ve always been wondering about Roy Dwight, ever

By Peter Yared
I
Peter Yared wrote this story while in the seventh grade at the American International
School in Vienna, Austria. It is reprinted
from the October/November 1985 Premier
Issue of Merlyn’s Pen in celebration of Merlyn’s tenth anniversary.
F EBRUARY / MARCH 1995
’ve always been wondering about Roy Dwight, ever since I saw him
jump. It all happened in 1978. I was walking around the corner of Main
Street in Greensburg, my home town, when a car zoomed past me, turned
sharply, screeching like fingernails going down a blackboard, and headed
straight for Roy!
“Watch it, Roy!” I yelled.
He wheeled around upon seeing the car, which was about ten feet away
from him, and leaped. And I mean leaped! He went soaring above the blue
Mercedes and landed about twenty feet behind it. I was still dumbfounded
with awe when the driver, a short, squat, lumbering man, climbed out of
the car and started cussing at Roy. Roy turned and fled, naturally. The driver angrily added a few more profanities to his little speech, then jumped
back into his car, slammed the door, and drove off.
Here’s the catch: I think Roy’s an alien. If he could jump around
twenty feet, he must be used to a stronger gravity.
Roy has a long, thin face, a wave of light brown hair, and pointy ears.
Maybe it was his pointy ears that made me think he was an alien at first.
They always reminded me of Spock in that dumb “Star Trek” show on
TV. When he first came to Greensburg one and a half years ago, everybody called him Spooky Spocky, but we all got sick of it, so we quit. His
eyes always look like he’s squinting. If he’s not from Earth, he’s probably
squinting because his sun is less bright than ours, or he lives further away
from our sun than we do. He’s got a long drooping nose with a few freckles on it. His lips are thin and brittle, looking as if they would break if you
touched them. He’s got a square chin hanging over his chubby little neck.
But his main feature is his IQ. It is 183. Now show me a kid with an IQ
of 183, and I’ll show you an alien.
Up to now I’d had my doubts if he was an alien or not, but yesterday
in the park I finally decided. We were playing football in the park stadium,
and Roy was sitting in the stands with a radio beside him. Of the whole
park, our favorite place is the stadium. From a bird’s-eye view, it looks like
a slice of a huge egg and its shell is the stands, circling the tremendous
green blanket. There are two thousand seats in the stadium, making it the
largest stadium in the area. The guard always lets us in to play, which is
pretty nice of him. The rest of the park is trees, grass fields, paths, and benches,
like most parks.
Well, Roy was sitting on the stands, but he was (continued on page 33)
M E R LY N ’ S P E N M IDDLE SCHOOL E DITION
29
Winter
blows
his cold breath in my face.
I beg him to leave me but
he only laughs
and sticks his cold fingers
down my back
and lingers and lounges
and sits at the top
of the sky’s tall staircase,
refusing to budge.
If only someone
would take
spring,
discover her everwarm nest
as fragrant and sweet as a green-wreathed day,
and wrap her up
in rough brown paper
and place her
gently
on
my
doorstep.
—Kendra Levin,
Sixth grade, Marblehead Middle School,
Marblehead, Massachusetts
Alien Invader
(continued from page 29)
doing something pretty weird. He wasn’t only listening to the radio, he was also talking into it! I guessed
it was his transmitter, and he was using it to talk to his
people. Then Bill had to go home and clean up his room,
so we were short one player. We called to Roy and asked
him if he wanted to play. He agreed, and slid off the
bench. As he slid, his thigh bumped into his “radio”
and it fell to the ground and split apart. Its contents
were totally different from those of a normal radio. There
was this greenish fluid seeping out, and the electronics were very, very compact. The antenna had a huge
booster that probably helped in transmitting over long
distances.
Right then I knew for sure: Roy was not from Earth.
I told the other guys I had to go shopping for my mom,
and before they could object, I ran home.
When I finally got there, panting from exhaustion
and wiping the sweat from my brow, I leaped into my
room and hurried to my long, wooden desk. I groped
under it until I found a button and pushed it. With the
hum of electric motors, my desk transformed into a
communications terminal. My fingers went flying over
the keyboard, inputting area codes and frequencies.
Every time I pushed a button a beep sounded, and the
echoes of all the beeps died away when I stopped typing. Then I reached for my microphone and said into
it, “Zargon to Pluto Station, Zargon to Pluto Station,
I have found an alien. He is not from Earth, nor is he
one of us. Hold off the invasion until I investigate further . . .” ★
FPO
41%
F EBRUARY / MARCH 1995
NATHAN KURZ, SIXTH GRADE,
ALL SAINTS SCHOOL, MANASSAS, VIRGINIA
Winter
M E R LY N ’ S P E N M IDDLE SCHOOL E DITION
33
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