The Unexpected Visitor
"Jordan, make sure you stow the hose and the cart properly in the barn, okay? It's almost dinner time. You know your Mom does not want us to leave the food waiting at the table and get cold!" The voice of the elder male reverberates across the field as he finishes herding the last of his sheep into the pen for the night.
His instructions were promptly heeded by the younger male, who was making his way into the mahogany-hued outhouse. "I'm on it, Dad. Were you able to catch up with Polly? Today has been the twelfth time she's gotten lost -- or run away. Such a cheeky little bugger, she is!"
As Nigel shuts the gate of the sheep pen, he starts heading towards the barn, where his son is. "Yep! She'll be right, son. She never wanders too far off anyway. But..." he pauses mid-sentence as he stops by the door of the outhouse, looking at Jordan tidying up the rest of the barn. "We could definitely use some help around here. I'm knackered enough as it is!"
"I know what you mean, Dad. With just you and me and Mom on this farm, and no one else for miles, it's kind of hard to get people to work with us... unless of course they take a liking to living here in the barn. But yeah, we could definitely use an extra hand around here, especially if Polly keeps running off like that." As Jordan proceeds to the loft to check on a few more things, he exclaims, "Just go on ahead to the house, Dad. I'll finish up here."
"Alright, son. I'll go ahead," Nigel responds, looking at himself and the evidence of a hard day's work smeared all over his clothes. "Seems like I'm going to need more clean up time than you." He walks out of the barn and heads to their two-story house, just 50 meters away.
Halfway on the field toward their residence, Nigel notices a faint purplish-white dot in the sky, standing out against the backdrop of the waning sunlight. He is halted by inherent curiosity; he looks up and realizes that the orb of light is steadily increasing in size and in the intensity of its brightness. As if magically glued to the ground he stood on, Nigel is stunned and awestruck at the celestial phenomenon that was taking place in his farm's airspace.
Before he could do or say anything, the orb zooms past above his head. Niger follows its trajectory, and sees it crash into the barn with a loud, thundering explosion.
"Oh no! Jordaaan!!!"
Nigel frantically races back to the outhouse, concerned about the welfare of his son. Approaching the barn, he cries out again, "Jordaaan!" No response came.
As he enters the building, however, he observes that the orb tore a huge, gaping hole in the roof, narrowly missing the loft.
"Dad!!!" Jordan emerges from the barn's second level, bewildered and a little frightened. "What happened? One minute I was organizing the equipment up here... and the next, I get slammed onto the floor by a shockwave, followed by a deafening blast!"
"A star... Jord! A star fell through... through the roof!" Nigel encapsulates the occurrence while catching his breath.
"What?!" Jordan's face displays what is unmistakably equal parts incredulity and trepidation. He makes his way downstairs toward his father, trembling and in disbelief.
"I saw it fall from the sky... as I was heading back to the house. It shot straight into the barn! I had feared something bad might have happened to you," he says as he grabs his boy, giving him a grateful hug. "Man, am I glad you're alright!"
Jordan reciprocates the embrace. "I'm okay, Dad. I... I have this slight ringing in my ear... and... I bruised my right elbow. But otherwise, I'm fine."
Both men pull away from each other and look into each other's eyes, grateful they were both unharmed. Nigel, in relief, tousles his son's hair. They then turn their attention toward the crash site at the back end of the building.
"Okay! Let's have a look at our mysterious intruder, shall we?" Nigel points a finger at the glowing, mildly pulsating section of their barn: an unusual sighting in their farm... or anywhere else in the general Clandeboye area.
As father and son slowly approach the recognizably periwinkle glimmer, the younger man firmly grabs the elder's right shoulder. "Dad... are you sure this... is safe?" he inquires, briefly halting them in their steps. "We have no idea what... that... thing is." Jordan gazes into his father's eyes with the understandable apprehension of a 17-year-old.
"Well... I guess... it should be... safe. I mean, for an outer space object to enter the atmosphere and surprisingly not burn up like crazy... is a good sign... I think. And look..." Nigel directs his son's attention to the hole in the roof, and then to the pile of glowing rubble a few feet ahead of them. "Neither is on fire. This barn should be on fire... and... obliterated by the impact... but it isn't." He turns to Jordan and assuringly looks into his sons's eyes. "We'll proceed with caution, Jord."
"Alright, Dad."
The men continue to walk closer to the site of the impact; Nigel leading Jordan. As they come within ten feet of the unidentified, extraterrestrial object, a ball of pale periwinkle light emerges from the fragments of wood and roofing material strewn on the ground. The orb hovers almost six feet from the rubble, as if to rise approximately to the height of Nigel and Jordan's eye levels. It then begins to placidly radiate a vibrant shade of magenta as it grows bright enough for two squinting pairs of eyes to still observe the phenomenon.
Nigel and Jordan stare at the orb in astonishment; every trace of fear inexplicably erased by this unexpectedly tranquil close encounter. Both men turn to look at each other and see that neither is perturbed. As father and son bring their sights back to their visitor, the orb languidly emits two ribbons of light, slowly and gracefully dancing toward each of the men.
Unsure of how to react to the object's gesture of reaching out to them, Jordan, transfixed on the stream of light headed towards his face, lets out a shaky cry of hesitation: "Daaaaad!"
"It's okay, Jord," the father tries to quell his son's apprehension by reaching out and holding Jordan's hand. "I'm here. I'm experiencing this, too."
The ribbons of light continue to inch closer to the men's faces. Nigel turns to look at Jordan, whose eyes were now both shut. He then turns his head to the direction of the orb just as the streams of light touch his forehead and his son's.
"Oh boy!" Nigel exclaims, half-expecting something terrible to happen.
At the moment the magenta ribbons of light land on their foreheads, both men feel a warm sensation surrounding their crania. Nigel opens his eyes; surprised that he didn't feel anything out of the ordinary other than the warmth that was now permeating and penetrating his skull.
"Jord?!" He calls out to his son.
"Yeah?"
"You okay?"
"I don't feel anything. I mean, I feel... some sort of heat in my brain."
"Are you hurt?"
"Uh..." Jordan takes a deep breath and opens his eyes. "...I don't seem to be. You?"
"No," the father responds calmly.
Nigel continues to stare at the orb, whose light has now dimmed to a lavender glow that was easy enough for the naked eye to gaze at. He continues holding his son's hand.
Moments later, the warm feeling around Nigel's and Jordan's heads start to dissipate as the two ribbons of light gently recede into the floating ball of light. The orb hovers in place, while father and son stare at each other -- again -- uncertain of what had just happened.
ć»Ÿđ㇄㇄ă đé©ć°șäžć ćă©çȘé©đäž
"Whoa! It speaks!" Jordan was taken aback.
Nigel releases his son's hand and places his right palm on Jordan's left shoulder instead, as if telling him to just simply listen.
The soothing, masculine voice that emanated from inside the orb -- although somewhat sounding garbled -- somehow sustains Nigel's confidence that this meeting was going to be anything but injurious.
ăđäž⸝ ć·„ äžć°žđé©éż.
ć·„ ćé©áŻđ é©㇄ć°șđé©áȘäž« á¶é©èź đđáȘ
çȘé©äžäžđć°șäž« ăïŸ äž«ăă©ć°ș ㇄é©đá¶ă©é©á¶đ
ć±±ćđđ ć·„ đ〤é©çȘèź đđáȘ äž«ăă©ć°ș çȘèź đáȘäž.
"Sweet as!"
"Jordan! Shhh..."
"Oh. Sorry, Dad."
ć·„〸äž¶äž ăéżé©äž«⸝ đèź á¶đ㇄.
ć·„ ă©đáȘđć°șäž〸é©đáȘ äž«ăă©ć°ș ⼕ćèź ㇄áȘäž¶äž é©çȘé©âČđçȘđđ〸.
韱ïŸïŸäžć°žć°șèź đá¶ ïŸć°șăçȘ ăă©ć°ș ć°ž㇄é©đđäž
⼕é©ć°șć°șäž« ć°žć°șđ〸ă»äž« çȘă©⼕ć äžćđ äžé©çȘđ áȘđçȘđé©đăć°ș
èź đ äžćđ ć°žć°șđäžđđ⼕đ ăïŸ 〸ćđ ă©đă©äžă©é©㇄.
ć±±đ ćé©áŻđ Éă©èź ă»đ é© ㇄ăäž ăïŸ ă»ćèź đá¶äž
èź đ ⼕ăçȘçȘăđ.
The extraterrestrial's words pique Nigel's curiosity even more. Seeing that it seemed docile and unaggressive, he unconsciously voices out the barrage of questions in his mind. "Where did you come from? What kind of being are you? And... why are you here?"
At that moment, as if prepared for any eventual interstellar inquiry, the orb emits several projected images from within itself.
"Cool," Jordan expresses his wonderment at the visitor's presentation. "The Milky Way, huh? We see this quite a lot in our night sky."
ăđäž. ć·„ ć°șđé©㇄èź âČđáȘ 〸ćé©ă».
äž«ăă© é©ć°șđ Éă©èź 〸đ ć°žć°șèź áŻèź ㇄đá¶đáȘ.
As the holographic map of our galaxy surrounding the trio begins to move, zooming in on one section of the Milky Way, the orb begins to introduce itself.
ć·„ é©çȘ á¶äž¶đăă©ć±±éżă© çȘđèź ćäž¶〸é©.
ăăă© çȘé©äž« ⼕é©㇄㇄ çȘđ á¶é©đăă
-- çȘäž« đèź ⼕éżđé©çȘđ⸝ é©äž äž«ăă© đé©ć°șäžć㇄èź đá¶äž
ć±±ăă©㇄áȘ äžé©äž«.
ăćèź äž ć°žé©ć°ș〸èź ⼕ă©㇄é©ć°ș Éă©é©áȘć°șé©đă»
ăïŸ đäž¶ăă 韱ă»èź ⻏⻏ -- ăă©ć°ș äžćé©ć°șđáȘ á¶é©㇄é©〤äž« --
èź äž ć±±ćđć°șđ ć·„ ⼕ăçȘđ ïŸć°șăçȘ.
While Ganoo speaks, the lights forming the visuals surrounding them dance and animate according to its narrative.
韱ă©ć°ș äžć°žđ⼕èź ïŸèź ⼕ äžć°žđ⼕èź đäž ăïŸ ⻏đèź đá¶äž
ć±±đć°șđ ⼕ć°șđé©〸đáȘ ïŸăć°ș ăđđ đă⻏㇄đ ć°žă©ć°șć°žăäžđ:
〸ă é©èź áȘđ ćă©çȘé©đäž
èź đ ć±±ćé©äžđáŻđć°ș ⼕é©ć°žé©⼕èź äžäž« ć±±đ ⼕é©đ.
ăćé©ă» èź äž ć±±ćäž« ć·„ é©çȘ ćđć°șđ.
ăćé©ă» èź äž ć±±ćäž« ć·„ ćé©áŻđ ⼕ăçȘđ.
ăăă© đđđáȘ ćđ㇄ć°ž é©ć°șăă©đáȘ 〸ćđ ïŸé©ć°șçȘ.
ăćé©〸 èź äž ć±±ćé©äž äž«ăă© ćé©áŻđ ⻏đđđ äžé©äž«èź đá¶
ïŸăć°ș 〸ćđ ㇄ăđá¶đäžäž 〸èź çȘđ.
ć·„ é©çȘ ćđć°șđ äžă äžđć°șáŻđ äž«ăă©
é©đáȘ äž«ăă©ć°ș ïŸé©çȘèź ㇄äž«⸝ đèź á¶đ㇄ é©đáȘ äžżăć°șáȘé©đ.
"Wow! Really?" Jordan exclaims, his face lighting up with a huge ear-to-ear smile. "A friend from the stars! That's something not everyone has in the South Island, Dad! Amazing, eh?"
"Uh... I don't think anyone else on the planet has one of these, son," Nigel turns to Jordan and interjects; he himself enchanted and excited. "I mean, how often do you suppose friendly aliens fall to the earth from outer space? Right... Ganoo?"
é©⼕〸ă©é©㇄㇄äž«... çȘăć°șđ ć°șđá¶ă©㇄é©ć°ș㇄äž«
ă»ćé©đ äž«ăă© ⼕é©đ èź çȘé©á¶èź đđ.
ăăă© äžđđ⸝ é© ㇄ăäž ăïŸ äž«ăă©ć°ș
ïŸđ㇄㇄ăć±± đé©ć°șă»ć㇄èź đá¶äž
é©ć°șđ èź đ á¶ć°șđé©äž đđđáȘ ăïŸ ćđ㇄ć°ž.
ćăć°ș ⼕đđă»ă©ć°șèź đäž⸝ çȘäž« éżèź đáȘ
ćé©äž ⻏đđđ áȘèź äžć°žé©ă»⼕ćđáȘ
äžă äžćèź äž ć°ž㇄é©đđäž ïŸăć°ș 〸ćđ äžă㇄đ ć°žă©ć°șć°žăäžđ
ăïŸ é©äžäžèź äž〸èź đá¶ ćă©çȘé©đäž
"Centuries? How come... no, wait," Nigel begins to recall and recount stories he's heard or read about UFO sightings and meteors crashing on Earth with varying degrees of impact -- on the news and on the planet's surface. "Those were stories of your kind... arriving on our world?" He looks at Ganoo, awed at what he just realized.
äž«đäž.
"But how come we hardly hear reports about balls of light floating around the cities of the world? Your appearance is kind of... hard to ignore," Nigel remarks.
ăćé©〸äž¶äž ⻏đ⼕é©ă©äžđ ć±±đ é©ć°șđ⸝
é©çȘăđá¶ ăă»ćđć°ș ă»ćèź đá¶äž⸝ äžćé©ć°žđäžćèź ïŸă»đć°șäž.
韱đ⼕đ ć±±đ ㇄é©đáȘ ăđ äž«ăă©ć°ș ć°ž㇄é©đđ〸⸝
ć±±đ ⼕ăć°žäž« 〸ćđ ć°žćäž«äžèź ă㇄ăá¶äž«
ăïŸ é©đäž« ㇄èź ïŸđ ïŸăć°șçȘ ć±±đ áȘđđçȘ đđ⼕đäžäžé©ć°șäž«
äžă ïŸă©㇄ïŸèź ㇄㇄ ăă©ć°ș ć°žă©ć°șć°žăäžđ.
As it continues to communicate with the humans, Ganoo pulsates and radiates varied intensities of light, while the images around them display the visual interpretation of Ganoo's statements.
"Are you staying with us for good?" Jordan asks.
äž«đäž.
韱ă©ć°ș çȘèź äžäžèź ăđ èź äž é© ㇄èź ïŸđ㇄ăđá¶ ăđđ.
ć±±đ ㇄đé©áŻđ ăă©ć°ș ć°ž㇄é©đđ〸.
ć±±đ đđáŻđć°ș á¶ă ⻏é©⼕éż.
èź á¶ă©đäžäž äž«ăă© ⼕é©đ äžé©äž«
〸ćé©〸 ăă©ć°ș ćă©çȘé©đäž
⻏đ⼕ăçȘđ ăă©ć°ș ïŸăć°șđáŻđć°ș ïŸé©çȘèź ㇄äž«
ăđ⼕đ ć±±đ ïŸèź đáȘ 〸ćđçȘ é©đáȘ ⼕ăđđđ⼕ă» ć±±èź äžć äžćđçȘ.
Nigel ponders on what Ganoo had just said. Feeling a little forlorn about this alien species' life goal, he inquires, "Doesn't that make you sad? To never get to see your kind... your family... ever again."
ć±±đ áȘă đă〸 éżđăć±± äžé©áȘđđäžäž
èź đ ăă©ć°ș ć°ž㇄é©đđäž.
⻏ă©ă» ć±±đ ć±±đć°șđ 〸ă㇄áȘ
äžćé©äž ăđ⼕đ ć±±đ äžé©éżđ ć°žćäž«äžèź ⼕é©㇄ ïŸăć°șçȘ
ăđ đé©ć°șă»ć⸝ ć±±đ ć±±ăă©㇄áȘ ⻏đ é©⻏㇄đ
〸ă đ〤ć°žđć°șèź đđ⼕đ é©đáȘ đ〤ć°žć°șđäžäž
é© ć±±èź áȘđ é©ć°șć°șé©äž« ăïŸ đçȘăäžèź ăđäž
é©đáȘ äžđđäžé©ă»èź ăđäž.
èź é©çȘ ㇄ăăéżèź đá¶ ïŸăć°șć±±é©ć°șáȘ 〸ă 〸ćé©ă».
é©đáȘ èź é©çȘ đé©á¶đć°ș äžă äžđć°șáŻđ äž«ăă©
é©đáȘ äž«ăă©ć°ș ïŸé©çȘèź ㇄äž«.
"Oh... uh... thank you...?" Nigel's expression hints at his mixed emotions regarding this whole scenario, and how it might affect their lives moving forward.
Jordan, on the other hand, had other things in mind. "So... Ganoo... who chooses the form you are to change into?"
èź ć±±èź ㇄㇄ ă©㇄ă»èź çȘé©ă»đ㇄äž« çȘé©éżđ äžćé©〸 ⼕ćăèź ⼕đ.
⻏ă©ă» äž«ăă© ⼕é©đ ⼕đć°șäžé©èź đ㇄äž«
çȘé©éżđ é© äžă©á¶á¶đäž〸èź ăđ.
"I have something in mind..." Jordan smiles at Ganoo and closes his eyes. The orb senses what the boy is asking for,
Once again, a ribbon of purplish light streams out from Ganoo's circumference and proceeds to touch Jordan's forehead, probing his thoughts.
ćçȘçȘçȘ... èź äžđđ. đ〤⼕đ㇄㇄đđ〸 ăć°ž〸èź ăđ⸝ äžżăć°șáȘé©đ.
äžćé©äž ć±±é©äž çȘäž« ïŸèź ć°șäžă» ⼕ćăèź ⼕đ é©äž ć±±đ㇄㇄.
"Jordan?" Nigel looks at his son worriedly; uncertain of what Jordan came up with and what was about to happen next. "What did you...?" Before Nigel could finish the sentence, Ganoo begins to pulsate right before their eyes.
In a matter of moments, the light emanating from the orb starts to intensify until father and son could no longer stare at the glare of the bright, magenta ball of light. Heat also issues from Ganoo as its brightness envelops Nigel and Jordan first; then the entire interior of the outhouse.
"Daaaad!"
Nigel remains silent.
Minutes later, the heat subsides and both men open their eyes.
"Where'd he go?" the younger asks.
"He must have changed his form already," the elder surmised. "What did you have in mind, young man?" He finally got to complete his question.
Just then, out from the roof's rubble and the strewn hay on the floor of the barn, a chocolate-colored Labrador Retriever slowly approaches Jordan.
"Ganoo?"
The dog wags its tail excitedly at the teenager and lets out a bark. "Woof, woof!!!""
Nigel's eyes widens with a realization: "Of course! You've been wanting to get one since you were ten." Delighted at this turn of events, he looks at his son lovingly, joyful that Jordan finally found a best buddy.
ïŸć°șăçȘ đăć±± ăđ⸝ äžćèź äž ć±±èź ㇄㇄ ⻏đ ă»ćđ ïŸăć°șçȘ
èź ć±±èź ㇄㇄ é©ć°žć°žđé©ć°ș ă»ă çȘăäž〸 ćă©çȘé©đäž.
é©đáȘ èź ć±±èź ㇄㇄ äž〸èź ㇄㇄ ⼕ăçȘçȘă©đèź ⼕é©äžđ ć±±èź 〸ć äž«ăă© ă»đ㇄đć°žé©äžćèź ⼕é©㇄㇄äž«.
Nigel and Jordan look at each other and then at Chocolate Lab, who also stares back at them with wide attentive eyes.
"Kia ora, Ganoo. Welcome to New Zealand... officially," Nigel says, patting the dog on its head. "We are glad you're joining our family."
〸ćé©đéż äž«ăă©⸝ ćă©çȘé©đäž.
èź ćé©áŻđ é© ć±±ăđáȘđć°șïŸă©㇄ ïŸđđ㇄èź đá¶
é©⻏ăă©äž ăă©ć°ș ïŸă©〸ă©ć°șđ ă»ăá¶đ〸ćđć°ș.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
ReplyDeleteIt's such a engaging story. You were able to capture the essence of each character -- in a few lines of conversation -- which connects the readers to them.
#EstablishedShortStoryWriter
P.S. I could use a Ganoo! đ
: Thank you. I had so much fun writing it. :)
ReplyDelete