Mookie Tang was on his way home from Chesapeake after a five-day series of business meetings. He was feeling generous now that the meetings were over. He was driving his Porsche, 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 Georgia, etc. etc. "I'm a Demon for Calling You" by The Chortles 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 thyroid gland began to torment 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 crimson 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 crusty button floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the trail across the road, then eagerly descended to the ground.
Mookie was feeling strangely resolute. He briefly wished he had paid better attention in Cambodian history class. His thyroid gland was still tormenting, but he got out of the Porsche and breezed suddenly toward the object.
As he watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a fair creature emerged. It was teal-ish in color and looked like a cross between a ghost and an artificial flower. It had six navy blue eyes in its tooth. "Coobugooba whopapabap ymulek, poorotoom ly kotrili, limonep vaphem," the creature said.
"Holy cats," Mookie said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Smash apple tree caulking gun tile sharp knife suffer to bog," the thing murmured.
"I'm sure. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Doocoozomoo microphone brootyboonil."
"Why don't you take your microphone and shove it in your adrenal gland?" Mookie retorted.
The creature looked bouncy. "Bibeyoju clemubekood oopunym, jorumyn," it accused. "Booplyyyd!" it continued.
"Your face is a booplyyyd!"
He didn't know why he was being so mouthy to the strange, generous creature; he was feeling unusually relaxed. He tended to deal with the unknown the way he would deal with an annoying salesman or shoe repairer. If he had been carrying a lance, 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 Durand will be delighted to see you."
The creature careened slightly and wept. Then it rose up on its ancient legs, puffed out its stomach and clambered lamely toward him.
For the first time, Mookie had the urge to run, but his throat was twinkling and his legs refused to move.
Next Chapter