I am Rome

Chapter One

Joe raced through the small town on his old Huffy BMX bike. A master of knowing all the shortcuts in town, he weaved in and out of alleys, racing through parks and parking lots. The rugged tires of his bike became momentarily airborne as he bunny hopped onto a sidewalk, wheelied across, and then descended down a set of stairs on his back wheel.

Sweat soaked through the hard foam of his loosely fitted helmet as he furiously peddled back to the restaurant. Glancing at his watch, he was sure he was going to make it in time. Six deliveries in one hour — that would be a new record for him — but only if he could make it through the restaurant doors in the next two minutes.

It was late so there was hardly any traffic. This made blowing through intersections far less hazardous. With his legs working tirelessly, he was now less than a block away. He glanced at his watch one last time before the final stretch. Thirty seconds remained. Now entering the parking lot of Del Rosario’s Pizzeria, he approached a large puddle and cut right through to save time. With wet tires, he skidded to a stop, quickly dismounted, and burst through the back doors and into the kitchen.

Oh, and with time to spare! he shouted triumphantly to the late-night kitchen staff.

Way to go, Joe! one of the chefs remarked. Six in one hour! We should get you a plaque or something.

Drenched in sweat and out of breath, Joe high-fived several of the cooks as he made his way to the employee lounge — a tiny area with a beat-up table, a small couch, and some lockers. One of the waitresses, April, was already back there, cashing out for the night.

What’s with all the commotion? she asked. I heard some people hootin’ and hollerin’?

Joe was delighted to see April and got butterflies every time he saw her, but on the outside, he played it cool. It was obvious to everyone but Joe that he was madly in love with her. Despite his best efforts to conceal his feelings, he wore his emotions on his sleeve. It was an endearing quality and in a way made April attracted to him.

Oh, it’s… nothing, he said through panting breaths.

Just then, Sean walked in with a slow sarcastic clap.

Well, well, well, if it isn’t Speedy Gonzales himself, Sean said in a mocking tone. The only delivery driver who doesn’t drive. You’re more of a delivery peddler, aren’t you? he joked as he walked away laughing.

Of course, Sean had a point. Delivering pizzas with a car would have been much easier, but a car wasn’t a luxury Joe could afford just yet. It was tough for him to earn enough to buy a truck since he would spend his days working on his parents’ farm. In lieu of payment, his parents would often tell Joe they were instilling him with a strong work ethic and providing him with three meals a day and a roof over his head.

Working at the restaurant was only meant to be a part-time gig during the busy summer, but with school starting in a few weeks, he would most likely be out of a job. Business had already slowed down considerably.

Just ignore him, April said. Are you okay?

Yeah, I’m fine, I just need to catch my breath.

Yo, April, Sean interrupted, table seven is asking for their bill.

Okay, I’ll be right out, she replied. Sorry, I have to go, but we’ll chat later, she said with a sincere smile.

Joe wasn’t exactly smooth around woman, but figured it did not really matter in this case since April was with Sean — the nighttime manager and the owner’s son. He used to be the day manager, but moved to nights so that his schedule was more aligned with April. He would then drive her home most nights and pressured her for months before she finally agreed to go out with him. Joe had no clue what she saw in him. Sean was a few years older than Joe, but didn’t act like it.

April also happened to be the sheriff’s daughter — these two facts provided Joe plenty of reasons to not get involved with her. Nevertheless, her cute dimples, bubbly personality, and charm lured him in with each interaction. Nearly every time he saw her, he would have to recite the reasons in his head as a method of arriving at the forgone conclusion — April McDaniel was off limits.

Whether he knew it or not, Joe had a great presence about him. His youthful and wholesome nature warmed people’s hearts. He wasn’t a big city slicker who had been corrupted by the evils of the world, far from it. At seventeen, he hadn’t experienced much evil at all. He was raised by honest, goodhearted, and hardworking country folk and naturally those same qualities rubbed off on him as well. He was kind and generally well liked. There was a naiveté about him that was rare and made people immediately feel comfortable around him.

Don’t get too comfortable, Joe, another order just came in, Sean said as he walked over and put his arm around April. Sean pulled her in close and kissed her on the cheek. It was an alpha move to let Joe know that April was his girl.

Joe barely had a chance to catch his breath before returning to the kitchen.

Sean, stop, not in front of the customers, she said, annoyed with his antics. She shrugged his arm off her and left to check on her last table.

How’s the bike holding up these days, Joe? Sean asked just to be a jerk. Joe didn’t answer him; instead he took the high road and walked away.

Don’t be mean, Sean, April said, coming to Joe’s defense.

What? Come on, I’m not being mean, I was just being playful with him. Besides, he’s knows I’m just joking. Right, Joe?... Joe?

With a new delivery slip and a piping hot pizza in his hand, Joe exited the back doors of the restaurant, ready to make his final delivery of the night.

Strapping the pizza delivery bag to the back of his bike, Joe glanced over at Sean’s pristine Mustang. Its shiny black paint gleamed under the streetlamp that was directly above it. Not a day went by where Joe didn’t think about running his rusty handlebars across the paint, or putting a large dent in the door. Sean may not even notice the damage for a few days and would probably think someone else did it. Nevertheless, they were just dreams, he wouldn’t actually do it.

Still reeling with anger and resentment, Joe tried to clear his mind from his impure thoughts. In his emotional state, he couldn’t help but think about the injustices of the world. He asked himself, ‘How do jerks like Sean get girls like April, and nice guys like me end up single and lonely? Ah, the world’s not fair.’

Good night, Joe, April said, interrupting his internal monologue.

Yeah, see ya.

Joe fastened his bike lock around his body so that it hung loosely around his shoulder and draped across his torso. Now sitting on his bike, he set off calmly down the dimly lit street of the small town.

Chapter Two

After making his final delivery, Joe hopped back on his bike and cruised through the sleeping town. He yawned as he casually peddled through the quiet streets. The cool summer-night breeze hit his face, giving him a second wind, but he still had a long ride ahead of him. All was quiet as there was not another vehicle or pedestrian on the road. Traffic lights were still operating, but he hardly paid any attention to them. Using various shortcuts, he eventually found his way onto the highway and maintained a steady pace toward the family farm.

The highway was barren as well, which made for a rather peaceful ride. At about the midway point, Joe was miles away from any sort of civilization. The moonlight, as well as the headlamp affixed to his handlebars, provided adequate lighting, but it was still a little sketchy riding a bicycle down a highway at night.

Staring up at the stars, he let his mind wander. As he continued to peddle, his pant leg dislodged from his sock and became ensnared in the jagged metal teeth of his bike sprocket. Joe fought to free his leg, but he just ended up ripping the thin, cotton fabric. He had now become so entangled that it jammed up the bike, sending him into a mild panic. In haste, he squeezed the hand brakes, which caused the back tire to lock up and fishtail in the loose dirt. The front tire fell into a pothole and jerked violently, breaking Joe’s grip. Before he had time to react, he flew over the handlebars and came crashing down on his helmet. It all happened in an instant.

Joe laid in the dirt, tangled in a mess of bent metal and one spinning wheel. His palms were bleeding from skidding on the asphalt. He grimaced in pain as he tried to dislodge as much of the dirt and rocks that were imbedded in his skin.

Joe’s pants were still wedged in the sprocket and had a large tear in them. He pushed the bike off him and began to unhinge himself. Once free, he slowly rose back to his feet and dusted himself off. He was fairly banged up, but still in one piece. The headlamp that was affixed to his helmet also survived the crash, which was a blessing. It casted a faded cone of light on the pavement as he looked up and down the long stretch of road.

Just as Joe was bending over to pick up his bike, a strange object flew overhead. He did not catch any more than a glimpse as it just caught his peripheral vision. Whatever it was, it was moving very fast and didn’t make a sound. Joe quickly spun around just in time to see the object crash in a large cornfield that encompassed both sides of the highway.

Dumbfounded and remaining perfectly still, he gazed across the vast cornfield, waiting and listening. He wasn’t sure what the object was, and for a moment questioned whether he had in fact seen anything at all. He knew all too well that his mind tended to play tricks on him at night, especially when he was alone. Plus, he had recently banged his head and hadn’t exactly regained his wits.

He was confronted with the possibility that the large object in the sky was nothing more than a figment of his imagination, a late-night adrenaline-induced hallucination. Then he heard the impact. It was apparent that something had crashed less than a mile away from him. He thought if he hurried, there may be some survivors requiring assistance.

Joe picked his bike off the ground, set it back on its wheels, and pushed it to the edge of the cornfield. The large bruises on his tired legs caused him to limp, but he moved as quickly as possible. Once at the edge, he hesitated on whether he should enter the field. Growing up in those parts, kids were constantly warned about the dangers of playing in the cornfields. Once surrounded by the tall cornstalks, any reference points become lost and it’s impossible to see which way the exit is. Some think they are exiting when in fact they are walking deeper and deeper into the encompassing maze. Fortunately for Joe, it was a clear night so he could rely on the stars to navigate.

With his headlamp firmly affixed to his helmet, he laid his bike down at the edge of the field, and parted the large plants so he could enter. Pressing onward through the tall brush, Joe marched toward the wreckage.

Chapter Three

Joe had been walking for what seemed like miles. The massive bruises on his legs made every step agonizing. The stinging pain in his raw hands was hard to ignore, made worse every time he pushed aside the stiff stalks of corn. Whatever second wind he once had was no longer existent. The fatigue had once again set in and was playing tricks on his exhausted mind. At times, he felt as if he was in a dream, questioning what he was doing traipsing around in the middle of the night in a cornfield.

Eventually, he came to the edge, or at least what he thought was the edge. It was not unusual to find narrow paths carved into the cornfields; farmers used them for a variety of reasons. What was unusual about this path was that it was a large clearing of about thirty-feet wide and was not made of dirt. It was made entirely of flattened cornstalks as if he had inadvertently stumbled upon a crop circle.

Finding the path was a blessing because it not only confirmed something had created it, but it also provided him with the perfect guidance system. Now all he needed to do was follow the impression in the cornfield and it would lead him right to the crash site.

Joe stepped onto the path and looked as far as his eye could see. His weak light barely illuminated ten feet in front of him. Before he proceeded, he wanted to remember the way he came. Since the easiest way back to his bike was to follow the path he had created, he looked for some way to mark the opening he had emerged from. He did not have anything in his pockets nor did he have any clothing he could leave behind. He tried twisting the cornstalks in such a way that would standout, but it was not distinctive enough and he feared he may not be able to find his way back.

Out of habit, he attempted to scratch his head. That’s when he realized he was still wearing his bike helmet. He unfastened the strap and peeled the helmet off his head. It was a little worse for wear, but would suffice as a trail marker. Joe removed the headlamp and clipped the strap of his helmet around the base of a stalk before proceeding onward.

The moonlight cast enough light on the path, allowing Joe to turn off his lamp and conserve the battery. His limp seemed to be getting worse, but he walked as briskly as he could. For several hundred metres, the only sound was of crunching leaves and branches that reverberated beneath each step. Eventually, another sense was activated.

A distinct odour wafted up his nostrils, it was the smell of burnt corn. The green path faded to black causing Joe to investigate further. He knelt down and turned his light back on. The cornstalks appeared to be scorched. Joe turned his light off and stood back up. He figured he must be near the impact zone.

Further ahead, the blackened path became choppy with upheaved dirt — undoubtedly caused by a large object colliding into the Earth and ploughing through the field. In the distance, Joe noticed a large craft with one side deeply rooted in the ground. Whatever the craft was made of, it appeared to be refracting the moonlight, causing a hazy blue glow to encompass it. Even then, Joe did not consider the craft to have extraterrestrial origins. From Joe’s vantage point, he still couldn’t tell what it was, but figured it was either a small plane or a satellite that had fallen from the sky and skidded to Earth.

He slowly approached the object with a cautious curiosity. When he became near enough, he recognized what he was looking at was a large metallic saucer. Still unconvinced it was an alien craft, he wanted to get a closer examination. Walking right up to it, he saw strange markings engraved along the side. As he reached out to touch the craft, he suddenly felt ill.

There was a strange energy emitting from the craft that was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It felt as though he had been trapped between two very powerful magnets. He became disorientated and decided to put some distance between him and the mysterious craft. As he began to walk backwards, he lost his balance and tripped over a rock. Having stumbled to the ground, Joe continued to crawl until he was far enough away from the craft. Upon taking refuge behind a large mound of dirt, Joe suddenly and unexpectedly vomited.

Just then, he heard a hissing sound coming from the craft that scared him half to death. He ducked his head low to remain out of sight, and slithered into the dense cornfield. From there, he could observe undetected.

Joe stared with wide eyes and a gaping mouth as he could hardly believe what he was witnessing. Some kind of bipedal being emerged from the craft. It was about four-feet tall and wore a shiny metallic suit with a large helmet.

Joe watched in amazement as the being stumbled around. It took out a small handheld device and appeared to be analyzing the atmosphere. It seemed to be completely oblivious to Joe’s presence. Moments later, the being pressed a switch on its helmet, releasing the locking mechanism that secured it to the suit. When the being removed the helmet, Joe got a better look at it.

The being was completely bald, had grey leathery skin, and large black eyes. Joe leaned forward to get a better view, but his movement created a disturbance in the leaves. The being shot a glance in Joe’s direction and then aimed its device at the cornfield in which Joe was hiding. Joe was frozen with fear as he was sure the being was going to vapourize him, but then something astonishing happened. The being spoke to him.

‘I am Rome,’ the being said. ‘Don’t be afraid, I mean you no harm.’

Rome’s thoughts entered Joe’s mind and were perceived in a language that made perfect sense. He understood it as English, but it was more advanced than