Valentine's Day Masquerade
Posted: Monday, February 08, 2010
by Dianne Lehmann
Artisan Jewelry from SyZyGy
Not much goes on in our neighborhood on a daily basis. Neighbors leave to do their shopping, come home, put their cars in their garages and get on with their lives. Most of our direct neighbors are retired. Some of them are old enough that they formed many of their habits in the era when you got up, opened your garage door and left it up all day long. I guess it served as a message to your friends that you were awake, at home, and ready to receive visitors. I can think of no other reason for it. My husband and I are young enough (just barely) that we never acquired that odd habit. Besides, in this day and age, why would you want to send a clear message of when you are home and when you are not?
So I suppose that when someone or something wants to visit my husband and me on the sly, it should be no surprise that it invariably happens in the middle of the night, the wee hours of the morning, during the dark when all is hidden from curious and prying eyes. Why it seems to happen around holidays is still a mystery, however. Maybe it has something to do with the eighth dimension. What do I know?
I do know that I get tired of being awakened in the middle of the night. I need my beauty sleep after all really need it. Hot flashes, husband's snores, twenty-five pound cat (yes, I know, she needs to lose some weight) walking around on me all conspire to wake me on a regular basis. I did not need the front doorbell (we don't actually have a back doorbell, so why I constantly write "front," I don't have a clue) to ring at 2:37 a.m. on February the fourteenth, but it did. Yeesh.
Now, I've been through this before twice to be exact and so I had some idea of what might await me. I thought that I couldn't be surprised, but there I go thinkin' again.
I didn't have to dump our cat, Winnie, on the floor in order to get out of bed. She always hides underneath the bed when the doorbell (see, I can learn, I left off the "front") rings. So I crawled out of my nice warm bed, padded on stockinged feet to the front door and did not switch on the outside light. As I said, I can learn.
If you haven't read any of the other accounts of my middle-of-the-night escapades, you might be wondering why my husband did not also awaken and accompany me to the door. He sleeps with ear plugs in his ears because he claims the slightest sound will awaken him. This is at odds with what I know of his ability to sleep through a train wreck. Well, not literally. But once when we were at Disneyland in Anaheim , California , we both got a bit tired and sat down on a bench near New Orleans Square right by the train station. The locomotive is a steam engine and the stop at that station usually involved letting off a lot of excess steam and the taking on of water. Then there was the whistle and bell, not to mention all the yelling of children and talking of adults. Bernd laid down on the bench with his head in my lap and promptly feel asleep and started snoring. So what's with the ear plugs? Inquiring minds want to know.
Anyway, as before, I was alone at the door and listening intently when the doorbell sounded again, "ding." There is no "dong," that part is busted. So I said very quietly, "Hello?" I was answered back with another quiet, "Hello?"
I thought to myself, "Shoot this nonsense, just open the door." And I did. It was not at all what I expected. If you've read the other middle-of-the-night accounts, you know full well what I expected. What I got was my husband, Bernd, standing on the other side of the security screen door. He was wearing a tuxedo and had a dozen red roses in his left hand and a red, heart-shaped box in his right, which I presumed must surely contain chocolate candies. I did not slam the door shut, but I did close it slowly and quietly without saying a word; which if that really was Bernd, was very rude. I dashed back to the bedroom to confirm my husband's presence in bed. Yes, he was still there snoring softly, which I have always thought is a neat trick considering the size of his nose.
Understand this, Bernd has never in his life worn a tuxedo (not even for our wedding, we did it on the cheap) nor do I expect to ever see him in one (he only just recently bought a long-sleeved dress shirt and a tie because he is looking for a job). I am allergic to roses and he knows this. Also, chocolate gives me migraine headaches and he would never buy chocolate for me. So the "Bernd" at the door had to be some sort of crazy impostor. But why? Inquiring minds oh never mind.
While I was standing over my sleeping Bernd, the impostor Bernd rang the doorbell again. That bell ringing once is annoying enough; ringing three times in the span of just a few minutes is way too much. So I went back to the door, jerked it open and said, "What?!" rather loudly. Impostor Bernd was still standing there just as I'd last seen him. He did not reply to my rather outraged "what." Then I said, "Look, I know that you are not my husband. I just checked and he is still in bed. Besides, he would never bring me roses and chocolate. So what's up with the get up?" I was not expecting any kind of coherent reply because in the past when the two aliens had visited me, they had been completely unable to carry on any kind of real conversation. So imagine my second surprise when Impostor Bernd said, "I had hoped to put you at your ease by appearing to you as someone you know well and trust. Also, at this time of year, it seems that it is appropriate for the love of your life to gift you with flowers and a red box of this shape." At which point he gestured first with the roses and then with the heart-shaped box.
Next, I said, "But you are not my husband and I am allergic to roses and heart-shaped boxes." I wouldn't want the alien to think I made assumptions, after all. I consider myself at least that intelligent.
"As I have stated, I merely wished to put you at your ease," it remarked.
"And exactly how is that supposed to have worked? You're standing there looking like some freaky pod-person replica of my husband and I'm supposed to be all over happy and easy about it. Haven't you watched any of those old sci-fi movies?"
"I do not know to what you are referring," it said.
While I was thinking to myself 'my, what good grammar you have,' I said, "Wow! You guys actually can carry on a real conversation."
To which Impostor Bernd replied, "This rambling discourse you repeatedly indulge in is not a proper conversation. The previous agents were incapable of adapting."
"I knew it! You sent the stupid ones first to see if it was safe. Kinda' like the red-shirted security people in a Star Trek episode. You always knew they weren't goin' home again." I said this with some excitement because that was the conclusion I had come to after the second visitation. Before it could remark, I continued, "So what's a proper conversation look like?"
"A proper conversation can not look like anything. It has no physical reality. I do not understand your question." At that point, I was pretty sure I had him. I was wrong.
In the past, the aliens always wanted me to let them into our house. As you might imagine, I had serious misgivings about the wisdom of doing that. So I was pretty sure that Impostor Bernd was (1) another alien (I mean, who talks like that, and besides, it admitted association with the previous pair), (2) that Impostor Bernd also wanted into our house, and (3) that I had seriously sidetracked it. As I said, I was wrong, because he decided to completely sidestep the whole issue of not understanding what I had meant and said, "Please let me in." It should be noted that I generally like to reward politeness, but in this case "please" just wasn't going to get a blue ribbon from me. At any rate, previously my verbal shenanigans had served to rid me of the aliens' presence.
"Look. I didn't let your compatriots in and I am not about to let you in either. I have no idea what you want. For all I know you want to barbeque my cat or eat my face; neither of which would be good or enjoyable for me. So you can just stay where you are. Better yet vamoose." I was sure there was something in those sentences to throw it for a loop and get it to leave. But no. And there I stood, my side of the bed slowly cooling and my stockinged feet getting colder and colder. Thoughts of bed and a happy dreamland where aliens did not come knocking ringing at your door were starting to overwhelm me with longing.
I was jolted out of my reverie and completely floored when it said to me, "Perhaps you should have inquired." Well, it had me there and with a bit of chagrin I said, "Maybe you are right. So why are you all so darn hot to get into my house?" I was not prepared for the answer.
It said, "Your house occupies a very specific position, not only in time and space, but within the eleventh dimension. It is from the center of the space you refer to as your utility room that the recall signal must be sent." Okay, so I was wrong about the dimension involved. And what's with this intimate knowledge of my house? Creepy.
"Why must it be sent from the center of my utility room? Wouldn't somewhere near to it, like where you are presently standing, do just as well?"
"No."
"Would you care to elaborate?"
"No. It would serve no purpose. You would not understand."
"Okay, so maybe you have seen some of those bad old sci-fi movies wherein the oh-so-smart alien tells the lowly earth person that its science is beyond their ken and to just accept everything they've said as gospel. We mean you no harm and blah, blah, blah, while it blows up the planet."
"I do not mean you any harm. We would very much like to go home."
"Oh," was all I could think to say just then. I stood thinking for just a minute and then said, "So what happens if I let you in?"
"I will enter your utility room, find the exact center of it, place my recall device there and turn it on," was its reply.
"When you turn it on, will it emit harmful radiation or make a bad smell or anything of that nature?"
"No."
All the while thinking that I was being really stupid, I got the key for the security screen door, unlocked it and gestured it inside. Before entering, it made a show of wiping its feet on the door mat and then thanked me for my hospitality. Sure, make me feel like a cad as well as an idiot.
Even close up, it still looked freakishly just like my husband as it walked directly to the utility room without even asking to be shown the way. It didn't move anything like him, though. Then it took a small, round, and shiny black sphere from its pocket. It moved it slowly in the air in front of itself and then the sphere changed abruptly to a mirror finish. It let go the sphere and it stayed right where it was in mid air. Next it took something about the size of my thumb from another pocket, pointed it at the sphere and squeezed it. The sphere returned to shiny black and the alien repocketed it. Impostor Bernd turned to me and said, "Thank you. I will take my leave of you now." And it headed for the front door.
As I was letting it out, I said, "So that's it then? You're all done? I won't be seeing you or your associates again?"
It said, "You have phrased each of your utterances as a statement and spoken them as if they were questions. Many humans do that. I do not understand why. I believe you wish to know if I shall be returning at any time. The answer is no. We have determined, mostly through our contact with you, that the human race is too stupid to ever pose any kind of threat to the rest of the galaxy. Good-bye." And with that, it walked off into the darkness.
Well, slap me in the face. I wasn't at all sure how I felt about that. Except that maybe now, I could sleep soundly knowing no more aliens would be bothering me in the middle of the night. I was wrong about that too.
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Top-level comments on this article: (2 total)Nice story. Sweet how your husband got all dressed up for you! Thanks for sharing.Hi Richard.Thanks. And thank you for reading and commenting.Dianne
Love your imagination and way with words. :)Hi Joyce.Thanks so much. I love words ... always have ... well that could sound stupid, I guess. I love using them in interesting ways. Their meanings and sounds get me going too. I'll stop now before I get too silly. :)Thanks for reading and commenting. I always appreciate it.Dianne
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