by Effie Burton
Dedication
To everyone who encouraged me to continue when other projects seemed to get in the way. A special thanks to my best critic Cheryl Connors.
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
This is an amateur publication intended solely for the entertainment of its readers. It is not intended to infringe on the rights held by ABC, Columbia Pictures, Henerson & Hirsch Productions, or anyone else.
CHAPTER 1
"Forrester, get in here!" Otto Keller's voice boomed from the intercom. Paul made his way between the people and desks which cluttered the newsroom and wondered what type of assignment this would be. The editor's office was an enclosed room filling one corner of the newsroom. It had glass windows on two sides, but Keller kept the shades pulled. As Paul closed the door, he saw Ellin Jensen seated in front of the editor's desk.
"Paul, you and Jensen are going to cover the demonstration at McKinley School. Be sure to get plenty of pictures of the demonstrators and the spectators. The public is angry and we want to show that." Otto Keller removed the ever present cigar from his mouth and shook it for emphasis. "This story will sell papers!"
Ellin Jensen looked up at her boss, "But Mr. Keller, there's more to this than just the demonstration. We should publish the facts and talk to the family."
"Mrs. Jensen, we're in business to sell papers, not to be teachers. If people want facts, let 'em go to a library. Now both of you get out of here." Otto Keller pointed the cigar towards Ellin and shook it several more times before he clamped it between his teeth and stared. Keller's rotund body continued to shake where it spilled over the sides of his chair as his face became as red as a beet.
It was obvious the matter was closed. Ellin and Paul exchanged a look of resignation as they left the office.
o O o
Clark Cummings stared at the files. Time was passing and he had to have a story submitted by 5 P.M. Keller had warned if he missed another deadline he would be fired. There just had to be something in this accumulation to spark an idea. As he searched and rejected ideas, C.C. reflected upon the type of story this rag published. The truth wasn't important, just make the story sensational and sell papers. How had he sunk so low? As a young reporter his standards had been higher. Was integrity no longer important?
C.C. thumbed through the files of past stories. Here was one about a two headed boy found in the jungles of Brazil. The story about the woman who had given birth to a chimp had caused quite a stir. The next one was about an alien from space who had kidnapped a woman from Wisconsin and forced her to drive to Arizona. The piece was fifteen years old, but space alien stories always seemed to capture the public's imagination. C.C. even seemed to remember this story being covered by the legitimate press.
An idea began to form. If he combined the alien kidnap story with the cross species birth of the chimp he could create a story about a woman giving birth to a half alien/half human boy. To add realism he would refer back to the incident fifteen years ago and to add immediacy he would say he was in contact with the alien father. The alien had returned to earth and was looking for the mother of his son. He wanted to reunite his family and live a normal life. C.C. smiled as he knew he would meet another deadline. He began to type feverishly, as the fabrication of the story began.
o O o
As Ellin stopped the car across the street from the grade school Paul saw two groups of people in front of the building. About fifty were carrying signs and walking in a circle in front the school doors. Another hundred or so were standing in a group watching and shouting encouragement to the demonstrators.
"Why are all these people here?" Paul asked.
Ellin looked at Paul before responding. "They don't want Timmy Drake in their school."
"Why?"
"He tests HIV positive."
"What's that?"
"They're afraid he'll infect their children with the AIDS virus."
"Oh, AIDS, I've heard of that. There are always announcements on TV about it. Isn't it hard to catch?"
"That's what the experts say, but people are still afraid. They just don't believe everything they hear."
"Why? If the doctors have done tests and experiments, why don't these people believe them?"
"Most people fear the unknown. If something is different or unusual it's frightening."
Paul looked at Ellin. Although he'd slightly raised one eyebrow, his face didn't reflect what he was thinking. Paul had experienced the fear reaction from some humans. They misunderstood and feared him because he was different.
Ellin misinterpreted Paul's expression. "You don't believe that? Many people don't trust the government testing procedures."
"Why? If the government does tests aren't they accurate?"
"Not always. In recent years there have been several instances where government tests have been proven wrong. DDT was used for years before being banned as a dangerous chemical. Many other chemicals are also being questioned. The testing procedures aren't foolproof."
"But hasn't there been more testing done with the AIDS virus because of the lessons learned from past mistakes?"
"Yes, and the procedures are much more sophisticated, but people still have many fears." When Paul didn't react, Ellin continued, "For example, even though we know there's no life on other planets, many people have a fear visitors from space would be terrible monsters. Most people fear the arrival of such visitors. It's an unknown beyond anyone's experience. How do you think you'd react if confronted by little green men from Mars?"
"I, huh, well...." Paul was so surprised by the question he was unable to respond and his face registered shock.
"You see, even you're dumbstruck by that thought. Fear is a part of human nature."
Paul was glad to see movement across the lawn. This conversation was getting into areas he'd rather not discuss. Mrs. Drake and her son had emerged from the large double doors in front of the school. Timmy was holding mother's hand tightly and had buried his face into the skirt of her dress. The child was obviously very afraid and Paul felt a deep sympathy for the boy.
"Let's go Paul. You're supposed to be getting pictures of this."
Paul watched as Ellin hurried away from the car at a pace which denied her fifty-plus years. She was tall, slender and had streaks of gray in her short black hair. He wondered why Ellin, an intelligent and caring woman, worked for a sleazy tabloid. Paul had to take work where he could find it, but Ellin should be able to get a job anywhere. Why did she stay and take abuse from Keller?
As Paul neared the milling crowd on the lawn he could tell these people were filled with fear and hatred. Keller wanted pictures of the demonstrators but Paul was drawn to the child.
"Stay away! Leave us alone!" Mrs. Drake pulled Timmy to her as Paul came closer.
Paul spoke very quietly. "Don't be afraid. I mean you no harm. I won't take your picture if you don't want me to, but I think it's important for people to see Timmy is a normal child." Paul was standing directly in front of Mrs. Drake. He put his hand on Timmy's small blond head. "Your son has more to fear from these people than they have to fear from him. He will not harm them, but they can destroy Timmy."
Paul took Timmy's free hand and knelt in front of the small child. He looked deeply into the child's wide blue eyes and said, "Hi, my name is Paul."
Alice Drake felt her son relax as his grip loosened and he began to smile. She looked down at her son and this stranger in wonder.
"I'm Timmy."
"Hello Timmy. Would it be OK with you if I took your picture?" The pictures of the boy were important and Paul knew it, even if Otto Keller wouldn't agree.
"Sure. I like pictures." Timmy looked up at his mother. "Please let him take my picture, Mommy. He's nice."
Alice Drake was puzzled because newspaper people weren't usually so kind, but this man seemed, well, gentle. Alice nodded. She watched as Paul took several pictures of Timmy while kneeling at eye level with the child.
As Paul stood, Alice said, "I don't know what you did, but Timmy hasn't smiled in weeks. This conflict is so hard on him. He just wants to start the second grade next year with his class."
"Timmy and I understand each other. We ..."
"There you are, Paul." Ellin Jensen was walking towards the trio. "I've taken statements from several people. You go get pictures of the demonstrators and the signs. I need to talk to Mrs. Drake."
Paul shook hands with Alice Drake and waved at Timmy before heading toward the angry, milling crowd massed on the lawn in front of the school building.
o O o
Otto Keller was almost shouting as he said, "C.C. where'd you come up with such a hair-brained idea? You're really scraping the bottom of the barrel this time". Keller was constantly amazed at the stories Cummings wrote. C.C. had started work for the World Enquirer right after it had been turned into a tabloid. He always seemed able to come up with ideas to create sensational headlines. Keller looked at the small man seated in front of him and noticed how he appeared to be swallowed by the chair. C.C. looked older than his forty years because of his bald head and wrinkled face.
C.C. looked at Otto Keller as he continued to twist and untwist the small piece of paper he held in his hands. "Since when is a woman bearing a child by an alien from space any crazier than the story you ran two years ago about the birth of a chimp to a woman in California?"
"That's not the problem. It's just not a new story. It's been written before and not just by us."
"Yeah, but this time I've related my story back to a widely reported incident from fifteen years ago. It was hushed up quickly by the government."
"What?" Keller sat upright in his chair and almost lost the cigar from his mouth.
C.C. knew he had the editor's interest now. He paused for a moment before explaining the basis of his story. "Fifteen years ago several witnesses reported the crash of an alien space craft near Chequamegon Bay in Wisconsin. For three days the military and law enforcement agencies from several states followed a man and woman across country to Arizona where an alien craft was seen by many local people and the military. Most of the details are sketchy because the government tried to cover up the incident, but there are numerous reports still available."
"So are you telling me you're rehashing a fifteen year old story? That's just as bad as writing the same thing over and over."
"I'm not writing the same story. I've elaborated by saying the woman gave birth to the alien's child. The boy would be fourteen now."
"Do we know the name of the woman who was supposedly kidnapped?"
"That was never revealed, but it doesn't matter. My story is the tale of how the alien father returns to reunite his family. It'll hit the stands in early June, just before Father's day."
"I suppose it'll work. Besides we've nothing else to fill the space. Just don't give the impression you know where the mother is. We'll save her for a later edition."
o O o
"Well, I see you finally made it home." Scott came out of the kitchen as his father shut the door.
"I'm not that late."
"Where were you? Nothing happened, did it?"
"No, nothing happened." Paul gave Scott an exasperated look. While it was true Paul frequently got into situations where he didn't understand what was going on, they were becoming less frequent. "I went to the library to get some information after work. Ellin and I had an assignment at an elementary school this afternoon and I wanted to know more about the story."
"What story is that?"
"It's about little Timmy Drake."
"Isn't he the kid with AIDS who wants to go to school?"
"Timmy doesn't have AIDS, he just tests HIV positive."
"Since when did you become the expert?"
"I'm not an expert, but I've been doing some reading. This disease is something all humanity needs to understand. According to one doctor, if all people were educated with the facts as they are now known and they followed the advice of the researchers, the spread of AIDS would be stopped."
"Yeah, so?"
"People should learn about AIDS and understand it, rather than fearing the unknown. Hasn't AIDS been discussed in your classes?"
"Sure. We get it in biology, P.E., and health. But no one wants to associate with kids like that."
"What do you mean, 'kids like that'?"
"You know, the infected kids. No one wants to be exposed to AIDS."
"Of course not, but your bugs are more dangerous to them than they are to you. The AIDS virus destroys their immune system and allows ordinarily minor infections to cause serious illness."
"I suppose so, but they're just, I don't know, different. It's hard not to be afraid of them."
Paul paused for a moment and looked into his son's eyes. "Scott, you and I are different. Should people be afraid of us?"
"Dad, that's not the same thing."
"Isn't it? George Fox thinks we're an infection to be isolated or destroyed to save the human species. Is that really so different from what is being done to AIDS patients? These people are a part of the human family and must not be ignored or rejected."
"Dad, it's just not the same thing. People can't catch what makes us different."
"People can't catch AIDS from casual contact. The virus is not spread through the air. It's less contagious than the flu or the common cold and can be contracted only through direct contact with the infected person's bodily fluids."
"Yeah, I know, but..."
"Scott, the fear people have of AIDS is worse than the disease itself. This fear is dictating the way people are living their lives and making the lives of the victims miserable. Timmy Drake is no threat to the children in the school."
"How can you be sure? The test results might be wrong."
"I don't think so. Ellin talked about DDT. The problem with it was the effects of a gradual build up over many years. The question of AIDS testing doesn't seem to be in the same category."
"How do you mean?"
"The people and resources in the best research labs all over this planet have been committed to finding the cause and cure for this plague. It's been studied much more intensely than any other problem human beings have faced during all their years of existence."
Scott looked into his father's eyes and understood. During the months on the road with his father, Scott had learned a few things about the beings on his father's planet. They were always interested in learning new things, so something totally unknown would excite them, not frighten them. They would want to study it, not destroy it. "What you say makes sense, but it's hard not to be afraid."
"I know, Ellin said being afraid is part of being human. Right now I'm afraid I'm going to starve if I don't get something to eat. What's for dinner?"
"You're asking me? It's your night to cook." Scott raised his eyebrows slightly.
Paul gave Scott a sheepish look as he put his arm around Scott's shoulders and they headed into the kitchen.
CHAPTER 2
"Paul, may I talk with you for a minute?"
Paul looked up to see Clark Cummings standing in front of his desk. "Sure C.C. Please, sit down." Paul knew C.C. didn't seek out the company of his fellow workers for idle conversation. Something had to be bothering him. "What can I help you with?"
C.C. hadn't been able to sleep during the entire week since the latest issue of the World Enquirer had been published. He needed to talk to someone and it was always easy to talk to Paul. "I, huh. Does it ever bother you that this paper prints total lies most of the time?"
Paul noticed C.C. was twisting a napkin round and round in his hands. It was obvious he was very upset about something. "I try not to think about it. I believe most people are intelligent enough to know the World Enquirer is a source of fiction and not much else."
"Do you really think so?"
"Yes."
"If you thought printing a story would harm a real person would you do it?"
"I don't think anything this paper prints could harm anyone."
"If a story based upon fact is published, but it's full of lies, could it hurt the person upon whose life it's based?"
"I just said no one seriously believes the World Enquirer publishes the truth about anything." "Then why do you work here? You're famous and could work anywhere. Doesn't it bother your conscience?"
Paul knew he couldn't tell C.C. the truth. This type question had come up before because Paul Forrester's media status made it hard to keep a low profile. He'd taken this job because he needed the money, and Otto Keller had agreed never to run a credit on any of his photographs. After what had happened in San Leon, this was important.
"I suppose it bothers me some, but I like being out of the spotlight once in a while. It's better for my son when we're settled in one place, rather than wandering all over the country."
"I guess that makes sense. Thanks for your help." As C.C. left Paul's desk, he wasn't sure this was what he'd wanted to hear. Paul Forrester always seemed to have a positive attitude about everything. The alien story shouldn't be bothering him because it was just one fiction based upon an older fiction. But something kept nagging at him. He felt it'd been wrong to write the story, and couldn't figure out why.
o O o
As Ellin placed the current issue of the paper on Paul's desk she asked, "Did you see the photos chosen to accompany the AIDS demonstration story?"
"No." He handed the paper back to her, unopened. "I don't waste my time reading the fiction printed by this paper."
"I just thought you'd be interested to know Keller decided to tone down his stance on the 'no AIDS in our schools' issue. Your pictures of Timmy Drake really got to him."
"Oh, really? Did he print the other side of the story? Did he allow the truth to be told?"
"I said the pictures got to Keller, they didn't make him back down on what he feels will sell papers. It's just a little less inflammatory."
"I'm glad something got to him. Some kinds of fear can keep you safe, but unreasonable and unfounded fears can prevent you from living. Keller is so wrong about spreading lies and fear."
"I know. A few months ago he'd planned on running a story about blood donation but several of us managed to stop it before it was published."
"Why?"
"The story as much as told people they could get AIDS by giving blood."
"Giving blood? Who are you going to give it to?"
Ellin frowned slightly and looked at Paul. She wondered why he sometimes talked like a wise old philosopher and other times as if he were experiencing life for the first time. Paul's question was odd, but she chose to ignore it.
"I'm going to the blood center and I want you to photograph my donation. Now that he seems to be softening a little, I'm going to try to get Keller to run a factual story about blood donation, to allay people's fears. I'd even like to try to take your picture while you give blood, but the quality may ..."
"No!" Paul had spoken more sharply than he had intended.
"What? Are you afraid to donate some blood? It doesn't hurt."
Paul looked down at the desk. "It's not that."
"What then? Surely you aren't afraid of getting AIDS. The needles used in blood donation centers are taken from a sterile package, used once and then destroyed. There's no way for them to be contaminated. You absolutely cannot get AIDS by giving blood."
"I know that, I just don't want any publicity."
"Well, okay, but you can still give blood. There's always a need for more donors."
"No. I can't donate blood."
"Why? Is it a religious thing?" Ellin had never heard Paul discuss religion, but this was one of the few reasons which would make sense. Paul didn't seem to be the type to harbor unfounded fears.
"Yeah, that's it. A religious thing. I have to go now." Paul left Ellin quickly because he knew he couldn't tell her the truth about why it was impossible for him to donate blood. Paul knew his alien body chemistry would be detected in any tests done on the donated blood.
o O o
"Scott, run!" Paul heard the sirens approaching and knew their only chance was to move fast. In the dark it was hard to know what direction to take, as the police seemed to be all around. Paul watched his son jump over the fence to safety just as Fox grabbed Paul by the shoulder and started to shake him.
"Dad, wake up. You're dreaming. Wake up, the phone is ringing." Scott grabbed the receiver as he continued to shake his father. "Hello".
Paul was finally awake enough to understand the danger had only been in his mind. He still wasn't sure he liked dreams. He heard Scott talking on the phone and wondered who would be calling at 3AM.
"Here Dad, it's for you. Some lady named Alice Drake says you have to help her."
As Paul took the receiver he tried to remember who Alice Drake was. "This is Paul Forrester."
"I'm so sorry to bother you, Mr. Forrester, but I didn't know who else to call. The night man at the paper gave me your number. Timmy is afraid. He says he needs you. Please can you help me?"
Paul remembered now. He could hear the anxiety in Alice's voice as she rushed to speak. It didn't take any special ability to know this was a young mother with a lot of fear. "I'll be right over. Give me your address." As Paul wrote down the information Alice gave him he wondered what type of help he could give a small child. What could be wrong with Timmy?
The trip to the Drake house didn't take long. Alice met him at the door. "Thank you so very much for coming. I know you don't know us, but something you said to Timmy made him feel like you could help. He's been so frightened. People keep coming to our house, shouting at us, throwing things, and calling Timmy names. He hasn't been able to sleep for days and just keeps asking to see you. I don't know what you did that day at the school..."
When Paul placed his hand on Alice's shoulder she stopped talking. The rush of words and emotions stopped as he absorbed the feelings and calmed her anxiety. "I'll go talk to Timmy now."
Paul followed Alice to Timmy's room. When she started to follow him inside he turned and said, "Please stay here. It would be best if I talk to Timmy alone."
After talking to Timmy for about a half hour, Paul returned to the living room where Alice was waiting. He looked at her and wished he could do more. "Timmy's sleeping now."
"What did you do? I haven't been able to get him to sleep."
"We just talked. I told him I understand what it's like to be different."
"Well, I'm not sure what you mean, but if it helps Timmy that's all that matters. Maybe he just needed to talk to a man. Since his father died in the accident it's been just the two of us. Jack was...was..." Alice buried her head in her hands as she was overcome with grief at the thought of her late husband.
After a few moments of silence, Alice felt Paul put his hand on her shoulder. She instantly felt an inner peace and calm. Alice looked into Paul's eyes as he took her hands in his. She continued, "Jack and Timmy were in a car accident five years ago. Jack died instantly, and Timmy was critically hurt. He was given many blood transfusions in the hospital and that's how he contracted the AIDS virus."
"I thought donated blood was tested for AIDS."
"It is now. The ELISA test has been used since March of 1985 and it's almost 100% accurate in detecting AIDS antibodies in donated blood. But Timmy was hurt before the test was available and some of the blood he was given was contaminated."
"You said almost 100% accurate. Does that mean there's still a danger of contamination?"
"There's a period of time after infection before the antibodies the test recognizes develop. During this time an infected person who donates blood can still pass on the disease. It's extremely rare now for blood to be contaminated, but it can still happen."
Paul was quiet for a moment. He wished he could cure Timmy, but since he didn't know what caused the disease, he couldn't. He was in deep thought when he realized Alice had continued talking.
"...Technically no one dies of AIDS. AIDS merely destroys the functioning of the immune system and without that, any disease can invade, and kill the body."
"You've certainly had to learn a lot about this. If only other people knew the facts it would be easier on Timmy and others like him."
Alice blinked back her tears and nodded her head. She didn't know why, but Paul seemed to understand her feelings. It was so easy to talk to him neither of them realized how long they'd talked until the morning paper hit the door.