Unusual Attention

by B. G. Thomas

  That was when everything changed.

  33

  LOVE.

  It was a voice in Adam’s head. But it wasn’t his own.

  Love?

  Then the Greys were there again. Standing over him. Looking at him with those big black unblinking eyes.

  Love?

  They were talking to him!

  “Yes,” he managed to say. “Love. Do you things know what love is?”

  And then one of them nodded.

  Yes, came the response inside his head. We do.

  What?

  One of the Greys moved up between them. Looked at their clasped fingers. Then at him.

  You are both male. It wasn’t asking.

  “Yes,” he said.

  Then it glanced directly at his penis. Then…. Then at Shane’s.

  And then it began to undress.

  34

  UNDRESS?

  No. Not exactly.

  Once, when Adam was a kid, he’d seen a cicada coming out of its skin.

  That was what this looked like. The Grey was folding in on itself. Bending forward. And something was coming out of its back.

  It was pink. Darker than pink, but not red.

  Bit by bit, it pulled itself out of the back of its….

  A head popped back out of the grayness it had been in. A head with small blue tiny eyes.

  They blinked at him.

  Then the others began to do the same thing. The Greys. Who were not gray at all. They were a color somewhere between pink and red. What color did you call that?

  For a moment Adam wanted to scream. But then it blinked again. The others were pulling themselves out of their suits as well. Suits. The shiny gray creatures weren’t flesh—it wasn’t… them.

  They were suits.

  Spacesuits came Shane’s voice inside his head.

  Spacesuits.

  The machine’s arm raised into the dark recesses of the room. The force that had been holding him immobile was gone. He could move.

  And he did.

  Adam sat up and saw Shane doing the same. He scrambled off the bed and went to Shane’s side. “Baby?”

  Shane wrapped his arms around Adam and pulled him tight.

  That was when he saw it.

  The Greys—or Pinks?—had a whole new surprise.

  35

  ADAM WOKE to sunlight streaming in between the curtains of the bedroom window. He stretched and yawned and then smelled the coffee. He hoped there was some left.

  As per his usual style, he didn’t bother to put anything on, but after climbing out of bed naked, he left the bedroom and found Shane in the kitchen.

  Surprise. He was writing in one of his journals. He’d only seen Shane doing that one other time….

  For some reason the memory caused him to flinch the slightest little bit. He decided to ignore it for this wonderful and somewhat fuzzy morning. He felt a little… what? High? Had they had a lot to drink last night? He couldn’t really remember if they had.

  There were a few empty beer bottles in the trash.

  “Morning, babe,” he said and went to Shane to give him a kiss. His morning wood, not a semi, bobbed a bit before him.

  Shane looked up from his writing, a smile on his face, and then did a double-take at Adam’s erection. “Well good morning to you,” he said with a grin.

  To Adam’s happiness, he saw there was coffee in the pot. It was almost full. Had Shane just gotten up?

  “Yup,” Shane replied, attention back on whatever he was scribbling in his journal. “The coffee’s fresh. I used that kind you like so much.”

  The Shepherd’s Bean. The Yirgacheffe! Oh God, yes. So much better than what Shane usually….

  “You are such a snob,” Shane said, shaking his head. “We discussed that, right?”

  Adam poured, sat, and leaned in for a kiss. “Sorry,” he said with a chuckle.

  Shane rewarded him with a look from those beautiful eyes and a sweet little kiss.

  “What are you doing?” he asked. “If it’s not private.”

  “Not private,” Shane said, still writing. His hand was moving across the pages quickly. As if he had a lot to say and wanted to say it as fast as he could. “I’m just trying to get it all down. I’m afraid I’ll forget. And I don’t want to forget any of it.”

  Forget? “Forget what?” he asked, curious. Was he writing about the sex they had last night? Oh God! What sex! He didn’t want to forget either. Ever.

  “Except for maybe the beginning. I didn’t like that.”

  Adam jerked ever so slightly. Shane didn’t like the beginning? Why, Adam had thought it was all sweet. The best lovemaking he’d ever experienced. Maybe the only real lovemaking. It had all been just sex before—

  Shane looked up from his page. “I’ve never remembered any of it before, Adam. I always knew, knew, that it happened. And for the first time I can remember. But what if it goes away, baby? I can’t stand the idea. So please, let me get it down first.”

  “Huh?” What was he talking about? “I don’t want you to forget either, baby. I don’t want to forget either. It was the best….”

  Blue light.

  Adam jerked again.

  Unblinking black eyes.

  Then….

  Adam jerked in his chair, so hard this time he almost fell over backward, and he spilled half his coffee, most of it on his hand. He hissed and brought it up to his mouth, sucking at the burnt spot.

  Shane had stopped writing. “Baby?”

  Oh my God….

  He saw them then. Coming out of the backs of those shiny all-the-same gray suits, like cicadas breaking through the backs of their shells—their skins.

  Oh my God….

  Saw them. Saw the Greys. Saw them for what they were….

  “Baby?” The look of concern on Shane’s face was enough to jolt him back to the here and now, the seat he sat on, the kitchen he was in, the man he was with.

  Shane reached out and took his burnt hand—not too burnt—and—Wham!—it all came back. All of it.

  Oh my God….

  36

  THE GREYS—now some other color entirely—were all male.

  Trying to understand, came its—his—voice in Adam’s head.

  Such a curious race. Nothing else like you.

  Its eyes were small. Nothing like the famous, large, unblinking slanted oval eyes from modern legend. From the cover of Communion. From dozens of movies. But they were certainly as black.

  And its—his—skin…. What color did you call that? Not pink. Not orange. Salmon? Coral? In fact, it reminded Adam a lot of the aliens from Fire in the Sky, but not as… mean. They were softer. Surprisingly less scary.

  At least now.

  There was no nose. Not that he could see—could remember. The mouth was very small, just like the stories, and it didn’t move. The lips didn’t move while it “talked” inside his head.

  The head was very large for its body, which was overly slim, with long, almost sticklike, arms. The legs were just as thin, but much shorter than its arms.

  His! He had to think of the being as a him.

  It was important.

  But why?

  Male.

  What lay between his legs was not a penis, not anything human, that was. More like… what? A dog? More than a bump, but nothing hanging.

  They all had them.

  All of them.

  Three sets of three stood around Adam and Shane. Another triad was moving slowly into the room. All their faces bore curiosity.

  Such a peculiar race.

  “Why?” Adam asked. “Why are we peculiar?”

  So different than anywhere else.

  “How are we different?” God. I’m talking to them. They’re talking to me. “Why different?”

  So different than the other species on your world.

  “How?” Calm. Keep calm.

  Shane moved even closer to him.

  The other creatures… they procreate durin
g… seasons.

  “Seasons?” Adam asked. “What do you mean….?”

  “Like going into heat?” It was Shane’s turn to ask. “Is that what you mean?”

  The alien nodded. Interesting to see it use such a human gesture.

  Yes. When it is time to procreate, the female becomes ready. This makes the males ready. They mate. Then they are done. Often going their separate ways. Or at least not mating again until the female… goes into heat once more.

  “I—I guess,” Adam said.

  But unlike the other animals on your planet, your species stands alone as sexual even when it is not time to procreate. The two. They mate! They form permanent bonds. Not like us or even as so many others out there.

  It took a long hand and gestured above it. Around it. Everywhere.

  “Yes,” Shane replied. Out there….

  Curious. Strange. We don’t understand. So different. How this works… we don’t understand. How your species…. For some reason the norm is for the opposite sexes to bond, but not those of the same sex. How can it be that only the opposites sexually bond. Throughout the universe this is not the way. Those on other worlds bond in any combination. Only here is opposite-gender bonding the norm.

  “I’m… I’m not sure I understand.”

  Another of the Pinks came up behind and beside the first one. It laid a hand on the first one’s shoulder.

  Yes. Yes, you do. You are more like us. Except there are only two of you.

  A third came up on the other side. He placed his hand upon the first one as well.

  We are three. It allows balance. It is stronger. It manages. Creates order.

  “Wait,” Adam said and marveled that his fear was gone. He was standing here with Shane—his lover—in the midst of these otherworldly creatures, and he was no longer afraid. And he thought he might be beginning to understand. “You three.” He nodded at the trio standing before them. “You’re mated.”

  Yes, came the response. And somehow he knew it was all three of them answering.

  “Oh wow,” said Shane. “And you’re all male.”

  They nodded.

  Of course. We are the same. How does your species do it? We’ve been trying to understand for so long.

  Dear God, thought Adam and looked at his Shane. “They’re all… homosexual?”

  Homo-sexual. Same-sexed. The same. The same understanding. The same. Of course. The way it is for us. Our species, what you call “Greys,” our bonds are… homosexual only. We are not considered the “norm” either. Most species bond in a way that seems haphazard to us. But somehow, some species, as with yours, the males and females bond beyond mating. Beyond procreation. And we do not understand.

  “I’ll be fucked,” Adam said. God.

  But you…. A few times we have found those of you that are like us. The two of you are not like most of your species. Both male. The same. The same understanding. Male and male. For when you are not procreating. A bonding we understand.

  Adam shook his head, astonished. “You’re gay.”

  The eyes showed… curiosity. He saw that it was trying to understand.

  “You’re saying,” Shane asked, “that out there in the universe, most other species are bisexual?”

  Bisexual? came the inquisitive reply.

  “Bisexual,” Shane repeated. “That most lifeforms can form any combination of… bonding? Coupling up?”

  Most, yes. Not all. There are a few of us that always bond… homosexual. And we… we are male to male to male. Female to female to female.

  “As trios,” Adam said. It was not a question. “Triads.”

  The alien gave a nod. Of course. Because there is understanding in sameness.

  “Who raises the children?” came Shane’s next question. “You do have children.”

  Procreate. Of course. To continue the species. The males raise the male offspring. The females raise the female offspring. The same. This is logical. This makes sense. And somewhat like most species on your world, we only come together with opposites when we are sexually fertile.

  Adam could only shake his head. Unbelievable.

  But today we find you. You two are more like us. You two make sense to us. You are the same.

  “Hardly!” Shane said with a bark of laughter.

  Same enough. And if there were three of you, that would bring balance when there are clashes. The third always bring negotiating. Mutual understanding and acceptance.

  “I think two is challenge enough,” Shane said. “Adam?”

  Adam agreed. “More than enough.”

  There is so much we do not understand. We haven’t meant to… harm. We have only been trying to understand you. And it was only a… force between you… that surprised us. Made us… more aware that there was some kind of bond between you.

  “Bond?” Shane asked.

  Oh God, thought Adam. “Do you mean love?” he replied.

  The alien nodded. Love.

  “Wow” was Adam’s only response.

  Are there more of you? We think we have encountered a few more.

  “More couples of the same sex?” Adam nodded. “Yes. But it’s only now becoming accepted. In our country at least. Some others. But there are places where it’s a crime. People die for loving their own sex.”

  The alien winced. Insanity.

  Adam nodded. Insanity indeed.

  There is still so very much we don’t understand. So much we want to understand.

  “Good luck,” Shane said. “We are a pretty weird group.” He nodded toward Adam. “Especially him.”

  “Shane!” Adam laughed.

  Weird? the alien asked.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Adam said and laughed again.

  We want to know more. This was a new voice.

  They turned, and a much taller being stepped into the room. It was no longer wearing a black trench coat. Or a hat.

  And it looked very much like a praying mantis. Its mouth parts worked, eyes blinked, short antenna bobbed.

  So much more. So many questions. With us there are only a few females to every male. One for hundreds.

  Like bees, thought Adam. Not like a praying mantis after all.

  This is normal for exoskeletal species, it, he, said.

  Insectoids. And now the memory of them came as well….

  “Well, we’re right here,” Shane said. “We’ll try to help. We’ll answer any questions you have.”

  “Shane,” Adam said and pulled his lover all the closer.

  Shane looked at him, determination showing in his eyes. “We have to,” he said.

  Adam sighed. Turned back to the creatures. The aliens.

  “But you can’t keep doing it the way you’re doing it,” Adam said.

  “You can’t keep hurting people,” Shane added. “Poking them. Prodding them. It’s an invasion. Ask us. We’ll help.”

  We are asking, said the triad then. And Adam knew it was all three asking.

  “That’s all you had to do,” Shane replied.

  37

  THEY SAT and drank coffee, and then they dressed and took a long walk and had lunch and sat on the back deck and even called Shane’s mother.

  They wrote and wrote and wrote in Shane’s book.

  They shared all they could remember… and then they remembered more.

  Adam called Ms. Minden, who was stunned at what he told her.

  “A book,” she said. “You’ll help? I’ll need your help.”

  Adam laughed. Help her write a book. Tell his story? His and Shane’s story?

  Was the world ready to find out that bisexuality was the norm in the universe? Except for the famous Greys, who were entirely gay and couldn’t understand anything else.

  He laughed all the more.

  Did he care?

  Yes, Shane thought. “We care. It will change the world. Gay people knowing what we have to say.”

  “No one will believe us,” Adam said. “If we help her—if we tell our stories�
�no one will believe. We’ll be laughed at. Ridiculed. The debunkers will attack our every word. Just like Travis Walton or Betty and Barney Hill. How many people will believe?”

  “Does it matter?” Shane asked.

  Did it?

  “Can we think about it?” Adam replied.

  Shane rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

  And that’s what Adam told her.

  “In the meantime, what about us?”

  “What about us?” Adam answered.

  “We’ve got a lot to figure out if we’re going to make this work.”

  Adam nodded. “We’ll figure it out,” he said. “We’re worth it.”

  Shane kissed him.

  And they began to figure it out.

  38

  “ALIENS,” DAPHNE said flatly.

  Adam nodded.

  She looked at him. Then at Shane.

  Shane nodded.

  And then she gave a single nod in response. No emotion.

  No. Wait. Something. He saw something. She had cop face. But she’d been his sister for thirty-two years. She couldn’t hide from him. There was something. But he just didn’t have any idea what it was.

  Daphne sipped her Buena Vista honey process, La Palma y El Tucán, direct trade from Colombia. They were all at The Shepherd’s Bean. Daphne, who hadn’t been bugging him too much for answers. Who had simply been thrilled that he and Shane were together.

  It had taken him two weeks to tell her what had happened. And now he was trying not to piss his pants.

  “You believe me? Really? But it’s so crazy….”

  She looked up. “I was the one who told you not to close your mind, wasn’t I?”

  “I….” He closed his mouth.

  Then: “Stranger things.” She gave him another single nod. “Stranger things under heaven and earth that you can dream of.”

  “My God,” he said. “You really do believe me.”

  “I said it before. You won’t believe the things I’ve seen.”

  “You gonna tell me?”

  She took another drink of her coffee. Looked at him.

  Adam thought she was never going to answer.

  Adam had just given up when she said, “Do you remember the Voodoo Killer last year?”