Hank half slept his way through another day of plowing. The sun burned luminous above him, and the large mason jar of drinking water he'd brought was almost empty. He finished a row, stepped off the tractor to relieve himself and the engine sputtered and died. Hank knew what it was: the magneto was acting up again.
The four-cylinder Allis Chalmers had been one of those purchases he regretted soon after making it. His old Case had never failed him. Hank had planned to get another Case, but the salesman convinced him that he'd like the Allis Chalmers better.
Hank zipped up, climbed up on the tractor and tried to get it started, but it wouldn't go. It was a long walk back to the house, and he cursed the tractor all the way home.
The next day he drove into town with the errant magneto in a wooden box on the seat next to him. He angle parked in front of Leamon's Tractor Service, grabbed the box and walked inside.
Hank waited patiently till Ed Turnbull finished telling Leamon how much he hated "that goddamned Harry Truman and no way was he votin' for him."
Ed nodded to Hank on his way out, still red-faced from his Truman diatribe.
"Whatcha got, Hank?" Leamon asked.
"Magneto trouble," Hank replied.
"We're kinda backed up on the rebuilds. How about I give you a loaner?"
"Much appreciated, Leamon."
Leamon went to the back room which was crowded with metal shelves filled with all kinds of tractor parts. He climbed on a stool and found a box with the word "magnetos" on it and took it down. In the box were three magnetos, all rebuilt. He grabbed one and headed back to the front desk.
"This one looks good as new," Hank said, as Leamon set the magneto down on the metal counter. "Maybe I should just buy it."
"Tell you what. Give 'er a try and if it's okay, then she's yours and we can settle up later."
On the way back to the farm, Hank glanced over at the magneto in the box and thought about the time his dad had replaced the magneto on the old tractor.
"What is that, Dad?" he'd asked. The magneto was about the size of a small loaf of bread. It had a curved housing with wires extending from it that went to the plugs.
"It's a magneto, a kind of generator--sends juice to the spark plugs."
"How's it do that?"
"It's like a reverse magnet, only you're creating current in the coil."
Hank had learned a lot about farming from his dad over the years, though he'd planned to go to teacher's collage instead of taking over the farm. His dad had died two weeks before FDR died, and Hank returned from the war to take over the two-hundred-acre farm. A marriage and two children later, his dreams of being a teacher were long gone.
Early the next morning his wife Loretta packed a lunch for him and sent him out the door with a peck on the cheek.
He had been plowing one of the farthest fields, so it took him a half hour to get to the forlorn tractor sitting where he had left it.
It didn't take him long to get the new magneto installed, and the Allis Chalmers fired up easily on the second try. Hank packed up his tools, stowed his lunch and climbed into the seat.
He pushed in the clutch, slid the gear in place and kicked up the throttle. As he was releasing the clutch, he saw a bright flash emanate from the magneto.
"Goddamn you Leamon!!" he shouted. He was about to shut the engine off when he saw what looked like red smoke coming from the magneto, but it wasn't smoke, it was more like a wave. It poured from the magneto with a low hum, almost as though it were alive.
He put the gear in neutral and jumped down for a better look. Hank was about to stick his finger in the red wave when a voice yelled, "What the hell are you doin'? Pokin' around at me?"
Hank jumped back, lost his footing and fell into a plow furrow.
"Who's there?" he called out, still lying in the dirt. The wave had grown and was now moving beyond the tractor across the field, casting a reddish tint to the places it covered. Hank didn’t know a lot about magnetos, but he was sure nothing like this ever happened with them.
"Where am I?" asked the voice.
Hank shook his head. That couldn't be a voice coming from the red wave; it had to be a mind trick. Maybe the sun had done him in. Maybe it was some leftover mental hiccup from the war. His unit had taken a tough beating at Anzio.
Then, in a clear voice the red wave spoke again. This time Hank knew he could not be imagining it.
"You still haven't answered me; where the hell am I? Oh, and while we're at it, how did you snag me? Actually, lucky you did because I was being chased by a bunch of grelfs."
Hank got up and walked toward the red wave. He cautiously stuck his hand in it, ready to pull back at any moment. His bare hand was immediately sheathed in a tight-fitting red glove. He withdrew his hand from the wave and the glove disappeared.
That's when he saw the outline of the figure. The longer he looked the more detail he could make out. The stranger was about his height, had a long, thin face and wore a red outfit that was skin tight. He also had what looked like a white gun in a holster and wore a red helmet with big bulges where the ears were located.
"Do you have a hearing problem?" the ghostly red figure asked.
"Um, no. It's just that, well, I'm not sure what's going on."
"You snatch me out of my world and bring me to this . . . this land of the sod and then pretend you're not sure what's going on?"
"Who are you?" Hank asked.
"Zedwiah. Warrior, hero, blah blah blah. I'm sure you care."
"Name's Hank. Has this got something to do with my magneto?"
"What's a magneto?"
"It sends--"
"Never mind. How are you going to send me back?"
"Send you back where?"
"Oh, I get it. Being cagey, are we? Are you working with Vanderplaka?"
"Who's Vanderplaka?" Hank asked. It was unbelievable. Here he was leaning on his tractor tire talking to a ghost named Zedwiah.
"Of course you wouldn't admit to being one of his minions, but I'll play along. Vanderplaka is a villain, the worst villain imaginable. When he unleashes the grelfs, his minions, it can be quite scary. Vanderplaka and I fight all the time. He never quite gets me, I never quite get him. That's how the game is played."
"What game?"
"Do you ever ask a question that rises above what or who?"
"I have no idea what's going on here. I'm supposed to be plowing, yet I'm standing here talking to my magneto."
Zedwiah started laughing. "I think I see what's going on. Vanderplaka has transported me to another reality where the men dress funny and operate large plodding machines. I'm lulled into thinking I'm safe. When I finally relax my guard, you will disable me with your magnetotron. Vanderplaka is a clever one but I prefer to fight on Orm, where at least you can see the distant mountains of Illian."
"Where is Orm?"
"I will say no more." Zedwiah looked around and shouted, "Show yourself, Vanderplaka. The game is up. Your magnetotron man failed in his mission."
It struck Hank that he was having a "spell," and that maybe he should go back to the house and lie down.
"Well, whatever you are, I'm taking my tractor and going home," Hank said, climbing into the seat. "Oh, just so you know, when I was in the army I never failed at any mission. When the sarge said, 'We're gonna take that pillbox.' I was right there beside him."
Zedwiah jumped up and stood on the engine housing. "And what exactly do you plan to do with me?"
"Nothing, I guess. I didn't ask you to come here. One thing for sure, I'm taking that magneto back to Leamon."
Hank got the tractor turned around and then he heard a shriek from Zedwiah.
"I think we've got a problem, Hank," Zedwiah said, as he sat on the engine housing with his legs crossed. "Take a look." He pointed to the red wave that now extended across Hank's field and into the forest bordering it. "I think you may have unleashed something."
Shapes began to emerge from the red wave. At first they were just billowing, organic shapes, almost like misshapen bubbles, but then they soon took on a more definite shape. One of the bubbles formed itself into a multi-colored four-legged creature that to Hank looked something between a giraffe and a moose.
"What's that?" Hank asked, as they watched the strange creature pull itself free from the base of the wave and gallop away.
"That would be a neeve," replied Zedwiah. "They run wild on Orm. They have brilliant minds, the ability to grow wings and fly––and have been known to be cryptic and subversive."
"And what's this neeve doing on my property? It just can't run loose, you know."
"I don't think that's your biggest problem, Hank. Look over there."
Zedwiah pointed to a place in the field where the red wave split, with one half remaining red and the other turning blue.
From this blue wave an amorphous shape grew and grew and then formed into a hulking, two-legged, three-headed creature with one arm coming out of its central mouth.
"My god," said Hank. "Is it dangerous?"
"Only if you think about it?"
"How am I supposed to not think about it?"
"I count grelfs. That seems to help."
"What do you call those creatures?" Hank asked.
"Spegltors. They can run very fast, but sometimes they trip on that arm coming out of their mouths. Omigod, here come the grelfs."
Bursting out of the blue wave were bulbous-headed creatures with transparent skin and four long legs.
"Those are grelfs?"
"As sure as neeves love a pedicure."
The red wave engulfed Hank's tractor, transforming it into a sleek winged craft with a cockpit.
"My tractor!" Hank cried and turned and ran.
Zedwiah called after him. "Where are you going, Hank? You're not being very helpful!"
Hank ran all the way home and burst through the kitchen door. Loretta was making a raisin pie and the kids were in the living room playing.
"Grab the kids, honey. We gotta go. Right now!"
Loretta steadied her wheezing husband and asked him what was going on.
"No time. Come on. Into the truck."
"I'm not leaving till you tell me what's going on."
"Honey, if you don't want to be eaten by a spegltor or a grelf, then I think we best get goin'."
"Have you gone crazy? You're going to scare the children."
Then the house shook. Hank and Loretta ran outside to find Zedwiah in the silver flying ship firing on a spegltor that was eating Hank's equipment shed.
The yellow lasers from the ship hit the spegltor square in the central head and he crashed to the earth.
"I got it, Hank!" Zedwiah yelled triumphantly.
"Who is that?" Loretta asked, pointing to the red-suited man.
"That's Zedwiah. He came out of my magneto. It's hard to explain."
Zedwiah came forward and bowed graciously. "Madam, it's a pleasure to meet the consort of Hank."
"Hank, you need to tell me what is going on," Loretta said.
"Well, there's this Vandersomething guy and--"
Zedwiah jumped in to help. "Yes, Vanderplaka is his name, and he's completely evil. I have been battling him forever."
"I see," Loretta said.
"In fact, you've just given me an idea, Hank. Maybe together we can defeat him. Me with my new space ship and you with your magnetotron. What do you think?"
"I'm done with war," Hank replied.
"Hank, let's get in the truck and drive to town. I'll get the kids."
"That might be difficult," Zedwiah said. "When I was flying over, I noticed that the road to town has been transformed into a large lake and now Vanderplakaian naval vessels are plying its waters. You probably couldn't make it into town."
"What should we do?" Hank asked.
"First of all, we need to find Vanderplaka. I'm sure he's nearby. Then we turn to the bright light of your double sun--oh, you only have one sun, sorry--give a little speech and then we fight him."
"As I said, I'm done with fighting," Hank said.
"But with your magnetotron we can destroy him."
"The magneto sends juice to the plugs. How's that going to destroy anyone?"
"Juice to the plugs. I like that one. I can just see it now. Vanderplaka and me standing on a battle platform, facing off for the final fight and I say, 'Vanderplaka, if you do not bow before me, I will take Hank's magnetotron and send juice to your plugs.'"
Loretta ran inside and grabbed the kids, while shouting for Hank to get in the pickup.
Hank jumped in the driver's seat and watched in his side mirror as the wave transformed their chickencoop into a piece of field artillery that appeared to be manned by short elf-like creatures. They began firing their bright orange shells into the distance.
"What are they firing at?" Hank asked, leaning out the window.
Zedwiah glided over to the pickup. "The Seventh Grelf Legion. That's who they usually fire on. They're highly skilled at their jobs. I'm sure they'll wipe out the Seventh, though later on the Seventh will re-constitute itself and attack again."
"You should kill your enemy for good? When we fought the Jerries, we made sure they were dead," Hank said.
"Now that would be interesting. You destroy your enemy to the point where they don't come back. Very clever, Hank. I am liking this idea."
Loretta came rushing out of the house with the kids and everyone piled into the pickup.
Instead of turning right out of the driveway and toward town, they turned left and raced down the gravel road.
It was the only direction that had not been covered by the red and blue wave. Hank worried that the waves wouldn't stop until all of America was one big Ormian battlefield. He imagined spegltors smashing up the White House and chuckled to himself as he envisioned Harry Truman running outside with a shotgun yelling, "Come on! I'll kill all you sonsofbitches!!"
Zedwiah pulled up beside Hank in his silver flying machine. He got out of the cockpit and sat on the wing talking to Hank.
"Hank, I just took a quick look at your town and I think you were wise not to go there. Vanderplaka has turned it into a MFG. That means more trouble."
"And what the hell is a MFG?" Hank asked.
"It's a Molecular Field Generator. It means that he can generate more of his minions."
"And what happened to the folks there?"
"They may still be there but will be operating on a different level of reality, so no major harm done."
"You turn our town into a military base, probably rapin' and pillagin' and you say no major harm done?"
"What's roping and pelicaning? Never heard of such things."
"Never mind," Hank replied, pulling into a gas station.
The owner came running out with a shotgun. He took one look at Zedwiah and his silver ship, raised the weapon to his shoulder and fired. The pellets flew harmlessly through Zedwiah and the ship and embedded themselves in a cow across the way. The cow fell over in mid-cud chew.
"Hank, what the hell's happenin?" the man asked, reloading. Zedwiah watched him calmly.
"Some kind of invasion, Buddy. It's crazy," Hank replied.
"That blue wave come across the field," Buddy said, unloading both barrels at Zedwiah as they talked, "and turned my stove into this glass bird that flew away."
"Best get out of here, Buddy."
"And who's that feller? Shoot 'im and nothing happens," Buddy said, pointing at Zedwiah.
"He's with 'em, but he's one of the good ones."
As they spoke, Buddy's house and garage were absorbed by the blue wave and from it emerged a barge-shaped ship with a long-barreled gun manned by mice-headed men. The barge skidded across the field and disappeared over a hill.
"Where's it goin'?" Hank asked Zedwiah.
"Vanderplaka must be in that direction. They're going to do battle, along with a regiment of burrowers."
"Burrowers?"
"Yes, they're a funny little creature with stone-like teeth and big mouths. They can burrow through rock or anything. I must go. The battle is about to begin."
"Well, good luck."
Hank climbed back in the pickup and suggested to Buddy that he hightail it out of there, but Buddy wasn't moving.
Hank sped away, spinning stones and fishtailing till he got the pickup straightened out. He and his family looked at the surreal landscape unfolding before them. Where there had been cornfields, there were now octagonal towers that had to be over a thousand feet high. Where there had been a farm set back off the road, there was now a slingshot device that hurled fiery balls high into the air and over a couple of ridges.
They were a quarter mile from the Interstate when the road just ended.
"What happened to the road?" Loretta asked, as they got out of the pickup.
The road, freeway ramp, fields and farms had been transformed into a desolate abyss of blackened trees and shell holes.
"Hon, I think this is where they're going to fight," Hank said.
"Look over there, Dad," Hank's son said. He pointed to a movement to their left.
"Looks like an army on the march," Hank replied.
And from the right came another army. Both armies were marching toward each other: red and blue on a collision course.
From the sky above them, Zedwiah dropped down in his silver flying ship. "Stirring sight, isn't it? This is where we're going to do battle. No battle platform this time. We're going to fight on . . . raw earth! Vanderplaka and his minions against me and my, er, minions. He's got grelfs, spegltors and a bunch of other baddies."
"What have you got?" Hank asked.
"The neeves, burrowers and an army of bloots. Look, here come the bloots!"
Sure enough, coming up the valley to the right of Hank and his family were red and yellow striped creatures that propelled themselves by the motion of hair-like follicles on their underbellies. The bloots had elongated bodies and a head dominated by a convex eye. Tufts of hair protruded from the top of their heads.
"What can those critters do?" Hank asked.
"Bloots swarm an enemy, trapping them with their masses of hair and confusing them and then absorbing them."
"Absorbing them?"
"A bloot can absorb three times its weight in grelfs."
"And what do you do?" Loretta asked.
"I will fight Vanderplaka in personal combat."
"I just want my tractor back!" Hank yelled, as Zedwiah flew off to lead his army.
Hank and his family watched as the two forces smashed together at the midway point in the valley, creating a melee of color.
"Who's winning?" Hank's daughter asked.
"Damned if I know," Hank replied.
"Honey, don't swear in front of the kids."
"Sorry."
At one point a flanking move by the grelfs and spegltors overwhelmed a mass of bloots, but then a reserve force of bloots moved forward and absorbed the grelfs. The spegltors ran. Overhead neeves circled.
"Red seems to be winning," Hank's son said.
"Except over there to the left where the blues just chased that bunch of reds away," his sister replied.
"I hate war," Loretta said.
Hank looked at her. "Honey, this ain't war. This is sheer craziness." And then the two armies parted and there appeared a man dressed in a tight blue outfit with a blue helmet and a white holster.
"Must be Vanderplaka," Hank said.
Opposite him stood Zedwiah. They circled each other and they spoke in amplified tones, both turning to face the sun before speaking.
"This is your last battle, Vanderplaka," Zedwiah said. "One of us will remain standing after this battle and it won't be you!"
"If it's a fight you want, it's a fight you'll get. Today I will defeat you and claim dominion over all of Orm," Vanderplaka said, as they continued to circle. There was much stirring of grelfs and bloots on the sidelines.
"When this is over and I am lord and master of Orm, I will send messengers throughout the land hailing the death and demise of Vanderplaka."
Vanderplaka reached for his holster and produced not a gun, as Hank expected, but a glowing ball. He hurled it at Zedwiah, who dropped from sight into the earth. The ball exploded in a bright flash. Large-mouthed creatures suddenly burst from the ground spewing rock and gravel.
"Must be the burrowers," Hank said.
Zedwiah thrust his head out of a burrower hole and leaped to his feet behind Vanderplaka, spun the blue-suited one around and punched him square in the nose. He flew backward and arced up into the blue sky and exploded in a brilliant flash of fireworks, but Vanderplaka reconstituted himself as if nothing had happened.
He rushed at Zedwiah, who stood his ground. The two heroes fought, each giving little to his opponent. Not satisfied that the fight was fair, Vanderplaka called in two massive spegltors to help him. They surrounded Zedwiah and began hurling caramel boulders at him.
Hank could take no more. He reached into the back of the pickup and pulled out a baseball bat.
"Honey, what do you think you're doing?" Loretta asked.
"Helping a friend."
Hank stepped into the red wave and his farmer clothes were replaced by a tight-fitting red suit with red gloves. The children gasped when they saw their dad clad in such body revealing wear. Loretta spun the kids around and told them not to look at daddy.
What had been a baseball bat was now a copper-colored device that to Hank looked like a cross between a deer rifle and a magneto. It had a trigger. That was all he needed to know. He marched toward the center of battle, but didn't get far because a flying neeve swooped down and asked him if he wanted a ride.
Hank jumped up on the neeve, surprised at his agility, and the neeve flew up and across the battlefield.
In a voice that wasn't his own but came from his mouth, Hank yelled, "Zedwiah, I am Farkowok, your trusted sidekick. I have come to your aid."
"Just in time!" cried Zedwiah, dodging a chunk of caramel.
A yellow light started blinking on Hank's weapon and he knew that it meant he was now in range. He shouldered the magnetotron and aimed at one of the spegltors. He pulled the trigger and a burst of red flame shot out engulfing the spegltor, disintegrating it. He took down the other spegltor the same way. The neeve let out a nervous laugh that symbolized its joy.
A phalanx of grelfs attacked Zedwiah from the rear but Farkowok repulsed them.
"Throw me the magnetotron, Farkowok!" yelled Zedwiah.
Urging the neeve to drop down, Farkowok tossed the still primed magnetotron to Zedwiah who leveled it at Vanderplaka and fired.
The impact knocked Vanderplaka spinning high into the air. The bloots rolled on their backs to watch, as they had limited vision in the upper quadrant.
Vanderplaka expanded in all directions at once. Then, as his jaw shook, he yelled, "This is not over, Zedwiah! I will return."
Vanderplaka exploded into tiny points of light and disappeared.
Having witnessed this, the grelfs and spegltors ran.
Farkowok flew down to Zedwiah and dismounted the neeve.
"A fine day's work, Zedwiah," Farkowok said, giving him an Orm handshake, which turned out to be spitting on the other's boot.
"Thank you, Farkowok. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't appeared. Did you suffer any wounds?"
"A grelf grazed me, but other than that I am okay."
"What will you do now?" Zedwiah asked.
"Return to my, um . . ."
"Your family, Farkowok."
Together they walked over to the pickup. When Farkowok stepped outside the red wave he reverted to Hank. Loretta and the kids rushed over to him.
She said, "Honey, if you dressed like that all the time, I'd have to--God forgive me for using the word--divorce you."
"They were a little tight, hon. I do prefer my overalls."
One of the kids pointed to the field of battle. "Look, they're leaving."
It was true. The two armies were marching away: grelf with bloot, bloot with burrower."
Zedwiah shook his head, "Grelf with bloot. You don't see that too often."
"So is Vanderplaka dead?" Hank asked.
Zedwiah laughed. "Hank, you're a funny man. I think even Vanderplaka would find that funny. No, he will be reconstituted on a planet distant from Orm and will return with twice the strength. He will catch me unawares and trap me in ice and then--"
"Okay, we get it."
"Honey, the kids are hungry," Loretta said. "We need to go."
"I'm glad you won your battle, Zedwiah, but I got a family to feed so we'll be seein' you around."
"I couldn't have done it without you, Hank."
Hank got in and started the pickup. He looked in the rearview mirror and saw a tractor coming up the road.
Zedwiah waved to the kids as Hank swung the pickup around and pulled up beside the tractor. The old geezer on the tractor bent down to talk to Hank and let his foot slip off the clutch.
The tractor coughed a couple of times and died. In that moment there was a loud humming sound, like a plane engine revving. A kaleidoscopic wave of colors rushed from the fields surrounding them and raced up the ditch, across the road and into the tractor's magneto. Smoke and bright electric light poured from it.
"Look, Dad!" one of the kids yelled.
The battlefield before them was disappearing, the critters were melting into the wave, and the family watched as grelf after grelf and bloot after bloot slipped into the wave. The towers, the mice-headed men and the Vanderplakaian navy all disappeared.
Zedwiah landed his silver ship beside the pickup and hurried over to Hank. "I think we're saved, Hank. We're all heading home. I can feel myself breaking up."
Hank looked down and Zedwiah's foot was now just a wavy mush.
The farmer hammered on his steering wheel and cursed his magneto as he tried to get the tractor started.
Spegltors, burrowers and every creature from the land of Orm was soon just a blip in the fast moving wave that hurtled into the rusty magneto.
As the bottom half of Zedwiah disappeared, Hank said, "You take care now."
"I will, Hank. Oh, my, I think I'm going."
The kids gave a nervous wave and then Zedwiah was gone.
When the last of the blue and red waves disappeared into the farmer's magneto, the engine started with no problem and he drove away.
"Honey, is that our tractor?" Loretta asked, pointing behind them.
"Well, I'll be. It is." There stood the Allis Chalmers on the side of the road. Cars suddenly appeared and honked their horns for Hank to clear the way.
"Dad, can I drive it home?" his son asked.
Hank shook his head. "No, you're too young. Loretta, you drive this. I'll meet you back at the farm later."
"Do you think it's over?" she asked.
"I think so, hon."

•

A few days later Hank was back plowing, having exchanged the magneto.
"What's wrong with it, Hank?" Leamon had asked.
"I just want another one, Leamon. That's all."
"Suit yourself."
Hank had no trouble with the new magneto and when he asked if anyone had noticed anything strange around town over the last few days, everyone gave him a puzzled look.
"You didn't see funny colored creatures runnin' about?" he asked Myrna, while sitting at the coffee shop.
"Well, Hank, Bob Wilkinson said he saw an albino pig over in Sparta County last week."
Weeks passed and one evening Hank and the family were sitting on the sofa watching TV when the picture went blank for a few seconds and then returned. Now, instead of Milton Berle, the setting had changed to a circular room with a man suspended in what looked like ice.
"Honey, what happened to Uncle Milty?" Loretta asked.
"I don't know," Hank replied, looking closely at the images on the screen.
"Change it back."
"Wait a minute. I know this guy."

Trapped in ice was none other than Zedwiah, in his tight outfit and helmet.
Though frozen in the ice, he was able to speak, "Vanderplaka thinks he's got me, but what he doesn't know is that under my helmet is a new weapon I discovered during my many travels. I will free myself and defeat him with my garageopeneratron, a device that can render him powerless."
Loretta pointed her finger at Zedwiah and said, "That looks like whatshisname."
Hank got up and changed the channel.

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