Dreaming?

He was seven foot tall and three feet wide, his long spiked hair was a shocking neon blue that seemed to give off a light all its own, his muscles rippled like disturbed water when he moved across the room, and most shockingly of all his skin was orange. Not sickly orange, or over-tanned, but a deep golden orange that made his black pupil-less eyes really stand out.

Devon had no idea who or even what he was but the massive mountain of a being had crawled, with lots of moaning and grumbling, out from underneath the desk in his room. He could understand why the thing had had trouble getting out from underneath there as it was covered in dirty clothes, old trash, and various things Devon had piled up there over the summer. What he was at a loss as to explain was exactly where it had come from?

There was nothing under his desk but a pile of junk and the wall between his room and the kitchen. Surely, he would have heard the thing breaking through the wall before it suddenly came bursting out of the pile knocking things everywhere.

Devon had nearly cried out when he saw the top of its head and torso coming out from beneath the desk but he had been so shocked that his voice had fled. By the time it came back he was more interested in finding out what was going on than he was in drawing anyones' attention to it.

"Excuse me?" He had called out when the thing had finally stood up.

It was then that it had turned those all-black eyes on him, there was no white to them. Now Devon had been raised to believe that things with all-black eyes were inherently evil but in truth, he had not really believed this. Snakes had black eyes and not all of them were evil, some dogs' eyes were all black, and once or twice he was certain he had met someone with either very little to no white in their eyes. So he was not scared of the eyes as much as the size and unexpectedness of his visitor.

Devon sat on his pillows with his knees pulled up into his chest. The thing studied him and Devon knew just what he would see. A rail-thin, teenage boy, with no muscles what-so-ever, a head full of wild unkempt red hair, some scraggly whiskers that even his mother refused to call a mustache or beard, and fear in his jade green eyes.

Slowly, the monstrous being settled himself down onto the floor with his massive muscle bulged legs crossed in front of him. He cocked his head to one side and stared curiously at Devon. Since he did not seem on the verge of answering him Devon took the opportunity to study the big guy.

He was definitely a guy, Devon thought. For starters, his bare orange chest had huge pectoral muscles, his neck was thicker than both of Devons' arms put together, and the clothe he wore for shorts did very little to hide what he had down there.

"Where did you come from?" Devon tried again.

"Harumph," the thing started smacking the side of his ear and shaking his head violently between each blow.

"What are you doing?" Devon nearly shouted as he jumped up from the bed grabbing the things hand to stop the self-assault.

He immediately froze when the thing jerked his hand free turning to glare at him. Devon took a step back toward his bed unsure if he should call out for help, run, or stand his ground. He certainly did not feel like doing the last one.

"Harumph," the thing repeated as it stared at him like he was stupid. "Ricta, neeso, sumph, toto."

Devon shook his head not understanding a single word he had heard. Obviously, this guy spoke a very foreign language, it did not even sound human.

"Devon," he said pointing at his own chest, "Devon." He waited but the thing did not seem to understand. "I am Devon." He spoke again as he sat on the edge of his bed. He was satisfied, for the time being, that the thing was not there to hurt him.

A moment later, the big guy held up a black nailed orange hand with sausage-like fingers as if to say hold on. He shoved a fat finger into his ear and began wiggling it around harshly as he grimaced. Finally, he pulled his finger out along with a tiny blue box looking thing that fit perfectly on the end of his index finger.

"Harumph," he spoke directly to it.

Devon gasped as the thing jerked at the sound. "Harumph," he repeated as he thumped it with his thumb. "Harumph, harumph, harumph," he thumped it each time he said the word. "Initiate!" He suddenly growled at the thing.

"Initiate?" Devon repeated finally hearing a word he understood.

"Oh good," the man smiled showing a big row of razor-sharp teeth as he popped the device back into his ear, "I was afraid it was never going to start working again. That thing has been malfunctioning ever since I got stuck in that Martian sand storm."

"Martian sand storm?" Devon asked sure he had heard wrong.

"Where am I?" The big guy demanded looking around the room as he spoke. "This is not Command Central!" He suddenly sprang to his feet, the floor vibrated from his unexpected weight shift. He took a threatening step toward Devon. "Where am I?"

"In my bedroom," Devon stammered his fear rising to the surface as quickly as it had begun to fade.

"Bedroom? What planet, boy?" He purposefully softened his features as he looked on Devons' fear-filled face.

"E-e-earth," he managed to reply with some effort.

"Earth, the mud planet? Are you an ape descendant? My how you've progressed. We had no idea." He seemed to consider this for a moment before continuing. "Tell me, ape descendant. Do your people still have tails?" He leaned over trying to see behind Devon.

"No!" Devon yelped not very happy with being compared to an ape.

"Too bad," the orange man smiled wistfully, "a tail would be useful in battle."

"We didn't come from apes!" Devon explained excitedly. "God created us."

"God?" He looked quizzically at the boy.

"Yeah," Devon insisted, "the Creator of everything."

"Ah, yes," he shook his head agreeably, "we have run across many species who believe in a Higher Being."

"Well God is real," Devon nearly yelled.

"Calm yourself, ape descendant," he placed a calming hand heavily on Devons' shoulder, "we do not judge your belief system. Now tell me," he paused turning to look out the window.

"Do your people have technology?"

"What kind of technology?" Devon demanded to know not very happy to have a guest who seemed intent on insulting him.

"Transporters? Gateways? Travel devices?"

Devon shrugged after each suggestion. "I don't know. I'm just a kid."

"You're a child? How remarkable? Is that why you are so small?"

Devon puffed up his chest. "I'm not small. My mom says I am big for my age."

"Well then, what can you tell me? Is there someone here, perhaps this mom, who can answer my questions?"

"Nah, she's at work," Devon slapped his hand to his mouth afraid he had just given away the fact that he was home alone to a strange alien that might or might not be friendly.

"I see, well then I shall have no choice but to open a gateway here," he studied the space under the desk then shook his head no.

"I shall need a larger space for the gateway, the way I came is rather cramped."

"What are you talking about?" Devon demanded curiously.

"A gateway, boy," we travel through the galaxies by gateways. My gateway generator was supposed to transport me back to Command Central. Instead, it deposited me here. I can only assume it has malfunctioned like the translator."

"Because of Martian sand?"

"That is correct, do you doubt me?" He seemed insulted by the very notion of someone not believing his every word.

"No," Devon replied nervously, "it's just no one has ever been to Mars that I know of."

"Are your people still so primitive that they can not leave their own planet?"

"We've been to the moon," Devon offered as proof that humans were not primitives.

"Mere child's play," he watched a car roll slowly down the street through the window, "it seems you will be one of the planets caught unaware when the Galactic War reaches you. Too bad I like the blue skies."

"What's that suppose to mean?" Devon asked afraid of what the answer might be.

"Nothing for you to worry about child." But he could sense Devon was still concerned. "It will not reach your planet in your lifetime. Perhaps you will evolve enough before it arrives."

"Before what arrives?" Devon was completely lost in this conversation.

"Never mind, take me to a private place where I can open the gateway be free of this planet. I have a war to fight." He glared at Devon as the boy continued to sit on the bed unmoving. "Now!" He barked making Devon jump to his feet.

"Uh, uh, uh, no one is home so you can use the living room, I guess." He pointed toward the hallway. "Down there."

"Good, then I shall leave this place." He stormed past Devon out into the hallway then stopped. "Come, ape descendant, show me this living room so I may be gone."

Devon led the way to the living room where he sat stiffly on the edge of the couch unsure of what he was supposed to do next.

As he sat there the big orange man pulled a second, slightly larger box out of a small pocket on the belt that held up his loincloth. It had several black buttons on two of its sides and a blank screen on a third. This screen the alien pointed at the wall, he began pressing several of the buttons at once. A grey beam of light expanded out from the center of the screen forming a large rectangle on the wall about the shape of a doorway, only large enough for the big guy to get through.

Devon stared his jaw falling slightly open as the alien stepped into the opening of light that the little box had created. "Farewell, ape descendant, perhaps we shall meet again. Though it is doubtful."

As he vanished into the opening Devon felt his legs moving of their own accord. He sprang from the couch running towards the wall as quickly as he could. Just as he reached the opening it slammed shut so that he face-planted into the wall. He fell onto his backside then toppled over as the world went dark.

Later that day he awoke to find himself sprawled out on his bed. His desk was as messy as ever, his room looked as it always had, and everything seemed to be exactly as it should be.

He jumped up from his bed falling to his knees before the desk. He started yanking the junk piled underneath it out of the way until he could see the bare wall behind. There was nothing, no hole, no gateway, nothing. He rushed into the living room only to find more of the same. Everything was exactly what and where it should have been. He shook his head frustrated as he headed for the kitchen and a snack.

"Man," he spoke aloud to himself, "that was one strange dream."

As he stood by the counter piling various lunch meats and cheeses onto two thick slices of homemade bread there was a sudden loud banging on the front door. He jumped startled by the eruption of sound into the quiet house.

Before he could get to the door it swung open on its own as three men in black suits, black facemasks, carrying large black guns came swarming into the living room. Devon yelled in fright as he dove behind the kitchen wall.

The fourth man, in a black suit and shades, came walking calmly into the room once the other three had secured it. "You can come out now Devon." He called into the kitchen.

Seeing no other choice Devon timidly stepped around the wall into the living room. He tried to speak but his mouth was full of sandwich and had just gone too dry to swallow. Seeing his obvious discomfort the unknown man in charge walked patiently into the kitchen to fetch a glass of water from the sink. As he did this one of the other men slung his gun over his shoulder by the strap and began scanning the living room walls with what looked like a cell phone.

"Here," the man shoved the water into Devons' hand, "drink this so we can talk."

Devon did as he was told forcing the lump of food down his throat with the liquid.

"Better?" The man asked as a way of starting the conversation.

"Yes," Devon answered honestly, "what do you want?"

"Good, right to the point. I like that." He sat himself down at the kitchen table motioning for Devon to take the chair opposite him. "Join me, won't you?"

Slowly Devon made his way to the chair never taking his terrified eyes off the man in black as he did so.

"Now," the man continued once Devon was seated, "tell me what the Halkorian told you?'

"Halkorian?" Devon asked truly confused by the whole situation.

"Yeah, big guy, orange skin. Ring any bells?"

Devon shook his head no, unable to comprehend how this man knew about his dream.

"Look, kid, we really don't have time for games here. I need to know what he told you and where he built the gateway. " He leaned closer to Devon with each word as if he wanted to make sure Devon understood how important his words really were.

"Gateway? I don't understand. How do you know about my dream?"

"It was no dream son. This is very important, now tell me what he told you."

"Uh, that he was here by accident? I think."

"You think? Is that what he said or not?" The man stood up so he could stare intimidatingly down at Devon.

"Something about Command Central and a Martian sandstorm messing up his gateway. He wasn't here long."

"They never are kid," the man leaned back to look into the other room. "Anything in there?" He called out.

"It was definitely Calbor, his DNA is all over the bedroom," a voice called back.

"Some in the living room too," a second voice answered.

"I think he was alone," the third voice replied.

"Hm, he's not prone to mistakes," the man turned back to Devon. "Show me where he built the gateway."

Devon pointed to the living room wall, barely visible from the kitchen table. "Right there, next to the entertainment center."

"Check it out, boys. Is it still useable?" The three men in black facemasks swarmed around the spot scanning with their cell phone-like devices.

"Yeah, I think I can re-open it," one of them called out.

"Do it," the man in charge told them. He turned back to Devon.

"Sorry kid, but it's time for us to go."

In the living room, one of the men pointed his cell phone device at the wall where Calbor had vanished. A second later a grey beam shot out reforming the same rectangle that had formed before. One by one the men stepped quickly into the rectangle vanishing just as the giant orange man had.

"Hey," Devon called out when only the boss man was left, "what's going on?" He asked before he lost his only chance to ask.

The man smiled mysteriously at him and shrugged. "Nothing's going on here," he replied as he too vanished into the wall.

Devon stared at the perfectly normal wall then down at his perfectly normal sandwich. He ran his fingers along the perfectly normal kitchen table then rose to close the living room door. He could think of nothing else to do at that moment. Something rather strange had happened but he did not believe anyone would ever believe him if he told them.

"Calbor?" He spoke the name aloud to himself as he sat on the living room sofa and took a bite of his sandwich. He was still sitting there, in the dark, by the time his mother arrived home from work.

"Oh," she had jumped when she turned the light on and found him sitting there still holding his half-eaten sandwich, "what are you doing sitting here in the dark Devon? I thought you had gone out or something?"

"No," he said dully as he looked over at her.

"Well, what are you doing?" She asked slightly concerned by his behavior.

"Nothing," he told her honestly, "just sitting here doing nothing?"

"Is something wrong honey?" She asked him as she slid onto the couch next to him.

He stared at the blank spot on the wall where the two gateways had been opened up, he started to say something then thought how ludicrous it would sound.

"No," he finally decided, "I had just dozed off is all."

"Oh, okay, well," she stood to remove her ladies half-coat jacket, "It looks like your sandwich has gotten warm while you were asleep. Why don't you order a pizza while I take a shower? There's some cash in my purse or you can use the card. I want some cheesy sticks and you can order whatever else you want."

"Sure," Devon nodded as he pulled out his cell phone to call the pizza place. His mom took the warm, limp sandwich out of his hand as she headed for the kitchen trash. "I wish you would either make smaller sandwiches or eat the ones you make. This was a waste."

"Sorry mom," Devon replied.

She went on to the bathroom and her long-awaited nightly shower.

Later that night as he lay in his bed Devon decided that it had all been a dream that he was better off forgetting.