The Galactic Historians

Toby Ellerman had issues—but the kid could draw!

After the tragic suicide of his father almost ten years ago, Toby retreated into his amazing mind and the world of drawing. At that same time, he also began to hear voices that told him of exotic life on other planets and of the near visitation of extraterrestrial visitors. All this was reflected in his simple pen and pencil art which made many marvel for its breathtaking detail and maturity.

These fantastic ideas and the voices in his head earned him the diagnosis of “schizophrenia” from Dr. Rollins, his psychiatrist, and a host of psych meds.

To escape the shame of being labeled “mentally ill” and his incessant stuttering, Toby took long walks through the forest behind his home. Surrounded by the beauty of nature, he discovered, also helped diminish the voices he often heard in his head. And to compound his problems, he happened to be obese.

One day as Toby was filling his backpack with a great array of junk food, he heard his mother say, “Going on another journey through the enchanted forest, darling?” Hearing the sarcasm in her voice, Toby responded, “It is enchanted, m-m-m-mom. If you w-w-would just s-s-stop w-w-w-working like a slave f-f-f-for your company and take a w-w-walk yourself, you’d see.” “Really? Well, strolling leisurely through that jungle back there won’t pay the bills, now would it?” Toby just rolled his eyes and laughed, knowing that wasn’t the real reason but it was her dread fear of encountering bugs and snakes.

“H-h-h-have a good day at w-w-w-work, m-m-mom; see you t-tonight.” And out the back door he went. As the door closed, his mother went to the window and watched as her beloved son slowly disappeared into the woods. Her heart sank and a feeling of utter helplessness overwhelmed her. The memory came flooding back of the day she was in the psychiatrist’s office, and he uttered the words that changed her world—and Toby’s—forever. “Your son suffers from schizophrenia.” Between the suicide of his father and now mental illness, she wondered how Toby would navigate this world.

That was ten years ago, the same year her husband shot himself. Some nightmares, she found out, never end. Her son was now 29-years old, and no amount of counseling or medication seemed to silence the voices or his delusions.

Toby came to a small clearing and as he stepped out into the sunlight, and feeling the warm, welcoming rays on his face, smiled. He felt…normal. The stigma of that dastardly diagnosis had no effect on him out here. And because he was alone, he did not have to speak and deal with the embarrassment of trying to form words without stuttering. He also did not have to cope with the looks people gave him, or the mocking words. Sometimes he wished he could build a small home for himself made of the sweet-smelling trees that were all around. But that, he knew, was just a dream because in the real world he had to help his mom with her sanity issues.

It was getting late and Toby had to make his way home to let the dog out. As he walked, he suddenly stopped, as the air became saturated with a fragrance he had never smelled before. He closed his eyes and breathed in the aroma that made his body tingle. He then heard, “Greetings Toby Ellerman.” Startled, he opened his eyes and looked all around but saw no one. His heart was pounding now because of how clearly he had heard his name spoken. It was not in his head! There was just silence; only the faint sound of the wind could be heard rustling the fall leaves. Yet, he was convinced someone spoke his name. Feeling weird and a bit scared, Toby said out loud, “Y-y-yes, I’m T-t-toby.” Again, silence. But then, about ten feet away, right in front him, Toby starred at what looked as if a small figure was assembling itself out of thin air! Where at first, he could see the forest path, now it was blurred, and a translucent figure stood in the way. Slowly the thing became substantive and was no longer clear and see-through. When the transformation was complete, there stood a being that was not of this world!

Scared and confused, Toby ran as fast as his log-like legs could carry him. He made a wide arch around the alien figure and sped for home, looking back just once to make sure he wasn’t having a Clozaril delusion or to see if it was following him. Sure enough, there the thing stood—and it appeared to be waiving to him!

Panting heavily, Toby finally reached home and almost broke the door as he opened it fast and then slammed it shut. Their dog came running with his tail wagging, expecting to be let out. Toby looked down at the pooch and said, “Sorry, buddy, but you’re going to have to hold it a little bit until I’m sure the coast is clear.”

Toby stood by the door for hours watching and scanning the woods to see if the alien would emerge out of it, but never did. Finally, he heard the front door open as his mother returned from work. He rushed up to her and said, “M-m-mom, I need to t-t-t-talk to you.” “Sure, sweetie, but I had a long day; just need to kick my shoes off and put my head back and take a quick power nap, if that’s OK.” “N-n-n-no, mom, I’m s-s-sorry but I must t-t-t-talk with you r-r-r-right now!” Sensing the urgency in his voice, she sat down at the kitchen table and motioned to him to sit.

“M-m-m-mom, I know this is gonna s-s-s-sound like my schizophrenia t-t-talking but something happened today out in the w-w-w-woods. I’m n-n-n-not sure even how to explain this but…I t-t-t-think I met an alien, or s-s-s-something very out of the o-o-o-ordinary.” He was about to continue when she said, “Stop! Toby, darling, I know you believe there is life on other planets, and there just might be, but…” She stopped, and then reached over to hold his hands and looked deep into his eyes. “But Toby, there are no aliens in the woods back there. Get that thought out of your head right now, and please, please, please, do me and yourself a favor and don’t breathe a word of this to Dr. Rollins, or he will surely increase your medication. Understand?” Knowing he wasn’t going to convince her he had encountered an alien, if that was what it was, he responded, “Y-y-y-yes.”

The next day, Toby’s mom took notice that he was drawing in his art pad; no doubt his crazy space creatures, and it didn’t look as though he was going to take his usual morning walk through the woods. This was odd but maybe good, as she did not want to hear anymore talk of alien encounters. She finally said, “Staying home today to draw your comic book, sweetie?” Toby didn’t look up, just muttered, “M-m-m-maybe.” “OK. I wish I could stay home today but there’s a lot of work I need to do. Hey, how ‘bout pizza tonight? I’ll pick one up on the way home.” “S-s-s-sounds good, m-m-mom.” Her heart broke for her child. Holding back tears, she grabbed her purse and walked out to the garage to her car.

As Toby heard her car drive away, his gaze turned towards the back door and to the woods. He wanted to go and see if he could make contact with the alien again, but something compelled him to draw. As he thumbed through the pages, he stopped and stared in disbelief. There in pencil was almost an exact replica of the alien he saw in the woods!

And with that, Toby grabbed two nutrition bars, put them in his pocket and headed to the forest. When he reached the line of trees, his steps were slow and measured as he intentionally moved onto the path where he had first seen the strange translucent being that materialized into a solid figure. As he walked, his eyes peered this way and that, looking for the smallish creature. He finally arrived at the very spot he remembered seeing it, then stopped. Feeling fear welling up inside and the temptation to run back home, Toby riveted his sneakers into the ground and called out, “H-h-h-hello! It’s m-m-me, T-toby.” There was silence for what seemed like minutes. Then, he felt a brush of wind, and what followed was that incredible fragrance he smelled yesterday before the alien appeared. He closed his eyes, tilted his head back slightly to take in that heavenly aroma. And then there came that voice that called his name!

“Toby Ellerman.” 

His eyes shot open and seeing no one in front of him, slowly turned to look back and there it was! Toby’s jaw dropped. The alien, as best as he could figure, stood no more than 4-feet tall but had an immensely wide body. It wore no suit, as he understood space suits to endure interstellar travel, but a thick, clear film-like substance that enveloped the creature, except its pointy head. And the filmy suit seemed to be alive, as what could best be described as tiny waves rippled up and down and across the girth of the being. Its head was wide at the base where it met its body, then narrowed and formed a tip at the top. It had no hair but many small spikes. It seemed to have no mouth, at least where mouths tend to be on a head. But there were two slits to the left and right of its eyes, 3 inches in length, running vertically, not horizontally. And its eyes were large, dark greenish opaque pools. 

For minutes, the two did not speak. Then the alien slowly raised his two-fingered hand—and, like yesterday, waived! That simple gesture served to dispel all of Toby’s fears. He smiled and then slowly raised his hand and waived back.

“It is good to finally meet you, Toby Ellerman.” The voice of the being was coming from those two slits near its eyes. Toby thought, Guess that’s its mouth. But what does it mean to finally be meeting me? It prompted him to ask, “Are you one of the aliens in my drawings?” It responded, “I am.” Toby continued, “I have so many questions. But how were you able to communicate to me of your race in my head?” “Mental telepathy, far more advanced than what is known here. In terms of voices in your head, Toby Ellerman, let me assure you, you are not schizophrenic. You are saner than most people in your world. The voices you have been hearing for many years and the images you’ve seen in your mind are from us.

Toby said, “I see.” Then asked, What’s your name?” “You can call me, ‘Scribe’.” Toby looked puzzled and said, “Scribe? That can’t be your name. Don’t you have, well, like a cool alien name?” “Yes, I do but you have no English words or sounds to remotely pronounce it. So, I offer a name that reflects my profession.” Toby asked, “What is your profession?” Scribe answered, “Your planet has been my subject of study for twenty of your earth years, as well as your language. Our race has been tasked by the Great Creator to chronicle the history of the planets in your solar system. Myself and a group of other historians have been assigned to Earth. As our historians compile the massive history of your world, my role, as scribe, will be to write and arrange it onto a digital disc, which will then be stored in The Great Hall of the Milky Ways. In time, Earth and most other planets will have the technology to access all that is stored in the Hall.”

Toby’s mind was racing, hardly able to soak in what he was hearing. And then he had to ask, “But why did you choose me to communicate all this to?” Just then, he noticed his words were coming out clear and fluid! He blurted out, “Hey, I’m not stuttering!”

The alien responded, “No, and you never will again, Toby Ellerman. You see, the stuttering was a defective response to the trauma of both your father’s untimely death, and to the label of schizophrenia. Once you realized you were not, in fact, mentally ill, your brain immediately carved a new neural pathway that is serving to change how you see yourself. Old things are passing away now, as you will see, and stuttering was a part of that.” All Toby could say to that was, “Whoa. That is awesome! Wait till mom hears this.”

“There’s more, Toby Ellerman. To effectively fulfill our mission, we must come and live here on this world for a designated period of time. We have chosen you—and others—to prepare the people of Earth for our arrival.” Toby’s eyes almost popped out of his head, and asked, “You’re kidding, right?” “No. Humor, as you understand it, has no place for our species. We chose you because the Great Creator specializes in using the outcast and marginalized to do His work. For all that you have endured and suffered, you were a perfect choice. You were chosen, Toby Ellerman. You have been my special concentration.”

Shocked and reeling from what he was hearing, he asked, “How am I going to do this? I’m nobody; no one is going to listen to a fat kid who hears voices and is on psych meds.”

The alien scribe responded, “First, you must eliminate any language that refers to the old you, and replace it with words that affirm the new, and I will train you on that. Second, the people of your world may not listen to words proceeding out of your mouth, but they will most certainly heed the language of your art.”

That’s when the full light of revelation dawned on Toby. “You mean the comic book I’ve been working on for so long? If it is, I doubt my drawings are good enough for any comic book publisher.”

The scribe said, “Do not doubt, only believe. Another reason I am here is that I am going to empower you and accelerate your art to a level you never dreamed possible. Your artwork is exceptional as it is, but I will assist in the structure and story of our race and explain the reason for why we are soon coming to Earth.”

“When exactly is that?’, Toby inquired. “That is not for you to know at this time. For now, I must do something that will appear strange to you, Toby Ellerman. For my knowledge to be imparted to you, I must make physical contact, if you are willing.”

Without hesitation, Toby agreed.

The alien lumbered forward and when he stood directly in front of Toby, he raised his two arms and placed two fingers from his left hand on his forehead, and the two fingers from his right hand on his heart. Immediately, Toby’s mind exploded with images and sounds of worlds and galaxies and beings he remembered seeing in a thousand movies; plus, what the alien scribe had placed in his head over the years. And amazingly, while all the images were flashing around, there also came order and purpose. Somehow, he fully understood now what all the voices and images were about.

After the alien scribe completed his work with Toby, it simply said goodbye and vanished. Toby returned home and though he was never able to fully convince his mother of his second extraterrestrial encounter, she did take notice that she had a new son—and had no rational reason for it. His stuttering stopped completely; he stopped speaking of hearing voices, and in turn, went off all medications. Also, from that day forward, Toby became a prolific artist, drawing for hours and days on end, stopping only to eat and sleep a few hours. Yet, as soon as she returned home from work, he stopped drawing to spend time with her. But the most profound difference she observed was that Toby began to add a mesmerizing storyline to his art; something he never could do before. His comic book was coming to life!

Toby also began to attend every comic convention he could find, bringing his drawings and story with him. One day—a day she would never forget—when she came home from work, Toby greeted her with the biggest smile she had ever seen on his face. She asked, “So, what’s her name?” Toby laughed, then added, “Believe it or not, it’s better than a girl. Mom, Conquering Comics wants to hire me to create an entire line of comic books, which they believe will then become a bestselling science-fiction book!”

And that’s exactly what transpired. Toby’s comic series, which he entitled, “The Galactic Historians,” became an overnight rage. And Toby was invited to speak on TV shows, Podcasts, and became the most popular speaker at comic conventions. Wherever he was given a platform, Toby spoke with great conviction about the coming visitation of peaceful aliens from another galaxy, and their mission. And his message grew in popularity.

Five years later, Toby’s mother was at work when her cell phone rang. Seeing it was her son, she picked it up and said, “Is this the great Toby Ellerman, alien expert and bestselling author?”

“Mom, they’re here! Look out your window.”