I searched in all rooms of my little house and found not a single document. Where were they? I wasn't a very organized person and my papers were scattered everywhere. I lived in a small, secluded house isolated in the hills near Arcadia- a small city in Colorado where I used to live with my parents when I was a child. Now I was all alone in my old home.
I checked my bookshelf- still no papers. I went over every drawer of my little wooden dresser to search for some treasure as well. No papers, no coins, nothing but some old photo albums, clothes, T.V. remotes, towels, odds and ends.
Where could they be? I would have to search the mountains again. I called my old friend, Jimmy, who helped me all the time with my paper clutter. He said he would be here in an hour, so I had more time to rip through my magazines.
I made my way down the old, dirt road that crisscrossed my mountains and began searching for trails into the woods. I kept up a steady pace and climbed over the waist high grasses. When I came to a spot where a log had fallen across the road, I climbed over it and continued down the winding old road, bumping into tree limbs and walking over broken branches.
After about half an hour, I came to a grassy clearing in the center of the mountains. When I looked on the ground, I saw some papers scuffed down in the grass. I started to pick them up, and as I trotted up the trail, I came across more and more papers.
As I came over the hill of the clearing, I heard rustling in the bushes. As I approached the sound, I saw a little raccoon scurrying on all fours into the trees beyond the grassy clearing.
I began my trek up the mountain slopes, scaling the rugged terrain with its steep cliffs, cliffs and cliffs. I opened the map and searched for the best location to climb. I climbed down into a shaded gully, and circled around the mountain. I climbed up the crags on all sides of the mountain. I found a spot that was the perfect height to climb up and over the mountains.
I started to climb when I suddenly heard the sound of an engine. I looked down and below me, I saw a maroon car from the 50s, a Jaguar. She got out of the car, but I couldn't see who she was. I heard her calling me.
I looked around and below me saw a cornfield. So I started toward the sound of the car. Arriving at the car quickly, I looked inside and saw that it was Angela. I was incredulous. I was in love. This was unbelievable. I had encountered aliens. A country bumpkin- one of many would tell you that they saw UFOs, shoot movies of aliens, and believe in extraterrestrials. The cars of the time have small black hole-sized radars that scan the ground, and like any other car, it can also do a screen shot of the area around it.
The car wasn't scanning the area as I arrived it. I didn't care. Angela was standing in the middle of her cornfield, silently watching me approach. She was tall, but not quite as tall as me. She was beautiful and almost looked like a model.
I felt instant attraction. She was dressed in a drab gray-brown skirt, which flowed down to her ankles in waves. The body around it was also gray and was worn at the bottom. Her long, black hair fell in waves to her shoulders. Like everyone in the town, she had a face shaped like an oval, with triangular-shaped lips and blue eyes. It took me a long time to study everyone's faces, and I knew that no one had lips like that. Her eyes were different from everyone else I had encountered. It was mesmerizing.
Her skin was creamy and pale- like the rest of the townspeople. We were all normal looking, but no one had that translucent glow that she had. Her hair was highlighted blonde in some parts, which I guessed were cut. Her eyebrows were pale, but she had no mascara. Her arms were thin, as were her legs. When she moved I could see some parts of her body jiggle, but it was not unappealing.
She had black rubber boots on her feet.
I let go of the tree, walked across the grass, and approached her. I watched her face for a reaction and looked at her calmly as I approached. When I was a few feet away, I stopped and put out my hand. She took it and shook it, but then instantly pulled away.
"Where do you live? You must live down from here," I said in a very deep voice.
"I don't know," she said. "I don't live here anymore."
"Where do you live? What's your name?" I asked.
"Angela," she said quickly.
"Angela," I repeated.
"Do you live there?" she pointed to where I was staying.
"Yes," I said. "Do you lead a very different life?"
She looked at me blankly.
"Live in your own fashion," I concluded.
"I suppose," she whispered.
"Come with me to my house," I said.
"To see your wife?" she asked with a smile.
"No wife," I replied.
"To see your husband?" she asked.
"No husband," I said.
"You don't have a family?" she asked.
"No family," I repeated. "Why do you ask?"
"It's a strange story," she began, "and I'm not sure if I believe it myself, but I'll tell you."
"I'm sorry to hear that you don't have a family," I replied.
"I guess we are all like that," she concluded.
"We are different," I whispered.
"More beautiful," she concluded.
"More beautiful," I agreed.
Her lips turned up.
The first time I finally smiled.
She looked at me, her eyes grew large.
I moved closer.
She did not move away.
"You should meet my mum," she finally replied, as she crossed her arms.
"Of course," I said.
"I've got her waiting in the car," she said.
"Come on," I said.
"No," she said. "I don't think so."
"What's your car doing out here?" I asked.
"I hid it," she admitted.
"Why did you do that?" I asked.
"I heard you were coming today," she said.
"Were?" I asked.
"I figured your car would probably be taking you to the meeting, and I wasn't sure how much time you'd have to be here. I was worried that you'd come here in the afternoon and find it, with me in it," she said.
"Why?" I asked.
"I have no idea," she said.
"Why did you take it?" I asked.
"It didn't belong to anyone," she said.
I looked at her.
She looked at me.
"I hear it's been stolen from someone," I said.
"Maybe I took it, or maybe it was never stolen," she countered.
I looked at her.
"Why do you persist in claiming that it was stolen?" I asked.
"Well, it was," she said, "at least I assume so."
"You're different," I said.
"Why?" she asked.
"Because you're so unlike everyone else," I said.
"Do you know everyone else?" she asked.
"I've seen them all," I answered.
"Why are you here?" she asked.
"I'm here to tell you about yourself," I said.
"Me?" she asked.
I nodded.
She looked at me, confused.
"You're supposed to repeat everything I say," I said.
"Speak," she said.
"No," I said.
"Speak," she repeated.
"No," I said.
"Speak," she repeated a little louder.
"No," I said.
She looked at me.
"Speak," she said.
"No," I said.
She looked at me.
"You've never disobeyed anyone in your life, have you?" I asked.
"I'm not sure what you mean," she replied.
"You hold your breath unless you're asked to breathe," I pointed out.
"Why?" she asked.
"It's your body," I said. "You're the one who's living through it. You're the one who should be with it. It's not mine, or anyone else's. You shouldn't let anyone else try to decide what's best for it, or how to live it."
Angela looked at me.
"What you're doing is really dangerous," I said.
"What?" she asked.
"You're so scared that you're going to die that you're afraid to live," I said.
"It's not about death," she said.
"Of course it's about death," I countered.
"It's not," she said.
I stared at her.
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