just throw himself right on the floor.
I feel the bass and drums right through my body. People are screaming. Pumping their fists in the air. Even I am. I look over at Posey and she’s screaming, too. Laughing and singing. The tune is infectious. And I think I’d like to kiss her. And I think that Hooper might not be an alien. And it doesn’t matter. It’s not scary that he is or that he isn’t. Because everyone here is an alien. Posey with her burnt boob. Me with my dark cloud. Darwyn with his sad brown eyes. That girl over there with the blue hair. Or that dude with his beltless pants showing his butt crack. Or that older woman with the tattoos on her face.
And all that matters is this moment and the sound that’s in it.
60.
Before we reach the car, I stop. They deserve to know.
“I have to tell you guys something,” I say.
“What?” Posey asks.
I look at Hooper. Maybe he’s an alien, or maybe he’s not. I don’t need to out him as a faker. Just like he would never deny me what I think happened. But Darwyn and Posey, they deserve something closer to the truth.
Truth is truth is truth is truth.
“We’re going to a space launch — it’s just not the one you think we’re going to.”
“But we’re on the road to the Mojave Space Port,” Posey says.
“I don’t understand,” Darwyn says.
“I’m an extraterrestrial,” Hooper says. “And I’m meeting a spaceship in the desert to hitch a ride home.”
He points to the sky.
Posey swears under her breath.
“So there is no civilian space launch?” Darwyn asks. “I’m confused.”
“No, there is one,” Posey says. “I have the info here on my phone.”
“We’re just not going to that launch,” I say. “Is this some kind of joke?” Posey asks. “No,” Hooper says. “I don’t joke. I am an alien.” “I don’t know if I believe you,” Darwyn says. “You look human. Statistics imply that alien life will be alien.”
“That’s fair,” Hooper says. “But the rendezvous is very soon. Either it’s true or I’m lying. But I have to be there.” “Did you know?” Posey asks me. I nod.
“And you didn’t tell us?” she says. I shrug.
“What is wrong with you?” she says. “We need to talk.” She waves me and Darwyn over. Hooper starts to join us. “Alone,” Posey says.
Hooper hangs back and we three walk out of earshot. “He wants to go home,” I say. “There’s no such thing as aliens,” Posey says. “Yeah, statistically, it’s not very encouraging,” Darwyn chimes in. “It seems more and more likely that we are alone.”
“I don’t believe that’s true,” I say.
“You think Hooper is really an alien from outer space?” Posey asks.
“I don’t know,” I say. “But he might be.” “I might be a secret princess, and Darwyn might be the reincarnation of Einstein,” Posey says. Darwyn guffaws.
“I believe that aliens have visited us,” I tell them.
“There’s no proof of that,” Darwyn says. “Rumors. Speculation. Conspiracy theories. But no proof.”
This is the moment. I look up at the stars.
It’s impossible to be out in the desert and not stare up at the stars. They dot the night. They twinkle. They hang like jewels. Every star a sun. Every single one.
“I was taken,” I say. “Four years ago, I was taken.”
It hangs there between us. My truth. Told not to a group that is predisposed to believe me. Not to a man who thinks he’s an alien. But to two people.
“Oh, Mal,” Posey says.
For a long time, no one says anything. Darwyn gets more and more uncomfortable the longer the silence goes on. He shifts on his feet.
“Okay, what if he is?” Posey asks.
“All we have to do is drop him off at these coordinates,” I say.
“That’s it,” she says.
We all look over at Hooper. He gives us a little wave. We all wave back.
“You realize that he’s probably just a crazy person?” Posey says.
“Aren’t we all a little bit crazy?” I ask.
“I don’t
I feel the bass and drums right through my body. People are screaming. Pumping their fists in the air. Even I am. I look over at Posey and she’s screaming, too. Laughing and singing. The tune is infectious. And I think I’d like to kiss her. And I think that Hooper might not be an alien. And it doesn’t matter. It’s not scary that he is or that he isn’t. Because everyone here is an alien. Posey with her burnt boob. Me with my dark cloud. Darwyn with his sad brown eyes. That girl over there with the blue hair. Or that dude with his beltless pants showing his butt crack. Or that older woman with the tattoos on her face.
And all that matters is this moment and the sound that’s in it.
60.
Before we reach the car, I stop. They deserve to know.
“I have to tell you guys something,” I say.
“What?” Posey asks.
I look at Hooper. Maybe he’s an alien, or maybe he’s not. I don’t need to out him as a faker. Just like he would never deny me what I think happened. But Darwyn and Posey, they deserve something closer to the truth.
Truth is truth is truth is truth.
“We’re going to a space launch — it’s just not the one you think we’re going to.”
“But we’re on the road to the Mojave Space Port,” Posey says.
“I don’t understand,” Darwyn says.
“I’m an extraterrestrial,” Hooper says. “And I’m meeting a spaceship in the desert to hitch a ride home.”
He points to the sky.
Posey swears under her breath.
“So there is no civilian space launch?” Darwyn asks. “I’m confused.”
“No, there is one,” Posey says. “I have the info here on my phone.”
“We’re just not going to that launch,” I say. “Is this some kind of joke?” Posey asks. “No,” Hooper says. “I don’t joke. I am an alien.” “I don’t know if I believe you,” Darwyn says. “You look human. Statistics imply that alien life will be alien.”
“That’s fair,” Hooper says. “But the rendezvous is very soon. Either it’s true or I’m lying. But I have to be there.” “Did you know?” Posey asks me. I nod.
“And you didn’t tell us?” she says. I shrug.
“What is wrong with you?” she says. “We need to talk.” She waves me and Darwyn over. Hooper starts to join us. “Alone,” Posey says.
Hooper hangs back and we three walk out of earshot. “He wants to go home,” I say. “There’s no such thing as aliens,” Posey says. “Yeah, statistically, it’s not very encouraging,” Darwyn chimes in. “It seems more and more likely that we are alone.”
“I don’t believe that’s true,” I say.
“You think Hooper is really an alien from outer space?” Posey asks.
“I don’t know,” I say. “But he might be.” “I might be a secret princess, and Darwyn might be the reincarnation of Einstein,” Posey says. Darwyn guffaws.
“I believe that aliens have visited us,” I tell them.
“There’s no proof of that,” Darwyn says. “Rumors. Speculation. Conspiracy theories. But no proof.”
This is the moment. I look up at the stars.
It’s impossible to be out in the desert and not stare up at the stars. They dot the night. They twinkle. They hang like jewels. Every star a sun. Every single one.
“I was taken,” I say. “Four years ago, I was taken.”
It hangs there between us. My truth. Told not to a group that is predisposed to believe me. Not to a man who thinks he’s an alien. But to two people.
“Oh, Mal,” Posey says.
For a long time, no one says anything. Darwyn gets more and more uncomfortable the longer the silence goes on. He shifts on his feet.
“Okay, what if he is?” Posey asks.
“All we have to do is drop him off at these coordinates,” I say.
“That’s it,” she says.
We all look over at Hooper. He gives us a little wave. We all wave back.
“You realize that he’s probably just a crazy person?” Posey says.
“Aren’t we all a little bit crazy?” I ask.
“I don’t
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