The attendant looked up. "Farther south. Never heard of anyone this far north seein' one. They see plenty down toward Cambridge. Ask me, they're seein' spots in front of their eyes."
The boys exchanged glances. When the car was ready, Rick turned and started south again. "See any stores on the way where we could ask again?"
"There's a restaurant. I saw two grocery stores, too, but from the way the attendant talked, we'll have to get closer to Cambridge." Scotty was making a note in their notebook.
Five miles back toward home, Rick stopped at another gas station and asked the attendant to look at the oil. None was needed, so the boys bought another pair of Cokes and engaged the man in conversation.
"Ever see any flying saucers in this area?" Rick asked.
"Nope. My brother did though, late one afternoon when he was on duty."
Scotty took out the notebook. "We're trying to get some information about them for a story we're writing. Do you remember when it was?"
"Let's see. I was workin' in the evenin' that day, so it must have been a Saturday. Last month, it was. Oh, I recall it now. Next day I took the kids to my mother's. It was her birthday. That would make it the tenth."
"Where was your brother when he saw it?" Rick queried.
"Pumpin' gas. Right here. He said it sort of came up over the trees, glittering like fire." The attendant pointed to a patch of trees down the road. The direction was almost directly southwest.