Alien Coffee

by Carroll, John H.

  Alien Coffee

  John H. Carroll

  Published by John H. Carroll at Smashwords

  Copyright 2011 John H. Carroll

  Cover image Copyright 2011 John H. Carroll

  Cover photography by Tracy Carroll

  Alien hand model: Jessica Jorgenson

  This story is dedicated to Kit, who constantly tries to drink from an empty cup.

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real aliens, living or dead, is purely coincidental . . . so far as you know.

  Names have been changed to protect the aliens.

  Table of Contents

  Beginning

  About the Author

  Jillian tried to take a sip of her coffee only to look at the barren mug in disgust before setting it back down with a sigh. It was already the third time her cup had inexplicably become empty that morning. She should probably trudge downstairs to make a fresh pot, but didn’t want to. Knowing her, she’d probably load the dishwasher and clean cat puke from the carpet again.

  The sound of birds singing came through the open window to provide a stark contrast to the band “Letters From The Fire” playing in the background. Jillian paused the hard rock music with her remote and walked over to look out the window at a beautiful spring morning. A light breeze carried the scent of pine trees through the air and she inhaled deeply, feeling tension in her shoulders release. She was startled when a young bull moose called out in a baritone moan from the thick trees below.

  The amount of wildlife outside her house never ceased to amaze Jillian. Bears, raccoons, wolves, deer and numerous smaller animals traveled through the secluded mountain forests where she and her husband lived peacefully. They moved to Priest Lake in Northern Idaho three years earlier after a multi-week expedition spent looking for a place to relocate from New York.

  Summertime would draw a lot of tourists zipping around the lakes and camping along the shorelines, but their house was far enough away not to be bothered. In the distance, she could see a few boats floating casually on the tranquil waters, high from spring runoff after a winter of heavy snow. It was too far away to tell if the people were fishing or just out for pleasure underneath the clear blue skies.

  She stretched muscles tight from hunching over manuscripts. Later on, she would do her daily yoga, which helped keep her mentally focused and physically healthy. Jillian didn’t consider herself very pretty. She had short brown hair, muddy green eyes her husband Raymond loved to stare into, and a complexion pale from staying inside way too often. It was all wrapped up in an adequately shaped five foot five package.

  Jillian looked sadly at the empty mug before picking it up and heading downstairs. A half hour later, she came back upstairs. The dishwasher was loaded and two spots where the cats had thrown up were clean.

  The manuscript she was editing was yet another paranormal romance. It consisted of a misunderstood zombie-vampire who was in love with a weretroll. Luckily she only had to copy edit instead of content editing or else she’d just burn it, but there were so many mistakes it looked like her red pen was bleeding all over it.

  She went to take a sip of her coffee only to realize she hadn’t brought it with her. With a groan of exasperation, Jillian stomped back downstairs to retrieve it. It was sitting on the counter, half-empty. I must have been drinking it while loading the dishwasher. She didn’t remember drinking any, but staring at manuscripts all day made her absent-minded.

  A few minutes later, she was sitting back at her desk, deep into editing. Time passed as she crossed out extra words, unnecessary sentences and fixed numerous punctuation errors. The writer had decided that everything needed semicolons instead of commas. Jillian sighed and attempted another drink of coffee.

  It was empty. Again! She could have sworn she hadn’t drunk all of it, yet there wasn’t even a drop in the bottom. With a growl of frustration, she slammed her pen on the manuscript and stood up. Jillian grabbed the cup and stomped down the stairs yet again to refill it.

  Fifteen minutes later she climbed back up the stairs with a bowl of fresh cut fruit. Jillian set it on the computer desk and prepared to check her favorite sites. Before sitting, she stomped back down the stairs to get the coffee she had forgotten yet again.

  A short while later she was reading an article on how ereaders were nearing their death. It seemed silly considering they had only just become popular. Before taking a drink, she looked at the cup. Sure enough, it was empty again. Jillian was certain she had only taken a couple of sips.

  “Alright! Who drank my coffee?!” she called out while standing up suddenly. “Raymond, are you doing this?” Jillian knew her husband wasn’t there, but couldn’t think of who else might be taking her drink. In frustration, she swung her arm back and forth violently as she walked back to the stairs.

  Her arm slammed hard into something unseen at the top step, causing Jillian to freeze in shock. Everything was still and silent for a brief moment before a vague silhouette appeared halfway down the stairs then tumbled to the bottom. The thud of a body hitting the bottom was abrupt and loud.

  Jillian stared at the alien figure that materialized. Its skin was yellow green and mottled, appearing somewhat slimy. The being was dressed in a tight silver suit with a utility belt and what appeared to be a holstered gun on one of its three legs. The limbs were set at even intervals, two to the sides and one behind like a tripod. Its face was wide with three horizontal, deep-set blue eyes. It had four ears, two set vertically on each side of its oversized bald head. Its mouth was a tubular appendage with big puckered lips like those found in a bad comic book.

  “You pushed me down the stairs, dude! That hurt!” it accused. Odd sounds came from the puckered lips while the words Jillian heard came from the collar of its silver suit. She instantly got the impression it had some sort of translating device like sci-fi authors wrote about in several of the stories she edited. Its voice wasn’t tinny like in those stories, it was high pitched and nasal, yet sounded vibrant as though spoken with a human’s tone.

  The creature grabbed a railing with one of its three hands, if that’s what they were, and stood up. Each arm had three fingerlike appendages with suction tips like an octopus. It was comprised of threes: three arms, three legs and three eyes. The four ears and one mouth seemed very much out of place. Jillian couldn’t see any sort of a nose.

  “Dude! Are you just going to stare like a nitwit? You pushed me down the stairs and broke the invisibility thingy.” The alien, as Jillian figured it must be, smacked a square silver box on the left side of its belt a few times. The device had a blue pad that looked to be cracked. All three eyes focused on her. “I know you can speak. How about an apology, Jillian?”

  The fact that it knew her name alarmed her. Jillian opened her mouth to speak, only to let out a long, piercing shriek of terror instead. She was dismayed by her own delayed reaction. Only girls in horror movies were supposed to behave like that. Jillian was a sensible woman who could handle emergencies, or so she thought before being faced by a slimy looking creature who knew her name.

  The alien cringed at the sound, pulling back and covering its ears with two hands. After the scream died down, it put one hand on a hip and a second out to the side in a gesture of disbelief. The third, which was in the middle of its back, reached up and rubbed its bald head. “Really? You push me down the stairs, stare at me like I’m a monster or something and then scream at me?” It continued to move its lips and make the odd squishy sounds.

  “Wha . . . wha . . . who . . . how . . . I . . . gah,” Jillian stammered. She was very proud of herself for saying that much instead of fainting considering how lightheaded she felt.

  “That didn’t even translate a little bit. Was that the
apology?” it asked. It had a single, ridged eyebrow above all three eyes. “Tell you what, you make me a fresh cup of coffee and maybe I’ll forgive you.”

  “Coffee?” Jillian asked incredulously. Realization dawned and she took a few angry steps down the staircase, momentarily forgetting that she was speaking to an alien. “Wait a minute, you’re the one stealing my coffee?” She snapped her fingers. “I knew I wasn’t going crazy!” Jillian looked at the alien staring at her from the bottom of the steps and changed her mind about the crazy part. “Then again . . . maybe it’s worse than I thought.”

  “Oh, you’re not crazy.” The alien rubbed its chin with the right hand. “You are in a lot of trouble though.” It stopped rubbing the chin and waggled a suction cup finger at her. “You aren’t supposed to see me. This is really bad.”

  Jillian became irritated. “I’m in trouble? You break into my house, steal my coffee when I’m not looking, complain about me knocking you down the stairs when I can’t see you because you’re invisible,” she gasped in a breath, “and then you tell me I’m in trouble? You’ve got a lot of nerve!”

  It folded its front arms and kneaded its head with the third. “Hmm . . . The door wasn’t locked so I didn’t technically break in.” Jillian’s only response was to hold her arms out to her sides in disbelief. The alien looked around and then back at her. “Let’s not argue about the details. Make us some coffee and we’ll figure out how to get you out of this mess.”

  “I’m not making anything,” Jillian stated firmly. She pointed at the door. “Get out of my house and don’t ever come back.”

  “Dude! I need coffee!” The alien blurted desperately. It began pushing and pulling against its face with the fingers of the left hand. Each time they would make a little sucking noise. Its right hand gripped the stair rail tightly. “I need coffee real bad.”

  It was acting like an addict looking for the next fix. “You’re starting to scare me,” Jillian told it. As the words came out of her mouth, she realized she was far beyond scared.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” it said, holding out both front hands to reassure her. “Listen, you can call me Sclurp. That’s about as close to my name as your language can get.” It took a few steps into the living room and looked around. “You’ve got a really nice place.”

  “Gee thanks . . . Sclurp. I’d still like you to leave and never come back.” Jillian pointed to the door again. “Please go.”

  “Listen . . . I’m an amazing kisser and I’m good at other things too. I’m male if that matters, and your husband doesn’t have to know.” Sclurp waggled his fuzzy eyebrow. “Just make me some coffee and I’ll show you.” He made kissing sounds with his lips.

  “Eww! Go away!” Jillian’s voice broke in fear as she looked around for something to throw. The only thing within reach on one of the steps was the cat’s little plastic ball with jingly bells in it. She picked it up and heaved it at the alien. The bells made a tiny dinging sound as it bounced off the round head.

  “Really?” he responded flatly. “That’s what you’re going to throw at me, a little jingly ball? Wow. I better leave before you hit me with something deadly . . . like a feather.” He crossed his front arms again. “Seriously, I need a fix real bad. Make me some coffee and I’ll go away. Dude, you can trust me.”

  “Would you quit calling me dude?!” Jillian really didn’t know what to do. She debated calling Raymond, but was afraid the alien would zap her if she moved toward the phone. The fact that it offered to kiss her was really freaking her out. Sclurp was about six feet tall, skinny and not at all attractive, let alone the fact he was an alien!

  “Make me some coffee or . . . or I’ll keep calling you dude!” It began speaking in rapid-fire succession. “Dude, dude, dude, dude, dude . . .”

  “Fine! I’ll make you coffee, but you have to promise to go away and stop saying dude!” she pleaded desperately.

  “I will totally go away,” it bargained readily. “Coffeeeeeee.” Sclurp did a fist pump and quickly shuffled into the kitchen on all three legs. When Jillian didn’t follow right away, he stuck his head back through the kitchen door. “Coffeeeeeee.”

  “Okay!” Jillian stomped down the stairs in a daze, wondering what she could possibly do to get out of the situation. On the way down, she pinched her arm hard to make sure she wasn’t in a nightmare. The alien was still there so she pinched again just to be on the safe side. It didn’t work.

  Sclurp stood aside and let her through the door to the kitchen where she quickly went to the coffee maker and began brewing a new pot, all the while keeping an eye on him. She noticed that he smelled like ground up earthworms, which wasn’t as unpleasant as one might think. It was mild and she only sensed it when passing close. After pushing the button to brew, Jillian got a plain coffee cup out of the cabinet.

  “No, not that one. I like the yellow cup with OMG on it. The coffee tastes best out of that one. It’s in the dishwasher, which just finished running.” He opened the dishwasher and grabbed the cup, setting it on the counter next to Jillian who took a few nervous steps back. “That one.” He pointed at the mug with a suction cup finger.

  As soon as the coffee was done brewing, she poured a cup and watched while he took it to the small kitchen table. It was one of Jillian’s favorite places in the house. She could sit next to the picture window that had a beautiful view of the lakes, but wasn’t about to join him at that moment. She ran her hands slowly down her plain blue blouse and jeans in an attempt to calm herself. The alien didn’t sit, instead moving a chair out of the way and squatting on bent legs. It reminded Jillian of a baby’s bouncy chair. His legs even acted like springs.

  “Have a seat, Jillian,” the alien told her, gesturing toward the chairs around the table. “I promise I don’t bite.” Sclurp waggled his eyebrow. “I do kiss though.” He made kissy noises with his lips. “Do you have moral objections against interspecies relations?”

  Jillian was extremely disturbed, but hid it the best she could while trying to find a solution that just wouldn’t appear. She wished Raymond was there to punch the squishy lips into its face. Instead, she leaned back against the counter with her arms folded while glaring at the alien in the hopes it would finish the coffee and get out.

  “We have a serious problem,” Sclurp told her with a look of worry. Jillian was quickly figuring out the facial expressions, which were similar to human only more exaggerated. “You’re not supposed to see me. If you do, you have to be turned into an emo bunny.”

  “Turned into an emo bunny? What in the world does that mean?” Terror gripped her heart and panic drained the strength from her legs, leaving her shaking. Jillian wanted very much to run away, but couldn’t convince her body to take action. Moreover, in all the books she had read, everyone who ran away got blasted in the back.

  Sclurp pulled out his ray gun, or whatever it was, and held it up for her to see. He didn’t point it at her, much to her relief. “This doesn’t kill people, it turns them into animals.” He put it away and leaned forward. “We’re supposed to set it for animals natural to the world we’re on, but every other world in the galaxy has emo bunnies and I don’t think anyone will notice that Earth doesn’t.”

  “What’s an emo bunny and what do you mean, ‘We’? There are more of you?” Jillian asked in trepidation.

  “Oh, dude. I wasn’t supposed to say that. This is really bad.” He frowned at his coffee in thought. Then he put his lips in it and made a noisy slurping sound. “Ahhh, that’s good coffee. You make the best stuff, dude.” Sclurp visibly relaxed. “I was about to freak out.”

  “Quit calling me dude.” Jillian wanted to say a lot more than that, but didn’t really know what to concentrate on. She wondered if aliens were invading the planet in order to eat them all or just suck their brains out. Perhaps he’s a zombie alien. Jillian giggled suddenly.

  Sclurp looked at her with narrowed eyes. “There’s nothing funny about this. You’re in really big trouble.”

&nbs
p; “I haven’t done anything wrong,” Jillian protested instantly and began to pace back and forth. “You broke into my house. You stole my coffee and now you’re threatening me. You’re the only one who did something wrong.” She stopped and pointed an accusatory finger at him. “I bet you’re going to be in big trouble when the others find out!” Jillian had no idea if there really were others or if he would be in trouble or not.

  The alien pointed the ray gun at her. “Maybe I should just shoot you now.”

  There was something in his manner that made Jillian think he was worried or scared. Running didn’t seem like an option and she didn’t think she could overcome the alien physically, so Jillian desperately tried everything that came to mind. “If you turn me into an emo bunny, I won’t be able to make coffee ever again. My husband would notice my disappearance and search parties would be initiated to scour the area. I’m not supposed to see you, which means you’re not supposed to be here getting your fix of coffee.” She waved a hand at the cup that was nearly finished. “I bet you’re the one who’s really in trouble . . . dude!”

  Sclurp stood straight and glared at her, which was quite intimidating with three eyes. Jillian felt outnumbered, but stood her ground. After a minute, he finally relented. “Yeah. I’m really in trouble.” He squatted again and finished the last of the coffee noisily.

  I wonder how I missed hearing him drink even with the device hiding his presence, Jillian thought. Out loud she suggested, “Perhaps we just don’t tell anyone and you never ever come back here again.”

  He shook his head. “It’s not that easy. I need coffee. We all need coffee.”

  “How many more of you are there? Is this an invasion?” Jillian asked worriedly.

  “Invasion?” Sclurp asked incredulously. “What is it with you humans? Every time one of you sees an alien there’s suddenly an invasion and you have to destroy us or else we’ll suck your livers out for lunch.” He rolled all three eyes. “I hope you never make it into space. I’m pretty sure intergalactic civilization would be destroyed in days.”