MISADVENTURES OF AN ALIEN(ATED) LANGUAGE TEACHER

Part 10

PART 10

With my mum's money, I survived for a while, and in that time, I learned a lot about humans. When her money ran out, I did all sorts of odd jobs to support myself, but also to experience human contact. Little by little I developed the personal theory that all the conflicts, violence and bad blood among humans were due principally to misunderstanding. This led me to consider a career in communication, and since the way in which humans interact is chiefly through the use of language, I decided to pursue language teaching.

When I started my language teacher training course, I loved it. Not only that, it was the first time in my life that I was good at something! I had finally found my call in life! I graduated with honours, not that it mattered to my parents that would despise a degree in language teaching and had probably forgotten about me altogether. But even if they were not proud of me, I was proud of myself, and that was more than enough. Very soon, I started teaching and became besotted with the profession. I wouldn't change it for anything, I was born for this.

So, that's how an alien becomes a language teacher, in case you were wondering about it.

But now, lying on the ground of this unknown park, under this beautiful tree, I felt a twinge in my heart, for I suspected my teaching days were over.

I used my right elbow to prop myself up, and I managed to get to a sitting position, my back against the trunk of the tree. I sighed a deep sigh. How had all gone to hell in just one day? How had the alien secret police found me and ruined my life? I had been careful! All right, no I hadn't. I remembered my list of five mistakes. So, it was not the human secret police's attention I had attracted. My people had only used Carter and his fellows to entrap me.

Carter had said that they had orders not to touch me, that I was protected. At first, I had thought that it was pure crap, but now I understood: nothing would happen to me if I didn't cooperate, if I passed the loyalty test. That is, nothing more serious than some emotional and physical discomfort. That was why they had freaked out when they thought I was going to die on them, and had tried the electroshocks. How ironic it all was: the alien secret police had ordered the human secret police to protect an alien threat which was right under their noses without their knowledge, and I was protected as long as I made the human secret agents' life difficult. If only I had recognized the test earlier! Now, there would be no more protection for me: I had unwittingly gone from a mere nuisance to a traitor in a matter of minutes, and my people were not going to let that pass. Damn it! I wish I had seen it sooner! Now it was too late.

So, now what? I couldn't return home, I couldn't contact my friends, colleagues or even students. The alien secret agents are very thorough, and they would all be under surveillance. I had escaped with only my clothes on, so I didn't have any money or credit cards or even a phone... I was alone and helpless in the world. It was banishment day all over again, and I felt like crying. This time, I didn't refrain myself, I let my tears flow freely down my face. My wiser selves kept respectfully silent and let me unburden my affliction in peace. I cried for a long time, disconsolately.

"Are you all right?"

It was a deep male voice. I raised my head and saw Benedict Cumberbatch in front of me. Well, no, it was not really him, but someone who resembled him exactly. I stared at him, half expecting him to introduce himself as Sherlock Holmes, or to say something like "Dormammu, I've come to bargain", but he just looked at me with tantalizing inquiring blue eyes. When I finally broke up from the spell of those eyes, I said:

"I'm not really OK. I need to contact my aunt to pick me up. Do you have a phone I could borrow for a quick call?"

"Certainly" he said, and handed me his phone.

Yes, he was cute, polite, kind-hearted and helpful. That's the thing my people cannot see: with all their troubles and conflicts, humans are basically compassionate, and they can show it if you give them the chance.

I took the phone and punched the number I had committed to memory all those years ago, the number that was in the paper my mum had given me to contact my aunt Flora. Would it be valid after all these years? I would soon find out.