by Catherine Bancroft
Like, you guys gonna shoot me? 'Cause if you are, it's still not gonna change
nothin'. It won't, okay? And I said I won't tell the damn tabloids, it's too
embarrassing. It really is... Why do you need a tape recorder, anyway? I
told this crap five hundred times to you people! Why don't you just leave me
alone, let me go home to clean up my place and feed my poor dog? I told
you. I told you! I don't know where it is! All right, fine, here it is. One more
time...
Yeah. Okay, like I said, it was the night that the stupid TV reported that
something, a glowing object, crashed. And, yeah, like I said, it shook the floor
when it hit. Yeah. So what? So? I told you guys... Yeah, I saw it come
down. Then the TV interrupts the Star Trek rerun to say that it's only a
meteorite or some stupid thing. I was mad, 'cause I wait all day for that show
to come on. How come you military people had to make them interrupt my
show? I was real pissed off. I work all day, I wanna come home and space
out in front of my show... Okay, okay. Take it easy. Hey don't point that
thing at me...
So at one in the morning, the dog was barking, real loud. I was pissed off
'cause I had to get up and go to my so-called job and the old lady I rent the
lousy four rooms from hates the noise. So like I said, I went out and the
garage door was open when I got out and the dog was freaking out and all
hysterical, barking into the garage. The lights were on in there, which was
weird, because I know I shut them off...
Anyway, there he was, the poor little guy was hiding under my '69 Chevelle.
Hey, that's a good car. I'm real mad that you put a bullet hole in it. I guess
you guys won't pay to fix it, will yah? Yup. I figured as much. So much for
where my taxes go. Anyway, the poor thing was under the engine. Yeah, at
first I was scared because his eyes were glowing in the dark under there and
stuff, but he looked scared, so I felt bad. So I coaxed the little guy out. His
silver space suit was all torn up, too. He looked all roughed up. He just
crawled out and leaned against the wall. Shaking too.
So I went in the house and brought a blanket. I didn't want him in, 'cause
before I got to know him better I thought he was kinda spooky, yah know?
Anyhow, the next morning — and I did not sleep at all — no! Anyway...
around dawn I started to feel bad again about this. Like, I figured, he's in a
strange place and he's probably hurt and all that... So it was just barely
dawn, with gray light just coming up into the dark sky. I got up and looked out
the window and looked down into the valley. I could still see the smoke from
the crash and see flashing lights and hear the sirens. Down on the highway
below the jeeps and trucks were still coming and going like crazy... Then I felt
scared again, but not of what was in the garage...
He was still there, sitting in the corner with the blanket wrapped around him,
staring down at the cement floor looking miserable. So I asked him if he
wanted to come in. What else was I gonna do? He looked up at me, no
expression at all on his little gray face, slowly got up, followed me in.
He really freaked out the dog at first, but the mutt calmed down after a while. I
had to go to work too, to my so called job. So I told him I was going to work, I
didn't know if he would understand what work was, or even if he was able to
understand anything I said. But what the hell, I left him in the house with the
dog. Just to relieve my own tension I figured I would try and say something
cute so I said there's beer and stuff in the fridge. I tried to laugh. I couldn't.
He just stood there gazing at me with those dark red glowing eyes of his. I got
real scared when he looked at me like that. Then I left.
When I got home... Oh hell. What a bad trip. I never saw anybody get
Americanized so fast. The TV was on. Like, the first thing he discovered
about Earth must have been the TV control. Quite a big discovery too! And
when I came in, there he was, sitting on the couch, surrounded by empty
cans. There was an empty corn chip bag on the floor, and he had a big bowl
of pretzels on the couch next to him. He turned to look at me, and smiled
happily, and said, "Honey! I'm home!"
"W-hat?" I said. "What did you say?"
He smiled again, with his dark almond shaped eyes shining in the glow of the
television, "Nine out of ten doctors and their lawyers recommend Luxe Fabric
Softener!"
So then I began to really worry. Like, either the poor little guy was seriously
injured in the crash... Or he watched too much useless crap on TV. But it
didn't matter. 'Cause then I tried to ignore him while I checked the phone
messages... and, oh my God, they were all confirming about the party that I
had forgotten with all the excitement. Now I started thinking fast. How was I
gonna hide him now? I was gonna have like twenty people coming over
Saturday night. Hopefully they would be all too drunk to notice... Then the
last message came on. It was cousin Myron from New Jersey. He couldn't
make it. He had been arrested again. Shit. He'll never learn. I told him to
quit selling to undercover cops, but he don't listen. None of my friends had
ever met Myron, but they all knew about him because I talked about him a lot.
They just knew that he was pale and little, weird, and kinda spaced out... It
was too bad he couldn't make it to the party, I hadn't seen him in years.
Ordinarily I'd be totally upset about that, but mainly I was just worried about
that one thing... I couldn't get it out of my head: How was I going to hide a
space alien with the damned FBI and the CIA and the IRS outside and twenty
stoned idiots inside? It was gonna be a rough weekend...
"Don't worry! It will be okay! We're here for you! Just tell our audience how
long you have been a transvestite child-molesting alcoholic lesbian pimp
weighing three hundred and ninety nine pounds and who claims to have been
abducted by O.J. Simpson, and could it all be just due to low self-esteem?"
I wanted to scream. I really, really did... But I had to keep it all together.
"Okay," I said, "Look, you gotta help me here... " And then I started to think of
a real crazy plan...
So we went to the supermarket. Yeah. That's right. We went to the
supermarket. We went first to a thrift shop to get him some street clothes. He
looked like everybody else then, I suppose. Hat on the wrong way, baggy
jeans with lotsa holes in them, an ugly sweat shirt ten sizes too big, and one
of those choke chain dog collars. Yeah. That's right. The kids in the
neighborhood wear them. Think it's real cool. So then we went to the
supermarket. He picked up a lot of the kinda stuff he cleaned me out of
already. Chips, nachos, pretzels, cheeze dings and stuff like that, the
nutritious stuff, you know. He reminded me to get the beer. It was good he
did, because he had cleaned out all that too.
So we get home and what does he do? He drops on the couch again and
grabs the TV control again. Yeah. So after I put stuff away I figured I had no
choice. After all, he was an advanced being. I got a bowl of cheeze dings
and a six pack and sat myself down. The Jessie Jones Show was good that
day, I remember...
Then at seven they all came. It was an invasion. Like, twice the number of
people I expected came. Myron, that's what his name would be now, he
loved it. He loved all the people, no kidding. People were all captivated by
his outgoing personality and lighthearted smile. Everyone would go introduce
themselves, start up conversations. And he was great at conversation now
that he knew a lot about our culture...
"Hey man, we heard a lot about you! What's been happening to you these
days?" So he goes, "I've fallen and I can't get up!"
"Hey, Myron, yo dude! How yah been?" He smiles and he says,
"Dy-No-Mite!"
"So, it's Myron, huh? Is it true about the drug bust last week?"
"What you talkin 'bout, Willis?"
Then this spaced out broad who walked in with some of the guys I knew who
told me her name was Robin, she came on to him... "Hey baby. I been with a
lotta guys in every way possible. But somehow you just seem, like, different.
Wanna go someplace together after this dull party, baby?" He didn't quite
grasp the concept, though, "Quick Robin! To the Batcave!"
He loved the music too. They all brought their collection of Metalhead CD's;
someone brought a strobe light. He had been watching MTV so he knew how
to dance real well. It was a cool party scene. I was just happy to see the little
guy have a good time so many lightyears away from his real home. Someone
brought the weed out so he learned all about that too. Made him real happy.
In the darkness I saw his eyes glow from red to purple; when he finally started
smoking he began to levitate up several inches, maybe almost a foot, up off
the couch he was on.
Somehow, I wasn't surprised by all that. But the funny thing about it was...
even though his eyes glowed in the dark and he was floating in the air and
mumbling in some strange alien foreign language... None of the other people
seemed to notice it much. To them, maybe it seemed just the same...
Then I heard this big roaring noise overhead. I was the only one sober so no
one else noticed, except maybe Myron. I figured it was a military helicopter. I
could tell he was getting upset when he started acting hysterical. He pointed
up at the ceiling and yelled, "The plane! The plane!"
But everyone kept on dancing...
Then these guys in fatigues and carrying machine guns busted down my
door. The guys all just figured it was cops and they ran to the john to flush
their stuff. Then in comes these serious people in dark blue suits, "We have
had reports of an alien at this location," one of them said in this dull, real
dead monotone that I figured was typical of most government officials.
The people did not comprehend so they began to protest: "Hey man, like,
we're all American citizens!" And, "Yeah, like, I got a green card!"
The government agents kept looking around the room but everyone looked
the same, including Myron. Really. He looked and acted just like everyone
else in those thrift shop rags and untied sneakers and dog collar I got for
him. I saw him in among the crowd, trying real hard to blend in, act casual.
He was talking again with the chick who wanted to do him earlier, "If you've
been hurt or injured in an accident or on the job, you deserve to get what's
coming to you!"
They searched the place with the armed men watching us to make sure
nobody moved. They searched the john but only found the drugs people
didn't flush quick enough. They searched my closet but only found more
clothes from more thrift stores... And my old guitar... And a bunch of empty
beer cans. They searched my bedroom but only found my dog and my
collection of comic books and the pile of clothes and stuff that's always on the
floor anyway... They searched the laundry room but I don't do no laundry so
they didn't find anything in there. They searched the kitchen but only found
the last bag of corn chips and a single can of beer... They got mad and
demanded to know where the alien was!
I could tell Myron was scared. Real scared. Like, he was over in the dark
corner, clutching the TV control, clicking at the men in blue suits, trying to
make them all disappear. He couldn't figure out why the channel wouldn't
change like it always had for him before, ever since he crash landed...
Then one of the gun totting jerks notices and screams out like a maniac,
"Watch out! It's got a weapon!" And the idiots rush in with guns firing, it was
a war zone, everybody hits the deck, I went down to the floor, then I was sorry
I hadn't vacuumed the purple shag carpet for like, I dunno, ten years...
After the noise quieted down, I looked up. There he was, fallen, lifeless on
the floor in the corner of the room. Robin was crying, then I noticed that I was
crying too. I couldn't stand it. I really couldn't. My head just went down into
the stinky old rug and I cried uncontrollably. It really hurt. It really got me...
One minute he was having a real good time, and then... Then he was dead.
And then you guys drag me and all my friends in here, put a bullet hole in my
Chevy, lock up my dog in the bathroom just 'cause he's barkin'... Didn't you
guys do enough by killing my little friend? Huh? You have to make us all
damn miserable too?
And to finish it all, you dissect him. And then you go telling me there is
nothing, nothing, nothing... in his skull but this strange-weird-gray-jello-sticky-
liquid-oatmeal-crap? You keep on asking me were the hell his brain is?
'Cause you wanna study it? Well, I do not know! Okay? I don't! I told you
everything. That's how it all happened! Really! He landed on earth, he got
relaxed, he watched TV, sat on the couch, drank some beer, ate some corn
chips and pretzels, patted the dog, watched more TV, drank some more beer,
saw a talk show then watched MTV, had fun at the party, drank some more
beer, danced with all the chicks, smoked a little weed...
And that's all that happened! We do not know what happened to Myron's
brain. We really do not...
Are you gonna let me go now?
click one of the titles below.
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