on it with the words “Fight Big Pharma” on it—I wasn’t sure what it all meant—and on his feet—I tried not to gasp out loud—Crocs. Yellow Crocs. Old, worn, yellow Crocs.
“Frankie, this is your almost namesake, Frank,” Mark said, with a little too much glee in his voice, which made me think he was up to something.
“Hi.” I extended my hand for him to shake. He looked down at it, almost disgusted, and that’s when I noticed that he was wearing silver gloves on both his hands.
“I don’t shake,” he said, and put his hands behind his back. It was awkward.
“Tell Frankie what you saw last night, Frank,” Mark said and then poked me in the back a few times. Why was he poking me?
“Right,” Frank said and then dug into his old jeans pocket and pulled out a very well-thumbed notepad and pencil that had been almost sharpened to death. He flipped the page open and started reading, while Mark continued to poke me in the back.
“At approximately 2:04 this morning, I was awoken by a loud rumbling sound.” He cleared his throat.
“Frank lives at the end of town, just as you drive onto the dust road to get to me,” Mark leaned over and said, a little quiver of excitement in his voice.
Frank looked confused. “I didn’t think mentioning my whereabouts was necessary,” he said to Mark almost angrily.
Mark nodded. “Sorry. Please, carry on.”
Frank cleared his throat again. “Because the noise was unfamiliar to me, I went to the window to investigate further, and that’s when I saw the UHO.”
“The what?” I asked.
“Unidentified hovering object.” He said it like it was a fact.
Mark turned and looked at me. “You hear that, Frankie? He saw an unidentified hovering object last night at two in the morning.” He was smiling from ear to ear now.
I shook my head. “Sorry, I don’t follow.”
“Frank, why don’t you tell Frankie what color the UHO was.”
“It was blue,” Frank stated.
I felt an extra-large poke in my back.
“Blue!” Mark said. “Imagine that, Frankie, a blue unidentified hovering object.”
I finally got it, and when I did, it was so hard not to smile.
“The unidentified object was only visible for approximately two seconds before it disappeared around the bend in the road. It was traveling at a very slow speed, which makes me think it was here on an observation mission.”
“Observation mission?” I asked.
Frank stopped talking and then looked around the room, to check if anyone was watching us, I presume. He leaned in conspiratorially. He was so close now and I could smell a strange smell coming off him, which if I’m not mistaken, was weed. This sort of explained a few things, although no drugs on the planet could explain, or excuse, yellow Crocs.
“Often the extraterrestrials will send a small recon craft first, for observation. Before they come.”
My eyes widened. I knew who this was now. I remember Mark telling me about him. This was microwave, conspiracy-theorist man. Mark poked me in the back again and I could see he was struggling to stifle his laughter.
“What do they come for?” I asked. “These extraterrestrials?”
“Shhhhh.” Frank raised his silver-gloved hand to his mouth and looked nervous. “I’ve said too much. I could put you in danger if you know their agenda.”
“Agenda?”
He nodded and then looked seriously nervous. “The less you know, the safer you are.” He gave me a strange little wink and then started backing away from us. “Welcome to Springdorp,” he said, still walking away from me.
“Thanks,” I nodded at him. He looked around the room once more, and then like he had rockets in his shoes, he turned and skidded away at speed.
I turned slowly and looked at Mark with wide eyes. “Well that was . . .” I stopped talking. I had no words really.
Mark nodded. “I know.” And then we looked at each other, smiles stretching across our faces and we both started laughing.
A loud throat-clear broke the moment. Samirah, Faizel and Harun were standing there. Samirah passed the dog leash over to me and I took it.
“I think you should get him out of here,” she said.
I looked to see who she was pointing at—it was poor Mrs. Marais.
“Okay,” I said to them all. I turned to go but Mark stopped me.
“Listen, I have a lot to do, so I’m not sure when I will be home. I don’t know if I’ll get to the cottage today, sorry. Do you think you can stay at Samirah’s one more night and