Paper Men

written by Lisa Paul and Nora Paul

Stuart sat up in bed, gasping. Slowly, his eyes adjusted as he came fully awake, and his breathing slowed. Just a dream, he thought, and laid back down. He glanced at the clock. It was 3:14 a.m., just as it was each time he had the nightmare. He knew he wouldn’t sleep anymore tonight.

The dream was so real. It always started the same way. In the dream it was evening and he was outside. He was waiting for something, but he didn’t know what. While he stood outside, the wind began to blow and the sky to darken. He could feel the warmth of the evening flee, and an oppressive cold pressed in around him. The leaves on all the trees dried up in a few seconds and fell to the ground or blew away. The trees were now bare. He was freezing and he was afraid. Something bad was happening. The sky turned an eerie shade of yellow. He was looking all around, afraid someone would come up behind him, but when he tried to move, to go back into his house, he couldn’t. Something was coming!

Then he saw them, the paper men. They had on black suits with white shirts and neckties. Black top hats sat on their heads. They were thin and tall and so quiet, at least at first. The most terrifying thing about them was their faces. They had large, black eyes like the round eyes of an insect. All you could see of their skin was their faces and necks, which were a frightening sight. Their skin looked like dried-up corn husks, wrinkled and dry like old paper and stretched long. They had no mouths, and yet they could speak to him, and the sound of their voices in his head was like a chittering noise, clicking and scraping or buzzing. He couldn’t understand them, but he knew he had to stop them.

Stuart went into the office early that day. He was drinking his third cup of coffee when he received a call from his father, Don. “Hello, Dad. What’s new?”

“Not much. I was just thinking about you and I would like to see you. Would you come here for dinner tonight?” Don asked. Stuart agreed and they hung up.

Stuart arrived at Don’s at five o’clock sharp. He was greeted by his mother, Betty, and they walked into the kitchen where Don was finishing dinner. They each carried a dish to the table and ate and talked, catching up. Stuart had not seen his parents for a couple of months. After dinner, Betty began clearing the table and Don asked Stuart to follow him. They went into Don’s study and Stuart sat in a chair near the bookcase. His father sat near him.

“Stuart, let me get right to the point. I need to ask you a question and I’d like it if you would answer honestly. Have you had any strange dreams lately?” Don asked and Stuart’s eyes widened as he looked at his father. He nodded.

“Yes, I have. Nightmares, actually. Off and on for about a month.”

“Okay, it’s okay,” Don said in a soothing voice. He paused, thinking. “I am going to have to tell you a story that you may find hard to believe, but I need you to try and suspend that disbelief until I am done, and save any questions for then, too. Okay?” Stuart nodded. Don leaned forward and pulled on the spine of a copy of “War of the Worlds” by H.G. Wells and the bookcase began to move. Stuart jumped up and took a step back. Don stood and pushed the bookcase open like a door, revealing a safe. He punched in a combination and the door to the safe opened, and Don reached inside and brought out a wooden box the size of a shoebox, but it looked very old and it had designs engraved all over it. Don carefully carried the box over to his desk.

“I have had the same nightmare as you these past few weeks,” Don began, “how do I know its the same dream? Because the men in our family have had the dream for many generations. The men in our family have been chosen. We are all that stands between the paper men and our world.” Don opened the box and Stuart looked inside. The box was lined with black velvet. Inside was a small golden bowl and inside the bowl was a jewel that appeared to be a ruby. Next to the jewel was a piece of smooth, golden brown wood. Don picked up the piece of wood and it grew in his hand to become a four foot long staff. At the top of the staff was a triangle-shaped indentation. Don picked up the jewel and held it to that indentation and the jewel became part of the staff, and it began to glow. Don turned to Stuart. “When faced with those creatures, you must hold the staff upright and face the jewel toward them. The staff will destroy them.”

Stuart wanted to run away. Was this man his father, talking about killing creatures? Could this be real, or had his father gone crazy? No, he thought, I’ve seen them, the paper men and my dad has never lied to me. “What are they, the paper men?” he asked, “and how can they hurt us, since they’re only in a dream?”

“We have been given a gift of the nightmares as a warning. When the nightmares get more frequent, we know they are coming. The paper men are from another planet, and, son, they are not made of paper but of some alien flesh that is able to heal itself within seconds. Bullets don’t kill them. Even an explosion isn’t certain to kill them. I don’t know where this staff came from, or what exactly is in the jewel, or the wood, but it is the only thing that can destroy them utterly. This staff will only work for you and I now, because we are the last men of our family line. If someone else holds the staff, it is just a piece of wood with a pretty bauble on top. Do you understand?”

“So far, yes, if I assume you’re not a madman and all this is true. But when are they coming? How many will there be? There are only three in my dreams.”

“They send scouts to the earth to determine if we are still around or if our line has died out. The last time they came, I was ten and your grandfather and I had to battle them. That was fifty-five years ago. I wondered if they would ever return. If the scouts don’t return, then the aliens in charge assume that we destroyed the scouts and the paper men will not come to inhabit our earth. This is how it was explained to me, and I don’t know much more to tell you. We can’t know how many scouts they will send. It could be a few teams of three, or a hundred. We have to be ready.”

“How will we find them?” Stuart asked.

“Oh, don’t worry. They will find us.”

“Doesn’t the government have to know about this? Where are all the soldiers or whoever kills aliens? Where are they now?”

“Don’t worry, they have been alerted. There is a special number to call when the dreams start. I will give it to you. There are troops on standby at the airfield. They can be here in minutes. Even though they can’t destroy the aliens, they can hurt them long enough to keep us alive. Anyway, that’s always been the plan.” Don walked over to Stuart and hugged him. “I know this is a lot. I’m trusting you to do your duty and help me destroy these aliens. When you hold the staff, there’s a drain on you, I felt it when I was younger. You need someone to take over holding the staff if you feel too weak. That is why we have always had father-son teams. To take turns when there are a lot of them coming at you.”

“Of course, Dad, of course I will do my duty. I would be proud to.”

Stuart stayed at his father’s house that night. Don woke him up at 2:30 a.m. and they dressed, then both went quietly through the house to the study. Don opened the bookcase and safe and removed the box. He put together the staff and together they went out onto the street. It was July, but it was freezing outside. Don held the staff in front of him as they watched for any movement. In the distance, they could see the silhouette of three paper men coming down the street towards them. The paper men had long strides, and covered ground quickly. Don told Stuart to stand behind him. Stuart could see the jewel glowing brighter, as Don held the staff so the jewel pointed at the aliens. Without a sound, a red ray shot out of the jewel, and Don moved the staff so the light covered the aliens. The paper men blew up soundlessly, like something in a movie, and their dust covered the street. Suddenly, like they appeared from thin air, there were dozens of soldiers on the street, all dressed in black. They converged on the dust, sweeping it up and putting it in containers. One of the soldiers with a lot of gold patches on his shoulders and an insignia that Stuart had never seen before, came over and spoke to Don in a quiet voice. Don nodded and grabbed Stuart by the arm and herded him back into the house.

“They think that is all for tonight,” Don said, once inside. “You can try and get some rest.” Don was dismantling the staff and putting it away. Stuart just stood there stunned. “Stuart, I know this is a lot to take in, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t talk to you briefly about another very grave situation.”

“Another situation? What now?” Stuart asked.

“Son, you’re almost forty years old, and you don’t have any children. I’m going to need you to get on that. You know, it can take awhile to get a son.” Don hugged Stuart, who was speechless, “Now go to bed and get some rest.”

Stuart walked to his room, thinking, okay, I’m an alien killer. Okay cool. But now I gotta find a wife? He didn’t know which would be more difficult.

Weekly Writing Prompt