[Non-fiction] Left Behind by Niles Reddick

Left Behind

by Niles Reddick

            I know we live in a postmodern world, one that is 24–7, but I don’t believe humans are made to work all night long. I didn’t mind working in high school or college and paying my own way in the world, but I absolutely hated the 11:00 p.m.–7:00 a.m. shift. I downed rank coffee and smoked cigarettes, blue haze floating under fluorescent lights, and didn’t care that I reeked like a skunk. Because most normal people were asleep, I didn’t have a lot of interaction and focused on doing the books at the Air Force base office, where I made decent money for a college student. Though I never wanted to fly in one, I loved the F-4s and F-16s when they took off at night when they held mandatory exercises, fire shooting out of the back as they roared into the sky.

            When I got off work, I downed more coffee to stay awake through lectures at the university until lunch, my eyes bugging and my brain snoozing. I recall very little from those years in class even though I now teach classes (still have all my books, however). After lunch, I meandered my way to my apartment, crawled into my bed, into darkness, and slept as long as I could, waking when it was dark outside and the only people out roaming were those on drugs and alcohol, some up to no good or folks like me who had to work.

            One evening, I was on my way for the 11:00 p.m. shift at the base, driving through connecting neighborhood roads I’d driven since I could, and saw something odd hovering over a small Presbyterian church. I’d heard about UFOs, had watched TV programs about them, had heard relatives tell stories they’d heard or experienced, but I’d never actually seen one. When I reached the church, I pulled my black Volkswagen Scirocco with red vinyl seats and one windshield wiper off to the shoulder, got out, and gazed up. There was no sound emanating from the object, and lights circled it. I wondered if the mandala had something to do with religion, maybe a Damascus Road experience for me. I’d heard about abductions, how people reported being tested and having bits of metal inserted, maybe for tracking like humans do to animals, and how they were returned to their beds. It sounded strange to me, but I figured if the beings flying this craft could see me, maybe they would abduct me, take me off planet, and return me to write some incredible article or be their spokesperson to maybe tell the world. While I didn’t know how I’d explain not showing up to work or what my parents would think of my having disappeared and abandoned my car on the shoulder, I was willing to take the risk and go with them, despite the fact that I had never flown, except in a single-propeller Cessna with a friend around our county.

            It didn’t take long at all; the craft began slowly spinning like a top, like a car revving its engine at a red light, but soon enough, as if the light turned green, it shot upward and out of my sight completely—again, no noise. There was no contact, no messages. Part of me felt dejected, like I wasn’t good enough for the aliens. Maybe they knew I’d come from multigenerational poverty, maybe they knew I wasn’t as bright as I liked to tell people or act, or maybe they could read my pathetic genetic makeup. I’d felt as turned down as I had when I asked Stacy to be my date to a dance in high school and she said no, she hadn’t planned to go. It took some guts for me to call her out of the blue; she was a year younger than me, and I basically found her attractive. I didn’t actually know her, hadn’t had her in any class, just saw her in the hallway. I got her name from someone, called, introduced myself, and popped the question (I actually thought everyone knew me because I was popular, the editor of the yearbook, looked pretty good in my straight-legged Levi’s, plaid flannel shirts, my Goody comb sticking out of my back pocket, and my shoulder-length black hair). When she said no, I never got over it, just like I never got over not landing a lead role in one of the high school plays, not getting a job at the Holiday Inn (I had worked in a Days Inn and wanted to trade up like a car deal, from a Corolla to a Porsche), not getting an award for memorizing the books of the Bible in a drill at church, not being quick enough to get my ass into the empty chair in the musical chair game in kindergarten, not being seen in the magic mirror and having my named called out on the Romper Room television show.

Like a lot of my relatives, I was a grudge holder and think hell may be a continuous replay of the negative moments that burn and smolder us over and over. Years later, Stacy married a friend of mine, and we invited them for dinner. I fantasized asking her if she remembered saying no to me about the school dance, her having a vague recollection of it, and then me saying, “I bet now you wish you did,” but the idea seemed silly.

            After seeing the UFO, I drove onto the base. I asked the airman on gate duty that night who was in charge, and he told me Chief Miller. Even though he knew me, he had to verify my ID; the gate bar moved up, and I drove on to my office. I made a fresh pot of coffee when I got there, knowing Miller would stop by for a cup at some point in the night.

            When he came in and got a cup of coffee, he sat down, and I asked him, “Have you ever seen a UFO?”

            “Yes.”

            “Are they ours or from somewhere else?”

            “Both.”

            “Are they here on this base?”

            “No.”

            “So, if I saw one, I couldn’t tell if it was friend or foe?”

            “You couldn’t.”

            “When did you see a UFO?”

            “You can’t tell anyone this.”

            “I won’t.” (Now, if you’re reading this, you probably are thinking I broke my promise. You’re right. I’ve broken many promises through the years, but I would also tell you I have no recollection who Miller was first of all; secondly, that’s not his real name; third, he’s probably dead by now since he was old then; and fourth, I’m not giving away any top secret information since UFOs have been well documented on television: shows about UFOs; Roswell and other crashes in Missouri and Pennsylvania, Russia, and more; other places like Area 51 where alien technology was back engineered; and even contact by people and presidents like Eisenhower and sightings by other presidents like Reagan and Carter; and finally all sorts of historical accounts from Columbus, President Washington, Native Americans out West, folks during the Civil War in Louisiana, folks in Massachusetts, and many more.

            Miller continued, “When I was stationed as security police in California, we would drive up a hillside, park, and watch the runway open, and the UFOs shoot out and upward with no sound: zip, zip, zip. We didn’t ask questions, not that we’d get answers if we’d asked, but we knew better than to bring it up. In fact, underground facilities below the runway were rumored to house some aliens. One security officer thought he’d heard something, went in, and took the elevator down. Before he got back, there were unmarked black vehicles, guys in suits waiting, and he was removed. The next day, his family no longer lived in base housing. We don’t really know, but I suspect he was immediately relocated or put away somewhere.”

            “That’s wild and frightening.”

            “It’s all bizarre. Why did you ask to begin with?”

            “I saw one in town tonight hovering over a small church before it shot off into the sky.”

            “Probably surveillance. A scout. Probably gearing up, pulling energy from something.”

            “Strangest thing I’ve ever seen.”

            “I do think one day we’ll know more. The government will come clean. I think they believe verifying we are not alone will cause chaos. Maybe interfere with great religions of the world.”

            “I can see why.”

            “They’ll ease us into it over time.”

            My entire reality changed after Miller shared his experience. I felt my own experience was somehow verified. While I have never seen another one, I still look to the starlit sky at night and hope to see another.