The Mogadorian alien race, from the planet Mogadore of the 9th Galaxy, have been on Earth for over ten years now. They are a vicious race on a quest for universal domination. They are rumored to have wiped out another planet not unlike Earth, and are planning to expose Earth's weaknesses in a quest to inhabit our planet next.
(more to follow next issue)
I read the article three times. I was hoping there might be more to it than what Sam already said, but no such luck. And there is no Ninth Galaxy. I wonder where they got that from. I flip through the new issue twice. There is no mention of the Mogadorians. My first thought is that there was nothing left to report, that more news failed to present itself. But I don't believe that's the case. My second thought is that the Mogadorians read the issue and then fixed the problem, whatever the problem was.
"Do you mind if I borrow this?" I ask, holding up last month's issue.
He nods. "But be careful with it."
Three hours later, at eight o'clock, Sam's mother still isn't home. I ask Sam where she is and he shrugs as though he doesn't know and her absence is nothing new. Mostly we just play video games and watch TV and for dinner we eat microwavable meals. The whole time I'm there he doesn't once wear his glasses, which is odd since I've never seen him without them before. Even when we ran the mile in gym class, he kept them on. I grab them from the top of his dresser and put them on. The world becomes an instant blur and they give me a headache almost immediately.
I look at Sam. He's sitting cross-legged on the floor, his back against his bed, with a book of aliens in his lap.
"Jesus, is your vision really this bad?" I ask.
He looks up at me. "They were my dad's."
I take them off.
"Do you even need glasses, Sam?"
He shrugs. "Not really."
"So why do you wear them?"
"They were my dad's."
I put them back on. "Wow, I don't see how you can even walk straight with these on."
"My eyes are used to them."
"You know these will screw up your vision if you continue wearing them, right?"
"Then I'll be able to see what my dad saw."
I take them off and put them back where I found them. I don't really understand why Sam wears them. For sentimental reasons? Does he really think it's worth it?
"Where is your dad, Sam?"
He looks up at me.
"I don't know," he says.
"What do you mean?"
"He disappeared when I was seven."
"You don't know where he went?"
He sighs, drops his head, and resumes reading. Obviously he doesn't want to talk about it.
"Do you believe in any of this stuff?" he asks after a few minutes of silence.
"Aliens?"
"Yeah."
"Yes, I believe in aliens."
"Do you think they really abduct people?"
"I have no idea. I guess we can't rule it out. Do you believe they do?"
He nods. "Most days. But sometimes the idea just seems stupid."
"I can understand that."
He looks up at me. "I think my dad was abducted," he says.
He tenses the second the words leave his mouth and a look of vulnerability crosses his face. It makes me believe that he has shared his theory before, with someone whose response was less than kind.
"Why do you think that?"
"Because he just disappeared. He went to the store to buy milk and bread, and he never came back. His truck was parked right outside the store but nobody there had seen him. He just vanished, and his glasses were on the sidewalk beside his truck." He pauses for a second. "I was worried you were here to abduct me."
It's a hard theory to believe. How could nobody have seen his father abducted if the incident occurred in the middle of town? Perhaps his dad had reason to leave and he plotted his own disappearance. It's not hard to make yourself disappear; Henri and I have been doing it for ten years now. But all of a sudden Sam's interest in aliens makes perfect sense. Perhaps Sam just wants to see the world as his dad did, but maybe part of him truly believes that his dad's final sight is captured in the glasses, somehow etched into the lenses. Maybe he thinks that with persistence one day he'll eventually come to see it as well, and that his dad's last vision will confirm what is already in his head. Or maybe he believes that if he searches long enough he'll finally come across an article that proves his father was abducted, and not only that, but that he can be saved.
And who am I to say that he won't one day find that proof?
"I believe you," I say. "I think alien abductions are very possible."