Uncle Zara

Camilia is busy mixing batter for a cake when she hears her husband mutter, “What the devil is he telling that kid now?”

“Did you say something?” his wife asks, her wooden spoon clacking against the porcelain bowl.

“It’s your, Uncle Zara. He’s always telling Carlo crazy shit.”

Camilia shakes her head, “Oh, Elio! Uncle Zara likes to make up fantastic stories for Carlo. Carlo is twelve! He knows the difference between fantasy and the truth."

Elio continues to peer into the other room. He frowns, “I still don’t like it. It’s strange.”

Uncle Zara, whose full name is Roberto Zara, comes to visit his niece and her husband twice a month and to have fun with his great-nephew Carlo.But today is special. Today is Uncle Zara’s seventy-fifth birthday. That’s why Camili is baking the cake. It’s a classic Italian lemon cake that melts in your mouth, and Uncle Zara loves it. He looks at Camilia and kisses the tips of his fingers with a loud smack.“Perfetto!”

It’s mid-September, and the afternoons are still pleasant in New England.Elio will be leaving soon to start his shift as supervisor at the localfabric plant. Camilia tells Uncle Zara to take Carlo outside and sit beneath their large maple tree while she finishes cleaning up.

Uncle Zara waddles over to the reclining lawn chair and knocks it back a notch. He closes his eyes and sighs. Carlo sits at the picnic table beneath the large maple, already the hues are turning yellow and red. He leans back on his elbows and looks straight up into the branches that are swaying in the gentle breeze. The moving leaves diffuse the sunlight and dapple everything below them. Mesmerized by the spectacle, Carlo asks, “Uncle Zara, what’s it like where you’re from?” Zara cracks open an eye beneath a thick, gray eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I was just wondering if you have fall, like we do.”

Zara straightens his chair to the sitting position and strokes his neatly trimmed mustache. He casts a wary eye toward the house. Then, leaning close to Carlo in a conspiratorial fashion, asks, “Carlo, can you keep a secret?”

Carlo smiles, for he loves secrets. “Sure!”

Uncle Zara’s voice turns serious. “I’m going to tell you something that no one knows about me, and I need to know that you won’t tell anybody else. Not even you’re mama or papa! So, can I trust you?”

Carlo swallows hard. “Of course, Uncle. You’re not sick or anything, right?”

“No, no, no. This is in answer to your question.” While looking back at the house, Zara uses his fingers an waves Carlo closer. “Carlo,” he whispers. “I’m not of this planet."

Carlo pulls back and stares at his uncle. He is accustomed to his tall tales, but the tone of Uncle Zara’s sounds as if he is telling the truth.

Carlo's head is spinning. Uncle Zara sounds honest enough, but is he joking or is poor Uncle Zara a bit off? Warily, Carlo responds.

“So, if you are not of Earth, just where do you come from and how did you get here?”

“Ahh! You’re not sure if you believe me, but you still want to hear more, yes? Okay, but this remains between you and me, right?" Carlo nods. “Good! I come from a galaxy called the Canis Major Dwarf Galaxy. It is just twenty-five thousand light-years away.”

Zara waves his hands rapidly in front of himself. “I know, I know, it sounds outrageous but, it’s true. About fifty-seven years ago, my home planet, Dunia, was at war with a neighboring planet called Sayuri. I was a student in quantum physics and had devised a way to interfere with their attacks. I determined that if we could produce a ball of energy that, when fired upon their planet, would not destroy but push them out of their orbit by one micron, then this minor adjustment would set their planet on a new orbit. This would result in more space between our two planets. When the enemy learned of my discovery, they sent assassins to eliminate me before I could turn my theory into reality. The government of Dunia gave me a one-man spacecraft to escape in, and I used it to flee my home planet. In my travels, I used the onboard computer to study a small blue planet called Earth.It had everything I needed to survive: oxygen, water, food, and shelter. I learned of a race of people called Italians who have lightly colored olive skin like my own. Searching through a long list of surnames, I found one just like mine, Zara. It is derived from a city called Zadar. I added Roberto because everyone here has two or more names!”

Carlo is spellbound. It all seems so fantastic. He’s not sure if he should continue loving his uncle or be afraid of him because, after all, he’s an alien! A being from another world.

Meanwhile, Zara carries on with his tale. “After cloaking my spacecraft so it couldn’t be detected, I spent months circling the Earth looking for the right place to land. I finally decided on a piece of deep forest just north of Acadia National Park in Maine. I spent some time learning English. Also, with the help of my onboard laser printer, I was able to manufacture appropriate clothing and currency. With these things completed, I left the cloaking device on and set off to Worcester, Massachusetts. I applied for an assistant bookkeeper’s job. Because of their archaic math system, I was soon promoted to a full partnership in the firm. So there you have it, Carlo. The whole story of who I am and where I come from. Zara sits back in the chair and pops right back up again. “Oh, by the way, to answer your original question, no, we don’t have fall.”

Carlo is limp as a dishrag. His head is spinning with questions but, he can’t think straight enough to ask them. He simply stares at his uncle.

“Carlo, I’ve taken the liberty of opening a bank safety deposit box at my local Bank of America. When I die, the bank will call you and hand you the key. Inside, you will find directions to my spacecraft and a device to operate it.” Hearing the back door to the house slam, Uncle Zara puts a finger to his lips and smiles.

…

Fifteen years later, Carlo gets a phone call from the manager of the Bank of America in Worcester. He requests that Carlo come and accept a key to a safety deposit box that his uncle left him in his will.

Following the co-orderance provided, Carlo is now standing deep in the Maine forest looking at an enormous pile of leaves. In his hand, he holds a slender device with multiple function buttons. Carlo pushes the flashing one. As the cloaking device diminishes, the leaves fall to the ground. Before him is a small metallic spacecraft hovering about a foot off the ground.

Carlo’s other arm is wrapped around an urn containing Uncle Zara’s ashes, attached is this note.

“Carlo, the ship is self-aware, so all you have to do is give it verbal commands.I would like to have my ashes spread over my home planet, Dunia. Don’t worry about the time travel because the ship has warp speed ten times the speed of light. You’ll be there in no time. I love you, Uncle Zara.”

With trembling fingers, Carlo pushes the next flashing button. An opening appears in the side of the craft as a voice emanates from inside, “Welcome, Captain. We are ready to depart at your command.”

Carlo whispers, “Son of a bitch!”