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A snort blasted from Paul's podgy nose and echoed around his small bedroom as he awoke. Stretching one of his chubby hands he turned his digital clock towards him. It was five minutes to three. With a grunt he sat up. The seams on his pyjama top threatened to rip apart. Gosh, he thought, it's warm. He brushed the back of his hand at the sweat bubbling on his brow. I need a drink of water. As he struggled out of the top of his pyjamas he almost fell out of bed. Seconds later he was heading for the bathroom
Paul was twelve and a half years old and three stones heavier than his father. He had a pleasant, dimpled face, short black hair and dark eyes. In the bathroom he filled a glass and quickly drank the cool water. As he slowly drank the second one he tried to avoid seeing his reflection in the bathroom mirror. I'm getting fatter, he thought dismally. He sighed heavily. Tomorrow I'm definitely going on a diet. Putting the empty glass back on the sink he shook his head and sighed again. He knew he wouldn't keep it up. He had tried to diet often and once he had succeeded in losing seven pounds. He had lost the half stone a few days after his P.E. teacher had called him a useless lump of lard. He had been really determined then to lose more weight. But six days later in the playground the school bully had kicked him on the behind and yelled, 'Watch out you don't burst out of your trousers, fatso!' Almost everyone there had laughed, even Carol Carlin, the girl he had a crush on. The half stone was back on two days later.
As he was about to leave the bathroom, Paul was startled to see his reflection in the mirror change. He almost cried out with fear when an eerie face suddenly appeared just above his head. The face had no eyes, but a small mouth opened and closed as it spoke.
'Paul, I need your help,' said a strange voice. Paul gaped at the mirror then suddenly swung around. There was nothing behind him. Slowly he turned back to the mirror. The eerie face was still there. 'Paul, please come to me. I need your help.'
Paul slowly reached up. At the same time he kept his eyes on the face in the mirror. He saw his arm rise and his fingers stretch as they felt for the face. He could feel nothing. The face was glowing now. Paul looked behind again, nothing. I must be going mad, he thought as he turned back to the mirror.
'No, Paul you are not going mad. I need you now. The others are coming too. Say-ra will be here soon to pick you up. Go down and wait for her at the front door. Please, Paul I really need you. Say-ra will be there soon. You really have to hurry.'
'Sarah?' exclaimed Paul. 'I don't know anyone called, Sarah.' he frowned. Now I'm talking to it, he thought.
'You soon will. Paul, listen to me. You have to get ready now. Get dressed, go downstairs and wait at the front door of your house. Say-ra will be here in five minutes.'
'But...' Paul gaped at the mirror. The face had gone.
'Please hurry, Paul,' the voice came to him again.
'No...no...' whispered Paul, backing away from the mirror and out of the bathroom. His heart was pounding as he threw himself on top of his bed. He lay there breathing hard trying to understand what he had seen.
'Paul,' said the voice. 'Don't be afraid. No harm will come to you. You know it won't.'
'Do I?' exclaimed Paul, looking all around his bedroom. 'No.' But he did. He did know it. He sat up.
'You have only four minutes, Paul. Say-ra will be here then. Please hurry.'
Sarah, thought Paul, not realizing he had got out of his bed. Who the heck is Sarah? Frowning he walked to his wardrobe. I have to get ready, he thought.
Two minutes later, wearing the black bottoms of his father's tracksuit and a pair of sandals and a tight green Tee shirt with the word, 'Rocky' written on it, Paul walked to his bedroom door. In his right hand he carried the top of the tracksuit. The stairs groaned their objections as he slipped downstairs.
Fifteen seconds later, when he opened the front door and stepped outside he was shocked to see a car hurtling down the street. Sarah cried aloud as her right foot lifted by itself from the accelerator and slammed hard against the brake pedal. With another cry she grabbed the steering wheel tighter as the car screeched to a halt right at Paul's front door. Now she saw the passenger door open with a click. Astonished she saw the heavy boy get into the car and sit down. The door slammed shut at once. The engine revved as Sarah's foot pressed on the accelerator.
'Hello,' greeted Paul, as the car shot away. 'Are you, Sarah? I'm Paul.'
Sarah smiled at him. 'Sarah Lawrence, but I won't shake your hand just yet.'
'Please don't,' said Paul his eyes wide as the car bombed rapidly up the road.
From her bedroom window, Paul's mother was just in time to see her son get into the car.
'Jim! Jim!' she screamed two seconds later, shaking her husband awake.
****
'This is absolutely crazy!' screamed Sarah as the car screeched to a halt at the crossroads then shot left.
Paul gulped. 'Yes,' he whispered, staring at the speedometer. They were doing almost 110 miles an hour. The wind was rippling through the open window on Sarah's side ruffling the hair on the back of his head. He was shivering as he turned to her.
'Have...have you been driving long?' he asked. His knuckles were white as he gripped the edge of his seat.
'No,' answered Sarah turning to give him another smile. 'I've never driven before.'
Paul gulped again as he studied her. Never driven before, he mouthed, pushing back hard against the seat and turning to stare through the windscreen as the car speed-ed up.
'Yes, I know,' giggled Sarah her bright eyes on the road ahead as the car's speed increased to 119 miles per hour.
****
The alien felt the bulb move. Soon I'll rise, it thought. Soon I'll be above.