name="Last Try" by A. R. Gregory

Last Try

Washington in August!Could things get any stickier? Ellie blew through her pursed lips. She even flapped her arms, anything to beat the heat. She almost even pronounced the word damn in her mind. Naturally the bureau chief would assign her, the station’s only evangelical Christian, to cover the Blessing of America Rally.

“Dear Lord, just a breeze,” she whispered as a trickle of perspiration inched down her ribs. She fingered the little gold cross clinging to the moist skin beneath her throat, thanked God for giving her the sense to wear her lightest sleeveless blouse today.

She scanned the crowd of dripping, sunburned evangelicals again. Who to interview next? According to the Park Police estimate, the throng was over a million strong, everyone listening to one preacher after another bellow from the steps of the Capitol.
Then a gasp rolled across the crowd. Ellie swung, saw everyone staring and pointing in the direction of the Washington Monument. Then she spotted it too, something falling from the sky. No, wait, now it slowed, then it hovered in midair for several seconds before it gently settled down on the National Mall near the Monument. It looked like a huge gleaming ball resting on a glowing donut.

She caught her breath, shouted into her mic, “Nick, are you seeing this? Suck in the antennas. We gotta get to it, now!“

Nick’s voice boomed back from her earphone. “Get to what, Ellie? We don’t even know what that thing is.”

She fought her way through the crowd. “It looks like a UFO. It landed at the Washington Monument!”

“Yeah, I see it, but… We don’t… Who knows what that thing is, what it might do?”

“Watch out,” Ellie yelled, nearly running into a woman pushing a stroller. “Nick, look, this is why we’re here today. It’s God’s will. I know it.”

“But…”

“I don’t care who or what pops out of that thing. We gotta get to it first.”
Nick exhaled tiredly. “Okay then. You’re right. We’re the news. If it’s up to no good, it’ll probably roast the whole city anyway. Let’s do this thing.”

“Attaboy, Nick!”

Sprinting barefoot across the Mall, her high-heeled sandals in one hand, her wireless mic in the other, Ellie saw the Planet Central News truck’s antenna boom lowering, then the satellite dish tucking in. When she got closer, she heard the truck’s engine rev. Gusts of blue exhaust burped from its tailpipe. She halted behind it, choking on the stinky diesel fumes as she waved her cameraman on.

Larry was panting and sweating like a pig, trotting as fast as he could as he lugged his equipment twenty yards behind her. Ellie was tempted to yell, Get the lard out. But she settled on, “C’mon, Larry, move it.” Wasn’t he always supposed to be on some new diet? She pushed him into the truck, then scrambled in herself. Nick gunned it.

They barreled west on Constitution Avenue, Nick riding the horn as Ellie leaned out the passenger side window. “Outta the way. Move it,” she screamed at every startled, jay-walking pedestrian they nearly hit.

At the Washington Monument Nick jumped the curb and sped across the lawn. He jerked the truck to a stop about fifty yards from whatever it was. “Close as I get,” he said, sounding and looking nervous.

“Close enough,” Ellie answered as she gaped up at the great shiny ball. It looked as big as a house — a huge house! Way bigger than the two-story house she grew up in in Iowa.

“What’s it made of?” Nick wondered out loud. “Look how it glows or gleams or whatever. Is it metal, plastic, glass, what?”

Ellie glanced at him.“Who cares what it’s made of? What is it? What should I call it?”
Nick threw up his hands. “Jeezus, how the hell do I know?”

“No need to swear, Nick, even now.”

He rolled his eyes. “I dunno, a goddamned… Sorry, I mean, like maybe some kinda — spaceship? It was flying, right, but no wings. What else could it be?”

“Spaceship. Sure, why not? Hurry, Nick, get us ready to broadcast.” She paused, closed her eyes, bowed her head. “In thy name, Lord Jesus,” she finally whispered just before flinging open the door.