We only heard it, at first, a sort of whistle, broken and thin. Then Ally pointed it out, added, “Make a wish,” even. When it kept falling, we kind of figured it wasn’t a shooting star, though, mostly on account of how they burn up after a minute. This one just got brighter and brighter, and then it hit. It hit so close that it knocked all four of us over, the shockwave or whatever, and it was all hot and dark for a while, ringing. It was me, Ally, and Bug that got up, after. Cassie was bleeding where she fell, her head nice and busted on the rock, there.

Bug started freaking out, but me and Ally just sort of walked on. I think Ally might’ve said something like, “You got that, June-Bug?” but neither of us cared, I guess.

The crater was as wide as the new Taco Bell up on West Camel, parking lot and all, but not so deep as all that. It was real hot, even from the lip, kind of glowing. Ally went like she was going down in there, but I grabbed her arm and said, “Hold up.”

She pulled away. “Fuck off,” she said, “I told you not to touch me anymore, Beck.”

So I fucked off, and she went in. I figured the vapors or smoke or heat would kill her, and I sort of hoped they would. Who says that sort of shit when someone’s trying to help? But she lived, made it all the way to the glow, already dimming by then, and yelled back that it was a Volkswagen or something.

“A what?”

“A Volkswagen.”

Bug came over our way and yelled something about Cassie being real fucked up or something, about needing help to get her back to the car.

“It’s a Volkswagen,” I yelled back at her.

“Help me,” was her reply.

“Yeah,” I said. “Just a minute,” and then I was in there, huffing the vapors and getting a look of my own. Sure as shit, there it was. “How the fuck?” I said.

Ally snorted and said “I know, right?” her hands turning out for emphasis.

I asked if there was an airplane or something, but she was all, “Naw,” and, “No way it would’a caught fire like that just falling from an airplane.” So I said, “Space?” and she just kind of looked up there and nodded.

There was a blinking light above us, way out in the darker than dark, red and slow. It was as clear a night as any, but there was no telling how far away it was. Still, it looked too steady to be an airplane, too far away, too.

“Maybe it’s a satellite,” said Ally.

“Yeah,” I said. “Maybe.”

“Guys,” said Bug from beyond the rim of the crater. “Hurry, we need—”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I yelled back, “I said gimme a goddamn second. There’s a fucking Volkswagen down here and it came from fucking space.”

“Cassie’s fucking dying!”

“I don’t fucking care.”

Maybe she cried when she ran off, but I don’t think so. It was quiet up there, was all I knew. There was only the sound of the metal warping with the temperature shift, the melting and burning, the wind. Everything was blown and charred, more than a word like smashed could manage, but there was just enough to make things out—the emblem, for one. Among the bits and parts, the smoking rubber, there was enough to know it, a thing so knowable. The glow was still bright enough, alongside the moon, to make out the scene. There was a shape there in the mess, parts of shapes suggesting some whole, maybe a body—maybe.

“That was too much,” said Ally.

I kept quiet.

“What if she dies?”

“Then she was a cunt, anyhow.”

Ally made like she was going off to help Cassie, but got lost in another long stare at the wreckage. “How do you think?” she said.

I had a theory forming, too small for words. “Dunno,” I said.

“Sorry for what I said,” she said, eyes on the bits before us. “It’s just soon, you know.”

I didn’t say anything. The heat on my ankles was nice, weird. The crystal had shattered on the blackened watch near my shoe, but there was no mistaking it for anything but a watch. The ash around it was probably the wrist—no telling, really.

Ally kicked the door handle beside her foot and said, “We gotta go,” the spell broken.

“Go ahead,” I said.

“We’ll hafta take the car.”

“Just come back later.”

She sort of sighed or something.

“Or don’t,” I said. “Just go, already.”

If someone came along and filled the crater with water, I figured—the others gone off someplace else, nothing but the clear sky and the motion of the planet to make a sound—maybe some fish would come. That’d be two miracles, enough to start a chain. The ground was still hot when I sat. My head was light. The soles of my shoes were soft. The light was fading.

I stared. I stared and stared, and when I’d stared long enough I spotted the teeth, one of them gold, and followed them out to most of a burned-clean jaw. It was just a few feet away, conversation distance, you know?

“What were you thinking?” I said.

It kept its secrets.

“If this was the ocean,” I said, “nobody’d know shit about this, about you and all.”

Its grin was fixed, but it seemed right enough.

“Yeah,” I said. “You’re probably right.”

Timestamp: 06.25.08 at 07:27 AM. Filed under: Fiction.