I wasn't
supposed to be there. I should have been
spending a romantic weekend with my fiancée --
former fiancée as of about an hour before
-- but the planned tryst turned out to be a bad
idea. I took off from work a couple hours early
and found Earl and his other girlfriend
sunbathing, nude, by the pool. And in rather
close quarters. There was, of course, a scene.
He yelled and I broke his nose and shoved the
engagement ring so hard on his little finger
they'd probably have to cut it off.
Then I got in
my Jeep and headed for my desert home, far away
from the busy metropolis of Barstow. The sunset
fell in an array of stark reds and unnatural
purples as wild clouds blew fast over the open
desert. I could see lightning strikes coming
closer on my left. Rain hit, leaving dusty
trails of muck on my windshield.
I cursed the
weather, Earl, and life in general. I wasn't
exactly hysterical with grief over the
unexpected demise of my engagement. I was, I
reluctantly admitted to myself, relieved. In
fact I was looking forward to spending some time
alone for a change --
About a quarter
mile ahead lightning struck to the left of the
road, bounced twice, and rolled across the
cement before stopping, half buried and glowing
in the sand.
I stopped the
car. Going back to Earl suddenly didn't seem so
bad after all. Instead, I inched the Jeep
forward. Just because there was a strange green
glow didn't mean a plane hadn't crashed. Someone
might need help.
When I saw the
guy standing at the side of the road I believed
it had been a plane. In the pouring rain I could
see that he was tall and thin, with long, light
colored hair. Okay, so he was dressed a little
strangely -- but hell, this is California. I
had seen people in skintight silver lamé and
ankle length black cloaks before.
The car scared
the hell out of him. He turned around and gave a
little jump, stumbled and fell on his ass in the
wet sand. I got out and ran over to help him
and that's when it finally, irrevocably became
clear that things were out of whack. His eyes
glowed when he looked up -- blue circles with
little flashes of silver in them. Gemstone
colors caught in the reflection of the setting
sun. I took a step backward.
"Mew?"
A man -- or
whatever -- that size should not make pitiful
little --
"Meow."
-- tiny kitten
sounds.
He was holding
the kitten under the cloak, trying to shield the
creature from the falling rain. That was my
undoing, of course. Kittens. I could never
turn away a stray in need.
"Are... you all
right?" I asked
"I..." he said
looking up, blinking those bright eyes a couple
times. "I fell."
"Yes," I said
glancing at the sky. "Yes, you fell quite a
long ways, I think. Can I give you a lift
somewhere? In my car I mean. Back to town or
something."
Babbling. I
couldn't help it.
"I don't know
where I am."
"Mew?"
"Come on.
Let's get you two out of the storm."
"We would be
grateful."
I helped them
into the car, and then sat behind the wheel in
silence while the rain pounded the cloth roof
and wind shook the whole world. I didn't know
what the hell to do now.
"Thank you," he
finally said. "This is much better."
"We can't stay
here," I said. Some part of my brain began to
work again. "Rain like this could cause flash
flooding. It's closer to my place than back to
town."
"I am grateful
for whatever sanctuary you can offer."
"Uh-huh." I
started the car. The kitten made a sound of
panic, but settled down in the next moment.
Obviously used to traveling since once I
started driving it made no protest. My
passenger waved his hand toward the crash as we
passed. The green glow disappeared. In fact,
glancing in the rearview mirror, I couldn't see
any of the crash at all.
"Hey -- where'd
it go?" I demanded.
"Still there,"
he said softly and laid his head back. "Just
not as noticeable."
"Well, that's
probably good. I don't want the guys in black
crawling all over the area."
"You don't like
black?" he asked, running his hand over that
long cloak.
It turned a
pretty, bright blue.
I started to
speak but it really seemed kind of futile.
Things did not
get better when we reached my house. The storm
grew in intensity and it came down, finally, to
asking myself if sitting in the car was wise at
all.
"Can you reach
the front door on your own?" I asked.
"Yes, I think
so," he said. "Perhaps you should take
Precious, though, in case I fall again."
He handed the
little piece of grey fluff over to me and I
pushed the kitten inside my jacket before I
stepped out into the pounding rain. My
unexpected guest stumbled all the way to the
front door but we got inside without any
trouble.
As he looked
around, I realized that this man (for want of a
better term) was from another world. I saw his
eyes glance from the living room and loft
bedroom, toward the kitchen to the right,
bathroom to the left. The place was littered
with the odds and ends of mismatched furniture.
Papers and books lay scattered everywhere. He
looked back at me --
"Don't even say
it."
"Pardon?" he
asked, startled.
"How it's
quaint or old-fashioned or primitive --"
"This is
primitive?" he asked and looked around again.
He dabbed a corner of his cape at his bleeding
forehead. The light didn't help. The blood
wasn't quite red.
"Never mind.
Sit down before you fall over."
"Yes. Good
idea."
He reached the
kitchen and settled on a much worn vinyl chair.
I put the purring bundle of silver-colored fur
on the table in front of him, and the kitten
snuggled into his arm, blinking sleepily.
Darius and Medusa, my two cats, had climbed up
on the back of the sofa and eyed us with true
cat disdain. Earl, I remembered, had decided to
toss the cats outside the first time he
arrived. Darius had bit him. Hard.
This visitor
at least had an affinity for cats. Or maybe it
was something more. He moved his hand
hypnotically over the little furry forehead.
The kitten
looked up at his companion. "Meow."
"What did he
say?" I asked, settling in the chair beside him.
"He said meow,"
the stranger replied.
"You don't
communicate with him?"
"Communicate?
He's a cat. What would he have to say to me?"
"I thought..."
I stopped and shoved away all the horrible
B-grade alien invasion movies I had ever seen.
"Never mind what I thought. He's very cute.
His name is Precious?"
"I don't know.
I was just running down to Taco Bell and someone
had tossed him out in the parking lot, poor
little guy. I couldn't leave him there. I
thought he'd behave, but he walked right across
the control board. Silly little cat, look what
a mess you've gotten me into! I'd be home by
now if it wasn't for you!"
"Home to your
wife and kids?" I mumbled, still trying to shape
my thoughts about this alien.
"I'm a pilot.
We don't have any."
"Any what?" I
asked, startled by the words. My eyes started
to drift down toward his lap. I pulled them
back with a start and a blush.
"Any wife and
kids. I'm sorry. We seem to be having trouble
communicating. I obviously made a rude
mistake. I assumed English was your first
language."
"I --" Take
deep breaths, deep breaths. Calm. "I think I
want some tea. Would you care for some?"
"That would be
wonderful. Do you have orange pekoe?"
By the time I
had the tea done he'd gone into the bathroom --
I didn't demand to know what he'd done in there
-- petted both of my cats, and settled on the
sofa with Precious Kitten in his lap. I brought
him a cup of tea and sat in the chair across
from him. Very nice and cozy with the storm
raging outside. Just the sort of weekend I'd
imagined with Earl -- except Earl got bored if
the TV wasn't on and playing some sports
channel.
"My name's
Millie," I offered.
"I'm Brad."
"Brad."
"Bradseline,
but my friends call me Brad. And the cats are?"
"Darius and
Medusa." Earl had never asked. "How long have
you been here?"
"About
thirty-seven minutes." He looked up and grinned
before I could say anything. "Oh, you mean on
Earth. Eight days."
So, he had a
sense of humor. Ha. Ha. "Is that something you
should just tell people?"
"You're the one
who asked. And besides, It's not like I could
lie to you about it. You saw the crash. I just
hope that you're not going to try and sell the
story or something stupid like that."
"You mean you
aren't going to make me forget everything I've
seen?"
"If you know a
way I can do that, it would be really helpful."
He leaned back. "I'm sorry I've had to
inconvenience you like this. I don't want to be
a bother -- but I really need to contact someone
to come and pick me up. I don't suppose you
have --"
A laser beam
communicator? A telepathic linkup?
"-- an Internet
Connection?"
I pushed a
second chair close to the desk so he could sit
while I made the connection. With the weather
it could be iffy, and I had warned him that it
might not work tonight -- but we got on-line
without any trouble. I have my computer set to
automatically launch my browser, email reader
and my newsgroup reader. They all came up, a
half dozen messages flagged in one of the more
volatile newsgroups that I love to read,
Flower Genetics in the Real World. The
topic had long since diverged from anything even
remotely resembling gardening, except that there
was generally a lot of manure slung around.
"Genetics?" he
asked, puzzled no doubt by the content of the
first message, which had automatically opened
and contained several references to a previous
poster's poor verbal skills and lack of
education.
"Never mind
that. They're silly people."
"Then why do
you read it?"
"Because it
amuses me," I said and quickly keyed the email
reader up. I had a new letter from my sister, a
note from my best friend and seven spams, all
promising to make my life better in one way or
another. Some of them rather interesting ideas,
if I were a hermaphrodite.
"There you go.
Write away," I said slipping out of the chair.
He didn't ask
me to leave, so I slid into the other chair and
watched, telling myself it was just to make
certain he got the note mailed off properly and
everything. Sure. If I had expected anything
spectacular, I would have been disappointed
again. He addressed the note to Jotin with a
bunch of numbers after the name. The note was
very short.
Hi Jot, it's
me, your roommate. I crashed in the desert
outside Barstow. A nice lady picked me up and
brought me home (Yes, she KNOWS.) Please come
down here and get me before the holograph
battery runs out of power and someone sees that
piece of crap Star Skimmer I bought. Follow the
signal and look for the first house north on the
road. Let me know if you get this. Thanks,
Brad.
Off the note
went and he sat back shaking his head. "I don't
know how long it'll take Jot to pick up his
email. Could be a couple hours. Can you stay
on-line that long?"
"Sure, no
problem, as long as the power doesn't go out."
I thought about what we could do to entertain
ourselves on-line for those two hours. "Hey,
how about if I show you my favorite newsgroups."
"Like the one
about flower genetics?"
"Right."
The poor man
was a newsgroup virgin. He had no idea what was
going on. The first time I said flamewar he
asked about casualties and what sort of defense
perimeter I had around the house. I explained
that we used the word for a particularly nasty
disagreement on-line.
The
conversation sort of degenerated from there.
"So, he's
really saying that the man's parentage is in
question," Brad said, tapping the screen. We
were into the When to Water Cactus
thread. "He seems annoyed that the other one
questioned his previous post. I thought he
posted so people could question him."
"Not Ninja
Barfly. He only wants to lecture and have
people tell him how brilliant he is."
"Oh. He must
have said that in an earlier post. Perhaps he
should make mention of it again."
I let it go.
We were already getting in way over my head. I
didn't think I was qualified to teach an alien
about human psychology. I just nodded and he
scrolled down to the next post from Mary
Contrary.
This is very
amusing guys. LOL :-) MaryC
"This is odd
code," Brad said. "Does she send secret
messages?"
"LOL is
shorthand for lots of laughs. The other is a
smiley face, one of the most loathsome cultural
inventions of our time."
"Truly?"
"Truly."
"So... she
thinks these other two, Ninja Barfly and John,
are amusing? I shouldn't take their
disagreement seriously?"
"I'm sure they
take it seriously, but the rest of us don't have
to."
He shook his
head and then put a hand to his forehead. There
was a spectacular bruise under a shock of bright
blond hair.
"Are you all
right?" I asked.
"Yes. Just
confused." He scrolled down to the next note,
one of the usual very short posts from
PanPiper23.
ROFLMAO
"And this
means?" There was a slight current of hysteria
in his voice.
"Roll on the
floor laughing my ass off."
"Ah -- eee ---"
"It's just a
saying. Don't take it literally. It means the
person finds this exceedingly amusing."
"Then why
didn't he say so, like John in his last post."
"John was
amused? I've never known John to be amused in
the two years I've been reading this newsgroup."
"Here," he
said, pulling back the post and tapping his
finger on the screen. "See. Ha. Ha. Very
funny. Why didn't PanPiper23 just write
that instead?"
"John isn't
amused at all, actually."
"But -- but --
he says he is!"
"No, not
really. You have to see the tone --"
"Tone? There
is no tone. They're words on a screen!"
Yes, the
hysteria had definitely started to settle in.
"Maybe we ought to call it a night, Brad. I'm
sure you've got a headache --"
"I didn't
before this," he said. But he opened the next
message. "There's only three more to go in this
thread. I want to see it to the end."
"It never
ends. There will be twenty-five more messages
before dawn."
He sighed but
started reading. This message looked like a
cryptic puzzle from hell. Not only couldn't the
person type three words without making a
mistake, but he also littered the letter with
slang and misspelled names. It also didn't help
that he was talking about something that had
happened in an entirely different thread. Even
I had trouble following that one.
Then we were
back to a post by Mary Contrary.
IIRC, the
man in the other car denied ever having been in
the location and it was proven that he could not
have been since he was in prison at the time.
IOW, the news story was an outright
fabrication. IMHO, this has gone on long
enough. Have either of you considered moving on
to a new subject? Even the Enquirer has dropped
this one by now.
"If I recall
correctly, in other words, in my humble
opinion. And the Enquirer is --"
"A tabloid sold
at supermarkets," he said. "Everyone knows
that."
"I'm sorry to
hear it."
The penultimate
message was about 1000 lines long: The Mother of
All Posts, stretching back to the beginning of
time. It consisted of the original question and
every reply; a continual accretion of lines that
no one deleted, as if this was some holy text.
Cultural anthropologists would one day study
that message to show the evolution of language
and habits on the Internet. It would be a
wonder to them.
For me, it was
damned boring. Brad read it all the way
through, even the last three posts from John and
Ninja Barfly that he had already read. Finally
we reached the bottom to which Sandi Sunshine
had affixed her answer to this weighty tome of
dissention.
Snarf.
Brad glanced my
way. He had a pathetically hopeful look in his
face.
"Snarf," I
said. "It’s a sound of amusement."
"Amusement.
Snarf. Sn-arf. Snnnaaarfff." He shook his
head. "Snarf-snarf-snarf-snarf-snarf."
I had a very
hard time keeping a straight face. He nearly
had me -- well, ROFLMAO. I just waved a hand at
the screen and he went to the last letter. It
was another post from Mary.
Stop sending
me emails. Just ignore the last post. I should
know better than to interfere in your mighty
discussion. I must be having a blonde day.
MaryC
"Blonde day?"
I looked at
Brad and his lovely long golden hair.
"Let's quit
now," I suggested.
He didn't even
argue.
We checked the
email again, and found a note from his roommate.
Idiot. I'll
be there as early in the morning as I can. I
hope you were smart enough to pay a little extra
and get the good insurance this time. Jot
I tried not to
feel disappointed that his friend would be by
for him. It was silly. How the hell would I
explain him to anyone else? Hi -- I broke up
with Earl and picked this up on my way home.
Some of my
friends would have been damned envious, though.
Brad slept on
the sofa, nestled between pillows, blankets, and
one of my traitor cats. Medusa liked him and
even tolerated Precious. I woke up several
times during the night and looked down from my
loft, just to make certain he was all right. It
wasn't that I doubted his existence. Really.
Sometime about
8AM, I got up and fed the cats, including
Precious, and made the toast and tea while Brad
took a shower. The weather didn't look much
better than it had been the night before. The
rain had eased, but the wind whiped up sand in
all directions, and the house groaned when the
gusts hit. I wouldn't be going anywhere today,
but I suspected the weather wouldn't slow Jot
down.
Brad arrived at
the table with dripping blond hair. I was
getting used to that look. The silver lamé had
turned green today. He thanked me for the toast
and I had just settled the tea cozy on the table
when someone pounded on the door.
We both assumed
Jot had arrived, and Brad followed me when I
went to answer it. Imagine my surprise when I
found Earl instead of another alien. His eyes
were puffy and he had a bandage across his
nose. Broken. I belatedly remembered that
part.
"What the hell
are you doing here?" I demanded. His car was
parked next to mine. I hadn't heard him coming,
not in that wind.
"I came out --
who's he!"
"This is Brad.
Brad, this is my former fiancée, Earl the
schmuck."
"Mr. Schmuck,"
Brad said with a nod.
"I don't think
that's very funny, you stupid bastard. Why
don't you just step outside here where we can
talk about it, man-to-man, asshole. Or don't
you have the balls?"
"Why are you
people obsessed with my anatomy?" Brad asked.
I decided to
take over the conversation before that one
went any farther. "You haven't told me what
you're doing here, Earl."
"I gave you the
night to calm down. I thought I'd drive out
here to give you a chance to apologize."
"I beg your
pardon?" I said, my voice very much calmer than
my thoughts.
"There. She
apologized," Brad offered. "Now I think she
wants you to leave."
"I didn't
apologize," I said. "Never mind. I'll explain
it later. Earl, get your fat ass off my land
and never come back. What made you think I
would ever go back to you after that little
scene with your other girlfriend?"
"She's not my
girlfriend. She's... my cousin."
"Well, when I
showed up, you had your hands all over your nude
cousin's breasts. If she's one of your family,
I really don't want to be part of it."
"I'll sue you
for breach of promise!" He waved his hand. The
ring was still there, the finger puffy. "I'll
sue you for my medical bills. I'll --"
I slammed the
door. Missed his nose, but I think it might
have broken his toe. He hobbled away cursing
and howling all the way.
Not a happy
man.
"You were going
to marry him? He doesn't seem your type at
all."
"No, he
doesn't. I'm glad that's over. Let's drink our
tea before it gets cold."
Jot showed up
about ten minutes later. He didn't look much
like Brad -- no clones, then. Another hallowed
science fiction concept ruined. Jot came to the
door, mumbled a polite and shy hello to me, and
then went back to wait at the door of his --
vehicle. He'd parked the other side of my car,
and it looked a little more spectacular than
Earl's Saturn.
"Well," I said
as he gathered up his blue cape and gray
kitten. "I really enjoyed meeting you."
"Thank you. It
was a very pleasant time, all things
considered. I -- come through this area about
once a week. Perhaps Precious and I could come
and visit you again?"
I smiled. A
lot. "Yes, that would be very nice."
"I have your
email address. I'll drop you a line when I get
home."
"Great!"
He smiled as he
left, waved before he got in the flying saucer
with Jot. It lifted up into the cloudy sky and
headed back down the road toward the crash. I
hoped he came back soon.
Earl went to
the police when he got back to town to report a
UFO and a visit from aliens, who, according to
him, stopped him on a back road and threatened
bodily harm if he ever bothered his former
girlfriend again. People have been telling me
for weeks how lucky I am for having broken up
with the loon.
Brad has been
by three times this month. Amazing how fast
Precious is growing! We exchange email and he's
even dropped into a couple of the newsgroups
groups that I frequent. He calls himself
Alien327. No one seems to know quite what to
make of him.
There was
another brief email from him tonight.
Hi! I'll be
there about noon tomorrow. I found another set
of those great anti-grav cat toys. We'll see
how long it takes Darius to destroy this pair --
I bought the set made of titanium. Looking
forward to seeing you. Till later -- Brad.
P.S. I got
the attachment of blonde jokes. ROTFLMAO
Now that's
something I'd like to see.
The End
©2000,
Lazette Gifford