Small Town Problems

By Chris Ritchey

Comfortable in his simple rural life, widower Robert Potter never put much stock in Old Jim's moonshine-fueled conspiracy theories. But after he finds Har'elday, the lone survivor of a crashed spaceship, he begins to wonder if the Loch Ness Monster has relocated to Eufaula Lake. Much to Robert's dismay, the wandering eye of the federal government is casting a questioning gaze on his small farm town as well.

Caught between relentless federal agents and the found family harboring him, Har'elday's freedom depends on the ingenuity of his new friends.

A Sci-Fi novella, Small Town Problems is the first book in a duology that explores the impact a lone survivor from an advanced alien civilization can have on a sleepy farm town in the middle of Oklahoma. Robert Potter gifts us with his insights as we traverse this world-shattering event through his eyes.

A close group of friends helps Har'elday adjust to his new life as he finds solace in the comfort of a hard day's work on the farm. But, how long can such peace last?

In what has been called a throwback to the golden age of science fiction, you can expect to find the heartwarming feeling of a found family, the awkwardness of a budding romance, and genuine and funny characters. We also explore the toll of loss and hardships that are compounded by the advances of a threat looming on the horizon.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jester's Library Publishing
• Release date: Sep 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223117292

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Even though his . . . her . . . no, let’s go with its helmet was cracked, the head didn’t explode like the movies predicted.

I carefully removed and set the helmet aside, avoiding the ooze of what I assumed was blood all over my work table. The entire head was covered in dark-brown hair, most of it matted with blood, which made finding the wound impossible. The helmet was made of some sort of crystalline mesh, slightly bumpy and rough, like low-grit sandpaper. I wasn’t sure if it had turned into a spiderweb like a car’s windshield or if it was always like that. I supposed it didn’t matter what you made clear stuff out of; it wasn’t going to stand up to you tripping over your feet and banging it against a rock.

This wasn’t exactly how I’d planned to start my Thursday.

I couldn’t help but think that old coot Jim was right about the lights he’d seen in the sky over the last three months. If he hadn’t gone on to talk about how he’d been abducted and had some rather unchristian things done to him, I might have believed him.

My head involuntarily shook as an odd odor—a mix of bitter almonds and rotten eggs—hit me. The light began to tunnel, and I stumbled back into a chair as the strength left my legs. The smell seemed to dissipate quickly, but I figured I’d play it safe and vacate the premises anyway.

I clambered back to my feet and sought fresh air, leaving the door open. The morning chill hadn’t lifted yet, and as I looked across the yard to the barn, I could still see the morning dew clinging to each blade of grass. I felt like it’d been ages since I’d startled that creature creeping around my barn, but getting up before the rooster left a lot of time for the morning to linger.

I reached for a smoke, hoping it would calm my nerves, but I caught myself and laughed. It’d been two years since Maggie left and asked me to quit that nasty old habit. She’d wanted to tell the Lord she accomplished one good thing on this earth.

I’m sorry, Maggie. I chuckled as I looked up. I kept my promise, but my mind still plays tricks on me from time to time. Can you blame me, though? I gestured toward the workshop. I mean, you’ve seen that thing. I could feel her give me the look as I heard her voice sternly tell me to call Bill. Ever the wise counselor, I chuckled to myself.

Brushing off my boots before entering the main house, I cautiously opened the door and listened for anything out of the ordinary. Despite the upkeep, a house built in the 1930s had plenty of odd noises. The extra sounds didn’t come so much from the original house as they did from the add-ons. Like a patient rejecting an organ donation, it had to have its newer parts replenished from time to time with the blood of new trees and iron. Maggie’s pa used to say that all the good construction workers headed out for World War II and never made it back, and the house suffered for it.

The house seemed to give me the standard dialogue, but just in case, I grabbed my shotgun from the den and headed to the phone in the kitchen.

Sheriff’s office, how can we help you? came the pleasant voice on the other end. Any other person who had been the dispatcher for the past three sheriffs would have been in a prime position to be the town gossip, but not Betsy. She was a steel trap with the sheriff department’s information but an open spigot with her own.

Well hello, Betsy. How’s your girl? I was going to hear about her one way or the other, so I tried to get it out of the way up front.

At least she kept me in practice for halfway listening to a conversation while picking up on the important bits. . . . and she told me it’s too early to really tell anyone, but how can I not be excited! It’s my first grandchild, after all!

Well, that’s great news! How soon until I can call you Grandma?

Robert Steven Potter, I do not appreciate . . .

I pulled the phone away from my ear for a moment until her volume settled back down.

. . . and it’s not like I’m much older than you, so you will never call me that.

You know I’m only teasing you! Give her my best. Now, can you pass me off to Bill ?

After a bit more chastising, she finally relented and got Bill on the line.

Bill, hey, it’s Robert. Would you have time to come to my farm later today?

He groaned before responding. I’ve got a pretty full schedule this morning. Is this personal or as the sheriff?

Oh, it’s no rush, but it’s official business. And could you bring Doc Hutchins with you too?

The phone went silent longer than I expected. Just to be clear, but also in his official capacity? As the coroner?

Yes, that would be what I’m asking.

Robert, I know he’s a pain sometimes, but have you finally shot Bobby for trespassing? I could tell by Bill’s staccato words that he was getting angry with me.

No, I haven’t finally shot him or anyone, I said sternly, But if that kid tips over one of my cows again—

You’re lucky his old man is the forgiving type, or I’d still be hearing about the last time you shot at him.

I was aiming for the tree last time, and everyone knows it! Now look—

Fine, you didn’t shoot someone. His anger eased off, but he was still tense. What are we coming out there to see, then?

Hell if I know.

He sighed. We’ve been getting more complaints about wildlife. Are you sure it’s not an animal? Have you called Julia’s office to ask her about it?

Don’t you think I would have called the vet if it was an animal? He knows I avoid calling the vet, but I would if I had to.

Fine, so you have no clue what it is, only that you’ve got a dead something and it’s somehow not an emergency. I don’t understand why we’re talking. The anger was easing back into his tone.

Look, I just thought you’d be the guy to call on this, okay? I don’t think this will be a waste of your time.

Bill paused and then sighed heavily before letting me know he’d head out soon.

Great. I’ll see you then.

I went back to my morning chores. It would likely take Bill and Doc a while to get here, and I wanted to clear my head with something routine. Let’s see, I muttered to myself, taking a second to retrace my steps. I found that thing right before I got to the chicken coup . . . Lord, I hope the chickens weren’t too spooked to lay.

After feeding the horses, I saw a dust cloud kicking up over the trees that separated my property from the main road. I stood there for a moment before I saw Bill’s car clear the trees and turn down my long drive.

Well, that was a bit sooner than expected. I bet Bill thinks I shot Bobby and I’m asking him to cover it up. I shook my head as I went to meet them.

As they skidded to a halt near my house, I saw one of Bill’s young deputies riding shotgun . . . literally. I put my hands up just in case. Bill and Ryan bolted out of the car while Doc took a leisurely exit. Howdy, Bill. Tell the kid he can leave the gun in the car.

Bill adjusted his hat, which, if the last ten years of poker nights told me anything, signaled that none of this was going to end in my favor. I’d never figured out if the standard-issue sheriff uniforms were short sleeved or if Bill just liked showing off his biceps. Most vets down at the VFW had let themselves go, but Bill said he liked to give his wife some eye candy so she’d put up with his other shenanigans. Where is it, Robert?

Right over there in the workshop. Look, I ain’t got nothing to hide here. Mind the tools—I cleared off the work table in a hurry.

Ryan, scout the interior. Robert, get over there with Doc, Bill ordered, and then looped around the workshop.

I sauntered over to Doc, who had taken up a seat on the hood of the cruiser. Hey, Doc, sorry to get everyone so worked up. Even though I wasn’t aware of any heart issues, Doc was of an age where I was concerned that his health might go awry in stressful situations.

Well, you know how Bill can be. A laugh slipped out. But it’s not like you—

Oh, sweet Jesus! Ryan burst out of the workshop. What the hell is that?

Doc and I watched as Ryan stepped to the side and proceeded to throw up on my marigolds. Bill made his way back to the front as soon as Ryan stopped heaving enough to give Bill an all clear signal. Bill dipped his head through the door and immediately back out.

What, you never seen a dead body before? I laughed. Bill, where did you get this kid? He was a bit lanky, but I’d never been able to tell how fit someone with a swimmer’s body was. Bill had his deputies on a workout routine, so maybe he’d bulk up with a few more months on the job.

Bill shook his head at me. Doc, it’s all clear. But you’ll need a mask or something for the smell. It’s tough to say, but I think Robert spilled some cyanide and sulfur in there.

No, that came out when I took the helmet off.

Doc shot me a quizzical glance, but I just motioned for him to proceed.

It’ll make sense shortly.

Ryan composed himself and took a seat on the cruiser’s hood. We waited in silence for the next twenty minutes as Doc examined the body. When Doc finally came out, he looked even worse for wear.

Robert, I don’t know what you expected. I’m a coroner, not a xenobiologist. He wiped his forehead with a handkerchief.

I tried to lighten the mood. Don’t they have night classes at the community center for that?

Doc didn’t even crack a smile, just looked at me solemnly. I don’t know who you need to call, but this is out of my depth.

I turned to Bill. You’re the sheriff around here, so I’ll trust your judgment.

They huddled together for a few minutes, then Bill came over to me. This can be a delicate situation. We don’t want to cause any panic, so keep quiet about this until you hear something from me.

I nodded.

They packed the remains into one of Doc’s body bags, loaded the bag into the car, and headed back to town.

As they drove away, I realized I wasn’t exactly sure what to do next. I knew I should feel a weight lifted off of me, but my shoulders felt tenser than an armadillo crossing a highway. I went back to the shop, opened a window on the north side, and kicked on the ventilation fan. I had trusted Bill ever since we were kids, but I couldn’t help but think something was off. I knew he’d seen some stuff, but I couldn’t imagine anyone could be so calm and collected after seeing evidence of extraterrestrial life for the first time.

Maybe I should pay him a visit after hours today and see if I can find out more?

I found my mind drifting to what would get the bloodstain out of the table. I had no idea how alien blood would react to the traditional methods. My family had rebuilt the shop after the winter of 1987, but the bones had been around since the 1940s. I doubt she’s seen anything close to this odd in her life.

My stupor was interrupted by the faint sound of my phone ringing from the house.

Winded, I got there just before the machine picked up. Hello? I stretched the cord as I grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the sink.

Mr. Potter, this is Kevin Jenkins. I was driving along the back road and came across a couple of your cows outside a broken section of fencing.

Really? Is it only the two of them that got out? Those girls knew well enough to stay in the pasture.

I think so. He hesitantly offered, It looks like the others are still in your pasture.

All right, can you keep an eye on them until I get the trailer out there? Shouldn’t be but fifteen minutes.

He promised to oblige.

Aliens and now escaped cows—what a day. I downed my glass and headed back out.

I hooked the trailer up to the truck and met the Jenkins boy on the back road. The old dirt road was an easy way to get to the back side of a few properties and for the most part separated the farmland from the forest.

He waved at me as I parked. Hey, Mr. Potter. Need help loading ’em up? He was a good kid, always willing to lend a hand. That kind of character was going to get him far in life.

I sent him after Lucy while I rounded up Mildred, and we