MY ENCOUNTER WITH ROSWELL

MY ENCOUNTER WITH ROSWELL

While sitting at my desk chair in my study, trying to find inspiration for a new story, I heard what sounded like someone dragging a large chain across my back porch. Not having a gun to shoot or a dog to bark the best I could hope for was a friend trying to play a prank on me or a very large Racoon that somehow got itself entangled in a large chain. 

When I flipped the light switch and opened the back door I was mildly surprised to see an Alien on my back porch and a bit more surprised to see it had been caught in a bear trap and the chain, perhaps twenty feet long, had an uprooted ground stake at the other end of the chain. And my kind, good-natured heart and soul felt sorry for him. Or she. Or it.

“Little dude, that must really hurt,” I told him or her or it without expecting a coherent reply.

“On my planet we eradicated being able to feel physical pain centuries ago,” It replied and when I registered surprise it continued, “With our advanced knowledge don’t you suppose we’ve already mastered a language as simple as English?”

“Of course, but my slight surprise is in that you speak English with a Southwestern accent.”

“That’s some kind of Earthling joke, right?”

“I thought it was, even as lame as it is,” I replied with a whimsical retort. and then asked him or her or it, “And speaking of lame, why haven’t you freed yourself from the bear trap?”

“Simple enough explanation. With our centuries old focus on developing our mind we sort of, maybe or perhaps neglected our lower body muscles.”

“So you’re hoping a primitive human like myself will free you?”

“Astute observation, Mr. Sherlock Homes, VII.”

“Is this some kind of Alien joke?” I smirked, then tried to taught him or her or it, ”Sort of? Maybe? Perhaps? You guys are not so advanced that you can’t admit you have flaws, are you.”

“We don’t have mental thinking process flaws, Earthling.”

“Okay, Karen.”

“Is that some king of Earthling joke?”

“In a very contemporary, very topical way, yes.” I replied with muted sarcasm, then provided a condition to my helping him, her or it. “I’ll gladly unshackle your left foot, but first I want to ask you some questions.”

“As I already expected you would.”

“If you people are so mentally advance why don’t you use your superior mind power to free yourself from the bear trap?” I justifiably wondered as I sat in a chair on my back porch.

“Because we’re not Jedi Masters.” He, she or it replied while rolling it’s huge eyes, “and we’re not like that little ET guy who used his little finger to heal things.”

“So you’re admitting you people do have flaws?” I teased he, she or it and watched as he, she or it made what must be the universal obscene gesture when he, she or it showed me a middle finger. I laughed, but was hardly finished with the questions. “And your name and the name of your planet?”

“You could not possibly pronounce my name or the name of my planet and certainly couldn’t spell them,” He, she or it responded with what I perceived was inter-planetary arrogance.

“Have it your way and I’ll just call you Roswell.”

“How totally unoriginal!” 

“How about I say goodnight to you, you little smart-a*s punk?” I suggested as I rose from the chair. 

“Come on, Dude! I’ve read some of your supposed humor on that popular Earthling social media site and know you can take a joke as well as try to write something you think is funny.”

“So stalking is an inter-planetary thing? Why doesn’t this surprise me?” I pondered as I sat back down.”

“Advanced, ingrained mental GPS,” He, she or it said as he she or it pointed to a sector near the side of it’s large head. “As soon as I saw your face the image went into my vast data-bank and I read about you in a nano-second.”

“Amazing as that sounds it still sounds like inter-planetary stalking, but with a lame nannoo-nano, old-school television feel to it.” I rebuffed this overly-sensitive Alien in my own whimsical way, then quizzed he or she or it without expecting a simplistic confession, “So, are you male, female or something in between?”

“Yes, because all of the people on my planet can change gender, depending on one’s needs and desires. If I want to produce an offspring I morph into a female. If not, I remain a male. If I never have ‘an itch to scratch,’ as some of your slang means, I remain a whatever. But right now you can call me Mr. Roswell, although that thing they found near that cute little town of Roswell is hardly related to us. So, anything else you want to know?” 

“Can I assume your reproductive organs are internal?” 

“Certainly a sound assumption.”

“And this why your people never wear pants when visiting our planet?”

“Hardly!” Mr. Roswell said as he shook his large head. “No one on your primitive planet makes pants to fit our skinny, boney frames and we’re certainly not going to go to a tailor’s shop and have custom made pants. Anything else on your mind?”

“Do you also eradicated the ability to have or want physical desires fulfilled?”

“If you mean like having crude physical sex like humans and animals do the answer is yes. However, I do get a little stimulated when performing an autopsy or probe. Does this count?

“Hell, no, unless you guys are really kinky that way!”

“Ah, human humor and I perfectly set up the punch line for you!” Roswell smiled as if he was warming up to my style of wit, then asked, “Anything else?”

“I’m pretty sure I know why you guys never get too close to us Earthlings anyway so there’s no need to mention that unless you’re a mind reader, too.”

“Not a mind reader and we can only base possible responses and reactions from the near or more distant future based on past responses and reactions and we really don’t want to become involved in your politics or religions or wars or bigotry.”

“So you just watch and observe us? Of course. But what about the ones of you who actually end up on Earth? Can we call this another advanced mental flaw?”

“You must watch too many Si-Fi films and we don’t have advanced mental flaws. The ones of us who end up here as close encounters simply get careless and if you claim that is just another advanced mental flaw I’ll vaporize you now!”

“With what? Your non-Jedi, non-ET finger?” I mocked my fairly harmless visitor. 

“That’s sort of, almost, kind of funny, and if I’m stuck down here long enough I’ll shift-shape my body and treat you to a cold beer at a local pub.”

“Fine with me as long as you understand I’m not into inter-planetary relationships of a sexual nature.”

For the first time I heard Mr. Roswell laugh, if indeed, this is how people on their planet laugh.

“In order for me to help you, Mr. Roswell, I need you to sat down on the porch with your trapped foot as far away from the rest of your skinny body as you can get it,” I instructed him and asked, “You understand?

“So far.

 

 “Okay and now I’m going to press down with both of my shoes as hard as I can on the opposing bear trap setting bars and when the trap is opened I need you to pull your trapped foot backwards as quickly as possible because I’m an old fart, not a super hero with super strength, and can’t hold those setting bars down long.”

Mr. Roswell seemed to smile and gave me a stereotypical salute as he responded, successfully, to free his foot and responded with a thinly disguised whimper as the bear trap slammed shut again. When on his feet he offered me a handshake I accepted and reached up to pat me on my shoulder, then he turned to stare into the night sky.

“How are you getting back? Are you going to have someone from the mother ship beam you up?”

“That’s funny in a cliche sort of way.”

“You’re the one who watches too many Si-Fi films, not I.”

“I’ve read some of your writing and think it’s pretty damn good and you should stay as original as possible in you creative efforts,” Mr. Roswell professed with a chuckle. “As to me leaving here I won’t explain how because you Earthlings aren’t ready to know.”

“Most of us will never be ready, but how soon?”

“In about one Earthling minute and when I leave I’m leaving you a gift, a gift you justly deserve but not one you’ll be expecting to receive.”

“But before you leave here I have one last question. It you didn’t have the physical strength to open the bear trap how did you manage to pull that stake that was buried in the ground up?”

“It could be that it was my ploy, my excuse to encounter you, to test how you would respond to a visit from someone like me and if this was my intent and you passed the test” Roswell answered as he winked one of his huge eyes. “Or perhaps not. I’ll let you figure that out later.”

I wanted to consider the cryptic reply then but didn’t have time as I watched him step out into the yard, look upward, then touch an area on his large forehead and saw a bright flash and he was gone, at least as far as my perception of gone meant. to me. And as I sat back down in the chair on the porch I thought what that gift could be, other than the inspiration of a new short story no one would believe is based on an actual experience. But then I reminded myself that the experience is the gift.

Reviews

[roarke]

Enjoyed this Mr. Watson, enjoyed. Seems you and I have had similar experiences. (Check out my story Walking with Tassie) It’s obvious the ET’s are trying to communicate with us creatives...who knew they’d have an attitude? Lol I dig your humor and humanness Mr. Watson.

[M.E.Lyle]

Love your sense of humor. I particularly like the He, she, or it part.
Those aliens, you just never know when their going to pop up for dinner.
Loved it.