SETI

So sad. Mom has passed away. Cancer.  I have to empty out the house so I can sell it. I hate going through so many memories, but I will have to.  I’m going to have an estate sale, so I must prepare for it. The saddest part is that in 1995, Dad just up and disappeared. Mom came home from shopping, and he was gone.  No note. No sign of being unhappy. He just left, and we never heard from him again. 

For the rest of her life my mother never got over that loss.  She had hoped the police would solve the problem and bring father home. When that failed, she hired a private detective. He worked the case for a whole year before apologizing and giving up. She would sometimes turn to me and say, “There is no real reason for your father to leave me. We were happy and very much in love. So, whatever happened to him must have been out of his control. You’ll see, someday we'll learn the truth.”  And that’s why I say it’s so sad. She died without learning that truth, that oh-so-important truth.

I may never learn the truth either.  I don’t even care anymore.   I’ll roll up my sleeves and get started. My girlfriend, Allison, is here to help, and I’m sure it will be easier with her here. Also, the people who will run the sale are here, and they are pricing the few items I’ve already stacked in the middle of the dining room.

Allison calls me to join her outside at the picnic table. “Look what I found in the bottom half of the china cabinet! It’s a photo album of when you were a kid!” I stroll over and sit down beside her. “I hope there aren’t any pictures of me as a baby naked on a bearskin rug.” I chuckle. Allison flips a page. “Ho, look! Here’s a picture of you when you were born! Look at all that hair. It’s even parted to the side! Your parents look so proud.”

“Yeah, we were a pretty happy family until I was twelve. That’s when my father left us. No explanation. He just up and vanished from the face of the earth, and I never saw him again.”

Allison knits her eyebrows together. “Oh wow, that must have been quite a shock for your mother. Did she remarry?” “No,” I sigh. “In Mom’s eyes, they never divorced, and she didn’t know if he had died, so they were still married as far as she was concerned. Now she’s gone, and I’m done waiting. Until I saw that picture, I forgot what he looked like.” 

Allison snuggles closer and kisses me on the cheek. “ Well, even if your mom brought you up alone, she did a great job! You’re the most wonderful, kind, sweetest man I’ve ever met.” I kiss her back. 

“Yeah, what you’re really thinking is how such a pretty baby grew up to be such an ugly old man!” She punches my arm. “Oh, you! And what’s with the old? You’re only thirty-four!” A voice from the back door calls my name. “Mr. Douglas? Is there anything in the attic you’d like to bring down for the estate sale?” “Oh, sure. We’ll be right there.”

                                                                    …

Allison tells me she has to run an errand but will be back Saturday for the sale. The attic is your typical attic, with plywood floor open beams and a sixty-watt bulb hanging down. And, of course, dusty as hell! It is interesting, though. There is stuff up here I haven’t seen for years. Some of it will end up in the Goodwill bin, like old, outdated clothes and shoes. I see a stand-up lamp and the old twenty-four-inch console TV. How the hell did Mom get that up here? I’ll never know. There are a ton of books, baby furniture, and old toys. I find things every family has, like a game of Monopoly, Clue, and even an Ouija board! I chuckle out loud when I see the game “The Amazing Kreskin.” Poor Mom, I remember her using a metal fob on a chain that was supposed to locate lost items and people.  She waved that thing over a map of the United States but it never pointed to a single place. 

I must say the estate salespeople work diligently to empty the attic. “Mr. Douglas? Are you going to sell this old computer?” I turn to see my father’s old Gateway. Mom must have stored it here for when he would come back. Then I have a bright idea! What if there is something on it that might show what happened to Dad?

“No. No, I will take that home, just put it in the box there."  I can’t believe Mom saved the box. It is spotted like a Holstein cow. I never understood that.

                                                           …

The week after the sale, I set up the Gateway and hook it to my cable and router. I push the on button and see and hear the old familiar opening screen to Windows 95. What a hoot! The next thing it does is to ask for the password. “Damn!” I had brought home a filing cabinet full of computer. “Maybe I can find the password in there,” I think. While rummaging through the bits and pieces of paper, I come across a notebook entitled “SETI.” I put it to one side to look at later. I even try it as the password, but it doesn’t work. I’m so frustrated that I’m star to talk to myself. “Most people use their pet’s name as a password, but we didn’t have a pet.” I rock back and forth in my squeaky computer chair.

Suddenly, I bolt straight up and snap my fingers. “Wait a minute. Dad once told me about a dog he had as a kid! What was its name? Butch? Buddy? Buster? Yeah, that was it, Buster!” I sit back down and furiously type in Buster. The screen goes black and comes back to the home page. It’s light blue with a bunch of file icons running down the left-hand side of the monitor. Right away, I notice one is labeled SETI. “SETI again? What the hell is this SETI shit?” I open the search on my iPhone and typed SETI. The search takes me to Wikipedia: >David Gedye conceived SETI (search for extraterrestrial intelligence) along with Craig Kasnoff. It was released as a download called SETI@home. This program uses idle computer power to search for radio sources over 67% of the observable sky.<  “I’ll be damned,” I whisper. Out of curiosity, I click the icon. A swirling and rotating graft appears. It displays information such as data analysis, data info, user info, a timeline, and a power graft, all against a background of a vast starfield. Leaning back in my computer chair, I raise my eyebrows as I watch the figures change and dance across the screen. Dad’s SETI notebook catches my eye, and I decide to see if any hints would explain his disappearance. 

It begins: “April 5^th, 1995. I downloaded a new program today called SETI@home. It will make me part of a vast network of home computers searching for alien life! Sounds exciting.”

“April 17^th It has been a while, and to tell the truth, I find it boring. It’s just a bunch of numbers that don’t seem very impressive. I’ll give it a little bit longer.”

“May 6^th. I received a message today on SETI! It’s not the type of signal the scientists said they were looking for, but a message addressed to ME! It reads, >Greetings Mr. Douglas. We have received your signal. Will make adjustments. Stand by.<

I set down the journal and take a sip of coffee. "What the heck is Dad talking about? I pickup the journal and continue to read.

“Oh, my god!  I don’t know if this is a joke or what! It’s kind of scary, though. I just might delete the program, but I’ll think about it first. Oh, wait! Here comes another message! 

>Mr. Douglas. We have finished our adjustments and are ready to beam you over< 

Beam me over?! No wait! I’m going to try to message them back. I am typing as fast as I can! Who are you? How did you discover my signal? What do you want with me? The monitor has gone fuzzy and full of snow. An image is taking place. Oh my god! It is hideous! Its head is shaped like an upside-down teardrop. Its skin is white with blueish-purple splotches. It is hairless and has eyes shaped like those of a cat. I assume those two holes are nostrils, and there are thin lips with two pointed teeth in the center. I can hear his thoughts clearly in my head. >We are humanoids like you, Mr. Douglas. We have been transmitting radio waves for some time to see if other humanoids live in the galaxies. We discovered your signal and followed it back to its origin, which is you. We want to learn about your species, how you reproduce, what type of government you live under, and if you have spiritual beliefs. These things and many more. That’s why we must transport you to where we are so we can converse and learn. Please make yourself ready<

I push the off button. Nothing is happening.

>You can not turn off your device, Mr. Douglas. We are in control.< 

The room is filled with a bright light!

That’s the last entry in the notebook. I am trembling from head to toe. I begin crying genuine tears of sadness for my poor father. How terribly frightened he must have been. Mom was right. He didn’t desert us. He was taken from us. Taken to God knows where.

The monitor screen changes as I wipe away the tears with the cuffs of my sleeves. Words appear in the center, “Greetings, Mr. Douglas.” I push away from the computer so hard that I knock myself over. My eyes dart wildly about the room until I see my baseball bat behind the door. I grab it, and smash the monitor to piecess and pull the plug on the computer.

Sitting among the shattered pieces on the floor, I wonder if I should send my father’s journal to the SETI headquarters at the University of California in Berkeley. I fear that when the program ended in 2020, the journal will be considered a hoax. But still, I'm willing to take the chance because They are out there!