By Butch Mockler

The real estate agent was wearing the wrong shoes. She stood on the muddy, craggy path in a pair of open-toed wedges. The man she was showing the property to stood looking around in appropriate footwear. He didn’t own any footwear that wouldn’t have been appropriate. 

“So as you can see, it’s a totally raw piece of land. There’s seven and a half acres. There’s a hundred feet of road frontage, and the back of the property abuts a nature preserve. The neighboring properties do have homes on them, but they’re set back a ways, so it’s a very private parcel.”

The man stood silently. “It’s a beautiful piece of land,” he finally said. “It’s just…um, what can you tell me about this thing?” He pointed behind her at the thirty-foot-diameter silver orb that hovered silently ten feet above the ground in a clearing in the pines. 

She turned around. “Oh.” She looked in her folder. “Yes, so apparently there is an interdimensional portal on the property.”

“Ok…what does that mean? Does this thing come with the property?” 

The orb shot straight up in the air at an impossible speed. 

“How often does that happen?”  

Before the agent could answer, another object appeared suddenly and silently, this one shaped like a giant spearhead pointed up to the sky. 

“Another one?”

The agent checked the folder again. “It says here that the seller has been hunting this property since he was a kid, and the portal has been here as long as he can remember. Sometimes he doesn’t see anything for years, and sometimes it’s one right after the other. He says right now is a busy time. He hasn’t seen it this busy since the Iran-Contra Affair.”

The spearhead shot into the air, and a second later a giant set of metal breasts appeared. They spun around incredibly fast for a second, stopped as suddenly as they had started, and disappeared.

“There’s great soil here. Great to build on, and a great perc test.”

“Ok, that’s great, but I’m a little concerned about this portal. Has it been tested? I mean, is there radiation or something I need to worry about? I’ve got kids. What if one of them wanders into the portal zone when one of these things appears? Does my kid explode? Does he get transported to the Andromeda Galaxy?”

She checked the folder. “So they’ve had the portal tested, and there are no toxic fumes, chemicals, or radiation associated with the portal.” 

A giant metal acorn appeared, spun around, then shot upwards. 

“Doesn’t say anything about what happens if someone’s standing in the portal. Maybe you can build a fence around it, just to be safe.”

“Well, what about the government? I don’t want the NSA finding out about this and kicking me off the property so they can study it.”

She scanned the folder. “They know.”

“They know?”

“They’ve been here, they’ve checked it out.” She shrugged. “They know.”

“How doesn’t the whole world know about this?”

“This is Maine. A lot of stuff happens here that the whole world doesn’t know about.”

The man thought for a second. “How much are they asking?”

“$149,000.”

“You think I could get ’em down to $130K because of the whole portal thing?”

“Let’s go in at $125K. I’ll get the paperwork started.” The agent closed the folder and searched for a foothold with her wedge.