What She Would’ve Wanted

“Ruth Caldwell. Beloved Wife and Mother. 1916 to 1938,” read the stone mason, as he and Thomas Caldwell inspected the freshly carved tombstone. The stone mason turned to Thomas and said, “You sure you don’t want me to make one for the baby?”

Thomas glared at him, positive the mason just wanted to make another sale, and said, “I can’t afford another plot and stone. I’m having them buried together.” Thomas gazed at the tombstone again and sighed, “I’m sure she would’ve wanted it that way anyhow.”

Later on that day, when the sun had just set, Thomas was sitting in his local bar, staring into the empty glass of his third beer. He figured three more beers, and he’d be ready to walk outside, pull the snub-nose revolver out of his jacket pocket, and shoot himself in the head, so he lifted his glass to the bartender and said, “Hey, Mac.”

“Coming right up, Tom,” replied the bartender. As he was fetching Thomas a fresh beer, a song started playing on the large wooden radio behind the bar. It was a song Thomas’s wife liked to listen to, and she would dance around the kitchen every time it came on.

The bartender swapped out the empty glass in front of Thomas with a full one, and Thomas said, “Mac, you mind turning that thing off?”

The bartender looked back at the radio for a moment before swinging his head back around to Thomas. The request didn’t seem like something he really wanted to do, but he finally shrugged and said, “Yeah, sure thing.”

The bartender walked over to the radio, but before he could turn the knob to switch it off, the song stopped playing. There was some brief static, and a voice came on the radio and said, “We interrupt your regular programming to bring you an emergency broadcast from the United States Army. Unidentified aerial craft have been spotted all over the United States, including the Fort Wayne area of Indiana. Take shelter where you can and arm yourself if possible.”

The bar was still for a moment, then Frank Crowly, who was sitting closest to the window, shouted, “I can see ‘em!” Everyone in the bar ran to the windows, except for Thomas. He was still in a daze of disbelief. He walked over to the windows and couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw the lights streaking through the sky. 

Not long after, Thomas, with panic pulsing through his veins, was in his Ford Model 50, pushing the truck as fast as it would go through the night. Where he was headed, he didn’t know. When Thomas was a few towns out of Fort Wayne, another light zooming through the sky caught his eye, and when his eyes were back on the road, he saw a man in the path of his headlights, waving his arms. Thomas slammed on the brakes and swerved to narrowly miss the man in the road. He could see in his mirror the man approaching, so he rolled down his window and kept his hand on the gun in his jacket. As the man got close, Thomas said, “What’s wrong with you? Standing in the road like that – I could have killed you.”

“I need your help, mister,” said the man, desperately. He put his hands on Thomas’s door, and Thomas slid his finger onto the trigger of the gun. The man continued, “I need to find my wife.”

Thomas looked around them and asked, “What happened to her?”

“This is going to sound crazy, but I swear to it,” said the man. “We were sitting down for supper when, over the radio, we heard about aliens being spotted around here. Me and the missus didn’t believe a word of it, but next thing we knew, the damn aliens showed up at our house. The missus got struck with the polio a few years back. She don’t get around too good, even with her cane, so I ran out the house hollering, trying to get the aliens to follow me, you know. It worked, and I ran like hell. I was able to get the aliens off my heels, but when I made it back home, my wife wasn’t at the house. You have to help me find her, mister.”

Both men looked up at the sky as another light zoomed through it. Thomas looked at the man and said, “Listen, pal. I’m going to level with you. Your wife’s gone. I’m sorry to have to put it to you like that, but that’s the way it is, and she’s not coming back. I’m not sure where I’m headed, but you’re welcome to hop in the truck and ride with me. I’m sure it’s what she would’ve wanted.”

The man took a step back and said, “I need to find my wife, mister. I can’t be giving up. If you need to go about your business, I can’t hold it against you, but do me one favor. My house is just over yonder. If you see my wife up the road, give her a ride back here, will you? She’s a little thing with brown hair and eyes, and limps along everywhere with a cane. Her name is Margaret. Margaret Whitman. Friends call her Maggie. And I’m Henry, but friends call me Red.”

“Best of luck to you, Henry,” said Thomas, and he drove off into the night.

After driving for ten minutes, Thomas noticed something on the side of the road. At first glance, it appeared somewhat human, but seemed to have an extra appendage it used to move across the ground. Thomas had hoped he could get someplace safe and that the army would come in and eradicate all the aliens before he had to see any of them up close. But now he had to make a choice: would he do his best to avoid the alien and keep on driving, or would he turn into the alien and take one out for the home team? Thomas knew what he had to do, and in that moment, he had the courage to do it, so he turned the car on a collision course with the creature moving along the side of the road. As Thomas was about to hit his target, it turned around, and he saw it wasn’t an alien at all. It was a woman walking with a cane.

“Holy hell!” shouted Thomas, as he narrowly missed hitting the woman. His truck ran into a field as he slammed on the brakes. 

Thomas sat in his truck for a moment, trying to calm his nerves, when he heard the woman’s voice call from the road, “Hello? Hello? Are you all right?”

Thomas put his truck in park and got out. He walked cautiously over to the woman, saying, “Are you all right, ma’am? What are you doing out here by yourself? I could’ve hit you – walking on the road like that.”

Once Thomas got close to the woman, the moonlight revealed that, despite the cane, she was not an old bitty but a beautiful young woman with brown hair. She said to him, “My apologies, mister. I’m sure glad that you came along, though. I was at my home over yonder with my husband when…” and she looked up at the sky, cautiously, as if something were about to fall out of it. Thomas looked up, too, but at the moment there was nothing up there to be seen but the moon and the stars. The woman continued, “Have you been listening to the radio? We’re under attack from these creatures… Aliens, they call them. They came to my house. My husband – his name’s Red – he knew I wasn’t going to be able to outrun anything in this world or any other, so he ran off to get them to follow him away from the house. I wasn’t going to wait around for more of them to come, so I went out looking for my Red. Have you seen a man around here?”

“What?” said Thomas. “A man?”

“Yes, sir,” said the woman. Looking around at their surroundings, she continued, “I don’t know how I’m ever going to find him out here.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but you’re the first person I’ve seen out here in hours,” said Thomas. He stuck out his hand and said, “I’m Tom. What’s your name?”

“How rude of me. I’m just so flustered, you know,” said the woman. She shook Thomas’s hand while saying, “Whitman. Margaret Whitman.”

“Well, Maggie, you’re more than welcome to hop on in my truck and come with me,” said Thomas. “And who knows, we might even spot your husband up the road.” His gaze swept the road in a theatrical arc, and he continued, “Unless you’d prefer to stay out here all by your lonesome.”

Maggie looked down the long, dark road and said, “I really ought to find my husband.” Ten minutes later, Maggie was in the passenger seat of Thomas’s truck, staring out the window as if Red would materialize on the side of the road as they were passing by. He never did materialize, but Maggie did spot a service station in the distance.

There was no one at the service station, so Thomas and Maggie helped themselves to the leftover root beer, doughnuts, and pastries there. Thomas fueled up his truck, but decided the service station was as good a place as any to spend the night, and Maggie agreed.

Thomas was fast asleep on the office floor, wrapped in a blanket, when Maggie started shaking him awake. In his tired daze, Thomas could see that it was still dark out. Maggie whispered to him, “There’s something moving around in here.” All Thomas’s tiredness left him in an instant, as he heard something shuffling about in the service station outside the office door. He wasn’t sure what all it took to kill an alien, but he knew that he needed a weapon, and his jacket with the gun still in the pocket was on the desk on the opposite side of the room. 

Thomas stood up to go get it, but the moment he was on his feet, the door to the office swung open. “Don’t you move!” said the silhouette of a man standing in the doorway. The man flipped the light switch on the wall, and Thomas saw that the man was pointing a pistol at him.

“Take it easy, pal,” said Thomas, holding his palms up.

“We’re not aliens,” added Maggie.

With his pistol still fixed on Thomas, the man said to Maggie, “I can see that. What you folks might be is the ones with the keys to that truck out front, and I plan on taking that truck. Just give me the keys, and we won’t have no trouble.”

“Mister, please,” pleaded Maggie. “I can’t get around too good. If I’m left to walk, I won’t get far.”

“Huh, well, we wouldn’t want that,” said the man to Maggie. “And lucky for you, I could use a woman, especially a pretty little thing like you.” He looked at Thomas and said, “You don’t mind if I take your woman with me, do you?”

“You’re not taking her,” replied Thomas.

The man glanced briefly at his pistol and said, “You sure about that?”

“Mister, if you’re thinking about what I think you’re thinking about, you don’t want me for that,” said Maggie.

“Are you sure about that?” said the man back to her. “Those damn aliens are probably halfway through wiping out humanity. Somebody has to repopulate.”

“My husband will be looking for me,” said Maggie, “and I’m already carrying his baby.”

“What?” said Thomas, as his eyes shot to Maggie. “I didn’t know you were pregnant.”

A hand over her belly, Maggie looked back at Thomas and said, “I’ve already missed two of my monthlies, and I’ve been sick every morning. I haven’t even had the chance to tell my Red yet.”

“I don’t care,” said the man in the doorway. Thomas and Maggie both looked at him, and he continued, “Have that baby. We’ll be making plenty more. Now get up.”

“Hey, pal,” said Thomas, and the man glared at him. “You need the keys to the truck, right?”

“Let’s have ‘em,” replied the man. “Smooth and easy.”

Thomas slowly reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his keys. He said, “Here you go,” as he threw them underhand to the man in the doorway. As the man had his eyes on the keys and reached out to catch them, Thomas scurried across the office to the desk where his jacket lay. Once he reached the jacket, he dug his hand into the pocket that had the snub-nose revolver in it and turned to face the doorway.

Maggie screamed as the man in the doorway shot his pistol and landed a bullet right in Thomas’s belly. With his revolver still in his jacket pocket, Thomas fired twice while falling to the floor, and another bullet from the man in the doorway nearly missed his head. Sitting up against the wall, Thomas continued to point his gun at the office doorway, but his dueling partner was already dead on the floor. Thomas looked at Maggie, who was clearly crying, but all he could hear was ringing. Despite the ringing in his ears, Thomas could still hear Maggie’s voice in his mind saying, “I’m already carrying his baby.”

Not long after, Thomas was staggering out of the service station, with Maggie close by watching him anxiously. He got into his truck and started it. Getting into the seat next to him, Maggie asked, “Are you sure you should be driving?”

“Do you know how to drive?” asked Thomas.

“Well, no,” said Maggie. “But you’re in no shape. I’m sure I can find some medical supplies in the service station. Let’s just stay here. You shouldn’t be moving around.”

“I’m going to get you to where you need to be,” said Thomas as he pulled onto the road and started driving. “I know someone who can help you.”

“Help me?” said Maggie. “Tom, you’re the one who needs help. You’re driving in the wrong direction anyway. This is the direction we came from. There’s no one back there, remember?”

“Mrs. Whitman, please,” said Thomas. “We should be there soon. Just please let me drive.” Maggie huffed and shook her head. She grabbed the bottom of her dress and tore it, ripping off a good portion. She scooted close to Thomas and used the cloth to apply pressure on his gunshot wound.

After about half an hour, Maggie, her hand soaking in Thomas’s blood, said, “You can’t keep going on like this. My house should be around these parts. We can stop there and… Wait a minute. Is that…” Thomas saw him too. A man had run into the road ahead of them and was waving them down. “I think that’s my Red,” said Maggie.

Thomas slowed down and parked the truck, headlights still illuminating Red in front of them, as Red continued to make his way towards them. Maggie got out and limped with her cane to the front of the truck. Thomas saw Red take her into his arms, holding her as if he would never let her go again. Thomas saw no reason to ruin their moment; soon, he’d be gone anyway. He lay his head against the window and looked up at the dark sky. As he stared, lights streaked through the sky, and Thomas said faintly, “I’m sure she would’ve wanted it that way anyhow.”