“Well, O.K.,” you tell Coleman. “But how are you going to stall him?”

Coleman cocks his head to one side and winks at you. “Just leave that to me.”

The two of you return to Bru, who springs out from behind the plum trees.

“Are we ready to go?” he asks.

“I'II need about ten minutes,” says Coleman. “My car battery i  dead, but I got a friend who owns a garage down the road, and he's on his way over with a new one.”

For a moment Bru says nothing. Then he curls up into a ball and springs five or six feet into the air. Sparks fly from his fur as he hovers only a few inches in front of Coleman's sunburned nose.

“Your thoughts are louder than your words,” says Bru. He drops for a second to the ground and then springs into the air next to you. Looking you in the eye, he says, “I'm disappointed.”

“But I haven't said anything,” you say.

“Sometimes,” says Bru, “it's a lie to say nothing.”

Without another word, he rolls himself up and begins to spin like a top. Suddenly the fast-moving, blurred shape hurtles over the sand dune, and Bru is gone.

You look at Coleman. He stands, head bowed, kicking up little clouds of sand. A moment later you hear the sound of screeching brakes. Glancing toward the road you see two men jumping out of a truck. One of them is carrying a TV camera. They run toward you. Coleman stands looking at them, arms outstretched.

There’s nothing to do now but to find your way home. You’ve missed your chance to make $10,000 fast. Worse than that, you’ve lost a friend you can never replace. At least you’ve learned quite a bit—on UFO 54-40 and right here on Earth.

/ENDING Nº07/