Carl was spending his time after work at a small cafe near Mr. Harris’s home where he hoped to meet the daughter and start a relationship with her. He could just imagine the look on Mr. Harris’s face when she would bring him home and introduce him as her new boyfriend. Of course, Carl would act surprised to find out that her father was his boss, but he would get a lot of satisfaction out of Mr. Harris’s reaction.
Tabitha was spending her time after school at a small cafe near her stepfather’s business where she hoped to meet his employee and start a relationship with him. She could just imagine the look on her stepfather’s face when she would bring him home and introduce him as her new boyfriend. Of course, Tabitha would act surprised to find out that her stepfather was his boss, but she would get a lot of satisfaction out of her stepfather’s reaction.
Carl looked around the cafe and wondered if Mr. Harris’s daughter could be sitting here right now. It was possible since it was so close to her home. He noticed a girl nearby, also looking around the room. He wondered if that was her. Wouldn’t that be quite a coincidence? he thought.
Tabitha looked around the cafe and wondered if her stepfather’s employee was sitting here now. It was possible, since it was so close to his work. She noticed a boy nearby, also looking around the room. She wondered if that was him. Wouldn’t that be quite a coincidence? she thought.
Carl decided to go over and introduce himself, knowing it was a long shot, but you never know, stranger things have happened. She was about his age and very pretty. Even if she weren’t Mr. Harris’s daughter, it would be nice to have a new friend.
Tabitha was pleased to see that he was getting up from his table. I hope he’s coming over here, she thought, this could be interesting. It could be him, stranger things have happened. He was about her age and cute. Even if he wasn’t her stepfather’s employee, it would be nice to have a new friend.
After introducing himself and asking if she would like some company, Carl sat down, wondering how to find out if this was Mr. Harris’s daughter, without letting on that he worked for him. He started out with small talk and found that she lived nearby and had just graduated. They talked for a while and, agreeing to get together again, exchanged email addresses. Carl didn’t ask for her last name, he was confident this was Mr. Harris's daughter. His plan was starting to fall together. He was elated as he left the cafe.
Tabitha watched as the boy walked out of the restaurant. I wonder if he’s my stepfather’s employee, she thought. Oh, well, she’d probably never know. But he sure seemed happy after talking to the girl at the table behind her.
Tag, You’re It!
Walking in the yard behind my house, I saw something glowing; it was green and about the size of a baseball. It looked as if it was made of glass, but when I tried to touch it, it wasn’t there. My eyes told me that I had my hand around it, but I couldn’t feel it. I carefully rolled the object onto my open palm and lifted it up to get a better look. Bringing it closer, I heard a noise that sounded like the beating of hummingbird’s wings. As I gazed into the glowing orb, it became clear, and I could see inside.
At first, I could only make out colors and shapes, but I was slowly able to see mountains covered with a thick, bright white substance that at first looked like snow. As my eyes focused, I could see that it was millions of pulsing organisms. Each of these plant-like creatures appeared to be an exact duplicate, but on closer inspection, I could see that they had distinct differences. Whereas one would have a short, slender protrusion that opened and closed repeatedly, the next would appear to have a rounded hole that was flat and remained open.
I felt like I was in a dream. I closed my eyes and shook my head. When I opened my eyes and looked around, I was standing on the mountain, surrounded by the white creatures. Shocked, I dropped the orb and I was back in my yard. I ran into my house and stood at the window, shaking and gasping for air, looking at the object still glowing in the grass.
“What in the hell was that?” I said aloud, “I must be losing my mind.” I went to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer. I sat in a chair and stared out the window.
“Okay, just calm down and think; it had to be my imagination.” Even while I was saying it, I could recall the smell of the place; it was a strange mixture of sulfur and cherries. “You can’t make that up, nothing smells like that.”
I knew that I would go back to pick up the orb again, but first I had to think. I began pacing the room, trying to gather my thoughts. The object fell from space and is able to transport anyone that holds it to another planet. “That’s insane!” I tried to think of another explanation. It’s a crystal ball that puts a spell on anyone who holds it and makes you see into another world. “Oh, that makes more sense,” I said to myself sarcastically. There wasn’t any way to make sense out of what happened, so I decided to go back outside to have another look.
Stepping out into the cool spring morning, I looked around and had the feeling of seeing things for the first time. I saw the gentle swaying of the trees as they danced in the breeze and heard the chirping of the birds as they called out to each other, expressing their joy of the arrival of spring. Maybe I shouldn’t mess with something that I didn’t understand. What if I left this world and couldn’t come back? But when I knelt by the glowing orb and heard its gentle hum, I felt drawn to it and without any hesitation, carefully scooped it up and sat in the grass, gazing into it.
I was standing on the mountain again, and I somehow knew that the creatures were called Prantholimins. The smell of sulfur and cherries was their scent. As I slowly moved through the field, they made a chattering sound, and they parted to allow me to pass. Looking up, I saw a large bird circling above me, seeming to watch me as I moved through the field. The bird was easily twice my size and was getting closer with each pass. As I watched in awe that something so big was able to move so effortlessly through the air, it landed near me. My first instinct was to run but instead I stood perfectly still as the large creature walked slowly towards me. As it approached, I was utterly amazed to see that with each step its features were transforming. In the time it took to reach me, it had turned from what was once a bird, into a man. No, not a man—it had turned into me!
It was standing about three feet in front of me, just staring, not making a sound. Finally, unable to stand the silence any longer, I said, “Who are you?”
“Who are you?” it repeated, with what was probably my exact voice.
“Where am I?” I tried again, noticing that it was now copying the movements I made. Turning its head when I did, gesturing with its hands, as I opened and closed mine nervously.
“Where am I?” it responded, mimicking me like a parrot.
This was getting frustrating! “Do you understand me, or are you just copying what I say?”
“I’m learning you. Speak more,” it jerkily replied.
“You mean you’re learning my language as I speak to you? That’s amazing! So you do understand me. Can you tell me who you are, and where this place is?”
“Who you are, where this place is?” it replied. “I are… Trabtoly. This place is… Newgti. Talk more.”
“I’m Randy, I’m from Earth, and I don’t really know how I got here. I found this green orb and when I held it, I was transported here. I don’t know if this is just a dream, or if I’m under some kind of spell and I don’t know how, or if, I can get back.” I was beginning to ramble on, but I could tell by the look in Trabtoly’s eyes that with each word, its intelligence was increasing.
“Good.” Trabtoly seemed satisfied. With a familiar grin that I’d seen a million times in the mirror, he said, “Welcome Randy, I’m very pleased to meet you. Come with me, I show to you, Newgti.”
We walked to the edge of the mountain and looked across the valley at a breathtaking scene of red lakes and forests of blue and orange that were alive with activity. “The joy of flying above this valley cannot be expressed. Would you like to feel the wind as it flows around you, and hear the sounds
of the valley as they rise up to you on a golden sphere of warm air?”
“Do you mean that you could take me flying with you? That would be amazing! I’ve always wanted to know what it felt like to fly like a bird, soaring through the air.”
“Not take you with me. I mean for you to fly, on your own, without any fear of falling, in complete control. Just let me hold the orb and say, ‘Yes, I’ll trade,’ and all of the necessary skills and … tools, will be yours.”
Flying! What person hasn’t dreamed of it! I’d love to experience the feeling of drifting on the breeze, rising on the warm currents to dizzying heights and soaring across the colorful valley below. Without a moment’s hesitation, I handed him the orb and replied, “Yes, of course I’ll trade.”
As soon as my mouth uttered the words, it was replaced with a beak. Looking down at my body, I watched in fascination as my skin sprouted feathers. My arms were expanding into a large pair of wings, and when I opened them, I felt my body rise off the ground. What an amazing feeling. I was soaring across the valley, floating on the wind currents as easily as if I’d done it all my life.
After a while, I landed near Trabtoly to thank him for the wonderful experience.
“I’m glad you are happy,” he said. “I hope you are able to maintain that feeling for many years. I will be leaving now, thank you for releasing me. I promise to place the orb where others will see it. Maybe you won’t have to wait as long I did for it to return.”
The last thing I heard him say as he slowly disappeared was, “Tag, you’re it!”
Before They Come Back
“Excuse me, sir.”
Here it comes; I hate it when people ask me for money. I pay my taxes so there are places they can go to eat when they need help. I’ll just keep walking, ignore him, shake my head, and say, “Sorry.”
“Do you have an extra pencil I can borrow?”
Did he say pencil? Surprised, I stop to look at the man sitting on the park bench, for the first time. He’s wearing what were probably nice clothes once but which are now torn and dirty. In his hand, he’s holding a stub of a pencil, about one inch long.
“I’ve got to finish writing this,” he says while patting a pile of paper next to him on the bench. “People have to know what happened before they come back.”
He’s staring at me through a pair of thick glasses and has the look of someone on their last leg of a long journey.
I walk over to him and ask, “What do you mean, before they come back? Before who comes back?”
“Oh, they’ll be back, don’t you worry about that, it won’t be long either. What was it they said…? ‘Before your moon is big again.’ So, it won’t be long now. Do you have a pencil?”
Reaching into my shirt pocket, I pull out a pencil and hand it to him. He takes it and immediately starts writing again, seeming to forget I’m there. I walk behind the bench to read what he’s writing.
‘Running his claw-like hand along my spine while making an odd whistling noise that I surmised to be their way of communicating, I began to realize they were preparing to cut me open.’
“What in the world?” I jump back from the bench feeling as if I’d been shocked by a jolt of electricity. He’s just writing a fiction story about aliens, why am I standing here shaking as if I’ve just seen a ghost?
Turning his head to face me, I see an emptiness in his eyes of the kind that would only be seen in someone who’s been through a traumatic event. I’ve seen the same look in the eyes of soldiers returning from war. This man is either crazy or he has been through something terrible that has taken the life out of him. But there is something in his writing that rings true to me, like a long forgotten memory.
Looking into my eyes the strange man said, “You’ve seen them too, haven’t you? You know what I’m saying is true. You have to help me. Help me tell people they’re coming back, and it will be for the final time.”
“No!” I say, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re crazy. Only crazy people see aliens!”
I run away from him, running from … the truth. Suddenly I stop, and as I look back at the man sitting on the bench, head bowed and writing furiously, I remember.
I am nine years old, lying in bed listening to the sounds of the night through the screen of an open window. The whistle of a distant train. The shifting of a motorcycle’s gears as it makes its way through the city. I’m trying to hear which sound is the farthest away. I distinctly hear an odd whistling sound, unlike anything I’ve heard before. It isn’t a tune; it’s more like a strange birdcall, but coming from something larger than a bird. Getting out of my bed and going to the window, I see something in the shadows outside. Hiding beside the curtains as much as possible while still being able to see, I catch a glimpse of something as it walks by. It’s the size of a small boy with a body shaped like a large slug. It has long arms hanging almost to the ground, and on the end of each arm was a claw.
Running back to the man I say, “I have seen them. How did you know?”
“I can see it in your eyes. Will you help me?”
How could I not help him?
That was twenty-two days ago; we think there are only five more days before their return. We have been going to all of the newspaper offices, radio stations, and have started a blog, ‘TheyAreComing.com.’ We don’t know what else we can do. Many people have contacted us to share their stories. Some are clearly made up, but enough people have real stories that we are slowly gaining credibility. There isn’t much time left; I only hope we’ll be ready before they come back.
Justin’s Love
Justin decided it was time for her to go. They’d been together for a long time; it wasn’t going to be easy, but he knew it was the right thing to do. She used to be so dependable; now he never knew what to expect from her. Lately, there had been times when she didn’t even make it home.
When he first saw Lucille, it was love at first sight. He knew that she was perfect for him. It took a lot of planning and effort, but eventually she became an important part of his life. All of his friends and co-workers were envious; she was beautiful. When Justin recalled the first time they were together, it still made him smile. It was a warm summer morning when he and Lucille went on a long drive in the country. He had planned the whole day, and all of his dreams were fulfilled. He couldn’t believe how comfortable she made him feel. They spent the whole day together, and Justin was happier than he’d ever been before. He couldn’t imagine getting by without her.
Things were great for the first few years, but then something seemed to go wrong. Lucille started getting needy, and Justin was tired of always having to alter his plans because of her problems. Time had taken its toll on Lucille. She wasn’t able to satisfy Justin’s needs, and he’d noticed that Lucille wasn’t getting the looks she used to. It wasn’t that Justin was shallow, but he enjoyed the attention he used to get when he was with her. There were other fish in the sea, as the saying goes, and Justin found Lucille’s replacement. She was stunning, and he knew he was going to be happy again.
Today was the day he would start a new life without Lucille. He didn’t say a word to her: he didn’t have to; he could tell she knew it was over. He took her downtown, to the place where they first met. With tears in his eyes, he took her keys and handed them to the salesman.
Ronnie and the Smoke Bomb
When I heard the news about Ronnie Bork, I had my editor arrange for me to interview him at the St. Clair County Jail. I met Ronnie in 1969; we were in the eighth grade together. He was easily the biggest kid in school; in fact, he was bigger than most of the teachers. That was the first year kids were bused to our school, and Ronnie was glad to have some “fresh meat.” None of the new kids would fight him so he tried to pick a fight with the bus driver. I can still see him, rocking the bus full of scared kids and yelling at the driver to “come out and fight!” The driver didn’t get off the bus, and I can’t say for sure, but I bet he wasn’t the same driver who came to
our school the next day.
Ronnie wasn’t very smart. I’m sure that he only made it to the eighth grade because of his age; the teachers passed him just to get him out of their classes. He was fun to watch in class. I remember one time he decided he wanted to go home so he took a key and split the bottom out of his pants. Everyone could hear the ripping sound in the quiet classroom. He raised his hand and said, “I’ve got to go home. My pants are torn.” At the time, we all thought it was a great idea, but most of our parents would’ve killed us if we came home with the ass ripped out of our jeans.
Ronnie’s dad owned a bar in the neighborhood. My dad used to work with Mr. Bork as a truck driver before he bought the bar. He told my dad that a semi-truck driving down Broadway once hit Ronnie. He got up and walked away. Knowing Ronnie, he probably walked in front of the truck on purpose.
I noticed Ronnie always smelled like paint. I never asked him why, but I figured it out years later. I hitched a ride to a concert downtown one night and Ronnie was in the back seat of the car. He didn’t recognize me and I didn’t say anything to him. He was preoccupied. I’d heard about ‘huffing,’ but I’d never seen anyone do it before. He had a small paper bag with a rag in it that was soaked with toluol, a solvent. He had the opening of the bag pressed to his face and was breathing the fumes. He must have been inhaling that stuff since grade school. That sure would explain why he seemed so dumb; most of his brain cells were fried!
When I met Ronnie in the jail’s interview room, I wasn’t sure if he would remember me, so I introduced myself to him.
“Oh yeah,” he said, “I ’member you. We used to fight all the time. C’mon, let’s fight, like the good ole days.”
He got up from the table. Unable to raise his chained hands, he sat back down.
“No, Ronnie,” I said, “you’re thinking of someone else. We never fought, we were friends, remember?”