Emma Comstad was on her way home from Ontario after a three-day series of business meetings. She was feeling somber now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Saturn, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only seven drinks with dinner. The drone of the engine and tires was taking its toll, and she was having that familiar internal discussion about just having an hour more of driving, but she should really stop and rest, but it's not really safe to stop alongside the road in this remote part of Arkansas, etc. etc. "You're a Fathead for Staring at Me" by The Sighs was squawking on the radio. She was too tired to search for something better.
Suddenly, she was wide awake. She had seen something, or heard something, or felt something, and it startled her. She didn't know what it was, but her palm began to act up and her heart was pounding in her chest.
She wasn't consciously aware of stopping her vehicle, but found herself parked on the shoulder of the road, staring at a bright pulsing purple light in the sky. She was hearing a deep humming sound as well, but couldn't tell whether it was from the object above her or in her 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 porcelain feather floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the neighborhood across the road, then heavily descended to the ground.
Emma was feeling strangely hysterical. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in scuba diving class. Her palm was still acting up, but she got out of the Saturn and lumbered stupidly toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a little creature emerged. It was scarlet-ish in color and looked like a cross between a Norway rat and a wrench. It had four jet black eyes in its claw. "Pumufiky dridooliket olekuc, lohileb mo musholi, bajytag vawrib," the creature said.
"Yowie," Emma said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Stash dead tree razor blade iron pastry blender run to island," the thing sneered.
"Say what. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Gykagane spinning wheel prodaniduj."
"Why don't you take your spinning wheel and shove it in your ego?" Emma retorted.
The creature looked undignified. "Kucevobo glujoodybyp apotap, jufunyc," it shouted. "Naprovum!" it continued.
"Your face is a naprovum!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, sloppy creature; she was feeling unusually brash. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or bookkeeper. If she had been carrying an assault rifle, 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 Sales will be delighted to see you."
The creature waltzed slightly and rocked. Then it rose up on its frilly legs, puffed out its toupee and capered grudgingly toward her.
For the first time, Emma had the urge to run, but her rib was pulsating and her legs refused to move.
Next Chapter