h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Chapter One

 Matilda and the Magnets: Across the Milky Way and Beyond
by
Dianne Bachelor

With a loud CRASH, the lead crystal lamp collided with the
wall at maximum hand-thrown velocity and smashed into a million
pieces. Meleenia fingered a matching wine goblet before hurling
it against the opposite wall. The red claret that had previously
occupied the goblet now ran down the wall like the tears she had
shed all morning ran down her face. Between the tears she
delighted in the breaky noises.
She picked up the note Rek had left on his pillow and read
it one last time before she set fire to it and dropped it into
the waste can. Shards of glass, disheveled bedding, and empty
pizza boxes lay strewn about the room like some half-crazed, make
that fully-crazed, Tasmanian devil had ripped through searching
out a fine dining experience gone horribly wrong. As Meleenia
looked around the room for something else to destroy, she came to
the startling realization that there was nothing breakable left.
At least, there was nothing left that she could break with her
bare hands. An axe, if only she had an axe. Meleenia suddenly
felt a little guilty. Never before had she damaged so much
property that she didn’t own. Then she felt more than a little
guilty. She decided that never again would any man have this
much power over her. It was bad enough she had cried in front of
him, damn it, that’s what p****d her off so much, she had cried
and he had just left like a thief in the night. He waited until
she fell asleep so he could sneak out wouldn’t have to deal with
her. She studied her face in the mirror, freshened her lipstick,
applied concealer under her eyes and powdered her nose.
Satisfied that she no longer looked as if she had been crying,
she picked up the chair in front of the vanity and heaved it into
the mirror. The mirror splintered, fragmenting her reflection as
she admired her handiwork.
“I’m done,” Meleenia said aloud to no one in particular,
prone to talking to herself in times of emotional stress. She
swung her backpack over her shoulder and picked up her satchel.
Outside the room, a security guard waited next to the maid who
had first reported the disturbance on the fifth floor. They
watched as Meleenia walked past them and pushed the button for
the elevator. The maid jabbed the security guard, prodding him
to go after her.
“I ain’t goin’ near her, she’s crazy,” he whispered, trying to fade back against the wall lest she hear him.
Meleenia glanced over at them and smiled, humming as she
waited for the elevator. She managed to reach the front desk
without destroying any more hotel property.
“Excuse me,” she said to the concierge, “I did some damage
to my room upstairs, room 504. I think this will cover it.” She
left an envelope on the desk, walked out the front door, and
hailed a taxi.
***

Meleenia’s hand deftly knocked over the glass that had previously, that is before she drank it, been entirely content being a glass. As it shattered on the cement walk under the café table, it’s only thought was, oh man, not me. The waitress came around again and stopped at Meleenia’s table. She noted the broken glass and motioned to the bus boy for a clean up, and an entirely different motion to the bouncer standing near the front door. Incidentally, both shared the same thoughts as the glass; the bus boy for having been privy to a previous clean up courtesy of Meleenia whose stomach had a less than platonic relationship with alcohol, and the bouncer for much the same reason during a routine taxi call and subsequent transportation of said woman into said transport device. Meleenia ordered a drink then stopped mid syllable, unable to remember where she was or what she was doing. All too quickly she realized she was not at the spa on the planet Summit, but on a small, blue-green planet, third from its sun in the Milky Way Galaxy. The air was thin and polluted, or the air was thin and she was polluted, she couldn't remember which. The noise of small people with nothing better to do than talk small filled the smoke-filled air. Business people flocked around the bar in some weird ritualistic dance of mating that Meleenia had not been able to figure out in the year she’d been stranded on Earth. She had truly believed Rek, ex-boyfriend, ex-manager, ex-lover, ex-everything was going to return in a day or two, pick her up and beg her forgiveness. She was wrong. One year later she sat in a bar, no more than two blocks from hotel room 504, drinking a beer, and entertaining her friends with drunken stories of life in “outer space” as they called it. And, as it seemed, she was about to be politely asked to leave. Meleenia had little metabolic tolerance for Earth’s alcoholic beverages, and would usually find herself completely plastered after only three drinks. She rarely . . . well, to be truthful, occasionally . . . well, to be entirely truthful, whenever the occasion presented itself . . . she drank fairly often. But today, she had calculated, would have been her birthday. By Earth years, she was twenty-four, and that was occasion enough for her.
"Anything else, ladies?" the waitress asked.
"Another beer," Meleenia stated to say, or more accurately, slur.
The waitress looked over at Meleenia's two companions for confirmation.
They shook their heads side to side in the way that two well meaning friends will do when they know that their companion is too drunk to get angry, and the waitress turned and walked away. Impala and Fagan were the only two friends that Meleenia had made since she was stranded on Earth. They were the only people she had met who had even listened to her stories, and the only ones who hadn’t given her that look. “That look” she would so-often get from so-called friends just before they excused themselves to go to the bathroom, never to reappear again. Meleenia had gotten “that look” a lot. She knew what it meant, and learned not to discuss anything that remotely referred to her home planet, or her life before she came to Earth. She had kept most of her previous life a heavily guarded secret, the only key to that lock being a double martini followed by a kamikaze chaser.
Meleenia met Fagan a couple of weeks after Rek left her. Fagan walked into a bar where Meleenia was engaged in a conversation with a tall, good-looking, gin and tonic next to a large, hairy man, who, in his drunken stupor, mistakenly assumed that her plaintive mumblings were aimed at him. He leaned his body up against her and began licking her ear. In shock, Meleenia turned and elbowed him in the stomach. The man, although somewhat offended and confused, put his arm around her, and whispered his version of love potion number nine into her ear. Fagan stepped in between the two and demanded that the gentleman leave Meleenia alone. Although shorter and smaller than both of them, her voice commanded authority. He laughed at her but obeyed, stumbling off to bother someone else. That night, after hearing her story, Fagan offered Meleenia a place to stay and a job at her temporary employment agency. Impala was Fagan’s friend. Their friendship dated back to their early teenage years but anyone who knew the three would have thought there was no difference in how long they had known each other. They were more like sisters than friends, finishing each other’s thoughts and occasionally sharing each other’s men. Fagan and Meleenia frowned on the latter, but it was impossible to control Impala, and it was a way to weed out the duds. The three had become close friends, more because of their eccentricities than in spite of them. They all had a penchant for adventure, love and danger. They thrilled in the chase of an ideal, and never backed down from a fight. Most important, Fagan and Impala thought Meleenia was certifiably insane.
"Let's get off this nowhere planet. There are more interesting places to be," Meleenia shouted above the din of conversing people.
"Oh, no, here she goes again," Impala said to Fagan. "Let's get her out of here before the bouncer gets here."
Fagan and Impala gathered up Meleenia and started her toward the door. Meleenia staggered and shook off her companion's help.
"I can do it myself," she said. Damn it, Meleenia thought, this happens every time I start thinking about Rek. Rek, this is all his fault, she continued thinking as she staggered out the door onto the sidewalk. The exhaust fumes from the cars choked Meleenia and she swore she felt a few more brain cells die. In general, she was miserable. Earth was the armpit of the Universe, its people fighting amongst themselves over a minuscule amount of polluted, trashed, disgusting soil stripped of almost all its natural resources. Meleenia wondered if Earthlings would ever wise up and stop trying to control a thing that is beyond control. It all leads back to Rek again, controlling b*****d. He was still controlling her, from wherever he was.
Impala and Fagan rarely knew what to make of Meleenia. They knew every time she got drunk it was only a matter of time before she would have an outburst concerning space travel or her ex-boyfriend Rek. Once out in the street they followed Meleenia at a safe distance - close enough to catch her if she fell and far enough away that they could deny they knew her if she did anything embarrassing.
Meleenia reviewed her options as they walked. The only two friends she had made on this pathetic little planet had never believed that she was not from anywhere on it. And sometimes she even began to doubt herself. Even after all this time, she hadn’t gotten over Rek. She still though about him almost constantly, sometimes plotting her revenge, sometimes plotting the big reunion. Sometimes she wondered if he had been killed in some tragic accident and maybe that’s why he never came back. Sometimes she wished some tragic accident on him, it would be easier to accept than what really happened the night before she awakened next to the note on his pillow.
All Meleenia had wanted was to give up her career. She was in her own circles and by Earth standards, a celebrity. Weary of fame and the constant rigors of living in the public life, she decided to quit. She was tired of parties and concerts and appearances, and, God, of just everything that her life was about. It was all too much, she was exhausted, the lines under her eyes were proof enough of that. It just wasn’t fun anymore to sing and play music, to entertain the masses. All she wanted was a life of her own, for her and Rek. It wasn’t as if they would have to live in poverty, they both had plenty of money to live out their lives in luxury. Maybe she should have consulted him before she made the announcement at her last concert. He thought at the time that it was a terrific publicity stunt, and didn’t think she was serious. When she brought it up that night though, the night he left, he finally payed attention. He thought he knew what was best for her, patronized her, cajoled her, until she ultimately blew up and demanded that he take her seriously. He took her seriously, at long last, and they argued until neither of them could stay awake. Meleenia lay in bed with her back to him all night. She never even felt him get up and leave. She never thought he would do that to her, leave in the middle of an argument. But then, he never did finish anything, always left it for her or one of his toadies.
“Meleenia, what is that?” Fagan asked, waking Meleenia from her self induced trance.
A faint beeping emanated from Meleenia’s purse, the sound of which stopped her dead in her tracks.
"What is it?" Fagan asked, again.
"My ticket home!" shouted Meleenia. She dug through her purse and pulled out a small black box that looked almost, but not quite, unlike any pager Fagan and Impala had ever seen.
"Tell me what the hell that is!" demanded Fagan, with the first gentle misgivings that perhaps Meleenia wasn't a compulsive liar after all.
"This is the proof that you both have been waiting for," said Meleenia. "This is my ticket home, or at least far, far away from here. Hurry! It could be Rek!"
Fagan, Meleenia and Impala ran for the car. Fagan jumped in the driver's side and scrambled to unlock the doors for Meleenia and Impala. "Where to Mel?"
"Head north. I’ll give you directions along the way."
After driving for over an hour, Fagan began to think she was crazy for listening to Meleenia. Then, the beeping grew louder and faster and Meleenia became more excited.
"Stop the car!"
The car halted deep in a forest. Fagan had lost her direction a while back and was disoriented. They all got out of the car and walked into the woods. After a short time they came to a clearing and there stood a very large, very impressive, and very much real, space ship. It was round with lots of lights and windows and lots of little grayish, biped type aliens with great big slanted eyes on enormous heads walking around it.
Meleenia motioned for Fagan and Impala to crouch down in the bushes. "Okay, now do you believe me? I am NOT from here. I’m from a small planet called Cornelio in a distant solar system. I have to leave, to go home. I’ll try to make arrangements for all of us to go, if you want,” she paused, “if not, I'll understand. I can't promise I'll ever be able to get you back to Earth." Meleenia looked at her two friends, realizing for the first time, how close they had become, and how much she would miss them if they decided not to leave with her.
"I'm in," said Impala. She didn't have to think. She rarely did.
Fagan suddenly realized that Meleenia was not crazy. “Sure, Meleenia, I can’t wait for my first ride in a flying saucer. By the way,” Fagan kept nodding with a blankish stare as she watched the aliens before her, “are Martians green or red?” Then she looked down to consult her appointment book for the number of her psychiatrist.
“Fagan, life on Mars cannot possibly be sustained, even underground. Give me a minute while I make the arrangements.”
Meleenia slowly approached one of the grayish bipeds who looked as if he knew exactly what was going on. Well, at least he had a clipboard. They spoke for a few minutes and he began to smile. She pointed over toward the bushes where Impala was waiting and Fagan was talking on her portable phone to her psychiatrist. Finally the grayish biped smiled broadly and nodded.
Meleenia started back toward her friends and motioned for them to join her. Impala and Fagan slowly stepped out from the woods. All eyes were upon them. The creature to whom Meleenia had spoken barked out an order and the other creatures went back to work, sneaking glances at regular intervals, though trying not to look as though they were being rude.
The lead creature shook hands with Impala and then with Fagan. Impala smiled, "Pleased to meet you," she said as she offered him her hand. The grey biped smiled again as he took her hand, and looked directly into her breasts, which were quite large and impressive, and at exactly his eye level.
"And I, pleased to make your acquaintance, as well. I Gogven from Navroth. You Earthling, not worry, taking flora and soil samples for my laboratory. Learn what not to do," Gogven said in a high-pitched squeal. He let out a small chuckle as did many of the nearby creatures. Fagan smiled and offered her hand as well, timidly shaking hands with the alien.
Fagan was still in disbelief. I touched him. Hallucinations don't have bumpy, grey skin, neither do dreams which must mean this is a real . . . no . . . it couldn't be. Fagan retreated into her denial where she could be safe and happy and she wouldn't have to deal with any of this until she woke up.
The interior of the spaceship resembled what one would expect to see upon entering the interior of a grain elevator, except for the grain and the elevator. The material used for construction was clearly metallic, in a plastic sort of way. Fagan stood and stared not quite being able to perceive the vastness of the entry bay. There were aliens everywhere, performing experiments, loading specimens of plants and water samples, and checking off things on electronic clipboards.
After Fagan, Impala and Meleenia were duly "checked off," they were led to a cramped stateroom. The ship had obviously been built specifically for the little creatures who were now transporting the two earthlings and one Cornelian to the far reaches of the galaxy.
Fagan reclined on one of the bunks, her feet hanging off the end from about the knees. Impala sat on the bed opposite her, and banged her head on the bunk above. Meleenia leaned against the wall with her arms folded.
"Mel," said Fagan, just gaining her senses enough to speak, "I have a million questions about what the hell is going on, but the most pressing at the moment is, where the hell are we going?"
"A planet named Tookany. It’s a small planet, a few thousand light years away. It's very nice, lots of trees, grass, small creeks, birds, intimate coves where two people who had a mind to could take off all their clothes and do the wild thing over and over and over . . . "
"Mel!" Fagan interrupted, "snap out of it!"
"Oh, sorry," Meleenia said. Meleenia pushed away the thoughts that crowded her mind.
"How long will it take to get there?” Impala asked, “And what are we going to do once we do get there?"
"We'll be there by morning, and we will party till we drop," Meleenia smiled. "Then, we set out on a long explore, for the rest of our lives."
The ship began to hum, a kind of low ominous hum, the kind that generally suggested something was about to happen.
"I don't feel so well," Impala said dismally as she turned a lovely shade of chartreuse.
"Hold on Impala. It will only last a few minutes."
The ship began to move, and the feeling of taking off was quite an experience for Impala of the weak stomach and tiny bladder.
"Where's the bathroom?" Impala asked. She hit her head in the doorway on the way out.

If you like it, send me an e-mail and I might send some more if you complement me nicely enough (just a "hey-that was pretty good" should more than do it.) Does it make you want more?