All written on my phone while going to work.
Hey mom when is dad coming home? The young boy chuckles as he walks in the screen door. He has been playing this mean game for years, since his father left five years ago. Shut up and do your homework, his mom bellows from the next room. She's sitting in front of an old sewing machine, catching up on some things she has left over the past year. As she needles the thread and picks up an old ivory button and starts mending a rather well used teddy bear. "Super bunny" he mentions as he walks into the pink room that over the years has become his mothers hiding place.
The room smells like mothballs and grandma, on the walls are pictures, so many in fact that only parts of the faded pink stripped wall paper is shown. The pictures are of the family that she lost. Two years earlier her parents were lost to a small fire that ravaged the old homestead. The charred remains of their home lay still behind the new trailer that she bought with the inheritance. Mike sits in front of her on a small three legged stool and proceeds to grab the stuffed animal from his moms hands.
Did I get any mail today?
No, nothing today.
Damn it he mumbled, I sent those collage letters four weeks ago, I should have heard something by now.
Why are you in such a rush to leave your poor dying mother she asks with that look only s mother can lay without being truly considered guilt.
Ah mom you know you're not dying, as he lays the bear down and stands up to look at a picture of his grandpa on the wall. The picture is his grandfather, lieutenant Michael Davidson Sr. in his full military fear standing beside a worn torn spitfire. Mike starts to imagine that it"s him behind the mighty metal bird. Soaring through the clouds with a Japanese kamacuzi fighter dodging his bullets, the guns blazing as the empty shells fall from the red hot guns and rain on some unsuspecting farmers field in Hawaii.
He lightly touches the propeller on the picture and turns to his mom. You know I can't live here forever, there is a whole world out there that I'm missing and nothing seems to be going right for me out here. Well if i had it my way you would never have grown as big as you are now, his mother replies. Mom I'm not going yo be your little man forever, flustered from this talk that has happened way too many times over the part year, she puts down the needle and gets up and walks to the kitchen and starts grabbing food from the fridge.
Who is going to take care of me she says? If your out roaming the campuses in your fancy collage, your poor mother will be all alone. Wasting away on this empty farm, no body to love me. Come on mom this is not fair, Your little boy is becoming a man now. Man she laughs, you're only 17 and still have peach fuzz on your cheeks. Hey its called a goatee, and its grown pretty thick over the last few months. She laughs and starts to make him a sandwich, ok magnum why don't you take this sandwich and go fight some crime. I'm sure tc will be around shortly to pick you up in the helicopter and wish you away to some exotic beach. Don't be hating mom, Michael grabs the sandwich, he walks out of the room and opens the screen door and sits on the porch. He puts the sandwich down and starts throwing rocks at an old rusted nuts and bolts coffee tin that lays off to the side.
I am never going to leave this one horse town he thinks to himself as a rock smoothly falls into the can. He looks to the sky, the wide never ending sky of the prairies. Desolation and endless fields is all he can see. You can watch your dog run away for days he use to hear his old man mention. Before he left with some blonde waitress he met at the gas station so many years ago. He can still picture is father working on the old tractor that now has finally laid to rust. Running out to ask if he was ready for him to try to turn it over. He eats the sandwich, grabs a large rock and chucks it as hard as he can. It bounces off the old worn out tire and flies through the living room window with a crash. His mother opens the screen door and starts to yell. What the hell you doing out here? Sorry mom it was an accident. Well now I have to call someone in to gets this window fixed, she mentions as she gives him a stern look. Go get some tape and block that hole before the bugs get in, and hurry before it gets too dark. He patches the window and tells his mother he'll be back soon. Don't go to far, dinner will be ready in an hour. He shuts the screen door and walks to his bike.
Cruising down the old back roads he imagines his bike being a Harley, he leans back and rests his arms like ape hangers over the handle bars. Imaging himself in full leather, riding the open highway. A rebel without a cause. He looks to the sky and sees in his mind a sky full of spitfires, he smiles and hits the gas.
With a sudden stop kicking same and dirt he stops and listens, a slight high pitch whine is coming from the field to his right. He rides in the ditch and leans his bike against a pole and jumps over the barbwire fence. As he starts walking the sound keeps increasing louder, he climbs a small dust hill and stands on top. Below him is an abandoned gravel pit that is giving off a thick yellow smoke. The noise is starting to hurt his ears so he stuffs his earbuds in that were in his pocket and starts to walk over to the hole. As he is walking he notices a small metallic object hidden in the hole.
He calls to no answer. He walks to the ledge of the hole and slides down. The object is no bigger then the pup trailer he stayed in when he was camping as a kid. He starts to circle it when he notices a latch open on the far side. He walks toward it nervously, inside is black but a strange hammering sound is coming from within. He gets closer to the hatch and yells again inside, hello? Still nothing but blackness and that hollow banging. He looks down and grabs a rock and bangs on the side of the hatch, is anyone in there? The hammering stops instantly. Michael weeks his head a little ways in the hatch, all he can see is darkness but he smells something familiar that reminds him of his uncles basement. All of a sudden a silver object appears in front of his face that reminds him of a muffler. He slowly steps back and trips as a creature appears in front of him.
What the hail do you think you're doing boy? Mike opens how mouth but no words come to mind. Do you always knock on peoples transports with rocks? The alien reaches out and rubs the side of the ship that was hit. You humans have no consideration what so ever, where in that primate mind did you think this was a good idea? I, I Michael stammers crawling still backwards from the mysterious alien. It had to stand about 7 feet high in a greenish suit that looked like leather with veins. It had hair that was the colour of the sun that blew wild in the wind.
Micheal looks at the strange creature and starts to scream and run...
Scared and screaming Michael attempts to climb the steep slope behind him; stumbling to get any foothold he slips and rolls back to the laughing alien.
Boy you sure aren't the brightest pick of the litter, the creature says.
Michael starts crawling sideways and bolts for his bike. Running through the field he looks back to see if he's being followed.
What you looking for?
Hearing the voice Michael starts to run quicker. He looks back again and notices he is still alone. He sees his bike leaning against the rail and heads right for it, thinking to himself that with the perfect timing he can clear the fence without stopping. He kicks off his right foot as his he attempts to clear the wire when a voice from behind him mentioning that he'll never reach it.
Now feeling less confident he stumbles on his leap and falls legs split on the sharp wire, smashing his head on the handlebars of the mountain bike. Curled up in a ball, blood pouring from his head and his nuts. The last image he remembers before dying is the alien laughing.
Michael stands in the front entrance of his grandparent’s home, the house is silent; the walls are a freshly painted in Duke blue, remembering this from the collages searches he has been applying to. A song is playing from the living room down the hallway, something he has heard before but can't quite remember. He takes a step amid right when his foot hits the floor the sound of a party emerges from the same room as the music.
He calls again but the party seems too loud to be able to hear anything. He takes off his shoes and puts them on the mat, he starts to go towards the living room when he notices that his feet are covered in a dark sticky liquid and he is leaving foot tracks as he goes. He stops instantly and tries to step back, walking in the exact steps as before when he notices his grandma coming out of the bathroom to the right. She smiles and walks past him, she looks down and sees the stain on the floor. Bending down she sticks her finger in the goo then takes a lick.
You're leaking plasma child, go see grandpa he should be able to fix you up. Where is grandpa, is he throwing a party? No there is no party, it's a funeral dear. Go inside and make a sandwich, there is a tray of meats up front.
Michael walks over to the French doors of the next room and opens them to find that the living room has now become the school gymnasium. In the middle of the room is a white coffin, surrounding it is everyone he has ever known; it seems the entire town decided to show up. He walks over to his grandpa who is handing him a plate and takes it.
Thanks papa, Michael says with a slight embarrassed look, What this? Who's funeral is this papa?
Well boy this is your funeral, but don't fret, come gets something to eat. They both walk over to a line that goes all the way to the coffin.
His papa looks over and says, "I don't know about you but I'm starving" he says. You don't find meat this rare often, the chief says it's the mixed breed that makes it so tasty. His pops reaches over and puts a bun on his and Michael plate. He looks over and sees his classmates laughing and joking around, I guess this isn't such a sad occasion. No the burnt old man says, this is more a brunch then a funeral. He looks over again, Cyndi the woman of his dreams is smiling at him. He stands up a bit and looks to his shoes and notices the slime that was on them before has somehow turned into a black kind of crimson mud. Embarrassed he tries to hide one foot using the other as a shield. She smiles and mouths, bon appétit!
As the line starts to get closer he notices a wonderful smell in the air. A mixture of bacon, roast beef and pizza fills the air. All his favorites wafting past his nose he starts to anticipate the coming meal. He thinks if this tastes as wonderful as it smells he must be in heaven, or at least a close second. His grandfather pulls out a slab of meat and puts it on a bun and hands the knife to him. He says thanks and peers in the coffin to see the feast that smells so good. The knife falls from his hands and slowly tumbles to the floor, what he sees is beyond any type of understanding. He stumbles back as a hand grabs him from behind and pushes him forwards. Nope, it's your turn boy dig in.
Yea says the body that lay’s in the coffin, to good to have a taste, The body says. To Michael’s shock, within the coffin is another him. This one is wearing a lovely suit and seems to be engaged in cutting small slabs of his brain with a small carving knife.
Here it says and brings the knife to his eye, maybe if you eat this you will have a better sense of where your going, and starts to slice up the pretty blue eye that sits in the other his head.
Michael stumbles back gripping with fear, the entire room empties of sound. The townsfolk all turn to stare at him, his gym teacher walks up and grabs his elbow. What you don't like the feast? He says as his grip gets tighter. Everything we've done for you and you can't even appreciate it. You should be more grateful then your constant whining about leaving this place. We are your family, we have kept you safe however after this show of disrespect I think it's time to bury the trash.
All of a sudden the crowd turned and started dumping their plates back in the coffin, a few more hands gather around Michael body as the start to lift him off the ground. What are you doing, let me go. I didn't ask for this meal, I didn't ask to be born in this hick town, I didn't ask for your safety and protection, let me down. They twist him and carry him to the open casket, his meal double smiles, you should have tasted me while you had the chance. You'll be hungry after awhile up there. The hands let go and drop him on top of himself. Please stop, please stopppp.
He opens his eyes and notices that he is still screaming. His body is covered in sweat. He reaches to his head and feels for an open wound but only finds a headache, then he remembers his balls and both hands go right down to check if he still has any. He is in his bed, the clock on the counter shows 11:11. Was it all a dream he thinks as he lifts his head off the pillow. He looks and notices that he is in his pyjamas, he just doesn't remember putting them on.
Michael stands and the room starts to spin, he sits down right away before he falls. Once the motion sickness leaves him, he gets up and walks to the door. The bedroom door of his mothers is open, and he sticks his head in. The slight sound of slumber drifts from her mouth. Something seems off thou, the light in her room seems too bright, he rubs his eyes and looks around. Everything seems so much clearer, he can read the small clock in the kitchen which he could never before, unless he was five feet away. It says 11:11. He walks over to the kitchen to look out the window; he pulls the blinds back to reveal a sky open with stars, each one brighter then the next. They seem to dance in the torrent black sky.
He walks out into the open night, the sound of the crickets seems to surround all around. The sky is a brilliance he has never seen before. The stars are so bright he almost feels like he can touch them. This can’t be real…
As Michael stares into the sky he notices a slight movement from the corner of his eyes. The stars start slowly to twist and swirl. As one moves a second follows faster as if a hole has been unplugged and the sky is draining. In the far top left an eye appears and winks, Michaels stand still, his body starts trembling from his core. Another eye appears as the stars take the form of a face floating high in the night sky. Maybe you're brighter then I give you credit for boy; the face says directing its voice from every direction. There might be still hope for you yet! Who are you? Michael asks. My name is sing. Where am I? You are at my lab, sing starts laughing at the end of the sentence. You should have seen the look on you face it was so funny. Agghh he screams and pretends to flail giant arms made of stars. I wish I had recorded it that would have kept me laughing for a millennium. Agghh! Ha ha ha. Boy I scared the shit out of you. Why do you keep calling me boy, my grandpa use to call me that all the time and I hated it. I know, I can read your mind. I figured It would get your attention quicker. Can you please stop it! I don't really like it. Fine says Sing; I'll call you something you like, how about My'key? I know you like that. Fine as long as you stop calling me boy. Cool well My'key, now that we have introduced ourselves I'm going to wake you up. Just please don't start freaking out again, I have a lot of sensitive equipment here and I don't want to see anything broken. The image before him goes blank; an overwhelming sense of vertigo enters his mind as the sudden feeling of falling becomes reality. He starts drifting down in a unknown abyss. Darkness is all he can see except for a pinhole light off in the distance. The light starts getting brighter, his eyes feeling like a stranger to this new found glow ache from within his skull. He is falling faster as the lights flash from red, blue, red, yellow. Fear starts to grips him, he starts to scream aghhhh when all of a sudden his body hits something cold and hard. He is wet, a slime is covering his eyes and mouth. He tries to claw at the substance when he feels a set of hands rest on his shoulders. Don't worry My'key, it's not like you haven't done this once before. Scared Michael grabs the thick-skinned hand and starts to shake. Song reaches over and stats to clean his face with a damp clothe. Gently taking his time to get all the pieces from his face. Your eyes will hurt for a bit but once they adjust you should notice a complete difference in your vision. Michael squinting tries to speak, his throat feels like its on fire. He tries to speak but a croak is all he can produce. Just relax, sing says. It will take a hour before you feel better. Handing him a slim vile to his lips he asks him to drink this slowly. The taste is bitter, like sucking on the sourest candy, but he does feel better. Clothes your eyes and sleep. I will explain everything when you wake. Michael slips off to sleep, in his dreams he is flying something that looks like a plane over the fields of his house. He sees his home and his mother in the garden pulling weeds. She looks up and waves, the screen in the ship shows her face as a tear slides down her cheek. Don't worry he hears her whispers; this is what you were born to do. The air is heavy, like carrying small wet sacks on the lungs. It tastes sweet against his tongue and smell reminds him of sitting under a cherry blossom in full plume. His heart is pounding in his chest, the sound not helping the headache that seems to building a shop right in the center of the brain. A sharp pain hits his left calf, a dreamy voice says something about this should work and the crew in his head just up and decided to take an early lunch. He tries to open his eyes; the light doesn't hurt as much as it did before. It was like looking through a kaleidoscope that he had as a kid, the colors twisted and unfocused never giving time to settle on just one thing. The room was an eerie white light, almost florescent without the hum. There was no noise in the place just his fear screaming within his mind and his heart beating. He attempts to sit up stumbling a bit; his eyes feel like they are rolling down a hill. He just can’t seem to focus on anything in the room but the light that surrounds him, it’s so beautiful...