Sam stood under the shower as the hot water cascaded over his body. There was just something about early morning showers that he liked. “So invigorating,” he thought. He was glad the he had finally had a chance to make the trip to Galveston for vacation. It was something his family used to do when he was growing up. A visit to the beach, Sea Rim and a day sailing was always the norm. Usually followed up by a trip to Houston to see the Astros, and if he was lucky, a trip to NASA headquarters. Even as a kid, he was interested in science, it shaped his career path.

Sam smiled as he remembered afternoons at San Jacinto state park, shopping at the Galleria, nagging his sister as they saw the sights at the zoo. He even remembered being scared and fascinated by the Mummy exhibit he saw one summer at the Museum of Natural History. He reached for the soap, ready to start his day.

The disinfectant soap had a nauseating smell to it and felt like rough sandpaper on his skin. Sam nearly always became sick when he was made to take the bio showers, but it was standard operating procedure. He looked around at the sterile shower room and could hear some of his coworkers in the adjoining stalls, one was even singing. It blew Sam’s mind as he scrubbed with the foul smelling bar.

“Hey Sam.” A gruff voice called out, Sam looked up and over. “You suppose that we’ll actually get inside the ship tomorrow like Dawson says?”

Sam smiled wistfully, “I hope so Frank, the suspense is killing me!”

Sam blinked. “Ship?” He thought absently. “What Ship?” He shook his head as he reached down to shut off the water to the shower. He pulled open the shower curtain, reached for a towel and stepped out.

“Shows you how much I needed this vacation.” He said out loud, thinking back. He walked over to the bathroom sink. He looked at the plain white walls, the larger mirror in front of him, the large counter and sparkling white toilet and grimaced. There were times that he felt that the hotel bathrooms were more than a little generic and boring. Then again, he supposed, the hotels were designed to be that way. He reached to open the medicine cabinet. How he hated shaving.

“Maybe I’ll just grow a beard,” he thought.
He grabbed the can of shaving cream and lathered his face. He then reached for the razor, wondering again why he just did not grow a beard. Or at least get an electric shaver. He leaned forward to the mirror to get a better look at his face.

Sam looked baffled at his reflection in the shiny metal surface. Not a hint of seams or any sign of how the metal was attached together. It was almost as if it was one cylindrical piece. He wiped his forehead in frustration and pushed his glasses up. He stepped back and looked over at Dawson to his left standing several feet away examining the craft as well. He seemed to be a perplexed as he was. Dawson looked up and started to say something.
“Guys!” Frank interrupted, calling out from the other side of the craft. “Come see this!”

Sam blinked at his reflection in the mirror. “See what?” He sighed and noticed that he had nicked himself shaving. He opened the medicine cabinet to look at for something to stop the bleeding.

He saw a sort, thin bright orange pill bottle on the bottom shelf and reached for it. He examined the label.

All he saw was his name and the instructions to take one a day in the morning. It surprised him that there was no other labeling on the bottle. No pill name, doctor or pharmacy was listed.

“Strange,” he thought, examining it further. Then again he could not even remember having the bottle. He frowned, he was sure that he had never seen the bottle before. He thought for a moment, and then put the bottle back.

“Very strange,” he thought again, and then walked out of the bathroom. He figured that the cut would not kill him. He had places to be and was losing valuable daylight.


The hot afternoon sun beat down on Sam as he walked the beach. The sounds of the surf and the birds were relaxing. He scanned the horizon and saw nothing but the Gulf of Mexico. Seeing the occasional pleasure boat bouncing along the waves, but noticing that it was mostly empty on the horizon, he thought, “How peaceful. “

“This is the life,” he convinced himself. No worries. He walked further along the beach. He smiled as he saw two teenage girls running down the beach trying to get a kite airborne. A sudden gust of wind sent the bright green kite soaring up. Sam stared at the green diamond kite as it fluttered in the sky. The material shined a bright, florescent green in the morning sunlight.

Sam and Dawson were looking at Frank as he smiled at them. His face lit up like a child on Christmas morning. He said almost above a whisper, “I found it!”

Dawson said, “Found what?”

Frank to a step toward the craft and said, “This.”
He raised a hand to the silver hull and extending out all his fingers, pressed his palm against the craft.
The three stared in amazement as three bright shapes appeared on the side; a red circle, a blue triangle and a green diamond. The green diamond was flashing.
Without hesitation Frank reached up to press the green diamond. Sam held his breath…

“Watch out dude!” a young man’s voice interrupted Sam’s thoughts. He looked over to see ATV bearing down on him at full throttle. He leapt out of the way, landing face first in the sand. The machine kept racing off, the driver uncaring about what had transpired.

The young man that had warned him reached out his hand and helped Sam back up. Sam shook off the sand, thanked the young man. He decided that maybe a nice jaunt to downtown would be more interesting. Not to mention safer. First, he needed to head back to his hotel room.

Sam sighed in relief as he stepped into the hotel lobby. The blast of air conditioning on this hot Texas summer day felt as if he had stepped into heaven. He was well on his way to the elevator when a hotel employee caught up with him.

“Mr. Thomas!” He called out. Sam stopped and turned around. The middle aged hotel employee handed him a letter. “This came for you.”

Sam reached out and took the envelope from him. Staring at the envelope he reached into his pocket and handed the man a tip. Not hearing the thank you he turned and stepped into the elevator, still staring at the envelope. On it was his name in care of the hotel. He noticed that the cream colored envelope had no return address. Curious as to who would send him a letter he opened it after he hit the button for his floor.

In it he found a single page. Sam was shocked when he recognized the handwriting as his own.

‘Do not forget to take your pills!’

Sam just stared at the note, not quite sure what to make of it, his mind focused on the vial of pills he had left untouched in his room that morning. His train of thought was interrupted by the ding of the elevator. He stepped off and made his way for his room. Hurriedly he swiped the key card and stepped inside. Dropping the note and envelope on the stand next to his bed, he made a beeline for the bathroom and the medicine cabinet.

The pill vial sat exactly where he had set it earlier. He reached for it. Started to put his hand on the top to open it, and then stopped. Thinking for a minute he set the vial back down and walked back to his bed and plopped down and looked straight up, he watched the ceiling fan blades slowly spin and drifted to sleep.


Sam awoke and the world around him was dark. He looked aver to the bed side clock and it read a little past nine in the evening. He sat up and looked around. Reaching over, he flipped on the lamp and his eyes were instantly drawn to the letter on the nightstand. He looked at it as if it were diseased. He could take it no longer. Grabbing the note, he examined it again. The words had not changed, nor the handwriting.

With note in hand he walked to the bathroom and once again stared at the vial.
He felt disturbed, frustrated and hungry. It had occurred to him that he had not eaten that day. Setting the letter back down, Sam thought that maybe a good meal would help him think. Maybe this is all the result of food, or the lack of it. He laughed when the words of Scrooge came to mind, “There is more of gruel than ghoul.” He made a face in the mirror and called out, “Humbug. Bah Humbug.”
He made his way to the closet and began to get dressed for a night on the town, feeling a bit better.

The noise of the restaurant made Sam a bit uneasy. The sounds of the kitchen, the several conversations going on simultaneously, the clanging of pans and tinkling of glassware served only to unnerve him. The waitress came to take his order, he gruffly ordered the house specialty and leaned back in his chair to try and relax and nurse his drink. Off in the distance he heard the hiss of a drink station as someone refilled a coke.

Right after Frank pushed the green pattern as the craft began to hiss strangely. The three of them stepped back and someone up in the control room overlooking them noticed. An alarm sounded and a not so calm voice alerted everyone to a possible danger in the hangar bay that housed the craft.
In seconds several other white clad technicians had arrived some with instruments, some with weapons. All had faces of anticipation. Some of those faces showed glee and excitement at what was about to happen. Others looked on in trepidation and anxiety.

A doorway opened up next to the panel and a gang plank slid out. A bright yellowish light beamed from inside the craft and steam bellowed out. Frank looked at Sam and Dawson. Frank smiled at them, “Shall we step through the looking glass.”

The sound of a plate being sat down in front of him made him snap to attention. He looked at the food and suddenly wasn’t so hungry at the moment.

“Can you put it in a to-go box?” he asked. The waitress looked annoyed for a moment, but Sam handed her three twenties. The waitress pocketed the tip and smiled, off to get his box. In a few minutes, Sam was in his rental car and off. He did not want to go back to the hotel just yet, so he decided to just drive around.

His cell phone rang. He reached into his pocket and made a cursory glance at his phone. He saw it marked private so he went back to concentrating on his driving and allowed the call to go to voice mail. He felt he needed one of two things, to go back to the hotel and sleep; or to find a bar and get hammered.

He chose the latter.

Sam sat in the corner of the bar downing his third scotch. He stared at the bottom of the glass half hoping for salvation, half hoping for answers. Unfortunately for him, the drinks were bringing neither. However, he decided he would try harder. After the sixth, or was it the seventh, he was starting to forget his woes and decided to try and have just a little fun while he was out. He stood up and made his way to the dance floor.

Next to the dance floor he bumped into a short haired brunette. He looked at her, figured her to be in her early thirties. He smiled, “Sorry about that.”

She smiled back, “No problem.”

She held out her hand, he warmly clasped it, “The name’s Sam.”

“Theresa.” She said with a smile. “You from around here?”

He shook his head, “Vacation.”

“Oh,” she replied, “So what do you do?”

His mind went blank. What did he do? Without thinking he replied in a monotone voice, almost as if he had rehearsed the line, “I am Sam Thomas. I am an Insurance adjuster, boring really.”

She looked at him strangely and slowly replied, “Okay.”

He beamed at her asking, “Wanna dance?”

She thought for a second, shrugged, “Why not.”
They walked on to the dance floor, he put his arms around her and they began swaying to the music. He held her close, noting the sweet fragrance of her perfume. He looked at the metallic clip in her hair, mesmerized by the way it reflected the lights from the dance floor.

The inside of the craft was just as metallic in coloring as the outside. Sam noticed that there were no sharp corners, everything was smooth. Their footsteps made a weird echo. Dawson looked down and said “Weird.” His voice had a flat tone to it. Sam looked puzzled, “Acoustic dampening?” he asked. Frank nodded in agreement. Sam motioned to a corridor off to the left and they headed in that direction.

The three of them made their way down the corridor, but stopped for a moment as a weird, putrid, morbid smell came from ahead of them. Frank picked up his walkie and tried to talk to someone outside the craft. All he got was static. He looked surprised. The three continued down the corridor.

“

Hey let go!” Theresa cried, interrupting him, “The dance is over!”

He looked at her puzzled, “But it just started!”

Theresa pulled free of him and backed away. “Leave me alone!” she said huffily, then added as she walked away, “Loser.”

He looked confused, and then shrugged. “Maybe a few more drinks.” He said, heading off to quench his thirst.

At the bar, he slammed his fist down and looked at the bartender. “Scotch. Neat!” he bellowed. The bartender gave him an impatient look, and then set Sam’s drink in front of him. Smiling he threw back his head and finished off the drink in one gulp, allowing the drink to burn his throat as it made its way to his stomach. Setting down his glass he intoned, “More!”

Sam drank the next drink just as fast. He was about to order another when his cell phone beeped. He pulled it from his pocket. “Ah.” He said with a smile, “Voicemail.”

He looked at the bartender, “Another drink while I check my voicemail.”

Flipping open his phone, he pressed the dial button. A monotone woman’s voice said, “You have one new message.”

He gave a lopsided grin to the irritated bartender, “I have a message.”

“Sam,” the message began. Sam was stunned, even in his drunken stupor, it sounded like his voice, “Take your pills. You need to take your pills.”

Sam shut the phone and looked at the bartender, suddenly feeling to sober for his taste. “I just left myself a message to take my pills.”

He shrugged, and reached for the refilled glass.

The bartender grabbed it from him and told him he had drunk enough. He told Sam he was going to call him a cab.

Sam felt in no condition to argue. He just hoped that the hangover in the morning would not be as bad as he expected it to be.


Once he had returned to his room he sat at the edge of his bed sitting, staring off into space.

The three of them entered a small room filled with controls. In the center of the room there was a chair and in that chair sat a creature. The creature’s body slumped lifeless in the chair.

Sam noted that the smell they encountered earlier was strong in here. He wondered how long the craft had been here, and what had caused its death. He shrugged, they’d get to the autopsy soon enough. The creature was wearing a suit of some kind, and its entire body was covered. A large metallic helmet with five pencil-like protrusions sticking out was leaning in an odd angle on top of the body.

“I wonder who it is,” Dawson asked, staring at the body, “Or what.”

Frank looked at the control panels on the wall. He noted that interior readout displays were like the outside panel controls. He noticed that none of the panels seemed to be within reach of the body in the center of the room. “I wonder how the craft is piloted.”

Sam pointed to the protrusions at the top of the helmet. “Some sort of psionics?” Sam looked at the alien body. He reached out and touched the body. The chair swiveled around till the body was facing Sam. Sam noticed that the creature was easily over six feet in height. Its gloves had two large fingers and what Sam surmised to be a thumb.

“Not human.” He said to no one. He stared at the helmet. The metallic helmet had a gold colored visor. Sam could see his reflection in it.

Sam saw his reflection in the darkened television screen. He reached over and grabbed the remote. Maybe some mind numbing television he wondered turning it on. Anything to distract myself from these weird dreams, he told himself.

Once again he spied the note on his bedside and shuddered. He pushed the thoughts from his mind and tried to concentrate on the channels as he pressed the buttons on the remote.

He stopped at the first news channel and stopped. Nothing like watching someone else’s bad luck to take your mind off of your troubles, he mused. He leaned back on the bed and looked up, his mind racing at everything that had happened so far today. He was adding two plus two and getting five. Nothing seemed to make sense.

The sound of the newscaster quickly became background noise as Sam collected his thoughts. “There must be a logical explanation for all of this.” He said aloud. He stood up and began to pace around the hotel room, thinking.

“Everything seemed to start in the shower this morning,” he told himself, “The weird daydream.”
He grabbed the remote and was tossing it up and down as he paced. The remote went up and down as he paced back and forth. “Then there was the pill bottle in the bathroom.”

He stopped suddenly and quickly made his way to the bathroom and grabbed the bottle. Once again he read the label. Once again there was only his name and the dosage instructions. He looked at the bottle perplexed and dropped it back on the counter.

"I am going nuts.”

He ran his hands through his dark short hair. “I don’t even know up from down anymore.”

His hand reached back for his pocket. He pulled out his wallet and opened it. He sighed in relief, “At least I am Samuel Thomas.”

He stared at his picture on his driver’s license. He then noticed that it was an Ohio state license. “I live in Ohio?” Strange, he could not even recall the town he lived in there. He looked at the license again. Lemmings, Ohio, it read. “Where?” he called out, “never heard of it.”
He flipped through his wallet looking at the contents. “Visa,” he said, “Blockbuster, Library Card.”

He shrugged in annoyance, no pictures of friends or relatives. He was hoping that one would jog his memory. “No such luck,” he fumed

“I am an insurance adjustor for…”he began.

“What the-!” he said aloud, “I can’t even remember who I work for, or where.”

He thought for a second. “I can remember my childhood.” He contemplated, “But I can’t remember where I live or work.” Once again he wondered, “Am I going crazy?”

Or am I already?

“It would explain a great deal.”

His eyes narrowed as he thought once again to the pill bottle. “It all ties in with that damn pill vial.”

He looked to the bathroom, and then glanced over at the nightstand. “Do not forget to take your pills.” The note seemed to scream to him. In his mind he heard a voice in the back of his mind recalling the phone message, “Sam, take your pills. You need to take your pills.”

He turned and stared at the vial. “Do I do what the note and phone call says?”

He was still perplexed. He was convinced that it was his handwriting, or at least a good forgery. The voice in the call he would bet anything was his. He was confused.

Sam stood motionless for a second. Should he? He started to reach for the visor….

Sam wrapped his hand around the vial. He paused. Would the pills stop these hallucinations? Or were the pills the cause? “Should I take one?” He asked himself. Then looking at the toilet added, “Or just flush them?”

Sam’s gloved hand touched the visor. It was smooth and cold. Frank and Dawson hand walked over to stand next to him. This was the moment Sam had dreamed of since he was a kid staying p till the early hours of the morning watching sci-fi movies or reading sci-fi books. He had hoped one day to be here, now only a visor was between him and seeing the face of something from another planet….

He started to lift the visor slowly.

Sam stared at the pill vial, then at the toilet. He thought for a moment. He knew what he had to do.
He took a deep breath and opened the vial……..

Impressum

Texte: All the usual
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 08.08.2010

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Dedicated to my wife, Franchesca, who I was blessed to share this epoch with...