UFOs & Unpaid Taxes

by Rachel Ford

  “I didn’t pick it, Nance,” Alfred said quickly.

  “That is true,” the alien agreed. “He let me pick it. Even though, I think, he was not as keen on it as I was.”

  “That was very nice,” Nancy said, ostensibly to Li though she still held the taxman’s gaze, “to do something with you, because he knew you wanted to. That’s what you do, when you care about somebody: you do things they want sometimes too, not always just the things you want.”

  Alfred blinked in the face of her words. They hit him with an almost physical force, and it was everything he could do not to stagger under their weight. “Nance,” he said, “I…”

  “I should get going,” she decided.

  “Already?” Josh was perplexed. “Babe, it’s not even nine yet.”

  “I know. I just…think I need to get to sleep. It’s been a long week.”

  Alfred didn’t sleep well that night. He was awake for hours, and when he did sleep, it was an uneasy rest. The cot seemed lumpier and harder on his back than it had. The room seemed stranger and less welcoming. The evening noises were louder, the moon too bright.

  He rose before five. Li was asleep in the beanbag chair, legs crossed and eyes closed. Alfred decided to go for a walk. The neighborhood was quiet, and in most of the houses, the lights were still off. He walked until the sun rose and traffic picked up. Then, slowly, he turned his steps back to the house.

  The alien was awake by now, and so was Josh. The former was focused on breakfast, and left the room at Alfred’s approach with several cartons of eggs in tow. The latter was sullen, sitting at the kitchen island and sipping coffee. He glanced up when the taxman entered, grimaced, and returned to his phone.

  This suited Alfred just fine, and, pouring a cup of coffee for himself, he sat on the other end of the island. The two men remained there in quiet, mutual disregard for some minutes, until Li joined them.

  “Well, where shall we eat today, Alfred? Are we going back to the old west establishment?”

  The taxman wasn’t sure they’d be allowed back in. “I was thinking we could try somewhere else,” he said evasively. “There’s an all-you-can-eat pizza place on Fifth. And an Asian food place off West Grand. We could get lunch at one, and dinner at the other.”

  “Far out.”

  Josh left shortly after breakfast, taking the car with him. “Guess you’ll have to walk,” he said to Alfred’s objections. “Or call a cab.”

  Li wanted to walk. It was a fine day, sunny and warm, and if the taxman hadn’t already spent two hours on his feet, he might have enjoyed the exercise. As it was, though, he was sure he was going to wind up with blisters.

  They reached the buffet shortly after noon, and during the height of the lunch crowd. The novelty of watching the alien pile plate after plate high with food seemed to have worn off for Alfred. He dutifully carted the dishes back and forth, but he didn’t pay much heed when they cleared out a tray of sushi or a pan of coconut chicken. He just didn’t care.

  Li, on the other hand, savored the experience, downing plate after plate. “I can’t believe I have not had sushi before this.” Alfred glanced at the dish, and the little slices of sushi roll drowning in a sea of yum yum sauce thereon. He wasn’t interested enough to muster a shudder.

  The same could not be said for their neighbors, though. Slowly at first, Alfred noticed the disdainful stares and occasional comments of the occupants of tables around them.

  One woman in particular, a middle-aged matron whose lip seemed inclined to curl, studied them. “Be nice,” her companion, an equally dour man of similar years, said, “if they left some for everyone else, eh?”

  “How can anyone eat that much? It’s disgusting.”

  Li, though, was blissfully unaware of their fellow diners’ contempt. Back and forth the alien went, bringing new plates and new discoveries each time. “Try these, Alfred. They’re frog legs.” And, “Have you ever had prawns before? Very curious texture.” Or, “These almond cookies are really quite good.”

  It was the barbecue ribs, though, that finally proved too much for the nosy couple beside them. Li grabbed a plate full, and with a crunch that could be heard throughout the restaurant, broke one of the ribs in half, and began to chew it.

  “Oh my God!” the woman gasped.

  “Disgusting!” the man agreed. As of one mind, they seized their belongings and marched out the door.

  Alfred was snickering to himself when the alien wondered, “Are they alright?”

  “What?”

  “Those people. They seemed to be in some manner of distress. Perhaps we should offer them assistance?”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about it. I’m sure they’re fine.”

  Li shrugged and returned to the ribs.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  As they left the restaurant, Alfred noticed, Li’s stomach was distended. “Are you alright?” he asked.

  “Of course. Why do you ask?”

  “Your, uh, stomach looks a little…strange.”

  “Oh, no. I am fine. I am not accustomed to your three-meals-a-day routine. But my species is capable of short-term storage of food for brief periods of deprivation. So, since I now keep to Earth schedules, I have simply allocated a portion of my stomach for this purpose.” The alien smiled. “It will be gone before dinner.”

  Their steps took them through town, and Li’s eyes were drawn to the crowds forming at the far end of Main Street. This was a development Alfred had rather feared. “We should get home,” he said.

  “What is going on over there?”

  “Oh, that? That’s just Oktoberfest.”

  “Ok-tober-fest,” they repeated. “What is that?”

  It was precisely the kind of event that the taxman despised: large crowds of people, a steady supply of alcohol, and all the bad decision making attendant to that combination. Still, he moderated his disapprobation as he answered. “Just some kind of celebration. A lot of drinking.”

  “A human celebration?” Li’s eyes were sparkling. “Can we go, Alfred?”

  “Well, uh, I was…”

  “I would be the only member of my race to have attended a human celebration. It would be a tremendous honor.”

  Groaning on the inside, he forced a smile. “Well of course. Let’s go.”

  The afternoon progressed slowly for Alfred after that. Li stopped at every booth, wanted to try every ride, to sample every food, and drink far more than the taxman’s pocketbook could allow.

  The carnival rides were a particular delight to the Geejayan, who insisted that Alfred accompany him. “What a curious manner of diversion. There is nothing like it on my planet.” They started with a carousel, and Li squealed the entire time.

  Then they moved to a Ferris wheel, and the taxman could feel his cheeks flushing as the alien screeched with thrilled horror as they reached the top and began their descent. The curious looks of fellow festival goers only added to his discomfort.

  Alfred’s injured dignity took a backseat, though, when the alien insisted on trying the swing chair ride. He paid – an exorbitant fare, he felt – and they were strapped into their seats. Then the music began, and the ride switched into motion.

  He enjoyed himself for about five seconds. During those seconds, he was swinging at a reasonable speed, watching the world pass by at a decent pace. Then the tempo kicked up, and his vision began to blur. He saw only streaks of color, felt the force of gravity tearing him in one direction and the pull of the harness in the other.

  Alfred screamed, and didn’t stop screaming until the ride ended. In the back of his mind, he heard the alien shrieking similarly.

  When at last he set his feet on solid ground, he was shaking. Li appeared equally discombobulated. “That was rather more intense than I anticipated.”

  “Yeah, same here.”

  “Still, it seems to have worked up rather an appetite.” The alien patted their now retracted midsection. “Perhaps we should visit one of the food vendors we passed.�
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  In this way, Li was introduced to brats. “Not one of our finer culinary achievements,” Alfred sniffed.

  The alien’s lip-smacking indicated that the opinion was not shared, though. “Curious. I wonder who thought of creating edible food tubes.”

  This description did nothing to improve the taxman’s opinion of brats. “No idea. Some genius, no doubt.”

  “Indeed.”

  Still, as the day went on, Alfred almost enjoyed himself. He nearly had fun when Li recommended that they ride the carousel again. He came very close to laughing when, on the ninth try, the alien was turned away from a game of strength for winning a prize eight consecutive times. He almost liked the cotton candy he bought from a stall.

  The fact was, the day had all the right ingredients – massive throngs of people notwithstanding – to be really remarkable. All the right ingredients, that is, save one: Nancy Abbot.

  It was the sort of thing Alfred never would have attempted on his own. Indeed, he avoided gatherings like this as he would a plague bearer. But it was precisely the kind of thing she’d like to do. And the more he thought about that, the more he wondered why he hadn’t asked her to do them before. He wondered why he’d left an opening for someone like Josh to step into Nancy’s life. He wondered how the fear of minor social discomforts had loomed larger in his mind than the fear of losing her. Now that he was here, facing them both, it seemed beyond comprehension that she had not occupied the larger share of his thoughts.

  “Alfred?” Li’s voice cut into his thoughts. They were seated at a table as the alien finished a plate of nachos.

  “Yes?”

  “Are you alright?”

  The taxman frowned. “Of course.”

  “You seem very low today.”

  “No,” he lied. “I’m fine.”

  “Oh. You are thinking of Nancy.”

  His first instinct was to deny it, but the alien’s powers of perception were too uncanny; and he was too low to be interested in maintaining his dignity. “Yes.”

  “I have given it some thought, and I do not believe ritual combat will help you with this one,” Li confided.

  “No,” the taxman agreed. “I told you: I blew it.”

  “I do not mean that. I only mean, I do not think Miss Nancy is the type to be won by such acts of bravado.”

  “No. Nance is too sensible for chest-thumping.”

  “Is she, do you think, too sensible for heartfelt apologies? And, perhaps, a few romantic bribes? How do you call them? Gifts?”

  “What?”

  Li shrugged. “You say you ‘blew it.’ By which, I think, you mean you offended her in some way.”

  “More or less.”

  “Have you apologized?”

  “Well…not really. I didn’t realize I blew it until it was too late.”

  “Are you certain it is too late?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “Do you know, when I met him, Mr. Josh was smiling like the cat who got the cream; like he had it made in the shade.” Li scrutinized Alfred. “I do not think he is so confident anymore.”

  “You don’t?”

  “No. In fact, I think he sees you as bad news. I think he fears Nancy will choose you.” The alien smiled so broadly that, for a moment, their eyes disappeared. “And isn’t that a bite?”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Alfred felt a little better after his chat with Li. He didn’t even mind hauling an armful of the alien’s prizes around, or the simpers and knowing smirks he got from both men and women he passed. What they were thinking, he could only guess.

  The day, too, seemed to pass a little quicker. Before he knew it, it was time for dinner. But to his surprise, the Geejayan said, “I hope you will not be offended, Alfred. But I do not think I wish to eat another buffet. I have had so many brats that my stomach begins to feel – how do you say it? Queasy. I think it would be best to go home and eat something light…a few boxes of eggs should suffice.”

  The taxman did not mind, and said as much.

  “Excellent. Then I will have another beer and pretzel, and then we may return.”

  Alfred would buy the beer, it was decided, and Li would stand in line for the pretzel. This division of tasks served two purposes – the first, it halved their wait time, and he was eager to get back home. Nancy would be off work soon, and she would probably be headed to Josh’s place. The second, of course, was more practical. If they were asked for identification, the alien had none.

  The line for beer moved quickly, and Alfred picked out a picnic table to wait for Li. He was only absently paying attention when a figure caught his eye. A man a few tables across was studying the alien intently, and smiling to himself.

  Li was oblivious to this attention, but the taxman frowned. There was something in the other man’s smirk that troubled him. Then there was the lecherous glint in his eyes. The whole scene at once reminded him of Phil Fletcher, and he shuddered.

  The creep – for that, in Alfred’s mind, was what he termed him – finished the last of his beer and got to his feet. Slowly, casually, he wandered toward the pretzel line.

  Alfred frowned, wondering if he should intervene. Knowing how gullible Li was, he rather feared the alien might get talked into disappearing behind a shed with this stranger. Still, he figured, as long as he kept them in sight, it was probably better to stay put rather than risk causing a scene.

  The creep walked up behind Li, but rather than engaging in conversation as Alfred had anticipated, he smirked and reached a hand out to grab the alien’s derriere. The scene unfolded before the taxman could do anything to intervene, and so he was still seated, too stunned to speak, when the Geejayan turned, as if by instinct, and punched the creep square in the nose.

  The creep landed on his behind in the dirt, blood streaming from his face. A gasp and flurry of activity sounded all around, and Alfred sprang onto his feet. “That bitch broke my nose,” the downed man hollered.

  “You assaulted my buttocks,” Li protested. “I acted in self-defense.”

  “I saw it,” Alfred agreed.

  “Me too,” another man put in. “He grabbed her ass.”

  A few shrugs and got-what-you-deserved’s were all that came of it, and the creep got to his feet, still bleeding and calling names.

  “Get out of here before we call the cops, you dirt bag,” someone called.

  He left with some four-letter words, heavily peppered with the use of, “psycho.”

  Other than the creep, though, Li’s well-being seemed to be in the forefront of everyone else’s mind. A young woman in line flashed a grin and a thumbs up. “Good job.”

  The couple in the front of the line said, “Hey, yours is on us, Miss. What do you want?” And the stand owner threw in a free soda for good measure.

  Li was beaming when all was said and done. “Did you see that, Alfred?”

  “I did. Are you alright?”

  “Alright? Oh, yes. That candy ass barely got a hold of me before I creamed his nose bones.”

  The alien’s enthusiasm for the damage he’d dealt seemed so out of character that it took the taxman aback. “Uh…good. He deserved it.”

  “He did. I think he must have mistaken me for a human female.”

  “I imagine so.”

  “Well, it’s no less than he deserved,” the alien decided with a firm shake of their head. Then, Li laughed. “Did you hear how funny he sounded, when he tried to talk?”

  Despite himself, and the ghoulish nature of their humor, Alfred grinned. “I did.”

  “I can’t wait to tell my shipmates. I believe this is the first time any member of my species has been assaulted in such fashion by a member of yours.”

  “Well…glad you got to make memories in your time here,” the taxman said dryly.

  “Oh yes. Me too.”

  They returned home shortly after five-thirty. Nancy was just pulling in. “Nance,” Alfred said warmly.

  She returned the greeting with les
s enthusiasm, and turned to the alien. “Josh texted that you guys were gone all day. Did you have a good time, Li?”

  “I did,” they responded. “In fact, Alfred took me to Ok-tober-fest.”

  “Did he?”

  “Yes. And-” Li smiled, until the blues of their eyes were hidden. “Look at the prizes he won for you.” Alfred flushed as the alien took the stuffed animals he’d been carrying. “He had to perform feats of strength to acquire them.”

  “The strongman game, you mean?”

  Li nodded. “He won eight times in a row. It was very impressive. The carnival operator would not let him play again, for fear that there would be no prizes left for weaker males.”

  Alfred felt his cheeks getting so hot he was afraid his face was going to go supernova at any second. “That’s not…”

  “But he said you would like the fuzzy bear.”

  “Teddy bear,” Nancy corrected.

  “Yes. Ted-dy bear.”

  “Well,” she said, accepting the toy Li offered, “that was very gallant of him.” Something in the twitch of her lips told Alfred that she wasn’t buying the alien’s story. Still, she played along. “Thanks, Alfred.”

  “Uh…of course, Nance.”

  Josh, meanwhile, was coming out to meet them. Or, more accurately, her. He brushed past the other two, and wrapped Nancy in a kiss. “Nance.”

  Alfred scowled and turned toward the house. He heard Li plodding behind after him. When they were inside, he turned on the alien, snapping, “You shouldn’t have lied. You made me look like a fool.”

  “But she liked the fuzzy bear, Alfred.”

  “She knows I didn’t win it.”

  “Does it matter? She likes it, and she is happy. And she knows that you were thinking of her.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The conversation was curtailed when Nancy and Josh returned. Both seemed out of sorts. She was, he noticed, still carrying the bear. “Something’s going on at work,” she said. “Justin got called in to Caspersen’s office. And there were men there, like the agents you saw in Nevada, Alfred: dark suits, very serious.”