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Man: He got the car started somehow. He got his car started!
Woman: How come his car just started like that?
Sally: All by itself. He wasn't anywhere near it. It started all by itself.
(DON approaches the group: He stops a few feet away to look toward GOODMAN's car and then back toward the group.)
Don: And he never did come out to look at that thing that flew overhead. He wasn't even interested. (He turns to the faces in the group.) Why? Why didn't he come out with the rest of us to look?
Charlie: He was always an oddball. Him and his whole family.
Don: What do you say we ask him?
(The group suddenly starts toward the house.)
Steve: Wait a minute... wait a minute! Let's not be a mob!
(The people seem to pause for a moment. Then, much more quietly and slowly, they start to walk across the street. GOODMAN stands there alone, facing the people.)
Goodman: I just don't understand it. I tried to start it, and it wouldn't start. You saw me. (And now, just as suddenly as the engine started, it stops. There's a frightened murmuring of the people.)
Don: Maybe you can tell us. Nothing's working on this street. Nothing. No lights, no power, no radio. Nothing except one car—yours!
(The people pick this up, and their murmuring becomes a loud chant filling the air with demands for action.)
Goodman: Wait a minute now. You keep your distance—all of you. So I've got a car that starts by itself—well, that's weird—I admit it. But does that make me a criminal or something? I don't know why the car works—it just does!
(This stops the crowd, and GOODMAN, still backing away, goes up the steps and then stops to face the mob.)
Goodman: What's it all about, Steve?
Steve (quietly): Seems that the general impression holds that maybe the people in one family aren't what we think they are. Monsters from outer space or something. Different from us. You know anybody that might fit that description around here on Maple Street?
Goodman: What is this, a practical joke or something?
(Suddenly the engine of the car starts all by itself again, runs for a moment, and stops. The people once again react.)
Goodman: Now that's supposed to make me a criminal, huh? The car engine goes on and off? (He looks around at the faces of the people.) I just don't understand it... any more than any of you do! (He wets his lips, looking from face to face.) Look, you all know me. We've lived here five years. Right in this house. We're no different from any of you!
Woman: Well, if that's the case, Les Goodman, explain why—(She stops suddenly.)
Goodman (softly): Explain what?
Steve: (cutting in): Look, let's forget this—
Charlie: Go ahead; let her talk. What about it? Explain what?
Woman (a little reluctantly): Well... sometimes I go to bed late at night. A couple of times... I'd come out here on the porch and I'd see Mr. Goodman here standing out in front of his house... looking up at the sky. (She looks around at the circle of faces.) That's right, looking up at the sky as if... as if he were waiting for something.
Goodman: She's crazy. Look, I can explain that. Please... I can really explain that. She's making it up anyway.
(He takes a step toward the crowd, and they back away. He walks down the steps after them, and they continue to back away. He's suddenly and completely left alone. He looks like a man caught in the middle of a menacing circle.)
