About 3:00 a.m. last night, the doorbell rang. That wouldn't be so weird except that we disconnected it because it scares the heck out of our cat, Winnie, when anyone rings it. I was pretty sure that it had actually rung and that I hadn't just dreamed it because Winnie, who had been snuggled up against my back, suddenly dove off the side of the bed and squirmed beneath it. That's her favorite hiding place when strangers are in the house. The doorbell ringing almost always means that strangers will be entering the house, which is why it terrifies her to hear it and why we disconnected it. Our friends and neighbors know that they should knock on the door. Although, I think that she is starting to figure that one out too. Where was I now?
Oh yeah. So I'm lying there thinking that I should probably get up and see what the heck is going on when it rings again. This time somewhat more insistently; ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong. My husband, Bernd, sleeps with ear plugs in his ears and even his own loud (and I mean loud, though he denies he does it) snores don't wake him. I told him once that if I ever wake him up by clapping my hand over his mouth and shaking him that he should keep quiet because it would mean that there was a prowler in the house. So, Winnie is under the bed, Bernd is snoring happily and I am laying there wondering why a doorbell that I know we had disconnected is ringing. I decided that as long as I was awake, I might as well get up and see what was going on. Just then, the doorbell rang again; one ding-dong.
I went to the front door, turned on the outside lights and looked out between the louvers of the vertical blinds. But I couldn't get a good enough angle on the front porch to see who might be there. So I walked back to the door and said a very quiet, "Hello?" This was answered with another very quiet 'hello.' So quiet, I wasn't really certain I had heard it. So then I said a little louder, "Who's there?" And this was answered with 'who's there' as well.
Now this is the point in most stories when the protagonist starts to doubt that she is really awake and thinks that she must surely be dreaming. The though crossed my mind about a dozen times in the matter of a few seconds and was tossed out in just a few more. I was well and truly awake. It was cold outside of the covers and my bare feet were freezing on the laminate flooring. I was standing kind of hunched over at the front door and my back was starting to get tired. Then the doorbell rang again. Man I was getting tired of that disconnected doorbell ringing. Somewhat rashly, I decided to open the door and put and end to it. Imagine my surprise.
Briefly, the thought, 'Good thing I don't sleep naked as Bernd does,' crossed my mind and was quickly supplanted by the thought, 'It's been my experience that the screaming of the femme fatale in all those old sci-fi horror flicks that I used to watch never did her any good whatsoever.' So I didn't scream, although that might finally have awakened Bernd, who would have then rushed buck naked into the living room. Alas, my practical nature was to rob me of a witness.
I have to tell you, "they" have it all wrong. Little gray men with big heads and huge black eyes are not the thing at all. Neither are they naked. Though I can't know whether or not clothing was worn in deference to my human sensibilities. Imagine their chagrin if Bernd had indeed rushed naked into the living room and there they stood clothed and their normal mode was also to be naked. Would one of them have disrobed to match the condition of Bernd and me? I will never know. Oh yeah, I had another thought come into my mind during all this and that was, 'Good thing we have a security screen door and that we always keep it locked.' But this was followed by an unsettling, 'Yeah, but they somehow have managed to ring a disconnected doorbell four times.' So I finally found my mouth and said, "Uh. Hi?"
What is amazing to me is how fast a person; me for instance, can think all sorts of thoughts. I'm talking mere seconds here for all of that to go through my mind. After my two-word verbalization, the two of them just stood there and looked at me for a bit. I wanted to jump right out of my skin when the shorter of them said, "Let us in."
Now, if you wake me up in the middle of the night, it's pretty much a given that my brain isn't going to be firing on all thrusters. Even so, I was pretty certain that would not be a good idea. I mean who knows what they might do once they were standing in my living room. Maybe their idea of cordial behavior is to utter a few sappy platitudes and then regurgitate their last meal all over my furniture. No way that was going to happen. So I said, "I don't think so."
There was a brief pause and the taller of the two said, "What did you say?" So now I'm thinking that perhaps they are a little hard of hearing and quite loudly say, "I said, 'I don't think so'." Which caused them to take a step back; the loudness, I mean.
There was another brief pause and Tall said, "You do not think so what?"
And I said, "What you said."
The pauses are starting to get a bit annoying. How can a brain that only moments before was sound asleep be expected to keep track of a conversation that has a ten second delay between it's elements? I mean really? Finally Shorty said, "What did we say?"
Okay. Isn't the popular conception of aliens visiting our planet that they are generally more intelligent than we are? I mean, they've developed the technology to come to us from a very great distance. That has to say something. But I'm starting to wonder. Maybe these are the stupid aliens that the smart ones cart around and send down to planets rather than risk their own smart hides. My next response was, "Don't you know what you said?"
To which Tall replied (after a pause), "We know exactly what we have said."
"Well then, what's the problem," was my immediate response.
Eventually Shorty said, "There is no problem. Let us in."
So for the second time I said, "I don't think so."
Apparently, even though they have some method of affecting electrical equipment, there is nothing they can do about a good old-fashioned Kwikset, double cylinder, deadbolt lock. Either that or they are just very polite and will not enter without an invite. On the other hand they did not say, "Let us in, please."
They stood and looked at each other for a few moments and then turned and walked away. At which point I started feeling decidedly more secure and said, "Wait a minute! Where are you going?" I got no reply and they vanished into the darkness.
I closed the door and went back to bed. My side was still a little warm and the covers felt really good around me. It took me a while to fall back to sleep, but Winnie climbed back beside me and Bernd was snoring away and it all helped to lull me.
In the morning, I told Bernd all about it and he said, "Yeah. Right. You should write that up for Search Warp." And so I did.
[This short story is for Myla Madson, who said she wanted to read more about the aliens. I hope that she likes it. Actually, I have a very good grasp of reality. I am completely comfortable with the notion that we create our own little universes and that what I think is real is real. ;) ]
Dianne Lehmann is a jewelry designer who has been in business since January of 2000. Her interest in designing and manufacturing jewelry goes back beyond that to 1994. It took her many years of trying various creative outlets to finally figure out that making jewelry is where she could really shine. Dianne began with simply stringing beads onto cable and has progressed from there. She is now an accomplished lapidary (cuts and polishes stones) and silversmith. Dianne and her husband, Bernd, live in northern Arizona and both love to hike. Dianne can not help but pick up rocks (they are her first love) and some of these find their way into her jewelry. Dianne makes one-of-a-kind pieces that she hopes give people as much joy to view as she gets from the making of them.If you like, you may view her work at http://www.syzygyjewelry.com
I really love these alien stories of yours. You enter a whole new demension in your writing style and I absoutely LOVE it!
I could read about your close encounters all day with a little grin on my face and the problems of this world left behind. You have an amazing talent in this type of writing that you should pursue.
I know I'm being selfish here and I do appreciate that you wrote this story with me in mind, but you have only succeded in wetting my appetite! Oh well, I'll take what I can get. If you have more of this stuff archived somewhere else, please let me know so I can go and find it, it really is that good Dianne. Thanks again, lol
Oh wow! That's really high praise and very encouraging.
I'm actually working on two books right now (when I get stuck on one, I have the other to keep me interested). One of them isn't so much about space aliens as it is about what makes us alien to each other. It involves time travel and a woman who has some things in common with me but is not me (the "write about what you know" principle). I sent the first chapter of it (as a short story) to Analog Science Fiction and Fact magazine at the end of the year, but haven't heard back from them yet.
If you look at all the symbols next to my name, you will see that I allow e-mails. If you are interested, you could e-mail me.
Thanks. I'm glad you enjoyed it. It was fun to write. I ask myself these odd little questions from time to time. You know, like "What would you do if a stranger suddenly appeared out of thin air right in the middle of your living room?" or "What would you do if aliens rang your doorbell?" Then I see what my answer would be.
I sure hope your men get back to feeling 100% again really soon!
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