Artifact 30: John Talks to the Truth Talk Guy

John and Rusty investigated the strange crash after Rusty saw a inhuman form carried away by the US Army. They think others should know about this remarkable event.

Artifact 30: John Talks to the Truth Talk Show Guy

 

In the early morning hours, John placed a call to Robert Mavel, the host of the “Truth Talk Show” that airs on the radio. Mavel’s assistant proved impatient and blunt, basically blowing off John’s insistence that he had something Mavel would be interested in hearing. To get past Mavel’s assistant and perhaps gain the host’s undivided attention, John told him that he and Rusty had proof of Gugalacs!

 

            “Repeat that, sir,” Robert Mavel’s assistant plainly requested.

            “I have proof of Gugalacs,” John evenly said.

 Rusty stood by very interested now and fully awake despite his haggard appearance wearing dark rings under his red, blood-shot eyes.

             “Oh! All right. Hold a moment, sir.” John heard a muffled sound apparently from the phone being held against the body belonging to the voice. He then faintly heard someone saying about the show being on the air in fifteen minutes with someone saying low but clearly, “It’s just another wacko on the phone.” A bit louder and clearer, a deep-voiced man said, “Give it to me, I’ll clear this up. You go ahead and get the show ready to go. GO!”

“Hello,” said the very deep, mellow, and measured voice that John recognized.  “This is Robert Mavel. Sir. First off, let me tell you that my time is very important to me and the listening public, so you had better not waste it. State your case, short and sweet.”

            “Yes sir, Mr. Mavel. I’m John Thompson from Corona, New Mexico.  I remember a show talking about Gugalacs. I have proof of a crashed outer space aircraft�" and my foreman standing right here has seen them�"the, the Gugalacs!”

            “Please, Mr. Thompson�"please.” John heard a deep, impatient sigh on the phone. “Do you know where the story surfaced naming the so-called Gugalacs? Do you? It’s a figment of some gawdarn’s yahoo’s imagination, published in a volume of “Outer Space Stories” sold at any local five and dime store�"do you understand where I’m coming from?”

“Yes sir, Mr. Mavel entirely, but�"” John tried to explain, but Mavel pressed on.

“They, the so-called Gugalacs, are strange green beings supposedly from outer space that that gawdarn person had dreamed up. I disproved their existence as a figment of that yahoo’s imagination on my show over a year ago.”

             John’s pulse began to race, and he held a hand to his aching barrel chest. He and Rusty had hoped for a promising response with a premise from Mr. Mavel’s own show to catch the host’s interest and to understand the weight of what the two had found.   

            “I do know that, Mister Mavel�"but listen a moment, please�"I have pieces of a real crashed flying device, and the US Army took away the bodies�"strange looking bodies! I have an eyewitness right here who�"”

            “I’m sorry, Mister Thompson,” Mavel said cutting John off again. “I’m sure what you two have found is interesting and all, but I’m running out of time here for my show about found TRUTHS.” John thought he heard a fist thump on a desk.  “Besides, Mister Thompson, I find what you say very hard to believe and is pretty much like all the other crazy, out-of-this-world stories I’ve heard over and over because the so-called ‘true’ or ‘factual’ stories are always someone’s delusional, drug or alcohol-induced imaginings.”     

            John heard a voice in the room with Mister Mavel. “Mister Mavel, excuse me but you’d better take a look at this�"now!”

            “Hold on Mr. Thompson I’m being called aside for a REAL extraordinary news item.”

            During the several moments of silence, the bedroom door quietly rattled. Both the men heard it, and Rusty felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. They turned to look at each other before turning back to the bedroom door. They saw shadows move underneath. Neither said a word.

             Suddenly, John jerked upon hearing Mister Mavel exclaim in the background, “What! Right! That’s crazy!” Someone else spoke that John couldn’t quite make out and Mavel said, “I have this man, a rancher from out there on the phone right now! Here, give it to me�"hurry up there!” Rusty saw John’s expression perk up that he took as good news. John heard the phone being jostled on a tabletop and a throat clearing along with a rustle of paper.

            “Heh- ah! Mr. Thompson,” Mavel said with a pause catching his breath. “I apologize for what I said. I’m sorry I was brash with you because suddenly, in the last fifteen seconds, you’ve gained plenty of credence.” A pause and a breath. “So. Let’s sort this out and verify something. Where did you say your ranch was exactly?”

“Corona, New Mexico”

            “That’s near where?”

            “Roswell, New Mexico.”

            “Bingo! Right answer! You have won my undivided interest!” Mavel said enthusiastically. “Well, let me tell you this. Just sent across the Reuters news wire is an article that the Roswell Army Air Corp released saying that they have discovered and identified a crashed flying saucer. So, do you know what this must mean?”

            “It must be the crash on my ranch!” John said excitedly. Rusty leaned back away from John’s animated gestures wide-eyed and excited. He was all ears. 

             “Right!  I can be there in ah, about two and half hours,” Mister Mavel said. “Where’s an easy to find place to meet? Preferably clandestine, out away from the public eye.” 

            John thought a second, “Corona crossroads, highways’ 247 and 54. We can meet there, and go somewhere to talk or go see the crash. But what about your show?”

            “Forget it; this is way too important to put off. My staff can handle the show.  Now, do not tell anyone else�"not a soul, hear? And watch to make sure you are not followed; we need to keep this as quiet as we can.” A lengthy pause ensued. “Mister Thompson, this article in the paper won’t be published and on the streets until three this afternoon at the earliest, so we have time. Thank you! Thank you so much Mr. Thompson for bringing this to my attention. Oh, about the meeting! To identify me, I have a new red forty-eight Ford V-8 coupe and you?”

            “Ah, a forty-one Mercury sedan, ah brown�"tan.”

            “See you out there, Mister Thompson I say at about quarter to seven. Thank you again! G’bye!”   

            “Goodbye, Mister Mavel.”

            Rusty couldn’t wait to hear the particulars. “So what did he say about the crash? Was he really interested? He wants to see it?!” Rusty asked excitedly.

            They turned to the bedroom door rattling again and the knob turning.

            “I’d like to know that too!” Melba said walking through the bedroom door portal.

            “MELBA!” John scolded. “Have you listened in on the whole phone conversation? Have you?”

            “I would never eavesdrop on you, my husband,” Melba said adamantly. “I only heard what Rusty asked you just now.” 

            “Melba?” John asked persistently with a glower. “How much did you hear�"wife?”

             Melba paused a moment but didn’t shy from John’s glare. “I could hear every word you said, just to see what you two were up to,” she said proud of herself. “So. What are goog-gu-locks and what do you two have going on here with them?”

“Calm down, Melba!” John said sternly. “They are Gugalacs, Melba! Never mind them. But like I told you before, I can’t tell you anything now. Mind your place, wife, this is just Rusty and my business,” he paused and took in her stern expression.

            “Who was that on the phone at this ungodly hour? You two are getting someone else involved in whatever hoopla you dreamed up? I’m not denying what I heard you say; you called that oddball, crackpot talk show man. So, what kind of trouble will he bring you?” Melba said, with a tch, tch and a head shake directed at John. She put her hands on her hips. “I said my piece and rest my case�"you two have lost your minds.”

             “I’m sorry for all this secrecy, but I’ll tell you when I can. I told you that before, Melba so listen to me, this is men’s business! Just go back to bed and don’t say anything to anybody.”

            “John. John. I just don’t know anything with you two’s goings on so how in Sam’s Hill can I say something to somebody? You are not making any sense. I can’t believe you two are carryin’ on like this.” Melba came up for air. “John, remember your heart? Doc Pete said for you to take it easy and not ta git excited or agitated over things. Right now, you are gittin’ all excitable and all over what? I can’t say cuz you ain’t talkin’.” Melba said, shaking her head. “Pshaw John, this ain’t like you a‘tall.”

            “I didn’t get excitable until you got your nose into our business and put in your two cents,” John said. “Go back to bed, Melba and don’t you worry none.”

She turned away, still shaking her head, waving her arms in dismissal, and talking to herself.

“Well, you sure ain’t gonna’ listen to me anyway so just get on with you two’s little out-of-this-world scheme.”

 She was still gesturing about as she slowly went back inside the bedroom with a light slam of the door. The men stared at the closed bedroom door for a few seconds. John turned to Rusty.

“Rusty, let’s go in the office.”

Rusty sheepishly nodded his agreement.

            The two men strolled into the office and John pulled open the side board, withdrew a cigar box and offered Rusty one. He received a shake of the head no for a response. John picked up last night’s unlit cigar from the ashtray.

            “So what is happening with Mavel? What’s he think? What’s he want to do? I only heard parts of what you two talked about. Are we meeting with him or what?” Rusty asked reenergized.

            Proud of himself, John smiled with a wide, sheet-eatin’ grin around the cigar he finally put a match to. Creating a huge thick cloud, he took a couple puffs without a word and blew out the match with a puff of blue breath. He held the smoking cigar out toward Rusty.

            “Well let me tell you, Rusty. We’re meeting up with Mavel, but you won’t believe the best part of all I found out from talking to him just now.”

“What’s that?”

“Do you know what the Army is calling this crash? 

            Rusty shook his head and said, “haven’t the slightest”   

            “Get a load of this: The United States Army reported this to the paper callin’ it an undeniable, bonified ‘flying saucer’ crash!”