The Mother Ship

The Mother Ship

John stood looking up into the night sky.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him.

No answer. John kept his eyes on the sky. I looked up as well. I saw nothing but black sky and tiny white spots. Stars?

“I’m waiting,” he whispered.

“Um. Okay.”

“They’ll be here soon.” John walked to a different spot in the yard. “We need to be ready.”

I checked the sky again, still nothing but black sky and white spots.

“Do I need to look for something special?”

“The mother ship…,” stated John in all seriousness.

“The mother ship.” I repeated the words. “And how exactly would I recognize the mother ship?”

John turned, his look was one of disdain. He returned to skygazing.

“If you have to ask, you’d never know. It’s too hard to explain. I’ll know when it gets here.”

“Right.”

The two of us stood for a few more moments. I then sat on the damp ground. John remained standing. A few more moments went by, I laid on the ground.

I never realized how many stars there are in the sky. It was a clear night, no clouds, no moon. No…

When I woke, John was gone. There was a burnt spot where he’d been standing, a perfect circle. The stars were gone, the sun was rising. A new day was beginning.

Darn, I missed the ship. I vowed to not miss it again. So every night when the sky was clear and the stars came out, I went to the burnt spot. I looked up at the sky.

“What are you doing here?” A voice interrupted me one night.

“I’m waiting for the mother ship.”

“The mother ship? How will you know when it comes?”

“It’s too hard to explain.”

W/C 297