asked, “Why are you all staring at me that way? Is something on my face?” Setting his fork down, he swiped at his cheeks with his palms.

“There’s nothing on your face, Cuddy,” Jackie said. “You just look very handsome tonight.”

Within the confines of the musky-smelling barn—where it was dark and the big horse repeatedly hoofed at the ground—Tow watched the four humans eat their meal.

Cuddy’s session today, within the wellness chamber, had been brief, but the physical transformation would not go unnoticed by the others. How could it? But Tow was even more concerned with Cuddy’s altered mental state. He didn’t know the human well enough to make a comparison— before, and after , the session. Perhaps the chamber did not affect humans in the same manner.

Tow closely watched their faces, trying to interpret their expressions. He wondered if Cuddy was acting differently now than what was expected? Acknowledging the AI’s voice in his head, he listened to what it had to say:

“Looking at the relevant data, human physiology is quite complex. Their brains are larger than the Pashier’s… much of it still not utilized at this point in their evolution.”

“That sounds encouraging,” Tow said.

“Yes, but you took a risk… taking this one called Cuddy into the wellness chamber. How he will respond, over time, is indeterminate. You are assuming much. Session times… intensity levels… more testing would have been wise.”

“You are right. But there is no more time. The Howsh are here.”

“Their scans may not detect the Evermore ’s whereabouts, at least not for some time,” the AI said.

Strobing blue and red lights were approaching in the near distance—two internal combustion vehicles. Tow watched as first one, then the other, turned into the driveway and headed toward the human’s domicile. After coming to a stop, with the engines turned off, the bright lights continued to flash.