Going Home

This is a work of fiction, no real places, people or events were used in this story. Copyright 2011 Plot Roach.

Going Home

By Plot Roach

“And for our next guest, we will meet the man behind the mask, Allen the Alien.” announced the host of Good Morning Miami. Allen walked out onto the stage to the fanfare of staged applause. He mimed a few of his classic moves when he played “the alien”, sending the audience into hysterics with his antics. Once he settled down into his chair and rearranged the microphone threaded up his clothes and clipped onto the collar of his shirt, the audience calmed down long enough for the show's host to launch into his canned speech, introducing the actor.

“Wow. Allen the Alien, right here in my studio” Dick, the announcer said. As if you hadn’t read the script, Allen thought. He smiled anyway and shook the man’s hand. It felt as rubber as the prosthetics that Allen used in his show. Allen wondered if Dick was just as fake as palm trees and spaceship he used to create “the Alien’s” television world. The man’s smile never dropped as he continued with the script. “After a period of ten successful years on the air, you’ve decided to end the show. What were you thinking, Allen?”

There was a heartfelt murmur from the audience, as if they were sad to see the show end. It was as staged as Dick’s questions and Allen’s answers.

“We decided, the producers and I, that it would be best for the Allen the Alien series to end on a high note, with Allen returning home. Rather than to drag it out, invent new characters and lose the interest of the audience.” he said. There are other reasons, Allen thought, but you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.

“And that’s it? You’re just going to ‘go home’?” Dick asked.

“Well, Allen the Alien will. I, however, plan on retiring with family members who live back in Las Vegas.”

“And just how did Allen the Alien come to be?”

“Well, one night while looking up at the stars and wondering if there was life among them, I wondered if anyone was looking back and thinking the same thing. And then I thought: what would his adventures be like? What would he learn to take back to his people? Who would he call friend? And it all came together like a grand and wondrous puzzle, each piece being revealed as it was needed. Now that the puzzle is done, it’s time for Allen to go home and make his report.”

“And what would Allen have to say about the human race, you think?”

“Oh, that the smaller and younger ones of the species sometimes know far more than their elders.” Allen winked at the audience. This elicited a giggle among the audience members. “But overall, I think that he would argue that the human race has a lot of potential. It just needs a little bit more time to find its feet among the rest of the sentient races of Mother Universe. And we would do well to call them friend.” The audience “awww”ed in response and Dick rose, signaling the end of the interview.

“We’ll definitely miss you Allen, both as yourself and as Allen the Alien.”

“And I’ll miss you.” Allen said, tears forming in his eyes “All of you.” he said, bowing to the audience.

Once off stage, the makeup artist offered to remove the makeup she had applied for his time on camera, but he waved her off. “I’ll just do a little clean up when I get home.” he told her.

The drive home was long and lonely, he switched through the stations on the radio, thinking that he would miss the announcer’s voice on his favorite talk radio program as well as his favorite musical stations. He pulled into the driveway and ambled into the house. He pulled off his clothes and left them like shed skin behind him. He had never gotten used to the sweltering heat of a Miami summer. He entered the bathroom, coated himself in makeup remover and pulled off the prosthetics when they became soft enough to pull from his skin. He soaked himself in a large hot tub, pulling a cold beer from the mini refrigerator he kept in the bathroom for just such a purpose. He lay there and let the heat of the water soak into his bones, refusing to leave until the last of the water turned tepid and he was wrinkled from head to toe.

He toweled himself off, pulled on a short sleeved t shirt with the “Allen the Alien” logo embroidered above the right breast pocket, and a pair of baggy sweatpants cut off at the knees. He grabbed another two beers and headed for the bedroom, thinking of all the things that he needed to pack and how much he would miss his life in Miami. Around dusk he set the two suitcases outside the back sliding glass door, he took one last look at his home of the past ten years and stepped out onto the back porch. His ride would be here soon to take him home. He twisted the top off another beer, draining it in three quick gulps before tossing the empty container on the grass next to him. Might as well enjoy it while I can, he thought, letting out a tremendous burp. He breathed deeply and looked to the stars now spiraling out of their daylight hiding places.

One of the lights grew brighter than the others, and within minutes it hovered above his backyard before touching down, as light as a feather, on his back lawn. I just know that’s going to kill off the grass, Allen thought sourly, wishing he had another beer in his hand.

“It’s good to see you again, Ambassador Yendish.” A small, green man built like a lizard hissed as the door opened.

Allen sighed. It was good to be going home, but couldn’t they have sent a better ship than a class five interstellar transport. It looked like a child’s flattened Frisbee and had as much room to move about in as a sardine can. Still, he thought, they can get in under human radar and are very rarely seen by the natives. “It’s good to be going back, Captain Balck.” he said. Allen, now Yendish once again, gripped the two suitcases with white, scaly knuckles as he stepped onto the boarding ramp. He looked over his shoulder one last time at the Earth and felt confused about which place he should call home. The door sealed tightly closed behind him and he wondered, not for the first time, if the people of Earth would remember him as fondly as he would them.