I was relishing a rare day in overalls and no necktie when the huge triangular ship hovered silently over my house, blocking out the sun. I was grateful for the shade, since it was August, but I still ran a finger down the hammer of the rifle leaning against the porch railing.
A smaller version of the triangular vessel dropped down and landed in my driveway. The Catahoula hounds growled and began roaring a challenge, their hackles raised. Bucky the Goat rose from his bed in the shade, rattling the chain that keeps him under control when he’s in the rut. He roared a battle cry and was yanked backward as he ran to the end of the No. 3 straight link.
I turned and called to my wife.
“Dolly, we have company. Would you please fix a couple glasses of tea?”
A hatch opened on the side of the little vessel. Three fellows with green skin, oddly shaped hands and big heads stepped out. They wore strange jumpsuits. One lifted a hand and waved in such a way that I figured it was a new experience for him.
I waved back, got up from my chair, tucked the Winchester under my arm, and walked toward them. The Catahoulas settled when I shushed them but continued to growl.
The Greenman who waved was staring at a device about the size of a smart phone. The others peered over his shoulder, whispering, then all three smiled. At least, I guess they were smiling. Their expressions reminded me of an old lady who was trying to be nice after she had smelled something dreadful, which is entirely possible at my house, especially on a weekend.
“Howdy,” I said. “How may I help you?”
“Greetings to youse,” one of them said, pushing a button on his jumpsuit. “Is that an appropriate, non-offensive salutation?”
“It will work,” I said.
He had a blue badge on his jumpsuit. He smiled again. “We smile to show we come in pieces.”
The Greenman in the middle hissed, and waved a finger. His badge was gold.
“Peace, not pieces. Do not offend the Earthling.”
“No offense taken. Pardon me for stating the obvious, but you’re not from around here, are you?” The three conferred again, looking at the smartphone.
“We are from outer space, a planet far from here,” the leader said.
“Your accents kind of gave that away,” I joked. Once again, the smartphone. The leader’s smile went away, and he blinked – but his eyelids came from the sides.
“Our dialects are automatically matched to the last community we visited, but it is not computing here,” he said. “Are there tribal differences between here and Lee-land?”
“Quite a few, since folks started moving in from up north,” I said. The leader’s eyes narrowed, and he seemed to scowl at one of the other Greenmen. This one had a red badge.
“Did I not tell youse that the artistic documentary was a poor choice for research materials?” The Greenman hung his head.
“Apologies. But the documentary was of great amusement. The Bugs Bunny, especially.”
“No apologies needed,” I replied. “Y’all are in the country now. There’s a lot of folks who say you never hear a Southern accent in Leland anymore. All the Yankees, you know. It’s like they speak a whole different language. Like what you said – youse. The term is y’all after you get past Maco.”
“Yawl,” the leader said, and did something with his smartphone. All three Greenmen repeated the word. The machine replied, drawing the word out to several syllables.
“Close enough,” I replied. Bucky reared and bellowed. The Greenmen drew back in fear.
“Does it bite? Can the being get free? Why is it tethered to the quercus virginiana?” I chuckled.
“Well, he doesn’t bite, but he does use his horns to hurt others when he is in the rut – err, when he wants to mate. He hasn’t broken that chain yet.”
“Why do you not let it mate?” the leader asked. I whistled. Goats of all shapes and sizes came creeping out of the woods, warily eying the strangers.
“We have a surplus of, ahh, mating products,” I said. Elvis the rooster strutted across the yard, looked at the Greenmen, and crowed.
“Does the avian want to mate?” Red asked. Leaning over and offering an outstretched band. Elvis fluffed his feathers, jumped and tried to spur Red Badge. I caught the bird with my walking stick and sent him flying, not wanting my idiot rooster to start an intersteller war.
“The rooster mates every day,” I said, “but we do not have a surplus of those mating products. We eat them before they can mature.” Gold Badge stared at me.
“You devour their young?”
“With cheese, bacon and grits,” I said. They consulted the smartphone, and whispered amongst themselves. Just then the geese came honking up from the ditch. Leviatha the Mama Goose hissed, flapped her wings and tried to bite Green Badge.
“Why did you not devour these when they were young?” he said, trying to fend off the angry goose. I grabbed the goose by the neck, tucked her wings, and held her close.
“Because they’re pretty, and they’re good at running off coyotes and trespassers. We do eat their eggs, too, but they don’t lay as many as the other avians, err, the chickens.” Leviatha reached out and hissed at the Greenmen, who all took a step back. I dropped her in the goose pool, and she squawked angrily before toddling away.
By this time the Catahoulas, Lauren and Gloria, had edged closer and closer to the front yard fence, deeply growling as they stared at the Greenmen.
“Do you eat the canine young?” Blue asked. I chuckled.
“No. They are pets – companions.”
“But the other species are also companions.”
“Yes.”
“But you consume them for food.”
“On occasion.”
“Fascinating,” Red said. Gold shook a finger at him again.
“I instructed you not to use colloquialisms from the wide beam broadcasts when speaking to the earthlings. This one might not enjoy that particular wide beam broadcast. Some humans are very adamant in their preferences.”
“I’m more into Star Wars than Star Trek,” I said, “but that’s okay. No harm, no foul.” Gold stared at the smartphone again, his lips moving as he read. Then he looked up and smiled.
“A metaphorical reference to a competitive group activity. No harm, no foul. I am glad to have not caused offense.”
“May I ask, what is that thing you keep reading?” I said. Gold held it up. I saw what looked like a keyboard covered in squiggles and a small screen.
“This allows us to communicate, and it records and explains social standards and traditions.”
‘So, you guys – I guess you’re guys – have been here before?” Blue shook his head.
“Was that a negative gesture? Our tribe has not been here before. This was designed by one of our researchers back home.”
“So, you have a device to communicate with a people you’ve never met before designed by someone who has never met those people?” All three nodded violently.
“Positive gesture? Yes. Surely you do not have those here?”
“Have you seen a traffic roundabout?” I asked. “Positive gesture – I mean, we have them, too.”
Rhonda came out the front door holding four glasses of tea. A baby possum was clinging to her hair. All three Greenmen opened their mouths wide, and their eyes blinked rapidly.
“Expressions of surprise. What is that being? Is that your mate?”
“Yes,” I said. “This is Miss Rhonda.”
“Hello, boys – I guess you’re boys?”
“Greetings,” Blue said. All three raised a hand and waved. “We ain’t from around here. Did I say that properly?”
“Just right,” I said. “Could we offer you a drink? This is about as hard a drink as we have around here.”
“How is liquid hard when it is not in a stage of ice?” Red asked. Gold glared at him.
“He means it is not the tradition to have ethyl alcohol in their home,” Gold said.
“Apologies,” Red said, staring at the Mason jar. I could tell they were a little uncomfortable, so I sipped the sweet tea. They did the same.
“Exclamations of pleasure. What a refreshing beverage.”
Blue gestured toward the baby possum.
“Is this your offspring? It causes pleasing emotional reactions.” Rhonda shook her head and laughed.
“No. This one was abandoned by its mother, and I care for it now. Soon it will be turned loose.”
“Do you consume these offspring?” Blue asked.
“Not hardly,” I said.
“Confusion,” Blue said. Bucky roared, and the Greenmen turned. “Oh, look. The dangerous being has broken his chain.”
Bucky had indeed, broken his chain, and charged full force into the side of the shuttle craft. His horns made a crashing noise as he dented the metal. The other goats took it as a cue, and proceeded to jump on top of the spacecraft.
“Dodgastit,” I said. “I’m sorry, fellows.” Rhonda began calling Bucky, promising him a treat, and after one more jarring impact against the little spacecraft, he sauntered over, snorted at the Greenmen, and followed her. I yelled at the rest of the flock, and they scattered back into the woods.
Red shoved a finger in his single nostril.
“That is an unpleasant eminence,” he said. The others nodded their heads as violently as before.
“Goats do stink,” I agreed. “Look do you want me to call a body and fender friend of mine? I hate Bucky damaged your ride.” Blue looked at another smartphone type of thing, then nodded at Gold.
“It is all well,” Gold said. “The damage should puff out.”
“You mean buff out?” Gold looked at his smartphone, and nodded.
“You fellows want to join me on the porch and visit for a little while?”
“I’ll cut some pound cake,” Rhonda said.
Hours later, Gold stood in front of his commander.
“What is your evaluation?”
Gold looked at the monitor, where he could see the humans were waving at the departing spaceship.
“They are very hospitable, but every being down there is dangerous. The smelly ruminants are trained to damage conveyances. There are avian species that also attack. The canines are intimidating. The humans are hospitable, but armed.
“I do not recommend additional contact – although I admit, I have a hankering for some more of that refreshing beverage. Also, I brought you some pound cake.”
-30-
