The Friend From Afar

By Judie Gerber

All the animals have disappeared and nobody knows what's happened — except for an anguished young artist living at the Golden Gate Youth Hostel, her quirky alien friend, and a galactic grifter intent on stealing away every non-human creature from Earth.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Judie Gerber
• Release date: Sep 20, 2021
• ISBN: 9780978788186

Book preview

Chapter 1:

The Stranger Out There in the Dark

Under the clear night sky, San Francisco is a lit-up megalopolis where the moonlit Pacific Ocean meets bay. The city sprawls to the suburbs in its southern parts, and a row of small houses on Luna Lane that back up along a paved bike trail behind a mall parking lot.

One of the humble homes has a pink bike on its front porch, and a praying flamingo planted squarely in the center of its tiny artificial-turfed front lawn. In the backyard, in the only tree, nailed to a wooden platform, the treehouse is a cardboard refrigerator box made into a rocketship with "ASTRANAUT & ROCKET" painted on its side.

At the tree’s base with her mom’s cell phone in hand, a barefoot, eight-year-old tomboy with grass-stained knees below her muddy nightie hem, Nolabelle Astra Noble, photographs her Jack Russell Terrier puppy, Rocket, in his new doghouse.

I’m so glad we rescued you from that awful puppy mill, Rocket, Astra smiles sadly. I wish that every single animal on Earth was safe from harm.

Astra’s mother watches from inside the kitchen window. I’ve got bills to do, she calls out. Don’t go out the gate. There could be a stranger out there in the dark.

Astra rolls her eyes. In my life so far, most strangers have turned out to be pretty nice.

Ignoring her, Mom turns from the window to her business.

Astra adjusts her hair barrette – beads woven around a three-inch-long, half-inch diameter, hollow, tapered, metal cylinder with a fluted end. Its surface is engraved with an intriguing nonsensical code. It looks to be a mouthpiece of some sort.

Rocket’s ears prick up. He darts to the back gate on his three legs. His missing right hind limb doesn’t slow him down any. The hyper-alert pup stands and scans the sky.

Astra surveys overhead. There’s nothing unusual. What do you see, boy?

They watch three cats run along the top of the back fence, then jump off onto the paved path on the other side of the gate. Two squirrels leap from the treehouse roof to a tree over the fence, then scramble down its trunk to the mall lot. Astra peers over the fence as a possum and a raccoon cut off the trail toward the mall. Birds, insects, butterflies, and bats fill the sky overhead, and they all descend toward the parking lot too.

A shooting star above turns into a cylindrical rock, then a rock orb lighted within as it heads to the same spot as the animals.

Rocket whines and paws at the gate.

Astra’s barrette makes a whirring sound. She touches it. Furrowing her brow, she takes it off and inspects it. It’s never done that before. The barrette stays quiet. She replaces it in her hair.

Rocket lunges at the gate. The latch loosens and the gate opens.

Astra scolds, You can’t—

But Rocket’s out and races off across the paved trail.

Astra runs out the gate behind him, then stops, glances back at the empty kitchen window, and chases after Rocket to the mall parking lot. There they both stand at the perimeter, behind a crowd of animals facing the mall — the animals they already saw, as well as dogs, chipmunks, rabbits, rats, mice, geese, foxes, skunks, possums, and a coyote. They all pay attention to a mystical light that hums at the front of the crowd.

Unnoticed by the mesmerized animals, Astra scoops frightened Rocket under her arm and skulks behind the group until she has a line of sight to the front of the crowd. There’s a blurry someone behind the magical light where the hum definitely comes from.

Rocket yips.

The animals turn and see them, then scatter and hide in the shadows around the periphery.

Rocket springs from the girl’s hold, sprints toward the light, and leaps at the blurry someone behind it.

No! Astra shrieks. She can’t see for the glare. Silence. She steps forward. Get over here, Rocket, she commands softly. Come on.

The intense light dulls to an eighteen-inch-long, metallic cylinder held by the seven-digit hand of a four-and-a-half-foot-tall alien. Smooth-skinned and hairless, except for tufts on its elongated head and tip of its three-foot-long tail, the alien’s changeable skin color blends-in with its surroundings, making it hard to see it all at once. Most likely a camouflage tactic. Its short, slender body has two long jointless arms and legs, each with seven suction-cup-tipped digits. Its face has two big violet eyes. Two baby elephant-like ears hang down to its shoulders.

Astra gasps as the alien’s free arm picks up Rocket. Its other hand holds the metallic cylinder, which, up close, is actually a beautiful musical instrument — the Beacon. Astra cautiously approaches. The Beacon hums. As Astra’s barrette whirs, her pupils dilate further at the sight a few yards behind the alien, where a rock orb spaceship sits atop garbage in a crushed dumpster. That explains the submarine sandwich smeared on the alien’s shoulders and chest where Rocket contentedly licks at a piece of mustard-laden salami.

As the alien places Rocket down on the pavement, a violet light flashes in its hand when it passes over the pup’s right flank. The now-four-legged dog barks with delight, dances on his perfect hind legs, and darts over to Astra ten feet away.

Astra checks out the dog’s new leg. It’s real alright. How did you do that? she asks the alien.

The alien moves its feet up and down on the spot. Its free hand pokes at the air before it like it’s computing and translating on an invisible console in the air. Its indistinct mouth emits a gurgle, smacking sounds, a series of tinny coughs, and then focussed sonar clicks. In a strained voice, the alien utters, Fell-ow-be-ing. Each syllable ripples through the alien’s skin from head to toe. Its words seem to surprise it. As if the alien doesn’t normally use its voice. It sways dizzily.

Who are you? Astra queries.

The alien speedily works its invisible console with one hand. It flaps its ears, chirps, makes weird squawks, then sonar clicks. Fellow-being, it replies as its whole being shimmers with the syllables. It brays like a donkey and stands its oversized ears up like one. Its foot-stomps sound like clip-clopping hooves on the pavement.

I mean your name, Astra clarifies.

As its tail pulls invisible levers, the alien stretches its neck a good foot and groans, Frrrriend.

Rocket wags his tail as he sniffs his new leg. He likes this guy whoever he is.

Where from? Astra interrogates.

The alien stops its hand and tail movements. Hiccups. Afarrrr, it manages.

Astra remains ten feet from the alien. I’m not sure if you’re an angel or an alien or both, friend from afar. What would you say about it?

The alien hiccups. Its ears jump with each one.

Astra slowly walks around the alien. Tomatoes and lettuce sully the built-in jetpack on its back. On the back of its head, a HELLO MY NAME IS ERNEST nametag and a cheese slice above a closed third eye.  The girl finishes her inspection. She faces the alien and steps closer to it. May I call you Ernest?

The alien, now a he called Ernest, points to her barrette with the open end of the Beacon instrument which resembles a slightly curved didgeridoo. The nonsensical engraved code on the Beacon’s exterior surface is the same as that of Astra’s barrette piece. There are a series of small slits and holes in the Beacon’s shaft, and fourteen metal strings woven tight around the mid-section where Ernest grips it. As the Beacon nears the barrette, both items hum stronger and more exquisitely. The animals come out of hiding