Glow

Back in the ’20s and early ’30s, the old building on 79th Street was known as Club-79. Many of the greats played there—Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong, and Fletcher Henderson, just to name a few. The audience often included notable people like Coco Chanel, Charlie Chaplin, Al Capone, and even Albert Einstein. If you were alive then, this was the place to be.

The Roaring ’20s being what they were, the selling of illegal moonshine was frequent in many establishments. When moonshine was sold, you couldn’t do it out in the open. You needed a speakeasy—a place where those who wished to indulge could meet together. Of course, such places were top secret. At Club 79, the entrance was in the back next to the bathrooms. The door looked like a simple closet door—something no normal person would give a second look. You had to be invited to get in.

The building was guarded by another secret room where James Hollmen watched. He was the lookout man. You couldn’t see him, but he could see everything going on. He alerted the crew if they were close to being discovered. Secrecy was important. If everybody knew about it, then the feds would know about it. Nobody wanted that.

Unfortunately, that’s exactly what happened. Arnold Green was one of their top customers. He was known to be a charming ladies’ man. So when Betty Knight started visiting Club 79, Arnold greeted her right away. After a week, he invited her to join him at his personal booth. After a month, he invited her to join him in the speakeasy.

The timing was incredible. It came at a moment when Hollmen left the lookout room in a hurry. Maybe he needed a drink. Maybe he had to use the bathroom. It was odd, since he almost never left his station. Whatever the case, he was not there when he was needed most. It was then that the feds raided the building. Betty Knight—Karla Flowers was her real name—was a government plant. Nobody ever suspected her. And Hollmen was not there to warn the crew. Betty claimed she saw an orange glow. She believed it was a warning light. Anyway, all in the speakeasy were arrested. Club 79 was shut down. It sat vacant for decades.

Nobody ever found out what happened to Hollmen. The next day, his home was empty and his car was gone. He was never seen or heard from again.

The building passed hands several times after that. In 1975, it was a grocery store, with the owner living in the basement. In 1992, it was a movie theater. The basement wasn’t used for anything except storage. In 1995, it was discovered that the theater was a front for an illegal movie-pirating ring. The feds raided it and confiscated everything. In all this time, the lookout room was never discovered.

In 2025, Molly Ray purchased it as a daycare center. Her clients were newborns to 12-year-olds. The basement was reserved for ages 6 to 12—the after-school kids. No more speakeasy. No more secrecy. Everything was redesigned to be open. That is, until she found the hidden lookout room that had not been opened since the 1930s. She wanted to turn it into an office where she could keep an eye on things, but that was put on the back burner.

One day, Brandy McCotton applied for a job. Her résumé was out of this world. She had a master’s in childcare and early development. She had worked 10 years at a daycare center in California. She even opened her own home daycare for a few years. She was hired on the spot.

Molly was in the lookout room. She was there with her husband, Mr. Ray, as he preferred to be called. He was hired not just to transform the room into an office, but also to stay on as security. They did not plan on spying on Brandy, but when the opportunity came, they couldn’t resist.

There was no way Brandy could have known that anyone was watching. It was nap time for the children. She looked around and then placed both hands on top of her head and peeled off her skin, revealing that she was not human. Her real form was just a glowing orange ball of light.

Molly almost screamed, but Mr. Ray covered her mouth.

“She can’t find out that we saw that,” he said.

They continued to watch as Todd, a 3-year-old, woke up and came looking for her. When Brandy heard him, she put her skin back on and went to comfort him. She picked him up and rocked him back to sleep.

“Should we say something to her?” Molly asked.

“I don’t think so. Not now. We shouldn’t say anything to anyone. Not yet. (Who would believe us?)”

That last statement was more of a whisper. He did not intend for her to hear it. But she did. She did not reply with words—just a nod of the head and a small “hmm-hmm.”

“What would you suggest we do?”

“We’ll set up cameras around the building this weekend. When we do say something, we’ll be able to prove it.”

That weekend, nearly 100 cameras were set up around the building. There was very little that could happen inside without their notice.

Monday came, and Mr. Ray stayed in the lookout room the entire day. He continued to watch Brandy, hoping to catch her true form on video. Of course, this was to no avail. She would not change in front of the cameras.

Day after day, nothing was seen.

“Did we imagine it?” Molly asked.

“How could we both imagine the same thing?”

“Do you think she knows we’re watching?”

“Not sure. A better question is… is she watching us?”

“Should we get rid of her?”

“Do we have a reason?”

The truth was that the children loved Brandy. Both the older kids and the younger kids. She was their favorite. They all loved her.

“I guess not. She’s a great worker. We’ll just have to watch her some more.”

Friday came. As the younger children were taking a nap, most of the employees gathered in the Employee Lounge. Mr. Ray was in the lookout room while Molly chatted with the others. Brandy said she was going to check on the kids—she needed to stretch her legs. While it was true she checked on the children, that was not the reason she got up.

She walked through the kitchen and into the pantry, one of the few rooms where there were no cameras. As Mr. Ray watched, waiting for her to emerge, the cameras in the kitchen picked up a faint orange glow.

“She’s in the pantry,” Mr. Ray said to Molly. Molly was wearing an earpiece; nobody else could hear him.

“I still can’t see her,” he continued, “but I can see the orange glow.”

Molly excused herself and made her way to the kitchen. When she got there, it was too late. Brandy emerged with snacks for herself and the rest of the staff.

“Oh!” Brandy said, surprised to see Molly. “You startled me.”

“What are you doing?”

“I thought everybody might want some snacks.”

“Okay. That’s fine.”

Molly stayed in the kitchen while Brandy went back to the lounge. When she was out of the way, Molly examined the pantry. She had no idea what to look for; she was just trying to find some kind of evidence of what Brandy was doing. She found nothing.

Brandy was wise enough to stay away from the cameras. Despite the fact that they were hidden, she seemed to know where they were. Nobody else seemed to know anything about the orange glow—or at least they didn’t think anything strange about it.

Day after day, Mr. Ray remained in the lookout room, keeping a watchful eye on Brandy. The problem with spending so much time watching one person is that you don’t see what’s going on with anybody else. Like Todd.

Todd again woke up. He was crying and started to search for Brandy. Mr. Ray, of course, was watching from the lookout room. There seemed to be a faint glow emitting from Todd’s eyes. As he looked around, they began to glow brighter and brighter.

“The kids also!” whispered Mr. Ray.

“Ms. Brandy,” Todd called. “I can’t turn it off.”

“Close your eyes, sweetheart,” she said as she picked him up. She placed her hand over his eyes and rushed him to a closet. Matt Grayson, a coworker, rushed in to help. He seemed undeterred by the child’s glowing eyes.

“Let me help,” he said.

“Thanks. It’s getting harder.”

“Don’t worry. It’ll all be over soon.”

“Yes. I can’t wait to go home.”

A glow emitted from the closet, brighter than anything before. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was there. Mr. Ray was able to keep his composure and keep watch. He signaled to Molly to go to the closet, but by the time she got there, Todd was back in bed while Brandy and Matt were back in the lounge.

Molly examined the closet. She couldn’t see anything special about it. It was just a linen closet. The strangest thing was the size. It was big enough for three people—even if one of them was a small child.

In the lookout room, Molly reviewed the footage of the closet.

“Matt and Todd are with her,” she whispered. “What’s going on? Should we say something now?”

“Not yet,” said Mr. Ray. “Let’s wait a little while longer. We want to see what they are doing.”

“What if they’re trying to take over the world! What if they’re replacing the children with pod people?”

“Take over the world? Pod people? I doubt it. Just wait. I believe they’re harmless.”

It took a little more convincing, but he persuaded her to let it go— at least for a short while.

At the end of the day, when the kids were leaving, Brandy stopped Todd’s mother to talk. Molly was listening.

“Hello, Sydni,” she said. “Our friend had an ACCIDENT today.”

The word “accident” was said with a bit of force. It was as if something else was meant by it. Of course, Molly knew exactly what she was talking about. But she had promised Mr. Ray that she wouldn’t say anything.

“Did anybody notice?” Sydni asked.

“Only Matt. He helped me to CLEAN it up.”

Another word said with emphasis. She wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Thank you so much for your help,” Sydni said to Matt.

“No worry. It’s my job.”

Sydni hugged Brandy and said, “It won’t be long.”

When all of the children and parents were gone, Molly pulled Brandy to the side.

“You have a real knack for children,” she said. “Especially that Todd. He surely loves you.”

“Most young people are full of heart and love. If you know how to reach it, you’ll enjoy it. As for Todd, he’s my nephew. Not really, but my mother took his mother in when she had nowhere to go. That made her like my sister.”

“By the way, Todd had an accident today?”

“Yes, but Matt and I got him cleaned up.”

“I really appreciate how quickly you got it cleaned up. We can’t even tell anything happened. But next time, make sure you fill out a report—just in case there is an issue with the detergent we use to clean his clothes.”

She was trying to catch her in a lie. But Brandy really did put his clothes in the washer. She always covered all tracks.

“Oh! I did. I must have forgotten to turn it in. It might be on my desk. I’ll go get it.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it before I leave.”

She was convinced that Brandy did not fill out a report. Why would she wash his clothes if they were not soiled? But Brandy was the type who always had her “I’s crossed and T’s dotted,” as her mother always said. The report was there, just as Brandy had said.

While Molly was talking to Brandy, Matt was searching for something in the back.

“Hey, Matt,” said Mr. Ray. “Were you looking for something?”

“No! Just looking. Never paid attention to these doors here. What’s in them?”

“They’re just storage. They’re not being used right now. But if curiosity is your thing, let me show you something.”

One of the storage rooms on the other side of the building was being converted into a media room. There was nothing special about it. He just wanted to keep Matt from discovering the lookout room. It seemed to work for the time being.

A week later, Todd was taken into the closet again. The glow was getting brighter. It was bright enough to awaken Laura, another 3-year-old. Quietly, she followed them in. As she watched the three shed their skin, she screamed. With no other choice, they pulled her into the closet. Less than a minute later, Todd and Laura were put back in bed. Brandy filled out reports for both Todd and Laura. She again washed Todd’s clothes, although they were not soiled. For Laura, she reported that she had a bad dream.

The bad dream story worked for Laura’s parents. This was good since the memory wipe often didn’t work with children. Who would believe that their child’s daycare provider was an alien anyway? Molly didn’t accept the story. She saw everything from the lookout room. Now four people inside the closet! Something strange was going on, and she was determined to find out.

After everyone left, she went to examine the closet. She must have spent 20 minutes searching before she walked away. She was convinced that there was something there— they just covered everything. She wasn’t willing to let this go. Before leaving, she turned around and stared at the closet for a moment. She was just about to turn around when she heard a strange noise. It sounded like metal rubbing against metal. It wasn’t loud but still noticeable. Right after, the closet started to glow. Then two glowing balls glided out of the closet. While the closet was still emitting light, she ran inside to find an opened trapdoor leading down into a sub-basement.

When she descended, the shock was almost too much for her: an alien spaceship was under her building.

She tried to run back up, but about 15 glowing balls surrounded her. They lifted her up and pulled her deeper into the underground cavern where they were dwelling. One of them transformed in front of her. It was Brandy.

“Let her go,” she said. “She’s the only one that can help us.”

Matt, Todd, and Sydni appeared next.

Todd swallowed hard. “She’s been watching us this whole time. I saw her face when you talked about my accident.”

Molly couldn’t speak. She had suspected for years that something lived beneath the building, but seeing their hidden world laid bare—and being asked for help—felt unreal.

“Help?” she whispered. “What can I possibly do?”

“She can get us into the lookout room,” Matt said. “It has the key.”

“What key?”

Laura stepped forward. “Eight hundred fifty years ago, our ship landed on Earth. We were welcomed by a people called the Council of Three Fires. They called us the Fourth Fire and vowed secrecy. Every century we returned—until one visit ended in a crash. The Council was gone, and this building was eventually built over our ship. We’ve spent decades trying to reach it again.”

Matt continued, “In the 1920s, I worked here under the name James Hollmen. When government agents discovered what I was, I fled. By the time I came back, the building was locked down. Only when you hired us could we return—but the lookout room changed too much. I can’t reach the key.”

“The key powers our ship,” Molly said slowly. “It was last seen in that room almost a century ago.”

A new voice echoed from behind a stack of boxes. “I can let you in,” Mr. Ray said, stepping forward. No one had realized he’d followed her down.

“But everything from that room was sent to storage,” he added.

Molly’s eyes widened. “I—threw that stuff out last week.”

The aliens froze. Tools clattered to the floor. “All is lost,” someone murmured.

“Why?” Molly asked.

“There are 150 of us,” Laura said. “We’ve been on Earth too long. Some are losing control of their forms. If we don’t leave soon… we won’t survive.”

Mr. Ray lifted his chin. “Let’s search the lookout room anyway.”

Inside, Matt scanned the empty space. His old belongings were gone—except a photo of his wife, holding a rod crowned with a black diamond.

“That’s the key,” he said.

Molly breathed out in relief. “I kept that. It’s in my office.”

Three days later, Molly announced a “maintenance closure.” To parents, she blamed plumbing. To herself, she whispered the truth.

On the final day, the building hummed as if alive. One by one, glowing forms slipped into the sub-basement—her staff, her friends—revealing themselves fully at last. They gathered around the ship, light rippling across their bodies.

Brandy approached, voice trembling. “You gave us safety. We won’t forget you.”

Molly was already crying when footsteps sounded behind her. Mr. Ray stepped into view, his face softening into something ancient and tired.

“There’s something I should have told you,” he said. “I’m not from here either. I was stranded… eight hundred years ago. And then I met you. I didn’t want to lose the life we built.”

Her breath broke. “You’re leaving too?”

He didn’t answer—he didn’t have to.

Matt lifted the key. The ship shimmered into view, then vanished with a snap. A violent pulse shook the foundation. The building groaned and collapsed.

When the dust settled, Molly clawed her way out, screaming Ray’s name until her voice died. But he was gone. All of them were gone.

Late that night, alone in bed, she stared at the dark ceiling, the emptiness beside her unbearable.

At 3 a.m., a faint glow flickered in the corner of the room—warm, familiar—pulsing once like a heartbeat.

Then it faded.

Molly pressed her hand to her chest.

“I miss you too,” she whispered.