THE HANDSHAKE

Words: 1,300

By

Lilly Finch

Alien drop-downs occurred daily, and people no longer made a fuss about them. Each alien dropped for a reason, but people never knew why until after the alien interacted with that person. The aliens stood tall, with limbs resembling hairy spiders and arms bent in a specific way, enabling them to move at their chosen speed. Nobody knew why speed was critical until they saw the aliens in action. When they saw the aliens move quickly, it always meant they were hungry and stalking prey. But if they moved slowly, they wanted to mingle and get to know something or someone from the community. The reason was not always apparent. 

Though small, Meldonville’s population had many scholars and a main street full of thrift stores filled with antiquities from the past. Wilbur Smith entered the thrift shop and gasped. He had never been so close to an alien in such close quarters. Despite Wilbur knowing all about the acceptance agreements and peace treaties, he still feared aliens. 

Alien 8VT7 sensed his fear and moved toward him to quell it. But this made Wilbur more nervous and tense because he was cornered. He threw his hands in the air and his body in an attempt to bolt, knocking over the alien as he kept on running. When he reached the door, he murmured, "Sorry,” and left.

Fred jumped to his feet. "Wilbur, what the hell? You know better than that about how to treat a guest.” He shook his head at Wilbur as he left the store. He turned to the alien. “Oh, my goodness. Are you okay, Alien 8VT7?

“Wragfti nanor polaki terla! Loe mesxio djing.”

“Oh, good. I’m glad you’re not hurt then.” 

It looked at artifacts and memorabilia and didn’t see anything it liked. 

These things bridged gaps for people who did not appreciate what had gone before and what was to come. On the day Alien 8VT7 came into town, he landed on Main Street in front of the clock. It had struck twelve moments before and showed a minute after noon. Nobody on the street thought much of what Alien 8VT7 might be doing there just after noon on a Saturday, except for Fred Mangus. 

Fred owned the closest thrift store that carried everything one could think of from the past. In the year 4028, who knew why people allowed thrift stores anymore? This is why many things that could be valuable lie in front of their eyes, but they don’t see them for what they are. It was the choice Alien 8VT7 made next that had everyone talking. He opened the door to the local thrift store and went inside. 

“Xiwang Ji Mo, Fred Telra su irfsa?” 

“Alien 8VT7, yeah, you could say that. Business has been a bit slow since the last time someone came in. Why? What do you need?”

“Rewdu kilsfro Xchian graph.” 

“Fine then. Take your time. I’ll be here if you see something you need to know more about.” 

The alien nodded its head and moved onward. It picked up a magazine and wondered why the book was so heavy with many pictures and articles. “Why would anyone buy such a thing? It thought. But as it moved on, it saw many magazines. Many have women on the cover and inside without clothing or in bikinis. There were many others, but it didn’t leaf through them. The women's magazines were enough for it. 

It moved on to the labelled electronics section. This perplexed it: Why would someone need a cord like that? It plugs into what? Why do they need it to plug into anything at all? What was the power source? Why would anyone buy such a thing and then discard it here? And why was Fred keeping it? It picked up a transistor radio, and it began to play. The alien forgot that its electricity charge would be enough to handle the charge needed by the radio. It heard static and turned the knob until it listened to some noise that sounded like junk to it. It put it back down. 

The next move was into the bag section. It looked at the bags but had no idea what they'd been used for. Of course, the alien had no idea how people got around in 2024. No remnant cars, boats, planes, trains, buses, or anything resembling travel by 2024 standards. It shrugged its shoulders and moved on to the Encyclopedia section. 

There, it looked through the books and saw transportation modes. Now, the explanation for the bags was clear. People long ago put their clothes and items they needed on a trip inside them. Inside the encyclopedia, it saw items related to aliens, but they didn’t look anywhere near what it looked like. It laughed. Before long, it had looked through many encyclopedias and knew a lot more information about the history of the development of the people who were now in 4028. 

“Mostly kids doing antiquities or history projects come here to get stuff. Other times, it’s adults throwing a theme party,” Fred offered to break the silence.  

“Grwil malo viw dsloe?” 

“Oh, yeah, you betcha, there’s so many a year.” 

“Jhoa kwni zi’w mowsow quaig wolvepol?” 

“No, too many times people bought stuff and then tried to return it. Of course, I buy it back and then resell it for the next people who come in to buy stuff.” 

“Yhru squop lonj hulk frei nor taisd.” 

“It keeps me in business, and yeah, it’s tough, but that’s how it goes here in Meldonville.”  

It raised its head at the notion of life here in Meldonville. What a terrible existence! It thought. Why would anyone live here when they could choose to live in space? Space offers so many different experiences and delights for a person. Aliens and persons live together, and some mate. It thought about the Hragutabi tribe and the first half-alien, half-human baby. 

It stumbled through a few more items: a washboard, a massage chair, and a baseball mitt. It kept on looking but never found what it looked for. Fred watched with amazement as the alien picked up items, turned them around in its legs, and put them back down. 

He said nothing more to the alien and let him browse. It finally raised its head and turned to face the door. Fred understood that he wouldn’t make a sale today from Alien 8VT7. Fred smiled and put his hand out to shake one of the spider-like legs. The alien looked at the hand and stopped in front of where it lay outstretched in the air. Fred thought, What is wrong with this alien? It doesn’t know this is a friendly human gesture for hello or goodbye.

It tilted its head, nodded its chin, and moved around the hand. It opened the door and stepped out onto the street. 

When Alien 8VT7 entered the thrift store, the Main Street clock read 12:01, but now it reads 12:01. It sees a woman walk past him and wonders if she looks like the women in the magazines it had looked at in the store. It reaches out to touch her, and she screams. She runs away and turns to look back at Fred.

There was a store behind him, but it wasn’t a thrift store anymore, and Fred wasn’t there. Fred walked past the alien and bumped it by accident/purpose. It wasn’t sure. But Fred put out his hand to apologize, and this time, the alien shook it without hesitation. The store changed back into the thrift store, and Fred waved at it from where he sat. 

Alien 8VT7 stood on the street in town. It landed on Main Street in front of the clock.