The Little Things

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(Author's Note - written for the #UltimateSFSD Round One, Part Two. Prompts were a garden gnome, a goldfish, and the hourglass. Word Count 998
This story is dedicated to Sal, and her entry for the competition, Beyond Our World)


I was ten when I realized my best friend Benji was an alien. And not the sort of alien who'd arrived in the country illegally, either, though he was probably that as well – no, by alien I mean a real alien, from outer space, perhaps another galaxy. Even at that age, I knew there was no life anywhere in our own solar system except, possibly, something microscopic.

The clues were little things to begin with, little things that made me curious. He didn't smell like any of us for starters. He said it was all the spices his Mum used in their stir-fries. It's true – I looked it up. You can smell like the food you eat if it's strong enough. That's why soldiers going undercover in foreign countries have to eat the local food first. And even I can tell when Dad has eaten his favourite Garlic Prawns the night before. But Benji didn't smell like any of those things. He just smelt – different. Nice enough, but different.

And he looked just a little bit different, too. Oh, nothing obvious of course, no tentacles or antennas on his head (though that would have been pretty cool) but his eyes were just a bit high and his nose a bit short and his mouth a bit wide. Mum said not to be silly when I mentioned it. She said we lived in a multi-cultural society and everyone looked a bit different from us. She said not to worry about it. Honestly, I wasn't worried, I was just curious.

Then there was the time we were walking home from school. Benji lived two houses away from me so we often walked home together. I can't remember why now, but for some reason, that day, we went a different way. We were joking around like normal when all of a sudden, he grabbed my arm and dragged me across to the other side of the street.

"Run!" he shouted.

Of course, I thought it was a trick. I dug in my heels and refused to move.

Except, when I turned to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing, I saw that his eyes were almost popping out of his head and his whole body was shaking.

"What on Earth's the matter?" I asked, my head swivelling in all directions to spot the source of danger.

"Don't you see them?"

"Where?"

"There! The-----" He pronounced something unintelligible. "They're killers!"

I looked everywhere but could see nothing out of the ordinary. A row of suburban houses with gardens in the front, an occasional car parked in a drive, but no people, no sign of anything that would scare somebody half to death.

"I still can't see what you mean."

He pointed with a trembling finger. I followed the line of sight and saw- Really? Garden gnomes? I didn't get it. I would have laughed except that I could tell he wasn't faking. Something about those harmless little statues had him scared out of his skull.

"We have to go. Now! They'll kill us!"

"They're not real," I said in a soothing voice. "They're just statues. Garden gnomes. People have them in their gardens for decoration."

Benji gave me a blank stare. "What?"

Suddenly, I thought I had the answer. "Is it like clowns?" I asked. "I know some people are terrified of clowns. There's a special word for it."

"Oh. Right." He calmed down somewhat, but he wouldn't walk past them again. We had to turn around and go the other way.

So that was all a bit weird, especially when every single garden gnome disappeared that night.

And then to top it off, he ate my pet goldfish at my birthday party. Swallowed it whole in one gulp. I stared, not knowing whether to be revolted or impressed. Luckily Dad had only just bought it for me so I hadn't had time to become attached.

"Sorry," he said, with a faint blush. "I thought that was part of the snacks."

Then he grinned. "You should see your face!"

I mean, sushi is one thing, but a live fish?

Of course, it occurred to me, that if Benji was an alien, then so were his parents. I was always very careful to be polite when I visited Benji at home. Though, rather to my disappointment, everything inside looked pretty ordinary, much like the furnishings we had at home, in fact. With one exception.

The door to his Dad's study was usually closed, but one day Benji went in, searching for superglue for our project, and I got a glimpse inside. In one corner stood an absolutely enormous hourglass, it almost touched the ceiling. However, the amazing thing about it was that the sand in the top was blue but the sand in the bottom was red. How did they do that? I could see the sand trickling down so I knew it was working and not glued shut.

"What's that?" I asked, filled with curiosity.

"It's a measure," Benji replied absently, hunting for the superglue.

"A measure of what?"

"Of how much longer before there are enough of us to-"

"Benji!" The loud voice from the doorway made us both jump.

"S-sorry, Dad!"

I stared at the hourglass. The blue section might be fuller but the red section was growing every second.

"So, we're the blue grains and you're the red?" I blurted, without thinking.

I looked from his Dad's grim expression to Benji's distressed face and swallowed.

"I won't tell anyone, I promise!" I uttered in a squeaky voice. "Who would believe me, anyway?"

Benji reached out and touched his Dad's arm lightly. "She's my friend, Dad."

I slept very uneasily that night.

I woke to discover that Benji's family had left town, packed up everything and disappeared.

I haven't seen them since, but I keep waiting. I wish I was better at maths!

How long will it take for those red grains to surpass the blue?

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