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I Think I Saw A UFO

by Om Prakash John Gilmore about a year ago in science fiction
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And a Disguised Alien

Starry Night

I Think I Saw A UFO

John W. Gilmore

"I don't know what happened, Marge. All I know is that I saw it right in front of me, except," he looked up and motioned with one finger pointing and his hand flapping at the wrist. Her eyes followed his finger. "Up there. Right up there all around. UFO!"

She looked at him, trying to hold back, but her smile soon forced itself out, through tightened lips, into a full blown burst of laughter.

"Marge, I can't believe you! I'm pouring my heart out here, okay? And here you are laughing!" She paused for a moment and then exploded again. He frowned.

"I am so sorry, Burt. But the last thing I expected to hear from you today is that you saw a flying saucer."

"Well I did! Not only that. I saw...an alien." She put her hands on her hips and flattened her lips. She would have looked sexy, had she not been Marge. Marge and Burt had known each other forever. Their parents had been business partners at the first Coop ever in Dothan, Alabama. They played together on the farm, worked together in the stores and even went to school together most of the time."

They even looked alike, dark hair, black almost, and dark brown eyes...a Mediterranean look. That emaciated look that people who ate little and worked a lot often had, compared to those who ate a lot and worked a little. She was about 5'6" he about 5'8," very close to the same height. People often thought they were siblings, but they knew better, even though it felt that way sometimes.

Everyone also thought they were nuts, along with their families, selling sprout sandwiches and guacamole to poor country folk and farmers in the sixties and seventies before it was fashionable. Surprisingly, it turned out that country folk liked all that healthy food. Eventually the Coop became something more, a combination of an organic vegetable fair and green grocery store.

A lot of the farmers decided they could start growing organic themselves and outlet their products through the Coop. They were ecstatic about the prospect of farming the old way, and especially raising animals the old way, and of course making more money. That was always good. It took time, but they did it; created a country fair that was green, organic, and successful before it was in fashion. Over the years his parents opened more stores and helped many other farmers go organic. Here they were growing up in the deep South being raised by hippies from Berkley, doing all the strange things hippies did, in the farmers eyes, including talking about extraterrestrials.

During the late fifties and early sixties there were movies and reports about UFOs attacking the Earth everywhere in pop culture. Since his parents were political and well educated, these things frequently came up in their conversations.

The farmers really thought they were crazy then, but enjoyable. One night Ray, one of the biggest skeptics, was downtown helping clean the church with some friends after the Wednesday Night Service, as he had done just about every week for the last 20 years. While they were walking back to their cars they saw a UFO right in the center of town. At first Burt didn't believe them when they told him they saw a flying saucer.

Every time he passed one of their booths at the farmers market one of them would grab his arm and tell him about seeing a flying saucer. He thought they were just jiving him, but after talking with them and after the rumors began to spread all over town, he began to believe it, and to explore all the data he could find on extraterrestrials. There was powerful evidence, but Marge just kept refusing to believe. He shook his head.

"And what did this alien actually look like?" Marge finally asked, her voice, a botched attempt to bury her scorn and skepticism. Burt was hesitant. "Well get on with it!" She said a bit louder than she wanted. He was still a bit hesitant, but that soon passed.

"He looked kind of like...a dog," Burt said.

Her lips became an "O" for a few moments. "A dog? And what type of dog did this alien look like?" She finally asked fighting to contain herself and doing a pretty good job, except for the fast tapping left foot. She finally stopped when she noticed him looking at her foot, looked up, and smiled warmly.

"A really big dog," He said, smiling himself.

"Are we talking like...a Chubaka type big dog here, or German Shepherd, or what?"

"Not that big, but big. Something like an Astro type dog. What was he, a Great Dane or something?"

"That was a little before my time, but I think so; with a fish bowl on his head as a space helmet, or something like that."

"This one had one of those too, but he wasn't black like Astro, he was white."

"I think Astro was gray," she said. "Yet again on a black and white TV set, you only have two choices. Let's not forget the 'one drop rule' either. In any case we're talking about a white dog with a fishbowl on his head. Must be reverse equal opportunity or something," she said, grinning.

"Yes," Burt agreed. "Or they knew that whites were the dominant culture here in the United States."

Hands on hips. "We live in Dothan, Alabama, Burt. I hardly think whites are the dominant culture here." He shrugged.

"Well they have the most power."

"That's people, Burt. Not white dogs. I don't think color means that much to dogs, but I do know one thing, if a dog sees a white Great Dane with a fishbowl on his head walking down the street it will know that he's not from around here." She crossed her arms. "I take it that it was a he."

"It took a while to find out, but I think so. At first I couldn't check. It was wearing trousers."

"It was wearing trousers. And what kind of trousers was it wearing, Burt?"

"They were tight... latex. Very tight."

"And you couldn't check for his package or lack thereof."

"I didn't want to embarrass him, or me, Marge. Jeeze! What would an alien think if I was trying to check his package?"

"You said he looked like a dog. He might have expected you to shove your face in there."

"Like a dog. I didn't say he was one!"

"I stand corrected. Did he bark?"

"No. He talked like Astro, adding Rs to the front of all his words."

"A Scooby DOO type thing?"

"Yes. That's it. I knew he reminded me of someone."

"So alien life is a white Astro wearing a Latex suit? I take it that he had a matching top."

"Of course."

"Who had a diction like Scooby DOO?"

"That's only one type of alien, Marge."

"And what happened to this alien?"

"I feel a little embarrassed."

"You do?"

"Yeah. I told him he looked like a dog."

"So it was a he?"

"Sure was. Once he learned that our dogs walked around in the nude he stripped down right there and went incognito. He's at my house now."

"Toby, the dog you got from the shelter last week is really an alien."

"That was just a cover. That dog didn't come from any shelter," shaking his head. "He came from an alien flying saucer!"

"Oh, Burt..."

"And he is offering," he looked around to make sure no one was listening, "to take us on a flight this very afternoon. You interested? He's waiting in my pickup right over there." He motioned with his chin.

The truck was parked about 20 feet away in the shadows under the low hanging branch of a large oak. "He's in the back lying down."

"You serious? He must be well trained. He hasn't made a peep."

"He's not well trained, Marge. He's an alien."

"Sure he is, Burt. Let's go over there right now, wake up your alien friend, and take a couple of laps around the solar system!" She began to march toward the truck, angrily. He grabbed her arm just above the elbow.

"Wait a minute. Don't be ridiculous." He pulled out his cell phone. "I can call him." She rolled her eyes and stood there with her arms crossed again as he punched in a phone number. She could hear a phone ring in the back of the truck. Burt covered the mouthpiece with his hand and whispered loudly, "He doesn't like texting. He's got no thumbs." She shook her head.

"Hey Toby. How's it going? Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you up. Just wanted to let you know she's going for it. We can go right now?" He looked at Marge. She spread her hands. "Yeah, Tobe. Right now." He shut the phone and put in his pocket.

"He's on the way over." She saw a large white dog stand up in the back of the truck. Just looked like a dog to her. He stretched and yawned. With a few gainly steps he cleared the tailgate and headed in their direction.

Marge could hear the screech of tires as a fast moving car heading for Toby slammed on the brakes. It stopped just inches from panic strickened Toby.

"Dumb dog! Why don't you watch where you're going?"

"Rorry ran. Roo ralmost rade mree shrit mryself," he responded, with a grin on his face. Marge felt her knees buckle and she fainted for the first time in her life.

Burt caught her before she hit the ground.

"Toby, man, I told you not to talk in public."

R all right. Ryou right Mran...shriiiiit!"

"I can see you're really mastering the language," Burt said rolling his eyes.

The End

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science fiction

About the author

Om Prakash John Gilmore

John (Om Prakash) Gilmore, is a Retired Unitarian Universalist Minister, a Licensed Massage Therapist and Reiki Master Teacher, and a student and teacher of Tai-Chi, Qigong, and Nada Yoga. Om Prakash loves reading sci-fi and fantasy.

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