My Friend is an Alien (niklas and friends)

by Niklas Edlund

  "You can smell that from out here!?" exclaimed Davy. "No wonder you guys show up for dinner so often. Your tent's a lot closer."

  "Next he'll be telling us what the drink is." remarked Niklas.

  "Berry flavored Hawaiian Punch." said Jahv. This got him skeptical looks from the other two boys. Jahv grinned. "No, I couldn't smell it, but it's the only drink your mom keeps around that doesn't have a lot of citrus in it, other than milk."

  "Think your mom would mind if I stayed for dinner?" asked Niklas. "We've been having TV dinners and leftovers lately."

  "Knowing my mom, she'd insist." said Davy. "Come on, let's go."

  "Um, you guys have clothes. I don't." said Jahv. "And I know how she feels about that."

  "So, you can use my undershorts." offered Davy, as the threesome headed away from the pond. "It's not much, but it'll be enough for her and Dad."

  "Hey, guys, thanks for today." said Jahv. "It was fun. All of it."

  "Nobody has to thank nobody," said Davy. "It was fun for all of us. But I'm glad you're my friends."

  "Same here," said Niklas. "Hey, I just realized something! We got through the whole day without anything disastrous happening!"

  "Oh, that reminds me, I've been working on a new invention that should make dinner a little more efficient," said Jahv. "It's an automatic condiment dispenser. If you'll let me get it from the tent, I can.

  "No way, pal!" said Davy. "You're marching right into the house and eating dinner like a normal person! Niklas, I don't care how strong he is, don't let him get anywhere near the tent!"

  "No worries there!" Both Davy and Niklas grabbed an arm of the young Botaran, who didn't especially resist when escorted directly to the Caulfield home.

  Friends. They may be goofy or silly sometimes, or even totally out of this world. But it's good to have them.

  Part 14

  Keith Dillinger was not especially happy this morning, despite it being another warm and sunny summer day. His grandmother, Eleanor Eldenheim, had packed him off to the laundromat. Normally, this was something that would not happen, but their washing machine had broken down, and frankly, they were both running out of wearable clothes. Since Keith had left his bicycle at the home of his mother and stepfather, which was too far to go to either fetch the bicycle or take the clothes, Keith had been relegated to placing a large laundry basket on his skateboard, tying a length of rope to the skateboard, and dragging the thing into town. He couldn't even ride the skateboard and make better time. Not with the laundry basket on it.

  Keith was trying to see the bright side of the situation, but there wasn't a whole lot of that to see. He had at least managed to place most of his own clothes that needed washing on top of the laundry pile, so his grandmother's flowery dresses and (eeew!) underwear were tucked further down in the basket, largely out of sight. And, he admitted to himself resignedly, this was still a preferable activity to hanging around his mother's house and getting yelled at by his step-father for every little thing. Still, the boy was in a grim mood.

  Then he looked up and saw someone coming the other direction, who honestly didn't look much happier. This was a little surprising, since the person coming the other direction was Keith's best friend Martin, who usually was a very upbeat and chipper youngster. Martin was on his bicycle, but somewhat incongruously dressed in clothes better suited for Sunday morning church services. Long-sleeved white shirt, dark trousers, and his hair was ridiculously neatly combed.

  Martin saw Keith and brightened just a bit. "Hey, Keith!" Martin stopped the bike next to his friend.

  "What's with the formal wear?" asked Keith. Then he sniffed the air. "And why do you smell like room freshener spray?"

  Martin groaned. "My Aunt Matilda. She hasn't visited in like three years, so my mom wanted everything to look special for her visit. Including me."

  "And smell special, apparently." added Keith, trying not to laugh.

  "No, that was HER." said Martin. "I think she weighs about 300 pounds and she took one look at me and said, 'What a BIG boy you are! and started kissing me! Gross!"

  Keith did his best not to laugh. He knew the type of relative Martin was describing. He didn't have any such aunts himself, thank goodness, but he knew a few other kids who did. "Does your mom know you ducked out dressed like that?"

  "Yeah," said Martin. "I ran into the kitchen when she started kissing me. I couldn't get up to my room without getting past HER, and Mom saw I wasn't too happy. So she said I could go ride my bike around for a few hours as long as I was careful not to get these clothes too dirty. So what about you?"

  "Our washing machine is broken." explained Keith. "My grandma's sending me to that laundromat at the edge of town. You can help, if you want."

  Martin chewed his lip. "Um, how?"

  "You've got a bike." said Keith. "I can get there a lot faster on that than walking. If you let me ride the bike, you can ride on the handlebars or something, and we can tie the skateboard with the laundry basket to the back of your bike."

  Martin pondered this idea for a minute. "Are you sure you can keep the bike balanced with me on it?"

  "It's not that far to go on the bike," said Keith. "I'm sure I can manage it."

  "Well… okay." Martin hopped off the bike and helped Keith tie the skateboard to the back of it.

  "By the way, how'd your hair get so wet?" asked Keith.

  "Oh, I forgot about that." said Martin, as they headed back to the bike. "Mom slicked it back so I'd look neater. It's just water. I guess I thought it'd've dried off by now."

  "In THIS summer's humidity?" remarked Keith.

  Martin then shook his head several times rapidly, spraying water on Keith. "Thanks a lot. You get that idea from that mutt of yours?"

  "Oops, sorry," said Martin. "But how does my hair look now?"

  Keith tried not to laugh. By shaking his head, Martin had gotten a fair amount of the water out of his hair, but his hair had also stuck up in every direction as a result, "Like you stuck your finger in an electrical outlet."

  Martin's eyes went wide, and he patted down his hair with his hands a bit. "That's better," said Keith. "Almost normal. Now climb on and let's go."

  It was relatively slow going. Balancing Martin on the bicycle was more difficult than Keith had expected. Though the younger boy was almost one foot smaller, Keith has underestimated his weight on the front wheel so that steering the bike became a surprisingly tough job. And since Martin's bike was a bit smaller than Keith's as well, its seat was so low that Keith had some problems looking past the slightly wet head that was swaying before his nose. While pedaling slowly he passed the time by describing the laundromat to Martin, who had never been there. Keith had only been there once before, about a year ago, when the same thing had happened. His grandmother's washing machine had broken down. The place was run by this old guy who actually lived in an apartment in the back. It was fully automated, so he hardly ever even bothered to come out to the counter area. There was a small arcade in the back. The laundry machines were surprisingly state-of-the-art, but the arcade was ancient. The games all still worked, though.

  Keith couldn't see much more than the sidewalk and the middle of the road left and right of Martin's head, but this was still enough to find their way to the laundromat. At least he thought so. But then disaster struck. All of a sudden the front wheel ran into a pothole that was filled with dirty water. Keith had mistaken it for nothing more than a small puddle, but it was deep enough to unbalance the overloaded bike instantly. Keith felt the handlebars slipping through his fingers and ramming into his stomach while at the same time the seat under his butt lifted and chucked him out. He flew through the air and landed half on Martin, half in a rather cold and soft material just to the side of the road. It was a large, dirty, and somewhat thick puddle … half-water and half-mud, leftover from a recent thunderstorm.

  Squirming to regain his footing, Keith stood up. Besides the fact that the handlebars had hit him and that one half of him was so
aked with dirty water, he wasn't hurt. But Martin still lay face-down in the puddle, stunned. With a concerned look Keith bent down to his friend and touched the boy's shoulder. Finally, Martin lifted his head, dripping with dirty water and mud, and after a moment of silence he began to cry.

  "Are you okay?" asked Keith and tried to find out if Martin had suffered any injuries.

  The small boy took a deep breath just to cry out: "Noooo!"

  Carefully, Keith dragged his friend out of the puddle and pulled him up to his feet though Martin was almost too upset to stand. "I mean, are you hurt or something?" he asked the crying boy.

  "Noooo!" answered Martin with the same deep breath. "But… look!" He spread his arms a little and looked down himself. His formerly white shirt was greyish-brown. splattered with mud and dirty water, his dark pants were similarly splattered, they just didn't show it as much. "My mom's gonna kill meeeee!"

  "It was an accident," said Keith. "And I don't see your mom killing much of anybody." Keith said it gently. Martin's parents were the kind of parents Keith wished he had. They doted on the boy almost to excess. Martin, in turn, did everything he could within reason to behave, but was also terrified of getting out of line. Though Keith was sure that his friend wasn't in too much trouble, he still felt guilty about the mishap. It had been his idea to ride the bike as they had, and Keith should've noticed at the outset that they were misbalanced.

  "What do we do now?" cried Martin.

  "Um… I think there's probably a way to fix this mess", Keith said after a moment of thinking. "I mean, we're heading for a laundromat. We have detergent and we have money."

  * * *

  They reached the laundromat about ten minutes later. It was a huge place, really the only laundromat in town, and it had literally dozens of machines. Martin was protesting. "Keith, I don't understand. How are we supposed to wash the clothes we're wearing! We don't have anything else to wear!"

  "So, we just stay put in the laundromat, that's all." replied Keith. "I doubt there'll be anyone else in there. The place hardly ever gets used since most people have their own washing machines these days."

  "I am NOT taking all of my clothes off in a place like that!" insisted Martin. "The pond and the mudhole out at Davy's farm is one thing, but not here!"

  "Not all your clothes," said Keith. "Keep your underwear and shoes. I'm going to do the same thing, so if anybody does see us, then we'll both look like a couple of idiots. But no one's going to see us, okay? Can you really see anybody that we know bothering to go into a laundromat?"

  Martin sighed. "I guess not."

  "And which would you rather do?" asked Keith. "Hang around in one place, with me, in your underwear for a little while, or go home and try to explain that mess?"

  Martin almost cringed. "Okay. Underwear, then."

  The two boys cautiously but quickly entered the laundromat. Keith looked around. The place was quiet. No other machines were running, and as expected, there was no sign of the old guy that ran the place behind the counter. "Okay," said Keith. "Let's pick out a machine near the back of the store, away from the window and closer to the arcade."

  Keith and Martin carried the laundry basket in, and scooted towards the back. The laundry machines were massive, and Keith noticed that they were combination washer-and-dryers. This was a new development from last year. All you had to do, apparently, was throw your clothes in, put the money in, and that was that. The machine would do the rest from start to finish.

  "Okay, let's get started," said Keith, first reaching into the pockets of his jeans to extract several dollars in change, part of it provided by his grandmother for the laundry, the rest rounded up by himself for video games. Then he pulled a small cel phone out of the other pocket. His grandmother had loaned him this in case he needed to contact her. He tucked the cel phone into one of his socks he was wearing, and stuffed the extra change into one of his shoes.

  "Are you sure no one's going to come in here?" said Martin.

  "Relax. Even if someone does, they won't know us, and I'm here with you." said Keith. "Besides, people do this in laundromats all the time. I've seen it."

  "You sure?" asked Martin.

  "Of course I'm sure." What he didn't tell Martin was that those times he'd seen it, it had been on some television sitcom his grandmother was watching, and invariably the people doing it got into some sort of trouble. "Besides, we don't have much choice."

  "I… guess not." said Martin, unbuttoning his shirt and removing it, and then very reluctantly unzipping his pants and pulling them off. Keith did likewise with less hesitation.

  They loaded the clothes into the massive machine, Keith tossed in a packet of detergent his grandmother had given him, closed the door, put the money into the slot, and started it up. "How long do you think it'll take?" asked Martin.

  "Uhhh", said Keith and tried to stuff his hands into his pockets and then he noticed that there were no pockets since he wore just a pair of light blue underpants. He folded his arms instead and thought back to the time he once had been here. "I think about maybe… half an hour?" He didn't sound nearly as sure as he would've liked to, and admittedly he wasn't. Laundry wasn't exactly something he paid much attention to.

  "Okay", said Martin and scratched his bare arms. He was still somewhat dirty and the dirt was itching.

  "We'll just have to wait for the machine to turn off. Come on, there's a restroom next to the arcade. We can get our faces cleaned off in there. And our arms."

  It didn't take too long to wash off. There was a long roll of paper towels in the restroom, and a few minutes later, Keith and Martin and cleaned the road mud from their faces, arms, and even hair. Now it was just a matter of waiting for the clothes to be clean.

  It was when they exited the restroom that Martin first spotted the sign on the wall, which had been well above the boys' heads when they walked in. "Oh, no. Keith…"

  Keith read the sign. "NEW SAFETY FEATURE — LAUNDRY MACHINES LOCK FOR SECURITY UPON ACTIVATION. FULL LAUNDRY CYCLE… 3 HOURS."

  "Three hours!?" exclaimed Martin.

  Keith felt bad. He honestly hadn't realized. But it made sense. Three hours was a pretty long laundry cycle. At least he guessed it was. The price, he supposed, of having a machine that did the washing AND the drying all in one. And it also made sense for the machines to lock upon activation, since most people wouldn't want to hang around the laundromat for that period of time. They'd want to go elsewhere and run errands or something, and come back just in time for the machine to finish up. But they'd also want to know that their clothes weren't going to be stolen or anything in the meantime, hence the automatic lock.

  Of course, most people wouldn't be stuck in just their underwear.

  "Ohhhh, man! Is that for real? What do they mean by 'three hours'? How can anybody stay here and wait for THREE HOURS?!" exclaimed Martin, turning a bit red, half from anger, half from potential embarrassment. He looked a bit weird in his white underwear combined with black shoes and socks, and he knew it.

  "Are you expected home anytime soon?" asked Keith, sincerely concerned. He was already trying to think up some excuses for Martin's behalf.

  "No, not really," said Martin. "Aunt Matilda was going to be visiting all day. Mom said as long as I was home by dinner that was fine. But Keith, what are we going to do? I mean… three hours?"

  "Nothing." said Keith. His major concern had just been addressed. No one was going to miss Martin that soon. "Nothing we can do. We'll just have to wait it out." He put his hands on his hips, trying to look more decisive, but this made him feel even more weird. Funny, how skinny he suddenly felt while standing in underwear in a somewhat public place. The feeling made him shiver a little though the air was pretty warm. But he couldn't very well let on that he felt almost as uncomfortable with this situation as Martin did.

  Martin scowled, unconvinced. Keith sighed. "Look, we've got the arcade. Okay, most of the games are older than we are, but that just means we probably haven't play
ed them before, so that can't be too bad. And there's a soda machine in there, and another one with candy and crackers in it, so we won't starve. Try to see it as an adventure."

  "In our underwear," said Martin sourly.

  "This from the kid who survived being tossed into an interplanetary brig on a spaceship with less than that?" said Keith, trying to sound cheerful and encouraging. "Come on, what's a couple hours in a laundromat in your Fruit-of-the-Looms compared to that?"

  Martin cringed. "Don't remind me. That was awful."

  "But…?" asked Keith, trying to sound upbeat.

  "Okay. I guess that was worse than this." said Martin.

  "And you survived that." concluded Keith. "So you can survive this. Now come on, let's see what sort of video games this place has."

  They were just about to head over to the arcade area when the door to the laundromat opened, and trouble walked in. It was a huge lady that could have been a cousin of Martin's aunt Matilda. She carried a bright colored plastic basket with clothes in her massive arms and headed for one of the machines. If the lady was alone, there was the chance that she might go away after she had unloaded her laundry. But unfortunately, there was somebody in her company, a girl of about ten or eleven years.

  Keith swore. "Couldn't they pick another day to do their laundry?" he whispered.

  "I'll go and play a little", said the girl, jingling with some coins in her hand. The fat lady just sighed and put the basket down in front of the chosen machine. And then the girl came straight towards the small arcade room where the two boys in underwear hid behind a corner.

  "Keith, what do we do now?" whimpered Martin. Getting caught in undies by grown-ups was bad enough. Getting caught in the same situation by a girl of their age was a fate worse than death in Martin's book… and Keith's as well, frankly.

  "Sssshhhhh!" said Keith and pushed Martin deeper into the corner behind a candy machine, already trying to think of a way out of this mess but not immediately seeing one.