Swap Gas

It was 1966. The four of us had pooled our money to buy an old, well used 1951 Ford four door. At first glance, the car looked gray. In fact, however, the thing had once been blue but time, sunlight, grime and midwestern winters had faded the paint so very badly that it took on the hue of light battleship gray.

For $85.00 it wasn't all that bad a car. We had to keep a case of motor oil in the trunk to quell the unending clouds of smoke that belched from the tail pipe and other unknown orifices that a car may have. Thw windshield wipers worked only sporadicly but the AM radio radio worked well. There was no FM back then. The interior was worn and threadbare. The occasional spring would sometimes come ripping it's way to the surface of one of the seats.

There was, of course, the constant bickering about whose turn it was to keep possesion of the ride for the night. This dilemma was usually resolved by determining who could afford to put gas in the bottomless fuel tank which drank gasoline in volumes unheard of in this era. Even though gas was about .29 cents a gallon, the fuel guage, when working, rarely moved past the half way mark.

One night in March of that year the four of us found ourselves doing what had become a familiar routine. The four of us sat in the old Ford downing a six pack of Bud. It was a blessed evening. The beer was cold and the old Ford's heater was working.

The car was parked at the end of a dead end street that had once been busier and more prosperous until the expressway was built. The raised expressway had cut across the street at an odd angle, dooming the street to a slow death. Right along side the expressway was the school.

To call it a school is somehow unjust. Typical of the turn of the century style, the gray roof, limestone block base and red brick construction, along with high, narrow windows made the old school look more like a penal institution. It's overall appearance was only worsened by years of soot, auto exhaust fumes and dirt that clung to the brick the way soap scum lays on your shower door.

As we sipped our beers we talked of girls, sports and the rumors of war in southeast Asia. And although no one ever walked this street anymore, we would frequently pause to make sure that we would not be caught with beer.

The four of us: Turtle, who was grossly overweight and suffering from a severe case of acne. Tom, who may have tipped the scales at 100lbs when fully clothed if he had a few bricks in his coat pockets. TC, as in TopCat. The one who was always organiizing a fishing trip, beer party, excursion to some dance in another neighborhood or firing us up enough to do some thing crazy. And myself. the one who was lost in the crowd. Average height, average weight, average looks.

As we sat in the old ford with TC behind the wheel and I next to him in the front seat, that glorious AM radio in the dash was blasting the latest Beatles number until some nameless DJ began screaming about some dance somewhere, where he would be making a guest appearance. The screaming DJ then announced the late night newscast.

There were reports of this war thing, a story about a civil rights march and something about economics. Then, the story that would change our lives.

The reporter, in a nervous yet suppressed voice began talking about reports of a UFO sighting somewhere in Michigan. And this was the real thing ! The UFO had been chased by Police Officers. dozens of citizens had seen the craft come down somewhere in a swampy area where it's landing lights along with a strange glow could be seen. Maybe, THEY had really arrived.

I think the reporter had said the UFO had landed in Livingston County.

This would be TC at his finest ! There would be no excuses. We had to go ! School, family, girlfriends all be damned. We were on out way to hunt the Aliens !

The trip would be a long one. We had to ante up for gas money, food supplies and whatever else may be needed. TC's eyes were on fire. I hadn't seen him this enthusiastic since the night we pushed his grandfathers 1948 Chevy out of the garage and down the alley in the dark of night to take it for a joyride without being seen.

Before I knew where we  were really going, we found ourselves on that expressway that had cut off our neighborhood from the rest of the world. We were going to search for alien invaders. It would be the adventure of a lifetime !

It would also be an adventure that would chang our lives forever. I didn't know it then, but we would find the aliens.

To Be Continued.