Another Kind Altogether

Marilyn didn't want to stay. She felt fine. She understood everyone's concern—being missing a week—but she also knew she was unharmed. After three days of blood tests and psychiatric questionnaires, she was ready to storm out without permission. She was an adult, after all.

A man wearing a hat—a proper hat—peaked in. "Marilyn?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered. He entered her hospital room and took of his hat courteously. He wore an off-the-rack suit but was neat and seemed professional.

"I'm Detective Porter. I'd like to ask you some questions, if I may."

"About time," she scoffed. "I mean, I'm kidnapped for a week and after three days in-patient I get your attention! Is that procedure?"

"Marilyn, I couldn't come until the doctors gave permission."

"Yeah, right. OK, then, what would you like to know? I gotta tell you, though, I don't remember anything. I must've been drugged."

"According to the doctors, a thorough exam found no signs of physical interactions whatsoever. And no drugs in you blood. So, you really should remember something."

"I should? Well I don't!" she barked.

"Sorry for doubting you, but when these things happen, it's unusual not to have evidence of a struggle or an assault."

"Or being found dead."

"Yes, or that, unfortunately. You're very fortunate. Any idea why you were kidnapped? Are your parent's wealthy?"

"Are you kidding?"

"Do you remember any descriptions of the perpetrators?"

"Nothing. And I'm fine. So, I think that wraps your interrogation. Can I go?"

"That's just it. You say you're fine and there weren't any physical signs of anything—and I mean anything—if you know what I mean."

"No, I don't."

"The doctors are confused. I'm no gynecologist, but they say that you were—how'd they put it...intact."

"Good to know. Yes, I'm a virgin, if that's what you're getting at. I think I'd remember—"

Marilyn stopped suddenly and threw up a little into her mouth. She took a sip of the orange juice on the tray. Her eyes glazed over.

They surrounded me and they made the air smell...that way. The lights were—wait! There were no lights. Except that one light. My God!

"I remember," Marilyn mumbled.

"What's that?" Detective Porter asked.

"My kidnappers. They're not from here."

"From out of town?"

"Yeah," she laughed.

"From where?" he asked.

Marilyn pointed up tentatively.

"I'm sorry?"

"From space, Detective. It was one of those, shit..alien abductions. Oh God, listen to me..."

"Right," he humored her. "Let me ask you this...do you have a boyfriend?"

"Why?"

"Well, could you be pregnant?"

Marilyn glared at him. "No, not that it's any of your business. Remember our virgin discussion? No boyfriends. Never had sex. I'm proud to be...intact, as they say."

"Yet, the doctors find your ultrasound confusing."

That one light. My God! That light...is in me!

Marilyn suddenly gained a sentience that had been maturing for a week.

"I guess we'll just have to see what comes with the joys of motherhood," she said, smiling in a most peculiar way.