Making friends, meeting aliens…
For much of my life, the mall has been a place of refuge; a sanctuary of sorts, where I could retreat to when things got really bad. I find it ironic that I should think of the mall as a place where I could hide. I mean, there are hundreds of people walking around the mall at a single time, and that's ten times the number of people walking around the hallways at school; so you'd think I would be nervous, being around so many people. But unlike at school, where you were forced to interact with others—teachers asking you questions about last night's homework, the principal asking you who beat you up after lunch, and the guys who beat you up after school—you weren't obligated to talk to anyone at the mall; save for the occasional store clerk. I could walk through the mall and not have to worry about some seven foot tall beast of a guy beating me up. I could just walk into the arcade and get lost in a few of my favourite games.
The mall was just fifteen minutes walking distance from my high school, but a lot of the more lazy kids would take the bus. I enjoyed walking to the mall; it gave me time to think. And at that moment, I had been thinking of the lioness that had saved my life from Mitch and his buddy, Tim. I could understand why she didn't remember me after four chance meetings in the hallways; I wasn't much to look at. If I'm honest with myself, an electrical outlet is more interesting than me. But I couldn't understand why she felt obligated to save my ass every time she saw me. I mean, there were about three dozen other students in that hallway, but none of them even looked twice at me. Rachel, on the other hand, kept coming to my rescue. I don't know if that had anything to do with her personality, or whatever; maybe she just liked playing the protector. Either way, I'm grateful that she chose to protect me.
I couldn't tell you why I get beat up so often; maybe I just annoy people, for reasons that even they can't understand. Maybe it's just my dumb luck. Sometimes, I wonder if I would be more assertive if I had a father figure growing up; someone to teach me how to defend myself, and to give me advice on how to get girls to notice me…things that a typical father would teach his boy. I'm sure my father would never have tolerated anyone touching his son…but, then again, I could be wrong. Like I said, I've never known either of my parents. I have no idea of what they were like, or if they would have raised me differently than my aunt or uncle. Maybe they were worse than my aunt and uncle. Maybe they really were alive, but social services took me away from them, because they were ill-suited parents. The thought that there were people who were worse than my current guardians made me shudder.
Along the way, I caught a glimpse of a bleach blonde, walking home alone. I recognized her instantly as the daughter of my school's Vice-Principal; Melissa Chapman. I'm not very good at reading facial expressions, but I can tell when somebody was sad; and Melissa Chapman looked all sorts of sad at that moment. She was slouching as she walked, which was strange, since I've never actually seen a teenage girl slouch. Slouching was something guys were known for doing; and even then, only certain guys would slouch. She had her backpack slung over one shoulder, and let her right arm hang by her waist. She stopped at a red light, before walking down the street. I know what it's like to feel lonely, or upset. I actually thought about talking to Melissa; maybe I could cheer her up. Then, I came to my senses. I didn't think Melissa would want to be seen with me any ways. And who was I to take pity on someone else?
I assumed that Melissa was walking towards the mall, since I had been walking behind her for at least ten minutes. I swear, the way I had been walking behind her, you would have thought that I was her private stalker. A strange kid walking behind a good-looking blonde girl, wearing all black, and taking slow strides as he walked could only be bad news. Even I started to think it was weird. I decided to cross the street, and took a different route to the mall. Not that it would have made much of a difference.
By the time I got to the front entrance of the mall, I lost complete sight of Melissa Chapman. I wasn't pleased or displeased by that. For one thing, I didn't know anything about Melissa, so walking with her would have been extremely awkward. And yet, I was starting to wish that I had someone walking around the mall with me. Maybe I could have made a real friend, if only I had said a few kind words to Melissa Chapman. Sure, it would have been a bit awkward, but at least I would have been seen with an actual human being for a change. Being alone gets very old, very fast. I made a silent vow that I would speak to the next person that I knew from school.
The mall in my town wasn't nearly as big as most of the places that you would see outside of town. But if you wanted to go to one of the more extravagant places, you would have to take a thirty minute car ride into the city. Our town mall was decent, nothing to sneeze at. It was a good way to spend a Friday night with friends, if you happened to have one of those lying around. This mall had over a hundred stores, but most of them were boutiques and clothing stores; places like Sears or Wal-Mart. There were a handful of kid's places, an arcade—my home away from home— and a book store. There was a large food court, with a Taco Bell, KFC and a Cinnabon being some of the more popular places to eat. I usually avoided the food court, since I was more likely to bump into someone from school.
Speaking of people from school, I spotted a kid I had seen at school a few days before. I was sitting by myself in the cafeteria at the time; a rare sight, since I usually eat by my locker. I noticed a kid my age walking around, looking around the cafeteria to find a place to sit. I took one look at him and knew that he was a new kid. But it had nothing to do with the fact that I've never seen him before; because, really, how many kids can claim that they know everyone from their school? No, it was the way he looked that did it. He had all the tell-tale signs of being a new kid: the awkward way he shifted his feet in the middle of the cafeteria; the nervous look in his eyes that reminded me a lot of my own; and that air about him that told me that this kid didn't belong. I thought he would see me, sitting alone; isolated like he was. I thought that the two of us, being natural loners, could become good friends. But he found a seat at an empty table on the other side of the cafeteria. I watched as he scowled while he ate his burger and fries. I never saw David in the cafeteria after that.
I thought about sitting next to David. He was alone again, wearing that same scowl on his face. I started to get the impression that he was generally an angry kid, someone with a short fuse. I stood there, in the middle of the food court, staring at David, and trying to decide whether I should talk to him or not. I know I promised myself that I would talk to the next kid I knew, but I didn't want to bother David. I know I wouldn't be too eager to speak to someone when I just wanted to be alone. Maybe he was having a bad day…there was no need to bother him.
I decided to leave the food court and head to my initial destination; the arcade. I had both of my pockets filled with quarters, and twitching thumbs on both hands. I had my eye on Space Invaders, but there were a few kids lined up to play. I would have to settle for Galacta-Quest, which wasn't nearly as good, but decent. It was your typical space adventure game: you're the hero, and your mission is to blow the crap out of the invading aliens. Space Invaders, not to be confused with its 70's counterpart, was very similar to Galacta-Quest: you're fighting off an invasion by blasting the crap out of aliens. But unlike Galacta-Quest, you had ten times as many weapons, and a variety of aliens to vanquish. In Galacta-Quest, you only had three weapons, and only five aliens to kill. Also, Galacta-Quest was a three-level single player; Space Invaders was a multi-player game.
That's another reason I don't play Space Invaders often; most times you need two players. There were a few times in the past where I could find another kid to play with me, but it didn't happen very often. And I usually waited for someone else to ask me if they could play, not the other way around. I hate asking people to play with me. I always feel as though I'm bothering them; like I was asking them for the sun and moon. Suffice to say, I play Galacta-Quest a lot.
I walked up to the machine, somewhat disappointed. I put a few quarters into the machine, and watched as the trailer started.
"Are you ready?" the game asked me. "Are you ready to become a hero?"
"Sure, why not." I mumbled, waiting for my game to start. I always hated the trailers. It's like the ones that you see at the theaters. Nobody's paying good money to watch a short clip of something that they don't want to see, they're paying to see the main attraction.
"It won't be easy, guy." The machine warned me. "This isn't your standard human war…this is the big leagues. You're the planet's only hope. You alone stand between hordes of power-hungry aliens and total world conquest."
"You've got the wrong guy," I mumbled. "You're going to be disappointed."
"I hope you're ready for this, kid." The voice in the machine sighed. "Gear up, and get going."
I played the game for a good twenty minutes. Like I said, Galacta-Quest only had three levels; and it's not exactly the most difficult game in the arcade. Once I beat the final boss—some sort of grey reptilian creature that could breathe fire—I walked away from the machine. I noticed that Space Invaders was vacant, so I decided to try my hand at that game. Who knows, maybe I could get somebody to play with me…
"Your ass is so whooped!"
Marco and Jake walked into the arcade, and they were making their way towards Space Invaders. So much for that game…
"In your dreams, my friend," Jake said, grinning at Marco.
"Care to put your money where your mouth is, Big Jake?" Marco taunted, taking out a five dollar bill. "Winner pays for the next five games."
"You're on, shorty." Jake laughed. He inserted a few quarters and turned to Marco. "Let's do it."
You did say you would speak to the next person you knew from school, a voice in my head said.
I don't want to bother Jake…And Marco doesn't like me very much.
You're wimping out. Your fear of rejection is ruining your life.
I watched the two friends playing their game, looking happier than I had ever been in my entire life.
You could have friends too, if you would just open up a bit…
It's not only me that's the problem…people just don't like me…
You're making excuses. Has anyone actually said they don't like you, to your face?
Mitch…Tim…half of the guys in my class…yea, they've all said they don't like me…
Rachel likes you…
Rachel pities me…
Just go over there and talk to them; you know you want to!
Of course I want to. But I won't…
Do you want to be alone forever?
Of course not…
Then say something, you idiot!
It would be awkward though…What do you say to the guy who stopped a couple of goons from using your head as a toilet plunger?
Try a simple 'hey, what's up?'
Stuff like that never works for me. I'm not the 'hey what's up' kind of guy.
You're making excuses. You're just afraid. You could have spoken to David and Melissa. I mean, they're just like you; desperate for friends…
I wouldn't say I'm desperate…maybe I'm better off on my own?
Are you seriously going to argue with yourself?
I must have looked like a complete freak; standing in the middle of the arcade, watching two guys. I took a deep breath, and walked over to where Marco and Jake were standing. I was going to do it; I was going to talk to them. I was going to say, hey, guys. Would you mind if I played? And they would look up at me, taking their eyes away from their game, and they would say…
I walked past Marco and Jake, and they didn't even look up at me.
You're a coward, you know that?
Yes. I was definitely a coward. All I had to say was hello, but I chickened out. Actually, chicken wasn't the word I would have used, but I don't think my word would be very appropriate. Nevertheless, I was a coward. I was a stupid, gutless coward who desperately wanted to make friends, but didn't want to have to go through all the rejection that might have followed. Saying something like hello to Big Jake Berenson—younger brother of Tom Berenson, who was on the senior basketball team—was like climbing Everest; impossible. And trying to talk to Marco, who already didn't like me, may as well have been the equivalent of taking a quick trip to the moon.
I walked out of the arcade, away from the two good friends enjoying a Friday at the mall. I sulked a bit, walking back towards the food court. I was craving a nice combo meal from Taco Bell. To me, Taco Bell was fine dining at a five star restaurant. My uncle had very little money, so he wasn't going to say, "hey, Tobias, let's go out to Moxie's for a meal. My treat!" any time soon. And I still had a lot of money left over.
No…not the food court…I thought to myself. I might as well just head home…call it a night.
I took a sharp left, and headed towards one of the exits by the Sears; that would lead to the parking lot across from the Construction Site. I would have to sneak into my uncle's house before he sobered up and noticed that I was home. If I wanted to get home fast, I would have to take a short cut through the construction site.
The construction site was completely abandoned; with the exception of a bulldozer or two that the city never got around to removing. It was supposed to be some grand office building for a promising business company from out of state, but the company went under. And without much funding from the city, the project had been abandoned. Ever since, parents have told their kids never to step foot near the construction site; it was dangerous, there could be drifters hanging about.
I was never told such a thing. Nobody warned me not to go near the construction site, because nobody really cared enough to tell me. I've heard kids from school complaining about missing out on some underground party, because their parents wouldn't let them go near the site. I couldn't blame the caring parents; the place was a death trap. There were a variety of beer bottles and trash scattered about, and rusted pipes sticking out at odd angles. The site had been abandoned for a long time. It should have been left as it was before; as a forest.
It was dark now, and the moon was out. From behind me, I could hear familiar voices; the voices of some kids I knew from school.
"We could cut through the construction site," one of the girls suggested.
"Are you insane?" A male voice cried out. "I don't need some axe murderer chopping off this face."
"A face only a mother could love," the same girl replied. They were getting closer now. I was standing pretty close to the site. If it hadn't been so dark, I may have been able to make out their faces. But I didn't need to see them to know exactly who they were. Jake, Marco, Rachel and a girl named Cassie were debating on whether or not they should cut through the construction site.
"Come on Marco," Jake said. "We need to protect the girls."
"As if we need protecting," Rachel replied.
"I pity the axe murderer who tries to take on Xena." Marco laughed. "Hey…I think I see something…"
"I don't see anything…" Jake said. "You're imagining things, Marco."
"No, look; right there." Marco insisted. "Someone is standing right there, by the dozer."
"I see him, too." Cassie said. "It's too dark to tell who it is, though…"
"I'm telling you, it's a psycho drifter!" Marco cried. "I'll catch you kids later. I'm taking the long way home."
"Maybe we should follow Marco," Cassie suggested. "The construction site might be too dangerous after all."
"Come on, Cass," Rachel said. "It's probably just some guy having a bit of fun."
"Sorry, Rachel, but I think I'm going to take the safe way home." Cassie said. "I'll call you tomorrow." The shadowy figure that was Cassie ran after Marco.
"I think I'm going as well," Jake told Rachel. "Hey, Cassie, wait up!"
I couldn't be sure, but I thought I saw Rachel hanging back from across the street. The other figures running in the distance were doubtlessly Cassie and Jake, trying to catch up with Marco. I thought that Rachel would cut through the site anyway, being the lioness she was. But she didn't. She called after her friends to "wait up", and ran off into the dark. And I stood by the construction site alone.
I sighed and continued to make my way through the trash, and the dirt, and the concrete, and the beer bottles, and the millions of other sharp pointy things that littered the ground around the site. I nearly nicked myself trying to walk over a busted beer bottle, and I had to grab hold of a rusted pipe to keep my balance. I stopped after hearing an odd crunch beneath my feet. I stepped on a bottle.
"Great…" I mumbled. "Just my freaking luck…Now, I'll have to get a shot…"
I looked up at the sky, and a bright light caught my eye. Too close to be a shooting star, and far too bright to be an airplane. Whatever this strange light was, it couldn't have been more than a few hundred feet up in the air. But it looked like it was getting closer. It looked as though this strange light was heading right towards me. Soon, it would be close enough for me to see just what it was.
It was a spaceship of some kind…Honestly, it was! It looked like something out of Space Invaders, but it was nothing close to those alien spaceships that you'd see in those old movies from the fifties. For one thing, it wasn't round, like the ships reported to have been seen during the thirties. This ship was smaller, and more complex. It was shaped like an egg, but it looked narrow at the end. Attached at the sides were two wings, with long tubes that glowed. The object at the rear of the ship, tail-like in shape, dominated the space craft. It was amazing…it was beautiful…it was coming right at me!
I dove behind a concrete wall a few feet away, watching as the ship touched ground. It seemed to land without making too much noise; like the ship wasn't there at all. But it was there. It was far too real to be a dream. A real spaceship had landed in my town, right before my eyes! And, if there was a real live spaceship, then there must be a real live alien! And I was probably the first person on earth to ever see an alien up close!
I wish I had a camera, so I could bring back proof of the alien's existence. I didn't have a camera, of course, but I could have bought a disposable one from the convenience store. But how would I have known to buy one? It's not like I woke up this morning thinking, note to self, buy a camera to document first sighted landing of extra-terrestrials. I woke up this morning thinking, man, I hope nobody kicks my ass today…
I waited for the alien to come out. I would tell the alien that I meant him no harm; that I was defenseless. But he didn't come out. For the longest time, the ship just sat there. I suddenly came out from behind my hiding place, and walked towards the glowing spacecraft. I stared at it for a moment longer before finally shouting, "You can come out…I'm not going to hurt you…"
There was a moment of silence before I got a response.
((I know.))
I heard the alien…but I heard his voice in my head. He was speaking to me through telepathy; using thoughts as a form of communication.
"Can you come out?" I asked, still unsure of how I was able to hear this…creature in my head. Were all aliens telepathic, or just this one?
((Yes, do not be frightened.)) He told me.
"I won't be scared…" I told him. In some sense, I really wasn't. But there was also a tiny voice in the back of my head telling me to run; run fast!
The door of the spaceship opened, but not in the conventional way. This door slid open with a whoosh, and emitted a blinding light from its interior. I could only just make out the shape of the creature that stepped out slowly from the ship. He looked like a centaur, but his fur was blue. His face was oddly humanoid, but nothing close to what a human face looked like all at once. He had four eyes—two in the middle of his face, just above what I believed to be the alien's nose, and two more eyes resting on stalks, placed on top of the alien's head. The most threatening part of this alien was his tail; scorpion-like, with a deadly blade at the end. And the voice in my head was screaming now!
((Hello.)) He said, calmly.
The screaming in my head ceased. I was calm now, no longer feeling threatened by this strange, and seemingly dangerous alien. It had something to do with the way he spoke to me—or rather, the way he didn't speak to me—that did it. Nobody with such a calming voice could be much of a threat…right?
That's when I saw it. Right in the middle of the alien's flank was a deep, gash. It looked fatal, yet the alien didn't scream. He remained composed, and watched me with all four of his eyes.
"You're hurt!" I said, as though the alien was completely oblivious to his own pain.
((Yes, I am dying.)) He told me. He seemed almost accepting of this, like it was a fact.
"I can help you…" I offered. "I could call an ambulance, or maybe…I can try to cover up the wound…or…"
((No, I will die. The wound is fatal.)) He told me.
"But you're the first alien to land on earth!" I told him. "I can't let you die…you can't die!"
((No...I am not the only one.)) He told me. ((There are others here on earth.))
"Others…you mean, like you?"
The alien's next words were still calm, but filled with the utmost resentment.
((They are not like me. They are different.)) And before I could say, different how? He added, ((They have come to destroy you…))
