It wasn’t just my hands that turned green, but the skin on my face too. That’s why everyone was staring at me. At first I panicked, thinking I was turning into the Incredible Hulk, but Dad managed to calm me down. He told everyone I was having an allergic reaction. He reckoned the broccoli and stilton cup-a-soup that we’d had for lunch must’ve turned my skin a bright shade of green. Dad says I must be chlorophyll-intolerant, just like him.
My skin’s turned back to normal now. It only lasted for a few minutes, but I’m never eating broccoli again. So that’s a positive, I suppose.
The negative is all the jokes about little green men I’ve had to listen to as we gather round this flying saucer that’s still parked in the middle of the woods. Flip has brought us here for the final challenge of the day, the sun setting behind the trees casting a strange golden glow across the fake spaceship.
‘Don’t worry,’ Flip says as Amba pokes it with a pointy stick. ‘This flying saucer is just a sculpture. It marks the spot where a UFO was spotted here in Middlewich Forest, twelve years ago.’
One of the dads starts humming under his breath.
Doo-doo-DOO-doo, doo-doo-DOO-doo.
Flip just ignores this.
‘Was it aliens?’ Amba asks, keeping a tight grip on her stick.
‘Some people say it was just a shooting star,’ Flip replies mysteriously as the darkness in the forest grows. ‘Several eyewitnesses saw strange glowing spheres falling into the forest that evening but when the police went to investigate, all they found was a trail of phosphorescent footsteps leading from this clearing.’
Flip pauses, a spooky silence hanging over the woods as night creeps across the sky.
‘As the police followed the glowing trail, one of the officers claimed that she glimpsed the figure of a spaceman running through the trees. When she shouted for him to stop, the figure just vanished into thin air but, before he disappeared, the policewoman says she caught a glimpse of an alien face.’
As the shadows lengthen, Flip turns his gaze in my direction.
‘She says that it looked bright green.’
Some people start to giggle, thinking that Flip is making fun of me. I feel myself start to blush. I wish I hadn’t drunk that cup-a-soup . . .
‘So for your final challenge this evening,’ Flip continues, ignoring the giggles as Dad shuffles his feet next to me. ‘I’m going to send you on an alien hunt.’
A sudden flash of light makes everyone jump.
‘Sorry,’ Dad says as he waves his torch around. ‘Actually, don’t you think it’s getting rather dark? I’m not sure any kind of alien hunt is a good idea right now. There are a lot of trip hazards out there in the woods.’
‘And that’s why I gave you these torches,’ Flip replies, raising his hand to block out the torchlight’s glare. ‘Don’t worry, Mr Jones, the only danger you’ll face on this alien hunt is the possibility of missing out on a campfire treat.’
Flip gestures in the direction of the main campsite.
‘I’ve hidden some unidentified flying goodies on the trail through the trees. Bring any you find back to the yurt and we’ll have a feast there under the stars.’
Everyone else lights up their torches, the flashing beams showing which way to go.
‘Remember to keep your eyes peeled,’ Flip calls out, as we set off down the path. ‘The treasure is out there somewhere.’
Dad tries to put his arm around my shoulder, but I quickly shake it off.
‘I’m going to walk with my friends,’ I say, hurrying to catch up with Damon and Amba. The rest of the Dadventurers and Kidsplorers are already racing ahead, everyone eager to be first to find any extraterrestrial treats.
‘Hey, Jake,’ Amba says as I fall into step beside them. ‘Are you feeling better now?’
‘I’m fine,’ I say. ‘It was just some stupid allergy.’
‘It didn’t stop you showing off your Gym Star skills,’ she grins. ‘I thought you were going to end up in orbit when you started somersaulting across that obstacle course. Weren’t you scared?’
‘I was a bit at first,’ I reply, glancing back over my shoulder as Dad hangs back in a sulk. ‘But I couldn’t let my dad leave me in the shade again. Not after the school concert.’
‘It was out of this world,’ Amba says. ‘It almost looked like the two of you were flying.’
I grin, but before I can say anything else Damon chips in. ‘Do you think Flip was making up that story about a spaceman landing in the woods?’ he says, peering nervously into the trees. ‘Aliens don’t exist, do they?’
‘What about Roswell?’ Amba replies, flipping her torch up so it rests beneath her chin. The bright-white beam gives her face an unearthly glow. ‘A UFO crash-landed there years ago. Apparently they captured the aliens and took them to a top-secret military base at Area 51 to dissect them. Maybe the alien who landed here was a friend of theirs and came looking for revenge.’
‘Stop it, Amba,’ Damon scowls. ‘You’re spooking me out.’
Up ahead, the trail starts to twist and I watch the waving torch beams of the others slowly disappear from view. It’s getting darker and, as I glance up into the night sky, I see the stars are starting to come out. I think about the campfire feast that Flip has promised us and my stomach starts to rumble. That broccoli and stilton cup-a-soup now seems a long time ago.
‘Come on,’ I say. ‘We need to catch them up.’
‘Wait a second,’ Amba says, stopping dead in her tracks. ‘What’s that?’
At first I think Amba’s joking, still trying to give Damon a fright. But when I look through the trees in the direction that she’s pointing, I see a faint orange glow, almost hidden by the undergrowth.
The others must have missed this.
‘It must be an unidentified flying goodie,’ I grin. ‘An alien treat and I’m going to get it.’
Taking care not to slip, I head off the path in the direction of the light.
‘Be careful,’ Damon shouts.
The ground is muddy underfoot, soggy puddles hiding beneath the branches as I pick my way through the trees. The eerie glow gets brighter as I peel back the leaves, revealing a luminous Sainsbury’s bag that’s been left hanging from a low branch.
‘What is it?’ Amba calls out.
Reaching up to unhook the glowing bag, I open it up to take a look inside. I just hope it’s not a radioactive dog poo.
It isn’t.
The shining glow is coming from a bicycle lamp that’s been left inside along with an intergalactic surprise.
FUN-SIZE FLYING SAUCER MARSHMALLOWS, the packet says, a picture of a friendly green alien staring out of the front. THEY TASTE OUT OF THIS WORLD!
‘It’s definitely alien,’ I shout, reaching inside the bag to grab hold of the party pack of marshmallows.
And that’s when Dad comes running through the trees.
‘Get down, Jake!’ he shouts, pushing me to one side as he rips the glowing bag from my hands. I feel the packet split as it’s torn from my fingers, flying saucers soaring through the air as I slip and land face down in the mud.
SPLAT!
Spluttering in surprise, I lift my head to see a fleet of marshmallow spaceships floating in front of me in the muddy puddle. I’m soaking wet, slime clinging to my clothes as I scramble to my feet.
‘You – you pushed me!’
Dad shakes his head grimly as he keeps his gaze fixed on the glowing bag in his hand.
‘I saved you, Jake,’ he says, his silvery ski suit shimmering in the unearthly light. ‘Inside this bag is a piece of alien technology that could turn you into a pile of smouldering atoms.’
Cautiously reaching inside the bag, he pulls out the bicycle lamp. Its shining beam illuminates the look of surprise now spreading across Dad’s face.
‘Oh.’
His gaze swivels towards me, realization slowly dawning as he sees the mud-splattered marshmallows scattered around my feet. My clothes drip soggily on to this feast of flying saucers as my anger quickly grows.
‘Oh no.’