The Alien in the Garage and Other Stories

BOOK: The Alien in the Garage and Other Stories
10.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

THE

ALIEN

IN THE

GARAGE

AND OTHER STORIES

THE

ALIEN

IN THE

GARAGE

AND OTHER STORIES

ROB KEELEY

Copyright © 2011 Rob Keeley

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study,
or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents
Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in
any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers,
or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with
the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries
concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

Matador
5 Weir Road
Kibworth Beauchamp
Leicester LE8 0LQ, UK
Tel: (+44) 116 279 2299
Fax: (+44) 116 279 2277
Email:
[email protected]
Web:
www.troubador.co.uk/matador

ISBN 978 1848765 795

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Typeset in 11pt Book Antiqua by Troubador Publishing Ltd, Leicester, UK

Matador
is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd

For Mum and Dad

The Alien in the Garage

“Neil!”

Neil groaned as he heard the loud, shrill voice.

The living room door opened. Jamie's round, freckled face appeared.

“Where's the biscuits?”

“The tin's on the top shelf.” Neil struggled to balance the guitar he was holding, trying to find a comfortable position on the sofa. “Where it always is.”

“I can't reach it!” Jamie whined.

Neil rolled his eyes. He put the guitar down.

“I'm trying to practise, Jamie!” He got up and followed his little brother into the kitchen. “What do you want them for, anyway? Mum's going to be home soon, we're going to have our tea.”

He moved to the shelves.

“I want them for the alien!”

Neil stopped suddenly. He stared at Jamie.

“You what?”

“The alien!” Jamie repeated determinedly. “The alien in the garage.”

“The alien.” Annoyed as he was to be interrupted, Neil felt the corner of his mouth begin to twitch. “There's an alien. In our garage?”


Yeah
!” Jamie's face set in a frown, as if it were obvious. “He's waiting for a spaceship to pick him up.”

Neil was definitely smirking now.

“And he wants custard creams?” He reached up for the biscuit tin.

“He's hungry!” Jamie insisted.

“OK.” Neil handed the tin to Jamie with a grin. “So we've got an alien out there now? The dragon's gone, has he?”

“The dragon was
weeks
ago!” Jamie took the tin firmly. “I've been looking after the alien all week.”

“Go on then, mate.” Neil ruffled Jamie's hair, knowing his brother hated it when people did that. “Take the alien his biscuits.”

“Ta.” Jamie opened the back door and disappeared.

Smiling to himself, Neil returned to the living room.

Jamie was getting worse. The dragon had only been the last. A month ago, Jamie had said there was a spaceman in hiswardrobe. Then there had been the fairy princess at the bottom of the garden. And last Christmas, Santa Claus had gotstuck on the roof.

What was it with kids now? Neil was sure
he
hadn't been like that.

Anyway.

Neil took up the guitar again and began.

Two chords later, the door reopened.

“Neil!”

“What.” Neil turned to Jamie, tight-lipped.

“Can I have some cushions?”

“Cushions?” repeated Neil.

“For the alien!” Jamie asked. “I've only got that old armchair out there. It'd be so much more comfy for him.”

“For Pete's sake!” Neil grabbed two cushions from the other end of the sofa and hurled them at Jamie. “I've got to learn this piece, Jamie! I'm getting tested tonight. I can't go on playing the same five chords forever.”

“He's got to get some sleep,” Jamie protested. “He's got a long journey later.”

“On the spaceship?” Neil asked wearily.

Jamie nodded solemnly.

“His planet's light years away from Earth.”

“Go on.” Neil grabbed another cushion from the adjacent chair and chucked it at his brother. “Get back to him. It. Whatever. And let me get on!”

“Ta.” Half-hidden behind the pile, Jamie hurried back to the door and was gone.

Neil shook his head.

Soon, Jamie would have enough furniture out there to set up house on his own.

It wasn't that Neil minded his little brother building a den. In fact, Neil remembered, he'd had one himself a few years ago. Since they'd got rid of the car, the garage had only been used for storage, and it had a window, and another exit out of the back that was never locked, in the daytime. It was a perfectly safe place for Jamie to play.

But why did Jamie have to fill it with all these crazy made-up creatures?

It wouldn't have been so bad if he didn't use them as an excuse to get whatever he wanted out there. On his birthday, he'd asked for a TV/DVD player, so he could watch telly in the garage with the dragon. And he'd been given one. Now, he wanted the whole tin of biscuits, and half the living room cushions, for an alien.

At least the alien was leaving tonight.

Neil shuddered suddenly. What alien?

He was getting as bad as Jamie.

Trying to get aliens out of his head, he returned to guitar practice

E minor. OK.

He plucked a chord.

“NEIL!”

Neil shot to his feet with an exclamation a lot worse than “For Pete's sake!” The guitar went flying and hit the floor with a loud
clonk!

“That's rude,” said Jamie. “Can I borrow your
Space Exploration
DVD? I thought it might be useful for him. And I'll take some magazines.”

“Right!” Neil leapt for the coffee table, grabbed every magazine in sight and started to bombard his little brother with them.

“I thought he could learn something about Earth from them,” Jamie explained. “And if I can have the TV paper, we can see what's on…”

“Oh,
shut up
, will you!” Neil glowered at Jamie. “Look, Jamie, we all know you've got a den out there! You don't need to make up all these stories!”

“What stories?” Jamie looked hurt.

“Oh, go on.” Neil picked up his guitar and sat down. “Go on. Get out. And just… leave it for a bit, will you? Give me a break.”

Quietly, Jamie left the room. His eyes looked big and sad.

Neil sat down again, and took a long, deep breath.

He felt rotten now. But Jamie really could drive you round the bend at times.

He returned, as best he could, to his music.

Aliens! Honestly.

Carrying the magazines carefully, Jamie walked up the little path from the back door, and opened the rear door of the garage.

The alien was inside, with his feet up on the table, on a cushion, on a pile of boxes, and on another old chair. Four pairs of feet in total. He had a custard cream in one hand, a can of orangeade in the other, and a street map in the other. One of his heads was reading the street map, and the other was watching Jamie's television.

He sat there, a magnificent creature in dark purple, his eight legs half-filling the small garage. He looked, to Jamie, like a cross between a tarantula and a gigantic plum.

Both heads and all four mouths smiled at Jamie as he entered.

“Weghfyytyfhfhfsijjgiorjiogjjgfijgijgijgirjigjrijgiirjgi jrigjijigjierjg…”

“I can't understand you.” Jamie put the magazines down on an old coffee table that stood in front of the alien's battered armchair. “Can you put the translator thingie on again please?”

The alien put the street map down, and reached for a nodule on one of his necks. He gave it a tweak.

“Sorry, mate,” said the first mouth. “I forgot to readjust to Earth language, like. Know what I mean?”

“I got you the magazines,” Jamie said. “I couldn't get the DVD, sorry, it's in my brother's room. He's OK. He just doesn't understand about you.”

“Not many would, like,” the alien answered. “That's why I was glad to meet you, mate.”

“Good job you crashed in our back garden,” Jamie went on. “And good job the dragon had already gone. Else you'd have had to sleep in the shed instead. And it's so cold out there.”

“You were cool.” The alien gave Jamie four grins.

“What did you do with the escape pod, by the way?” Jamie asked.

In answer, the alien held up a small, plastic ball.

“I used the miniaturisation function. It can't be used for space travel again, like.” He held it out in his third hand to Jamie. “I thought you might like it as a goodbye present.”

“Ooh, thanks.” Jamie took it smilingly. “It'll do to keep my pencil sharpener in. For school.”

“I'll be out of your hair by midnight,” the alien continued. “The mothership's going to pick me up outside the greengrocer's.”

“That's not far.” Jamie nodded.

“All I need to do is teleport over there,” the alien finished. “And I've got the energy to do that now. Thanks to you.”

He popped the last of the custard cream into his third mouth, and his fourth finished the orangeade.

“Your Earth foods are so good.”

“Soon be goodbye, then,” Jamie said, sadly. He went over to the alien and they put all their arms round each other.

“I'll call again,” the alien said. “And maybe bring one of my mates. This is such a cool planet. Even if you do all look kind of strange.”

Five minutes later, Neil and Jamie's Mum arrived home. And fifteen minutes after that, she had the boys' tea ready.

“Don't forget your guitar lesson,” she told Neil.

“I've been practising.” Neil pulled a face. “Think I'm getting the hang of it now.”

“And what have
you
been up to?” Mum placed a plate of pasta bake before Jamie.

“Oh, he's been out in the garage.” The smirk returned to Neil's face. “Visiting the alien.”

“Oh, I heard about him.” Mum smiled. “Does the alien want some tea, as well, then?” she asked Jamie.

Jamie shook his head.

“No, thank you. He only needs one meal a day.”

“He likes the odd biscuit, though,” Neil added.

“Now, that'll do,” Mum said. “Stop teasing your brother.”

“He's going tonight,” Jamie said. “I'm going to miss him. I'll be in bed when he leaves.”

“Oh, dear.” Mum smiled.

“Who's coming next then?” Neil asked, grinning.

“I don't know.” Jamie frowned. “I got a call from a magic rabbit… but then I've got the unicorn to fit in. I'll have to thinkabout it.”

He took a thoughtful mouthful of pasta.

“That's the trouble, you see. With having so many friends.”

Other books

Truth Engine by James Axler
Timberwolf Hunt by Sigmund Brouwer
Buried Caesars by Stuart M. Kaminsky
The Soccer War by Ryszard Kapuscinski
Card Sharks by Liz Maverick
Chain of Command by Helenkay Dimon
Quinn by Sally Mandel
Operation Desolation by Mark Russinovich
Playing with Fire by Amy Knupp