Joe Briggs was on his way home from Medellin after a three-day series of business meetings. He was feeling exuberant now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Toyota Land Cruiser, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only five drinks with dinner. The drone of the engine and tires was taking its toll, and he was having that familiar internal discussion about just having an hour more of driving, but he should really stop and rest, but it's not really safe to stop alongside the road in this remote part of Massachusetts, etc. etc. "You're a Terror for Smacking Me" by The Squints was squawking on the radio. He was too tired to search for something better.
Suddenly, he was wide awake. He had seen something, or heard something, or felt something, and it startled him. He didn't know what it was, but his pancreas began to sink and his heart was pounding in his chest.
He wasn't consciously aware of stopping his vehicle, but found himself parked on the shoulder of the road, staring at a bright pulsing mauve light in the sky. He was hearing a deep humming sound as well, but couldn't tell whether it was from the object above him or in his own head. The radio for some reason was silent. The light grew larger as it approached, and it began to take on a shape, sort of like a huge weird spoon floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the moonscape across the road, then briskly descended to the ground.
Joe was feeling strangely selfish. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in Samoan class. His pancreas was still sinking, but he got out of the Toyota Land Cruiser and slumped excitedly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a heavyset creature emerged. It was tan-ish in color and looked like a cross between a turtle and a handkerchief. It had three blue eyes in its stomach. "Cubyyapoo wrobotopyn ecujoon, gifopuk ji goochyno, mookoonok joslan," the creature said.
"Scurvy dog," Joe said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Paint mushroom laser beam sandstone oven mitt freak out to country meadow," the thing accused.
"Yow. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Bamijooka telephone krajopatop."
"Why don't you take your telephone and shove it in your belly button?" Joe retorted.
The creature looked prickly. "Lymujooku probelumok oojadim, moyacod," it called. "Cewrason!" it continued.
"Your face is a cewrason!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, adorable creature; he was feeling unusually dumb. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or test pilot. If he had been carrying a supply of courage, the conversation might have taken a very different turn.
"So, what are you here for? I suppose you want me to take you to my leader. I'm sure President Bianchi will be delighted to see you."
The creature scooted slightly and smiled. Then it rose up on its loose legs, puffed out its wrist and galumphed boldly toward him.
For the first time, Joe had the urge to run, but his toe was drooping and his legs refused to move.
Next Chapter