I sit in my apartment watching a rerun of the X-Files. Flashback of Agent Muldur’s little sister being taken away by aliens. I’ve been living in California for several years now, faking a marriage to get my green card. I’ve been a migrant laborer for years and now I’m working as a waiter. My English has gotten quite good. I hear a sudden boom outside, like lightning and an LP scratching mixed together. It sounds like Doc Brown’s time traveling train has just materialized, hovering over my apartment. I go outside tentatively. Seeing nothing I turn to go back inside when I am lifted up into what I take to be a beam of light. It has no substance yet I cannot move. It appears orchid in color, of a purplish hue. Something within the beam sparkles, like fireflies but miniscule. With great effort I’m able to look above me. I see the vague outline of a vast ship. It’s wedge-shaped, like the B-2 bomber, only unfathomably larger. My heart backfires. I imagine it as a prisoner in a cage of bone. I’m sweating suddenly. Water runs down my armpits toward my waist.
I look and see a round door open above me from which sun-rivaling light emanates. It makes no sound. I am held inside the beam. Four alien-looking creatures with big, Disney princess eyes and Edvard Munch’s The Scream faces support me with their white-tipped frog-like hands. The beam shuts off. They strap me into a chair perfectly proportioned to fit my frame. The restraints are made of a material I’ve never felt before. Kind of like wet lips. The restraints feel soft but they don’t budge when I try to yank free. I’m bound at my wrists, elbows, chest, knees, and ankles. My four captors leave the room. I feel the craft whoosh away at great speed. Soon afterward a single creature walks up to me. He stands beside me. He studies me, looking me over like a cut of meat.
“Name,” he states in a voice like billiard balls clacking.
It takes me a few seconds to realize what he wants.
“Julio. Who are you? What is this place?”
“Laboratory.” The creature twitches like an insect.
“Who are you? What is your name?”
He considers my interrogatory. “Blorfo.”