Alien Coffee by John H. Carroll Page A

in
the bottom. With a growl of frustration, she slammed her pen on the
manuscript and stood up. Jillian grabbed the cup and stomped down
the stairs yet again to refill it.
    Fifteen minutes later she climbed back up the
stairs with a bowl of fresh cut fruit. Jillian set it on the
computer desk and prepared to check her favorite sites. Before
sitting, she stomped back down the stairs to get the coffee she had
forgotten yet again.
    A short while later she was reading an
article on how ereaders were nearing their death. It seemed silly
considering they had only just become popular. Before taking a
drink, she looked at the cup. Sure enough, it was empty again.
Jillian was certain she had only taken a couple of sips.
    “Alright! Who drank my coffee?!” she called
out while standing up suddenly. “Raymond, are you doing this?”
Jillian knew her husband wasn’t there, but couldn’t think of who
else might be taking her drink. In frustration, she swung her arm
back and forth violently as she walked back to the stairs.
    Her arm slammed hard into something unseen at
the top step, causing Jillian to freeze in shock. Everything was
still and silent for a brief moment before a vague silhouette
appeared halfway down the stairs then tumbled to the bottom. The
thud of a body hitting the bottom was abrupt and loud.
    Jillian stared at the alien figure that
materialized. Its skin was yellow green and mottled, appearing
somewhat slimy. The being was dressed in a tight silver suit with a
utility belt and what appeared to be a holstered gun on one of its
three legs. The limbs were set at even intervals, two to the sides
and one behind like a tripod. Its face was wide with three
horizontal, deep-set blue eyes. It had four ears, two set
vertically on each side of its oversized bald head. Its mouth was a
tubular appendage with big puckered lips like those found in a bad
comic book.
    “You pushed me down the stairs, dude! That
hurt!” it accused. Odd sounds came from the puckered lips while the
words Jillian heard came from the collar of its silver suit. She
instantly got the impression it had some sort of translating device
like sci-fi authors wrote about in several of the stories she
edited. Its voice wasn’t tinny like in those stories, it was high
pitched and nasal, yet sounded vibrant as though spoken with a
human’s tone.
    The creature grabbed a railing with one of
its three hands, if that’s what they were, and stood up. Each arm
had three fingerlike appendages with suction tips like an octopus.
It was comprised of threes: three arms, three legs and three eyes.
The four ears and one mouth seemed very much out of place. Jillian
couldn’t see any sort of a nose.
    “Dude! Are you just going to stare like a
nitwit? You pushed me down the stairs and broke the invisibility
thingy.” The alien, as Jillian figured it must be, smacked a square
silver box on the left side of its belt a few times. The device had
a blue pad that looked to be cracked. All three eyes focused on
her. “I know you can speak. How about an apology, Jillian?”
    The fact that it knew her name alarmed her.
Jillian opened her mouth to speak, only to let out a long, piercing
shriek of terror instead. She was dismayed by her own delayed
reaction. Only girls in horror movies were supposed to behave like
that. Jillian was a sensible woman who could handle emergencies, or
so she thought before being faced by a slimy looking creature who
knew her name.
    The alien cringed at the sound, pulling back
and covering its ears with two hands. After the scream died down,
it put one hand on a hip and a second out to the side in a gesture
of disbelief. The third, which was in the middle of its back,
reached up and rubbed its bald head. “Really? You push me down the
stairs, stare at me like I’m a monster or something and then scream
at me?” It continued to move its lips and make the odd squishy
sounds.
    “Wha . . . wha . . . who . . . how . . . I .
. . gah,” Jillian stammered.