[Cont.]
The paperback is titled Strange Beings Asleep in Meadows: A Romantic Comedy. And Anna and Monica and Fernando and I take turns reading it aloud to the weirdo creatures that we found in the trunk of our vehicle.
The place is here, the time is now. Extraterrestrials land on the globe that in their world is known as Earth. They seem to come in peace. Each individual alien is encased within a giant, long-legged space-pod that is equipped with powerful weaponry. Now all these foreign beings open the bubble helms of their warrior-suits (the leggy pods) and let themselves down to the soft grass of the rolling plains easily, by using a golden rope that has a hook on one end. As soon as the space-folk are all at ground level and vulnerably exposed to this newfangled planet’s atmosphere, they enter a state of deep repose — apparently the air here has a soporific effect on their constitution. Therefore the humans begin to herd them, since it is pleasantly non-labor-intensive. Basically, all a herdsman of strange beings must do is stand there and watch them snore. Actually, you don’t even need to remain on your feet: you could join them by collapsing in a heap on the grass, as long as you don’t pass out as well. For the one thing that a professional watchman should never do is stop watching. However, if you have learned the technique of dreaming in a way that your night-visions generate, partake in, and manipulate reality; in other words, if you can, while slumbering, hallucinate the exact same scene that you’re already starring in (thus, for instance, you dream that you’re wide-awake and active, because you’re sleepwalking and sleeptalking within the actual world while remaining fully non-conscious); then that counts as responsible herdsmanship as well. So this is what the four human stranger-watchers do, whose names are: Anna, Monica, Fernando, and Bryan.
(“Hey, the otherherdsmen share our names!” interjects Anna, Monica, Fernando, and I, in unison. Then we return to reading the story…)
The first group of strange alien creatures that the Watchers watch are the French Extraterrestrials and the Italian Extraterrestrials. They are very wild beings that have lampshades for heads and some material that looks like the silvered edges of an oversized volume of legal statutes in the place where their gills are. Herding these zanies, who are all fast asleep, is like a weekend celebration that’s filled with friends, fun and fireworks!
All of us herdsmen dream that we’re creeping from creature to creature and asking them friendly questions, like “What are you doing at present? – taking a fun trip to the lake?” And they do not answer telepathically but via the ordinary Earth-air, aloud — most of them say: “I am grilling in our backyard, dear Sir or Madam.” And we clarify, asking “Our backyard? Do you and I live together or something? I ask this because I assume that you are an extraterrestrial, which by definition would preclude our sharing a homestead, since I am an earthling who is only moonlighting as an herdsman.” And each individual French or Italian alien answers clearly, in their weird language that is somehow easy to intuit the meaning of — they each reply some version of the following: “Wherever you are (or want to be), together we can find a little slice of paradise this summer.”
Thus ends the chapter titled “Griller’s Utopia, or: The Lake Cabin”.
§
Next, we watch over the flocks of strange beings from out of this world who call themselves “Persons from Lisbon and from Eagan”. (“Wow, weird!” say Monica and Anna. “I know,” I reply; “now, shh! let’s see what happens in the story...”)
The Lisbon-Eagan Extraterrestrials are very well behaved. One might not even notice that they are infesting the peaceful hillocks of the green landscape, if one hadn’t been told to look carefully so as to avoid treading on them. All of us watchers stand with our herdsman’s crooks and our tough-love rods atop the most average-sized hillock and try to remain awake. First I yawn, then Anna yawns, then Monica yawns, and lastly Fernando yawns.
“Let us go down and mingle with the public,” I suggest to my friends; “for that might help us to avoid the catastrophe of falling asleep on the job.”
“This doesn’t feel like work,” remarks Monica; “this is fun.”
“Yeah,” sez Anna.
I exchange a look with Fernando, and we all head over into the valley of the Weirdos from Hell. (That’s the pet name that we’ve taken to calling our new herd of livestock — we’re just trying to be funny.)
I approach one of the slimy reptilian goofballs and tap its shoulder. When it looks up with an eager expression of Minnesota Niceness, I say in my salesperson-voice: “The summer is fully upon us! What better way to enjoy the warmer weather than by kicking back and relaxing with a cold drink!”
And the strange creature answers in a plugged, husky tone: “I don’t imbibe.”
Then I try to keep my smile up while I think for a while about something else to try to sell. Finally I break the awkwardness of the moment by motioning toward Fernando to come help me deal with this situation, which he has overheard because he was standing about the length of a Brazilian Lady Café away. And Fernando steps forward and faces the same weird slimy alien that I was just addressing, and he sez: “How about enjoying your favorite book or whatever other hobby you indulge in to pass the time?” This causes the self-styled Eaganite Extraterrestrial to perk up, and it responds enthusiastically: “I could clear out the clutter from my house!” This causes Fernando and I to stand expectantly with frozen smiles; then I ask: “Your house has a lot of clutter?” “Oh, yes,” sez the being.
Fernando now comes to my rescue again — apparently this subject inspires him. He improvises a good sales-pitch, saying with confidence: “No matter whether it comes from fallen tree branches, an abundance of toys or some poorly planned landscaping, clutter is a major enemy of relaxation. I suggest clearing out every space that isn’t creating happiness for you.”
The Eagan Alien nods in agreement.
“Then can I get you started on a payment plan for a happy family and some houseguests?” Fernando goes in for the sale.
The Eagan Alien signs the paperwork.
Fernando and I now shuffle over to see what Anna and Monica are doing. They’ve apparently found a stockpile of old supplies from the U.S. military. Anna is addressing one of the Lisbon Extraterrestrials, who seems to be taking interest in her speech:
“One of the major perks of what I’m vending,” Anna sez, “is the ability to relax away from everybody else. Why not try to envision a special zone where you can be alone? You can use your advanced intellect to build a mental space, and call it ‘The Alone Zone’. (Don’t you like that?) Consider creating a secluded area using fences, walls, razor wire, and abandoned vehicles to virtually actualize your own special space.”
Fernando adds: “You’ll also need a place to sit.”
I pat my friend on the shoulder and mouth the words “That was good!” in reference to his ad-lib, when he turns to look at me. “Thanks,” he nods back in English.
Then Anna winks to the two of us and smiles and recommences addressing the alien perched there on the grass, picking up where Fernando left off:
“You weren’t going to remain on the ground, were you? If you take a bit of time to find the right kind of ceiling, or even an overturned safety net painted the color of Hollywood Sky, you might find yourself gravitating upward into comfort. You could call the heavens ‘My backyard’. (You might even decide to grill there!) And while a high-quality stadium-seating setup may cost more than it’s worth, it’s likely to last longer than a chocolate kiss while creating its own return on investment by offering the implication of ever-impending vaudevillian distraction.”
“Plus you’ll gain respite from the sun,” Monica now appears holding a spear and covered from head to toe in dark bronze bodypaint — we all note that this is exactly the outfit she wore at the end of our book after assassinating God. “If you’re headed outside to relax,” she sez, “you’ll want to get a little protection from the light beams, for sunshine is a dangerous carcinogen. Research whether you can build one of the many trendy shade-providing structures available to homeowners today, such as a gazebo, pergola, or even an awning. Failing that, at least an outdoor umbrella or a bit of smart landscaping can steer you clear from the rays of pure evil, such as Bryan Ray here. (That’s just a joke: it’s a pun on his last name — Bryan’s actually our friend.)” Monica playfully nudges me with her spear. “Time to break out the icy drinks!”
The extraterrestrial version of absinthe is now served on a small table, and we all sip and chat about what gives us pleasure. Even the strange beings from otherworldly Lisbon and Eagan agree that we’ve created for them “an outer-space den of sin” (their phrase, not mine — and they mean this as a compliment, as far as we can tell). So it turns out that, in addition to being the universe’s finest shepherds, goatherds, swineherds, and neatherds, the four of us draw up for ourselves a certification from the Global Alien Government declaring that we are now also officially passable otherherds.
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