Shopping with Lalo was interesting. I bit my tongue, trying to hold back my laughter. He wondered why all of the shirts made from the same type of fabric were a wide range in price. A few shirt designs caught his attention, and he spent some time deciphering the meaning. I stopped him after a few minutes, telling him the simple artwork didn’t mean anything. He was so out of his element that I asked him if they wore clothes on his planet.
“The Masqysava, we wear clothes, but we don’t have as much variety,” Lalo said. “The first time I saw so many...” Lalo returned to the shirts with the artwork and grabbed three different shirts. He put one on the end of the rack and held the other two next to it.
A sign due to the combination of shirts? Was that even possible? And the name, Masqysava. Masqysava equals Humans as in a type of being or Masqysava equals a type of alien species?
Lalo stared at his display for a little while then pivoted around to me.
“Do the patterns mean anything?” I asked.
“That would be cool wouldn’t it? But no, we studied this,” Lalo said and held up the shirts.
So these designers were aliens too?
“Clothes,” he said. “In a class when I was young.” One of the customers caught Lalo’s eye.
“What is it?” I asked as I got a good look the man who grabbed Lalo’s attention. I didn’t know him.
“That person is familiar to me, but. Anyway, I remembered asking why we didn’t have so many choices. We studied your clothes, but why?”
Lalo refocused his attention to me.
“To determine the personality of humans you came into contact with?” I said. “Find out who likes fashion, follows or sets their own trends, likes comfort over style, has money?”
“To know your culture,” Lalo said, not sure of his answer. “In case we came into contact with you.”
“Or in case you moved here. To know how to fit in.”
“Or to target,” Lalo said. “Target a specific section of your population to make peace, or attack.”
“Woah,” I said.
“Yeah. We better get moving.”
—-
Jeans, T-shirts, and a few casual shirts was what Lalo ended up with. He said they would be easier to move around in. I asked him if he wanted a jacket in case the air conditioning in places got too cold. He said he didn’t get too cold or too hot.
Lalo was again in awe at the shoe store. Hundreds of shoe designs lined the floors, which meant hundreds of shoes for him to play with. At one point, I stopped him to remind him of my price range and budget. I laughed to myself about having to stop him. He was so happy in there.
Even I became glad we went to a shoe warehouse where we helped ourselves to find the perfect fit. Memories of childhood returned when I knelt down to the floor and slid the cold metal device under Lalo’s foot to figure out his shoe size. As my mother did with me, I pressed down at the end of the shoes Lalo put on to make sure he had enough toe space. I stuck to approving stable shoes, and I made him walk a little bit down the aisle to make sure they were comfortable.
My mom. My parents. They too would be affected if something sour was about to go down. And I was taking care of someone who could help figure out a way to stop it. By the looks of it, getting aliens addicted to shopping was a viable solution to thwart an alien invasion. All we would have to do is lure them to the mall.
I glanced outside of the giant picture windows at the front of the store. The sun was almost gone, and the sky would be extremely dark within the hour. Our plan was to go at night, but the idea of going at night bothered me.
The site of the disappearance wasn’t in a safe part of town. At night violence rose. I nudged Lalo and told him we could finish shopping later. He made his decision, running shoes of course, and we headed toward the crime scene. Lalo exchanged the flip flops he was wearing for the shoes during the drive over there.
“Lalo, we can’t get out,” I said. “We are going to have to drive by. I don’t want to get on the suspect list. The police are probably patrolling the place.”
“What about you drop me off,” he said. “I can go undetected.”
“But if I’m constantly driving around, they will know that I am up to no good.”
“Fine,” he said and gazed out the window.
As we approached the area, the night took over the cotton candied sky. A black bird flew down to the gravel. The two steps it took delivered enough information, telling it to get out of there. Other than grass and weeds I saw no other sign of life. I slowed down and drove under part of the bridge next to where the disappearance took place.
“I don’t see any cameras and there is a parking lot over there,” Lalo said.
“What about finding clues nearby?” I said. “Like the coffee shop that isn’t too far from here.”
“No! We get out,” Lalo said.
“But—” I said.
“But nothing! I will protect you!” he said.
“Don’t cut me off!” I said. Who did he think he was? “And you don’t even know what’s out there!”
“Marli,” he said with a stern voice. “Please. I have to find out.”
I huffed and drove a little further to make a U-Turn to get to the parking lot. No, don’t go my gut said when I parked. Three streetlights lined the bridge. They were dim, beginning to wake up. To add to the creepy scene, the living area under the bridge wasn’t one large area. It was divided into sections, made from arches of the cement that supported the bridge.
Lalo reached for the door, and I grabbed his arm. “Five minutes,” I said. “No more than that.”
“I’ll try for less,” he said.
I stayed in the car, crossing my arms while looking out onto the seedy road and patches of dirt amongst the grass behind me across the street. I didn’t dare shut off the car in case we had to leave in a hurry.
Lalo startled me when he tried to open my car door.
“Come on,” he said. “We need to stick together.”
I got out and rushed him to the crime scene, the area across the street, under the bridge. I also kept an eye on my car. We would have to run at least a minute to get back to it.
I didn’t like how I kept getting chills, thinking that the scene was a trap. No one was there but us. Nothing but the underside of a bridge with a few cars passing over it, grass, and dirt. Lalo ducked under the yellow tape.
“Hey,” he said, pointing to some graffiti under the bridge.
“That’s graffiti,” I said.
“No,” he said. “It means something. I’ve seen it. I think.”
“Well,” I said and pulled out my phone. I walked further down the tape to get a clear shot. I took a few pictures. I flipped through them and was satisfied with the quality. I saw that Lalo was watching me.
“I got a good shot,” I said.
“K,” Lalo said and started searching for the rocks he saw on TV.
After roaming around impatiently for a few minutes, I heard something in the grass. I spun around. It remained hidden. I mouthed Lalo’s name.
Keeping my eyes forward, I took careful steps towards Lalo. A small patch of rocks crunched below my feet, causing me to freeze. I waved for Lalo to come to me so we could go. He held up his finger to say “one more minute.” I vigorously shook my head. I did not want to wait for what was behind the solid divider.
Memories of the man from my dream flashed across my mind. My insides tightened.
Please do not be that guy.
The crunching of the grass began again. I brought quivering my hands up, preparing to fight. I saw something in the bottom of my eyesight. A part of the monster? No, nothing more than a cat peeked around the divider. When it saw me, it strolled across the grass, maintaining eye contact. A few feet further away it started trotting.
I relaxed. A cat. That’s all it was. I hoped.
“Hurry up,” I whispered to Lalo.
He glanced around the place then headed to meet me halfway. To get to Lalo, I began stepping on the area full of rocks. My ankle adjusted for the uneven surface until I landed on a rock that sent a sharp, piercing sensation to my foot. My knee jerked up. I examined the bottom of my shoe. There was no puncture. Phew.
“You alright?” Lalo asked.
“Yeah,” I said.
Lalo rushed over and bent down to check my foot. Placing it aside, he picked up one of the rocks. He twirled the rock in his hand then moved the top layer of rocks off to the side.
“What’s going on?” I asked as I glanced down, towering over him.
He picked up a couple of small, purple spotted glass rocks. “Here is our clue.” He put the rocks in his pocket.
The wind blew, sending more chills through me. I took that as a message to get out of there. “Let’s go,” I said.
“Okay,” he said.
I pulled out my car keys and surveyed the area for any upright, standing, living things as Lalo and I trotted back to my car.
Under the hold of my windshield wiper was a flyer, flickering in the wind. I snatched it.
Out of all places. They always find you don’t they?
Once we were inside the safety of my car, my fingers couldn’t move faster to lock the doors and turn the key. I wanted to slam my foot on the pedal and peel out of there, but I escaped at a moderate pace. I noticed I had maintained a death grip on the flyer, so I put it in the drink holder.
“Look and see if anyone is back there,” I said. That cat could have been making the noise, but someone else could have been there too, excuse me, something else could have been there too.
Lalo twisted around in his seat. “I can’t see anyone.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“What about feel? Can you sense anyone, anything?”
“No.”
“Good.”
I didn’t relax until we were on the highway again, going back to the country.
“Let’s not ever do that again,” I said.