Cu-tah Than Shakira

As the story will appear in my forthcoming collection ‘The Ombudsman’s Ombudsman’, I am just leaving here the first page as a taster.

This story is meant to be about someone who was determined to be taken away by aliens. The idea is that he was a hick before they got to him and became more lucid and intelligent as they did their work on him.

As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be abducted.

 

Maybe I should specify that I mean by aliens. This planet’s not for me and from what I have seen of it from my vantage point in Price, Utah, the great beyond doesn’t seem all that great from Google Earth. I have a friend who was on his way to Salt Lake City but got to Provo and turned back, I think that tells you enough about our dumb bowl to launch a call out to the stratosphere, donthch’all think?

 

At school I knew I was done for something beyond this planet. I tried to get on with the other kids, but it was like they was speaking another language, I still remember a nerdy guy telling to not split infinitives, I never did find out what he was on about. All I know is that he now lives in a trailer-park and I make seven-fifty an hour after tax at Walmart. I’d say I split him good.

 

The noises came at night. When I was 12 it was hell in school. I couldn’t concentrate, and the others laughed at me. I recognise now telling them that when my alien friends finally made it to Earth they would zap them with the old ray gun was not pretty dumb even by my standards. It was only when the noises came to me, exclusively to me, well then, I knew that it would be worth my while to ride out the time on this lowly planet. They would see the real me.

 

Now I am back and can write this story. The first part I couldn’t do because before they took me, I could barely write me name. The second part I couldn’t do because they hadn’t taken me yet and I didn’t have a story. Oh jeez, I sure am come a long way since that hick went up in the spacecraft!

 

My psychologist (who has now offered to be my editor and publisher) told me to structure the story. I’m better now at words, what does she call it? Letterate? But I still have troubles. You gotta see that I was just some dumb kid that the system failed to look after, the Utah school board couldn’t see my potential, but the guys from the sky did.

 

They came for me on the day of my eighteenth birthday. Mom threw a party, but nobody came. Not even my sister came, jeez I hoped she would be first against the wall when the ray guns were primed. As I ate my cake alone in the kitchen (I am not allowed to eat in the living room, anyway that is where Mom and Pop’s friends were celebrating my birthday), the lights came. I had always hoped for something like that scene in Close Encounters, even the screws undoing out of the grate, but there was just a light, the living room door opened I could see the others, frozen, like a photo, then a hand came out and asked me “D’ya wanna go to space?”.

 

 

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