A quiet suburban community

My grandfather was understandably doubtful. I could see doubt slowly creeping into his pupils, with the hardness of his generation, like a curtain falling straight from his thick, unkempt eyebrows.

But we should go back to the start.

It was a warm September morning. Sunday, to be precise. Just 10 minutes earlier, I arrived back at the house in a panic I had never felt before, and which I suspected could be fatal in certain circumstances.

I was still clutching my shirt and breathing heavily when my grandpa walked in from the back garden and saw me for the first time that day.

“Well, good morning to you, Lilly! Where in tarnation have you been? I have been looking for you all morning, and I could not imagine what had become of you. Disappearing without a word like this is not like you at all…”

He would certainly have kept going like this for a good long while if I didn’t interrupt.

For a second, his fussy, never-ending tirades, usually considered bad luck, especially this early in the day, almost provoked me to tears. I felt hysteria rising in my throat like vomit, choking me and blurring my vision. At that second, it felt safe and familiar, a feeling I would not have had if I hadn't been running for my life just moments ago.

I could only stare at my grandfather, hoping he would give me back a sense of normalcy. I was almost ready to give him a hug. Then reality dropped on me when I remembered that we never hugged. If I were to confide in him about the situation, it would be best not to unnerve him further by changing habits.

As the adrenaline slowly decreased in my body, I suddenly felt tired and thirsty. I sat down in a chair by the kitchen table and looked at him with a serious expression. Or so I hoped it was.

“Sorry. I was out for a morning walk. Wanted to see the sunrise.”

His gaze softened as he understood my state, or what he took for my state, being a result of a long, arduous walk.

“Alright, chipmunk. Just leave a note next time. You know I am normally up early.”

I was now staring at the middle of the kitchen table, wondering how to even get started telling him where I had actually been. I threw him a side-eye, imploring him to sit down. The subliminal messages seemed to have worked because he grabbed his coffee cup, previously on one of the counters, and plopped down in the chair opposite me.

“I also went to visit Aunt Pearl.”

I just blurted it out. I didn’t even think about it before it slipped out. So much for not giving in to intrusive thoughts.

But he didn’t understand. How would he? He looked out the window, coffee cup close to his mouth but not drinking from it. He was seemingly lost in thought. I guess old people do that. For a moment, it was quiet yet full of the unbearable buzzing of insects outside. It felt like a summer day, yet it was nearing autumn. It was concerning.

“What a beautiful Sunday we have. Truly blissful, don’t you think?”

The sunlight hit half of his face, and he looked so peaceful for a second, I didn’t want to continue. I didn’t want to upset his happy, blissful world by showing him a side of life that is dark and full of death. But shielding him wouldn’t do any good.

While I was searching for the right words again, he turned his face back to me.

“And? What did you do at Aunt Pearl’s place?”

I suddenly got a surge of willpower and energy and slammed my palms on the table.

“Well, that is exactly it! I will tell you what I did there. I saw Aunt Pearl. And she…she was different. I…think she tried to kill me. She was not herself. She was…is...a lizard person.”

I said it. Not my proudest moment. I wanted to be able to not believe my own words. My grandfather certainly didn’t. He stared at me with his mouth agape, his entire person frozen in time and space. He looked almost like his own wax figure. It could have been comical, but I was not in the mood to laugh.

He almost smashed his cup down when he started speaking. It was more yelling anyway.

“This is why I don’t think kids should have access to the internet and social media. You are getting dumber by the day! Is that what you are spending your free time on instead of doing something useful and productive with your life? Or is this the result of that awful pre-processed food that I see you eating every day? Is it because of these protein bars that you are now hallucinating?”

I was, of course, expecting this. But it still hurt. In the movies, you always imagine that somehow, your loved ones would believe you simply through the power of love. On the other hand, people are skeptical, understandably, about lizard people within our communities.

Not completely refuted to exist, these creatures live unverified and undisturbed in our society, as if waiting for something. Or someone…

Aunt Pearl lived down the street from my grandfather, in a peaceful suburban community. Everyone knows everyone and bakes cordial welcome pies for new neighbors. I was raised by my grandfather, and whenever he would want me out of the house, tired of my teenage antics, he would send me over to Aunt Pearl. I was 10 when I first started noticing something about her. Aunt Pearl loved to sunbathe, but she would never truly get tanned. Her skin would only ever so faintly glisten in a faint shade of green. I always thought it was just the light being funny, but I never observed this on anyone else.

She wouldn’t really stand out in a crowded room. You would probably have a hard time picking her out in a family gathering, as she would either be standing with the same glass of a mocktail in her hand really close to a window for the entirety of her visit, her naturally grey complexion blending in quite well with most house walls. She was, by all means, a very ordinary woman. But when she started stretching out on her favorite tanning bed in the garden, you would be surprised how flexible she appeared. During summers, she would sometimes go rock climbing and disappear for whole weekends alone.

She always gave me the vibes of someone who is always on alert. Her uncanny hearing confirmed it. I remember one time when the family had thrown a big barbecue party on the street, and all the neighbors were invited. Some lady, then newly moved in, started making remarks about Aunt Pearl and how her presence seemed to unnerve her every time they met. Then she started making snide remarks about my aunt’s looks.

I got away from the discussion and went back to the house to get some refreshments for the other guests. That’s when I saw my aunt inside the house, staring out the window straight at the still gossiping woman, clenching her greyish fists and furiously licking her lips with her tongue.

I stared at her in bewilderment, and she suddenly realized I was standing beside her. She released her tense fists and looked at me with a smile too wide to be anything but fake.

“It is okay, Lilly. I just don’t like it when people talk about others behind their backs. I don’t think such people should be invited to have fun with others.”

As with most things, her wish about this was granted, and the gossiping woman became shunned by the family and soon by the rest of the community.

I realized only a day after that there was no way she could have heard that conversation in real time from where she was standing.

I decided to start watching Aunt Pearl more carefully from that day on.

And as if she could read my mind, she was ever so sly and hard to catch, always finding ways to escape my attempts to catch her being…well, strange.

This went on for a while. I wasn’t sure where to look, so I turned to the place where many people these days seek genuine medical advice—the Internet.

I started reading strange forums where people would share stories of their relatives or acquaintances acting strangely. I was looking for some patterns, some connection that would emerge from the depths of the worst and the best of human knowledge.

That is when I came across the term “lizard people.” And something clicked.

First, it was thrown around as a joke. Here and there, people would share images of Mark Z*******, looking deadly pale, with a fully emotionless face and bulging eyes. I could see him being from a different planet. But he might as well have been someone rich and far removed from the daily struggles of ordinary people. Rich people always strike me as eccentric. Not sure if they became rich because they were eccentric, or they became eccentric after having become rich.

My aunt was really neither. She was keeping a low profile. But I knew better. My patience was running out, and my curiosity got the best of me. I decided to try and stake out by my aunt’s house, undetected, and observe her for a full day without her knowing.

Genius.

So this morning, I woke up well before sunrise. I grabbed my backpack from the foot of my bed, threw my phone, a bottle of water, and my sunglasses in there, and sneakily made my way downstairs through the kitchen and out the door. I listened for a few moments to ascertain that my grandfather’s snoring still could be heard loud and clear.

Getting to Aunt Pearl’s house was a piece

 of cake. The hard part came after. Where could I hide? If she is, indeed, a lizard person, then I have very low chances of going undetected. I knew of a loose plank in her fence to the backyard, where I was able to just about squeeze myself through, and found myself in the garden just a few minutes before sunrise. I would have to be quick. Thankfully, my aunt loved gardening, and the whole thing would be blossoming and growing wildly during the warm summer months. I found a comfortable-looking bush and placed myself behind it in a way that would hopefully cover me well enough. I got my phone out and started recording the entrance, where I was expecting my aunt to appear as soon as the sun was out.

I was, of course, right. At around 5:51 AM, the door slammed open, and Aunt Pearl, gloriously naked, placed herself on her tanning bed as soon as the first rays of light started shining on it. Her skin was a sickly combination of grey and green, something one might see in a zombie movie. Her hair was tangled and thinning; I never realized how little hair she actually had, with her often using headbands and scarves.

She spread out and started enjoying her day. For a second, I did envy her. So ignorant. So unbothered.

In her left hand, she had a black jar, not yet opened. It was hard for me to see what was in it, so I squinted to try and spot it better.

However, the mystery soon dissolved. Aunt Pearl opened the jar with a swift, practiced hand movement, and suddenly a loud buzzing filled the air as the black cloud from the jar started emptying into the garden space.

Flies! Dozens of flies!

My sight clouded for a moment from the sickness I felt in my throat. It did not get better when I noticed my aunt stretching herself out and suddenly lashing out with her…

Tongue?

A tongue, long, pink, and unforgiving, started going after the buzzing cloud, still looking confused after their confinement and sudden freedom.

I swallowed hard to suppress a mortified yell, watching my aunt still stretching on the tanning bed and taking one fly after another with impressive speed and calm. As if she had done this a thousand times.

I still had the good sense to keep my phone upright while filming, but I did not notice one of the flies getting dangerously close to my hideout place. I was too fascinated by what I saw.

Suddenly, I heard the wet sound of the lizard tongue smacking very close to my head, and I got so surprised that I cried out, only to instantly shut myself up with my hands.

Too late.

The buzzing died down by now, and all I heard was the faint rustling of some leaves on the trees, then quiet.

I didn’t want to look out from my hideout. I really didn’t have to.

Suddenly my aunt’s head appeared above me. Her eyes bulged and darted in all directions, then both started staring at me with a wildness I had never seen in them.

I cried out again and before I realized it, I grabbed my backpack, threw it at her, then started scrambling out of the bush and out the backyard from where I came.

I felt her grabbing my shoulder, but I shook her off and kicked back without looking. My heart was pounding as I held onto my phone for dear life and simultaneously ran as fast as I could back on the street and back home. To safety.

I looked up at my grandfather now, just having finished telling the gist of what happened.

“You have to believe me. She’s not normal. We have to tell someone!”

“Lilly, you are talking nonsense. You have to calm down. Should I get you some tea?”

“Grandpa, I even have a recording of her!”

I just remembered the phone still in my hand, still recording, so I finally pressed STOP and triumphantly started playing the recording for him, almost shoving the camera in his face.

He continued looking at me calmly, as if he didn’t hear what I just told him, fully ignoring the obscenity playing out in front of him.

“Is this the only recording you have?”

“Yes. So far. Maybe I should try and get more. But I don’t know if it’s possible…Grandpa, she saw me! She was going to come after me! What are we going to do now?!”

“First, give me your phone.”

As in a daze, I handed my phone to my grandfather, who then proceeded to smash it on the ground and step on it multiple times.

“What the hell are you doing? Stop that!”

I jumped up from my chair, shouting angrily.

“It is okay, Lilly. It is going to be alright. I told her we should tell you sooner or later. About the whole situation.”

“What situation? What are you talking about?”

Now it was Grandpa’s turn to stand up. He started rubbing his face. I suddenly started seeing his complexion change. Ever so slightly. But the grey-green complexion started peering through. His eyes bulging, his tongue, long and sharp, sticking out of the corner of his mouth. Then I saw the tail.

I was beginning to back away from him, holding back tears.

“I can’t believe it. It can’t be true! Are you also…a lizard person?” My face twisted at the thought, and I wanted to be cruel. I wanted to hurt these people who lied to me all this time.

“Lilly, we all are lizard people. This place, this community… We never told you because we wanted to shield you from the truth.”

My back hit the wall, and I began sliding down to the floor while all kinds of thoughts whirled around in my head.

Tears were choking me.

“What… what is the truth?”

“You are adopted.”