Wendy’s Alien

Wendy’s Alien
Jeremy called me up one late night and we decided that we were going to perform a covert cherry mission, so we loaded ourselves in his car and headed off for “Wolf’s” cherry orchard in the dead of night. It was late in the season, so we had a hard time finding anything, loaded up as much of the goods as we could carry in our sweatshirt pockets and headed back out. I was already a little skittish so it sent a shrill pain of anxiety through my stomach when both Jeremy and I stopped and, together stared at the figure holding fast against the trunk of a tree. Arguing in an anxious whisper back and forth, unbelievingly questioning whether the other really saw what each were facing, we described what we were witnessing. Against the cherry tree stood a child sized form with it’s head facing our opposite direction. It’s back clung to the tree with its arms tensely hugging the trunk. As our hearts were beating ferociously, whatever was inside its chest wouldn’t quiet and it’s uncontrollable breathing was the only movement it made. It glowed like white does on a clear night; only it wasn’t as bright, more like a gray. It was all the same light color but giving off a very dark, irk filled presence. As I begged Jeremy to escape into the safety of as far away as we could go, he walked closer. His intention was to kick the thing, just to see what would happen, how it would react. I kept pleading and eventually left on my own. Jumping at every snap of a twig, looking in every direction, all too slowly, I finally made it to his junker of a car that barely ran. I really hoped that it would start this time. I looked around every tire the thing sat on and behind every peeling seat that it encapsulated, rolled up the windows, and locked the doors. The jerk finally showed up and while I hit him significantly, we drove off. He then told me that he only got close enough to see that it’s outfit had seams because it’s subordinates were closing in. I only recall him telling me about one or two more, but they were crawling in on their stomachs trying, like their friend, not to be discovered. I didn’t want to go strait home because, as you know, some dogs follow. We went down to Balfour and waited through a police sobriety checkpoint, and after telling them what we had seen, they still let us go…Morons, it’s amazing they ever catch anyone.  :)  -1996?
Christmas 2000