Something jogged my memory the other day, and I realized it had been a long time since Kaybe, my alien friend from outer space, had contacted me. Long time readers will remember Kaybe, but if you’re a new reader, here is an update:
Do you believe in aliens from outer space? I do. I’ve been friends with one for decades. KB-11.2 doesn’t have green skin and luminous eyes like the aliens one sees in sci-fi movies. In Kaybe’s part of the universe they’ve solved the problem of time and space. For them, crossing six parcecs is like going to the grocery store.
Kaybe looks like a giant tuna fish can. Erector Set® arms sprout from the curving sides of his body, and three spindly metal legs drop down from the underside of his flat stainless steel torso. He has ball bearing wheels for feet. A floppy two-foot antenna, with three sensor-eyes, stick out of the middle of his lid. Kaybe comes from the Alpha Centauri star system. Many years ago on a visit to Earth, Kaybe saved my marriage. He communicates through mental telepathy
Since I first met him, Kaybe and I have had many fine adventures. He usually stops by The Enchantment when he is within a few hundred parsecs of Earth. Another of my alien friends, Four-Finger Fanny, works as a waitress there.
The Enchantment is a dingy roadhouse on the outskirts of Letongaloosa. It’s the kind of place every college town needs to maintain academic accreditation.
I go to the Enchantment for a soft drink with friends—some of whom live here in Letongaloosa and some, like my robot alien friend KB 11.2, Henry the Hulk, Miniature Mike, and Four-Finger Fanny, live a long, long way from here.
Four-Finger Fanny speaks telepathically, but she also speaks human. I’m glad she does because it tires me to speak telepathically.
Four-Finger Fanny doesn’t look like an alien. She looks like a
40-something waitress with sore feet and a tired back—which she is, actually. Fanny works at The Enchantment. That’s her day job. Her real assignment is to be earth’s contact with the Powers that Be in this sector of the cosmos.
I called the Enchantment and asked for Fanny.
“Hello,” she said. “Long time, no hear.”
“I apologize,” I said. “There’s been a lot going on. Fanny, is Kaybe due to swing by the solar system anytime soon? I haven’t been in touch for ages. I need to visit with him.”
“Funny you should ask,” said Fanny. Kaybe just sailed in this morning. He was a few parsecs away so he swung by to say ‘Hello.’”
“Kaybe!” I said.
His answer came telepathically. When Kaybe speaks English his words come in sounding like Jimmy Kimmel. When he speaks Spanish he sounds like the Mexican comedian Cantiflas.
“Hello, old friend, how goes it?”
“Emaline is well, but I’m at loose ends. I need to get away from Earth and all the stuff in my life. I want to go into outer space. Can you help me do that?”
“Kind of “ET Call Home,” you mean,” said Kaybe.
“Yes, but rather than calling, I want to GO there,” I said.
A couple of days later (who knows how long it was in space-time) Kaybe called me. He actually called me. The telephone rang. He was using his Jimmy Kimmel voice.
“I can beam you up, Scotty,” he said.
“What should I take with me?”
“Just the clothes you’re wearing. You don’t even need a toothbrush.”
“How long will I be gone?”
“You could figure somewhere between two shakes of a lamb’s tail and several months.”
“What should I tell Emaline?”
“You don’t need to tell her anything. To her it will seem like two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”
The next thing I knew I was hurtling through space. I was standing inside a clear plastic ball. Comets and asteroids and stars whizzed by me. I felt happy and loose and at ease.
The next thing I knew I was home—upstairs sitting at my desk.
I picked up the phone.
“ Kaybe, that was great! THANK YOU!”
“Anytime, old friend, be well.”
Dr. Larry day is a retired J-School professor turned humor writer. His book, Day Dreaming: Tales From the Fourth Dementia is available for purchase via his website: http://www.daydreaming.co