An excerpt from the novel
SAVING SHAYLA PARKER
CHAPTER 11
An Odd Looking Contraption
Lord Wadsworth’s mouth dropped as he watched a bizarre, odd-looking contraption gradually become visible. It was the size of a single car garage, clad in some sort of odd-shaped metal. Even more strange was that it flickered into and out of visibility for a few seconds, like a strobe light, before becoming fully visible.
“Holy fucking mother of buckets of shit! Smitty! Look! It’s a bloody spaceship or something. It’s all made of shiny metal of some sort. Gold or something. And look at all those wires and tubes wrapped over and around the bloody thing. And there’s a greenish yellow smoke or steam coming out of those vents that smells of burnt sperm – if there is such a thing. Never seen anything like it! Egad!”
Captain Smith turned around to look for himself as Lord Wadsworth provided the description. His eyes opened wide and mouth opened wider, but no sound came out. Lord Wadsworth slowly began to walk towards it with extreme caution, overwhelmed with curiosity more than fear.
The captain timidly followed. “Are you sure we should get close to this thing, Dick?”
“No, but what the fuck else can we do? We obviously can’t call a Bobby. What are they going to do? Blow their little whistles?” he scoffed. “They’d probably run in the opposite direction.”
Captain Smith nodded in detached agreement. “Yes, I suppose so.”
“Look, there’s a door. I’m going to give it a knock. Stay back behind me.” Lord Wadsworth stopped as far away from the door as possible to a point where his hand would just barely reach it. He knocked, gently at first, then more aggressively when no response was heard. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone home, but I’m not buying that.”
“Have a close listen and see if you can hear anything or anyone,” suggested Captain Smith.
Lord Wadsworth slightly kneeled, positioned himself closer and put his ear directly on the door. Lady Darla suddenly came outside through the mud room door.
“What the heck is that contraption doing on the lawn, Dicky? Looks like a single car garage. Is that one of your new projects?”
“Yes, it’s an exact replica of your vagina dear,” he quietly said to himself.
“What? I can’t quite hear you Dicky. A replica of some sort, you say?”
“I don’t know what it is, woman. That’s what we’re trying to find out. Don’t you worry your little mind over such things best suited for men to deal with. Go back into the house and tend to your flowers.”
“Yeah, no,” she replied and made a beeline for the contraption. “Let me have a look at it.” She shoved him aside with her strong but slender petite build. “Hey. You, in there. I’m Lady Darla and I want you to come out, right now. You won’t be harmed. I promise.”
“Look, there’s a ring of lights placed symmetrically around the door frame that just flashed on then off again,” said Captain Smith from a distance, pointing to the door frame.
“Good, now we’re getting somewhere,” said Lady Darla glancing at Captain Smith. Then she spoke at the door again. “We see your lights. If you need assistance or are injured, flash your lights twice for ‘yes’. Flash just once for ‘no’.”
The lights flashed twice. “Is there a way for me to get to you?” The lights flashed twice. “Is it through this door?” The lights flashed twice. "I see there is some kind of panel with numbers on it. Do I use that to open this door?” The lights flashed twice. “Okay, good. Give me the num – “
“Silly woman,” interrupted Lord Wadsworth. “A little panel with numbers on it won’t open that big door. It’s like the heavy vault door down at my bank.”
“Oh, and just how does one open a vault door, Dicky?” asked Lady Darla with sarcasm, then answered the question herself. “By way of a combination lock. Isn’t that right, Dicky?”
Lord Wadsworth responded with a low growl. “Have it your way, stupid woman.”
The door suddenly opened, apparently all by itself. Lady Darla was the first the enter the contraption. “Oh, my dear god”, she said upon arriving inside, seeing technology unbeknownst to her as being from a thousand years into the future. “My poor dear. You’ve wet your suit. Quite an odd-looking suit and hat, I might add. Very strange. Can you speak, dear? What’s your name?”
There was no response so Lady Darla gently shook her while speaking slightly louder. But still no response. “Maybe she’s dead,” suggested Lord Wadsworth, now standing behind Lady Darla, gazing over her shoulder.
Lady Darla leaned down and put her ear directly on the shield covering the woman’s face. “I can hear her breathing, so she’s alive. But why isn’t she waking up?”
Captain Smith entered now and all three looked about and pondered their surroundings, mystified by the strange technological mechanisms and electronics never before seen, even in the wildest of imaginations.
“It looks to me like she’s a pilot of some sort,” said Captain Smith, “and this is her ship of some kind, odd-looking as it is. The good news is that it looks like you’ve now got a potential storage unit for transporting your sports car across the Atlantic, on the Titanic, Dick.”
“Race car, dam it. It’s a race car, not a fucking sports car!”
“Don’t be so rude to your guest Dicky. Apologize please.”
“I’m sorry Smitty. I’m under a lot of pressure and this…this thing, whatever it is, just made the pressure a thousand times greater.”
“Understandable old boy. Not to worry. Nevertheless, perhaps Cutty and I can figure out a way to turn this into a transport container for your race car, if we’re left alone and undisturbed in here for half an hour or so.”
“What about her?” said Lady Darla. "She needs to be pulled out of here before you do anything.”
Lord Wadsworth pushed Lady Darla aside. “Looks like there’s some kind of tube apparatus connecting her to a mechanism of sorts.” He reached down and tried to disconnect it but it wouldn’t budge. “Smitty, can you go fetch Cutty and tell him to bring his toolkit?”
“I would be delighted to,” said Captain Smith as he stepped out and briskly walked toward the barn.
“Captain Smith,” Lady Darla called out. “Can you also fetch my maid, Iddins?”
“I’m right here, me Lady” said the house maid in her thick Irish accent, who just arrived on the scene to see what all the ado was about.
“Wonderful. Can you get some clean clothes for this poor lady, Iddins? She looks to be about the same size and build as you, although her breasts appear to be slightly larger."
“Yes, me Lady. Whatever you say.”
“Oh, and it appears she’s peed in that very uncomfortable looking suit, poor thing. Run a hot bath now so it’s ready when Cutty gets her free of this dreadful contraption.”
“Yes, me Lady. Straight away.” Iddins left for the house. Cutty arrived moments later with Captain Smith close behind and entered with toolkit in hand. He instantly became mystified, confused, and intrigued all at the same time.
“Cutty, see if you can disconnect that tube thingy so this young lady can be freed from her seat and removed from this dreadful contraption, whatever it is.”
“Yes, me Lady.” Cutty, who was always careful to use formalities when Lord Wadsworth was present, opened his tool kit and withdrew a pair of pliers, hammer, and a screwdriver. The woman, now referred to as the pilot, was free in seconds but still unconscious.
“Oh dear, it looks like that helmet of hers is connected to her suit in some way. Can you remove it Cutty?” Cutty did so and rested the helmet on the floor in front of the pilot’s seat.
“Oh my, she is quite beautiful,” said Lady Darla after the helmet and shield was removed. “Cutty, can you and the captain carry her up to the guest room?”
Lord Wadsworth intervened. “No. Cutty, you stay here and figure out how to get the Benz into this thing. The captain and I will be in the sitting room waiting for your report so make it quick.”
“Yes, me Lord. But straight off the bat, I would say the Benz will fit, but the most obvious problem is getting it into this contraption in the first place.”
“Figure it out Cutty and you’ll get an extra helping of slop for dinner tonight.” He turned to Captain Smith, standing only inches apart from Cutty. “Let’s get her upstairs, then we'll go to the sitting room for a generous helping of port, eh Smitty?"
“No argument here, Dick.” Both men lifted the pilot up from her seat and half carried, half dragged her out of the contraption and into the house. Lady Darla led the way, opening doors and moving objects to assist.