I was returning from my fishing trip. The wet early spring snow squelched under my boots. It was a typical shitty late winter of northern Ukraine, when it could not decide whether to rain or to snow. Despite many hours spent on the lake, all I had with me were three lonely perches. I caught four today, but one was so small, I threw it back into the water.
Petro’s house stood on the outskirts, cut off from the town by a deep ravine. And because of it, from here, you could hardly tell you’re actually entering the town. I approached his house and slowly opened the gates, as slowly as possible, so as not to be surprised by the sudden jump of Petro’s old dog. But instead, I was met with total silence. “Did the old hound perish already?” I thought to myself as I entered the gates.
I made a few steps and stopped. A broken chain laid flat near the old doghouse. No sounds of crickets, people, or other living beings. The only sound I heard was the low whistling of the night wind.
— Hey, neighbours! Are you open for guests?
Silence.
I knocked on the house doors and listened. It seemed as if someone was on the other side. Breathing.
— Petro, is that you?
Breathing stopped. A familiar voice called from the inside:
— Who’s there?!
— It’s me, Sania! Who else would it be?!
— Sania… — repeated he calmly — Of course, because I’m so easy to manipulate. Hey, “Sania”! Curse!
— What? — I said in confusion.
— I said curse! As bad as you can!
— Are you fucking stupid? Did you drink away the last of your brain cells? Who the hell do you think you are, why would anyone come to this shithole you live in and pretend to be your friend?!
I was ready to turn away in frustration and go home, but suddenly the door creaked, and Petro’s whisper called to me:
— Come inside. Hurry, hurry!
I made a step forward, but impatient Petro grabbed me by the jacket and pulled me inside. The whole house reeked of alcohol. He quickly locked the door behind my back.
— What the fuck is wrong with you? — I asked angrily. — How long have you been drinking? And where’s your wife?
— Wife?.. — said Petro. — She left me. Took our kids and moved out to her mother.
— Oh… — suddenly, the reason for Petro’s drunken state became clearer to me. — I was going home from fishing. I thought, why not visit my old friend? But, to be honest, I probably had the worst luck of my life.
— Want a sleepover? — Asked Petro. Even in this drunken state, he understood everything without a hint.
— Well, I… — I felt a little embarrassed. — The next train will only be in the morning, and otherwise I’ll need to walk a whole hour through the night…
— Okay, okay, don’t worry, — interrupted me Petro and walked inside the house. I wanted to follow him, but a rush of pain went through my body as I hit something with my leg.
— Shit! Turn the fucking lights on!
It’s just now that I noticed that no lights in the house were on.
— Okay, okay, — mumbled Petro. — Let me light up some candles.
— What happened? Did the wind cut your wires? But I don’t remember any strong winds…
Petro ignored me and just lit a cadle. In the dim red light, I finally saw the owner of the house. And I can’t say I liked what I saw. He looked like a caveman, or a hobo who hasn’t had a proper sleep in weeks. The interior of the house wasn’t much better. All the windows were barred with whatever he could find inside, and the rooms were a complete mess with stuff thrown around. Looks like his wife left him quite some time ago.
I took off my wet shoes and jacket while Petro disappeared in the kitchen, only to reappear with pickles and two bottles of vodka.
— Are you nuts? — I said. — We’re not going to drink that much.
— Relax, — mumbled Petro, as if he were talking to himself. — One shot here, one shot there. Bottle up, bottle down. Why do I always have to drink alone?
Is he having alcohol delirium? I thought to myself. It’s better I don’t push too hard on him, so I dropped my bag and entered his living room, instinctively clicking the light switch. The room was instantly filled with bright white light.
— Turn it off! Turn it off! — panicked Petro. His eyes were mad, and his skin went white as if he saw a ghost.
I got scared and clicked the switch again without asking any questions. Whatever. It’s his house, his rules.
— Just got inside and already feels like he owns the place… — Petro kept mumbling to himself. — Turns the lights around…
Poor guy. He really needs some help. Maybe he just needs someone to talk to? With that thought I sat at the table and took one pickle.
— Okay, Sania — Petro’s voice was surprisingly strong and loud. — Let us have a drink for courage.
Why specifically for courage — this I did not know. The vodka was strong and tasteless and I needed to get another pickle. Petro did not waste any time and started pouring the second shots. I raised my hand in protest, but he did not stop.
— It’s fine, it’s fine. Hold on a moment, I’ll get some salo too.
But before he could get up, he sat right back on his chair.
— He’s coming. — desperately said Petro. — That’s right. He’s coming. He saw it. Why did you have to turn on those damn lights?!
— Who’s coming?
Petro did not answer. He was busy listening to the outside.
— He’s on the front porch… — whispered he quietly.
— Do you want me to check?
Petro flinched. I saw a drop of sweat on his forehead.
— Don’t you fucking move!
I heard someone’s footsteps behind the front door. Someone touched the door handle, tried to open the door, then took a few steps back. I heard him walking around the house, closer to our window, barred with a thick blanket.
— GIVE ME BACK MY LE-E-E-EG! — a deep manly voice echoed through the room.
I twitched my hand out of surprise so fast, I almost knocked off the candle.
— What is that? — whispered I quietly.
Petro did not answer. His eyes were glued to the table. His lips moved, but no sound escaped.
— GIVE ME BACK MY LE-E-E-EG! — we heard the voice again. It felt like we heard it all around us.
I stood up, looking for any kind of weapon.
— Sit still! — commanded Petro, and started pouring another set of shots. — He’s not going to do anything. Doesn’t have the authority, get it? All he does is try to scare us.
I didn’t get anything, but obeyed and sat back in my chair. The blanket on the window started to move.
— He’s going to drop it… — warned Petro.
The blanked trempled as if from a sound wave but didn’t fall. One of the nails on the wall kept holding it in place. Still, it no longer blocked the window completely, and dim moonlight filled the room. Through the window, I saw nothing, just darkness and the empty yard of Petro’s house. When suddenly a triangle-shaped head on a narrow neck looked inside. I almost fell from the chair. It’s eyes were round, like soap bubbles, and its hand, with three long fingers, touched the glass like a frog.
— Who is that? — I almost screamed.
— Who do you think it is… — Petro sounded irratated. — An alien.
— Who?!
— Alien. — Petro repeated even more angrily. — Don’t be a child.
— A-and what does he want? — I managed to ask through my fear.
— GIVE ME BACK MY LE-E-E-EG! — now the voice seemed to come from above.
Petro shook his head.
— That bastard, tries to imitate a dead man. — he complained. — He knows I fear them since childhood.
He shook his whole body, and as if he woke up, Petro turned his face to me and spoke normally:
— Just sit and relax. Don’t worry. Relax, I said. I used to be like you at first, always sat holding my axe. — he nodded to an old axe in the corner of the room.
The outside became dark and quiet again. No signs of the alien. I took the glass of vodka and carefully looked closer in the window.
— Just don’t be afraid, — lectured me Petro. — He can’t come inside, not allowed… I got it on the third day.
— GIVE IT BACK! — The voice cried again. This time it was quieter and sounded like a normal human.
— I don’t have your fucking leg! — shouted Petro. — Leave me alone already! — He turned to me, — he’s stubborn as a dunkey. Give it back, give it back…
— He lost his leg?
— The leg of his flying saucer. Someone unsrew it and he thinks it was me. Just because you parked near me doesn’t mean I’m responsible for your shit!
— GIVE IT BACK! — The window glass trembled.
— He knows our language. — noticed I.
— Took him almost two weeks to master the pronunciation, — said Petro. — Still can’t curse, though. Too complicated concept for him. Let’s have one more round, for courage.
— BETTER GIVE IT BACK! — the voice thretened.
Petro became visibly uncomfortable.
— He’s going to spin, — vaguely warned Petro. — You just… Don’t move. Sit tight. It’s just vision. — Despite having said that, Petro took the vodka bottles and fixed them between his legs.
The house shook and tilted to the right. I panicked and dropped to the floor.
A whole minute the house kept being in this tilted state, but somehow, the table and the glasses did not move.
— He’s going to put us upside down, — nervously predicted Petro. And just as he said, in one quick motion, the floor under me became the ceiling. And again, nothing in the room has moved, and despite being so high up, I didn’t fell down.
— GIVE ME BACK MY LE-E-E-EG! — I heard it just next to my ear.
— Just don’t try to move! — quickly said Petro. — He’s not moving the house, he moves something in our heads. Lay down and close your eyes! Or else you’re going to kill yourself!
— How long is it going to last?! — I felt like the contents of my stomach were crawling dangerously close to my throat.
— It’s just the beginning! He didn’t even start shaking us yet!
The alien put the house back, right side up, but then quickly spun it again. Then again. Then again. Somewhere around the third spin, I lost my consciousness.
When I woke up, it all had already ended. My fingers still held the leg of the table with all their might. Petro still sat on his chair with tears in his eyes to indicate his suffering.
— And you know what? He does not believe me! — cried Petro. — I told him again and again, but he still does not believe me!
He sniffed and placed the vodka bottle back on the table. I looked through the window and saw the triangle face of the alien again. His bubbly eyes looked at us with some kind of hope.
— Are you sure you didn’t take it? I mean, the leg…
Petro heavily exhaled.
— Why would I need it?
— Then explain it to him.
— You try — said Petro.
I looked back in the window. The alien was gone. I heard quiet footsteps in the snow behind the entrance doors. I got up and walked to them.
— Hey, guy. Listen… You’re mistaken. Petro didn’t take it. He doesn’t have your leg…
— GIVE ME BACK MY LEG! — answered me the voice behind the door.
— You see? — said Petro. — He just won’t listen!
— Maybe you should call the police?
— Police?! — Petro got visibly mad. — Where would I hide the fishing explosives? You see that elk meat? You know it’s illegal to hunt them? The police will only get me into more trouble.
Defeated, I sat back at the table.
— Even the dog ran away, — with sadness in his voice, said Petro. — Broke the chain and ran. Everyone left me. I’m all alone here…
— Calm down, — I tried to cheer him up. — Don’t get desperate. We’ll figure something out. After all, it is an intelligent species. We can find some common ground…
— BETTER GIVE IT BACK! — said the intelligent species behind the window.
— Drink fast, — said Petro. — God knows what else he’s going to try.
And we drank. And waited. The house stood still. No sound on the street either.
— Maybe he left? — I said hopefully.
Petro slowly shook his head.
And then I heard it. Water. River. River? Next to a ravine? In the middle of the night? Amid the snow? The water flow became louder. It has to be it. A wild stream is coming crushing down in our direction. I saw it through the window. It broke the fence and flooded the yard. It’s level rose. Fast. A minute passed, and half of the window was under water.
— The glass is going to break! — panicked I.
— The hell it will! — annoyingly said Petro. — There is no water outside. One of his fucking tricks. He already buried me underground, threw me into space…
Behind the window, I saw my bag passing by, and next to him — three perches.
— Hey! That’s the fish I caught today! How did he?..
— That’s why I blocked the windows before, — said Petro with a tired voice. He walked to the window and tried to put the blanked back in place, when suddenly the face of a dead man looked at him from the other side and opened his mouth wide.
I don’t know for sure who screamed — Petro or the dead man. He took a few steps back and fell on the floor, losing conciousness. And right after that, everything stopped. There was no dead man. No water. No bag, no fish. Just darkness and the lonely moon in the skies.
Petro sat at the table, looking at the candle with an empty stare. I didn’t know what to do, so I poured him another shot of vodka.
— Do you know who could steal the leg? — I asked.
Petro was silent for a moment.
— It could be anyone! — he finally said. — You know what kind of people lurk around this part of town… One day they stole a shovel from inside my yard — and even my dog did not notice!
— Bastards. — Agreed I. — And the worst part is that whoever stole the damn leg is probably sleeping right now. And we’re suffering instead…
I carefully looked back at the window. The trianglehead looked back at me. Probably thinking of his next move.
— What does he do? — asked Petro.
— Just stands there. Wait, no… He’s putting wood under the barn. Hey! Is he going to burn it?
— Bullshit! — said Petro with a terrified voice and momentarily ran to the window.
The alien carefully placed wood all around the bard with his thin little arms. Then he looked directly at us.
— WILL YOU GIVE IT BACK?
— He’s going to burn it! — panicked Petro. — He’s going to burn it for real!
He ran to the corner of a room and took the axe. Then he ran straight towards the entrance door. I barely managed to stop him.
— You told me he doesn’t do anything! It’s just vision!
— And what if it’s not?! — screamed Petro. — I know where he took this wood, I know the wood is real!
We heard the crack of the flame. Very quickly, it became so bright outside that we didn’t need the candle.
— My explosives are in the barn! — Petro almost dropped the axe in shock. — Is he really?!…
He touched the window glass.
— Though I’m not sure… It went up in flames a bit too quickly… And he didn’t seem to soak them in bensin or anything…
His train of thought was interrupted by a loud bang. The roof of the barn was thrown away.
— Explodes! — mumbled Petro. — Maybe I really should give it…
I stood lost, not sure what I just heard.
— What did you say? Maybe you should… what? Did you actually take it?!
Petro was silent for a moment, thinking about what to say. Then he shouted angrily:
— His fucking fault! Should not have parked on my private property! I go through my field and see his shitwagon, doors open, no one in sight. So what the hell! I know how to tinker my truck, how complicated can his ship be? So I took my instruments, propped up his ship with some log and…
— GIVE ME BACK MY LEG! — kept insisting the alien.
— He will! — I shouted in response.
— Why the hell do you promice him my shit? — said Petro.
— Because it’s his shit! — now I was getting angry. — It’s either that or asylym for you! He’ll never leave you alone!
— Then he’ll better get comfortable.
— Just… Just give it back to him! — insisted I.
— No… I suffered so much for it, I deserve it now!
I didn’t even know what to say.
— What about me? Why do I have to suffer with you?
— It’s your goddamn fault you came here! I didn’t invite you.
— Show me! — demanded I.
— Show you what? — asked Petro.
— The leg! Show me the leg!
Petro got silent. He cautiously looked in the window. Then he disappeared in the bedroom, only to reappear moments later with a metal-looking pipe, about one meter in length.
— Look. But don’t touch! — presented it Petro.
— That’s it? That’s what you suffer for? Why do you need it anyway?!
— Oh, you don’t understand! — Petro replied, like I just offended him personally. — It is extendable! Look!
He spun one end of the pipe, pulled the other end, and the pipe doubled in length. He did it again, and it doubled once more. And once more. And once more. It felt like the only reason he stopped was because the size of his house did not allow it to get any longer.
— You can extend it up to 12 meters! — proudly explained Petro. — And not only that, look how light it is! And it doesn’t bend! Look! I can hold it on one end as if it’s nothing!
I looked back at the window. The alien was looking at his leg, holding both of his hands against the glass. As soon as Petro noticed him, he collapsed the leg back to its original length.
— So what? — said I. — So what if it extends? Is it really worth your mind?! Another week of this torture, and they will lock you in a room with soft walls!
Petro hid the leg away from the viewing distance of the alien.
— Listen. — I bargained. — Just give him his leg back… Wait! Listen! Give him this thing back! And I will make you one just like this at the factory! From aluminium! What do you say?!
Petro stood, holding his stick as if a baby with a candy.
— It will bend…
— It will! — I started to lose my temper. — But no one will spin your house again, debile!
Petro did not say anything. He just sat on the floor, looking at his stick.
— You will die from alcohol poisoning before you can do anything with it!
Petro’s lips started to tremble.
— You promice?
— Promice what? — I said in confusion.
— Promice to make it… From aluminium… Just like this…
— You have my word!
Petro started to move, but then he sat again.
— Or else I’ll open the door! — threatened I. — Try to explain to him how you deserve it now!
Petro looked at me in anger. Then he stood up, walked to the door, opened it and threw the stick in the snow.
— Take it! And choke on it!
I heard how Petro closed and locked the door. Then his steps as we walked back into the living room, sat on the table and poured himself another shot of vodka. But I didn’t look at him. My eyes were glued to the little triangle-headed alien, who slowly took his leg from the snow, carefully wiped it off with his small, 3-fingered hands, and walked away to the gates, past the untouched barn. Before he disappeared completely behind them, he looked back at me with his wide, bubbled eyes.
I heard the gates close. Petro was sitting at the table, looking at the glass of vodka with sadness in his eyes.
— Just… You promiced… You gave your word… From aluminium… Just like that… Extendable… Up to 12 meters…