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The Turkonians are coming

by Bob Faszczewski


Bob is an accomplished journalist with more than 30 years as a reporter and writer for some of the most respected community news organizations in suburban Northern New Jersey. He also holds a paralegal certificate and worked for many years for Lexis-Nexis, one of the premier legal reference publishing organizations in the world. 

     He now resides in Berlin, MD, where he has written a number of short stories both with a murder mystery bent and exploring the relationship of time travel to improving circumstances for those in the current era and generations in the future. Many of his futuristic heroes and heroins are descendants of outstanding historical figures. 


     “Crash!” The sound of all the plates on the breakfast table tumbling to the floor followed by a bloodcurdling scream.

     The scream emanated more from shock than fear. It came from Carey Stupolski, a guest in the Fizurski home due to a potentially dangerous domestic situation in her own home.

       “The craziest thing,” Carol said, “I sat eating a plate of Uncle Stan’s delicious pancakes and reached for a glass of orange juice. All of a sudden I found myself tossed off my chair into mid-air with most of the dishes and other breakfast-ware falling on top of me as I landed on the floor.”

       Luckily, Carey experienced no physical injury and the serving plates and glassware escaped with few breakages.

      For Carey, however, the breakfast incident capped off a traumatic few weeks of sadness and concern, both for her welfare and that of her mother Marcia and sister Penelope. Their father, Jason Stupolski, had gone from a decent, hardworking father and husband to a destructive alcoholic with dangerous schizophrenic tendencies.

     The previous Thursday, while walking to school with her cousins, Carey narrowly escaped injury when her father attempted to abduct her and nearly ran her over with the junkyard reject car that provided his current mode of transportation.

      Jason also narrowly missed the traffic officer on duty, which yielded him a very stern 10-minute lecture and a warning, “Good for you I am in a good mood,” the policeman said, “otherwise I would, at the very least, issue you a summons and possibly land your ass in jail.”

     Not that he hadn’t come close. The previous week, after Marcia had notified him of their impending divorce, he had broken into the family’s lower-income apartment from which she had evicted him and attempted to physically assault his wife.

      Luckily Uncle Stan, visiting with his family at the time, had quickly “escorted” Jason from the premises.

       Back to the fateful morning of the falling plates:

       Turns out the bizarre incident had nothing to do with Jason or the domestic storm clouding the Stupolski household.

       “Guess the dishes just slipped off the table,” Uncle Stan said as he helped Carey up from the floor. 

       “However, come to think of it, this is just one in a series of strange incidents that we’ve had here in the last month. My wife began making a turkey dinner for Thanksgiving a few weeks ago when the broiler door on our stove popped open for no apparent reason. Last Friday our television screen turned purple before the TV stopped working and suddenly went back to normal within a few minutes.”

      Just as the family started to recover from the latest shock the kitchen door flew open and in walked a very large man—about eight feet tall—with strange looking skin that had almost a bluish tint,

       “I can explain,” the creature said. “I am from the planet Turkon, We have had your earth under observation for about six of your earth months. Turkon received an unusual blast of energy for your sun because an explosion from a meteorite pushed our planet closer to the sun. We view your earth as a possible colony to replace our planet once it burns out of existence. Rather than engaging in warfare with your civilization we saw the much easier option as scaring your people into deserting earth and leaving It to us.”     

      The Turkonian added that his people had observed the domestic dispute and saw it as another option to help them to obtain their objectives without engaging with earth’s defensive forces. 

        However, just as suddenly as he had appeared the Turkonian vanished into thin air.

       Someone else knocked on the kitchen door.

         “I am Col. Sandford Jones of Homeland Security. We have monitored the Turkonians as they watched earth. We listened in on their meetings and waited for them to make their move. We then captured some members of the Turkonian faction bent on taking over earth. Fortunately, we have negotiated with a more moderate faction and will work with them to save their planet without having them take over ours.”

           After the incident the family court finalized Marcia’s divorce and the family counseling service had Jason committed to a mental health facility, where he died three years later.
 


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