U.F.O. Over Doreen Bayou

U.F.O. Over Doreen Bayou

Neville Blanchard, four bottles into his current six pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon, sitting by himself at three in the morning on a log on the banks of Doreen Bayou across from the old barn where he, Willie, and Ray had been drinking all night, saw a flash of light cross the sky. “Damn. What was that?” he wondered as his alcohol muddled brain tried to make sense of what he had seen. Tossing his empty into the bayou, he heard it splash at the same time that it dawned on him. He had just witnessed the U.F.O. that had been reported in the Midville Press just days ago.

“Ain’t that something?” he thought to himself as he slumped forward, half asleep and half passed out.

Dawn came, sun shown, frogs croaked, birds chirped, mosquitos bit, and slowly the three drinking buddies rubbed their eyes and began moving around. Willie heated some water on a small propane campers stove that his brother J.L. had given him, and made a pot of instant Folgers. After relieving themselves in the bayou and against a moss draped cypress tree, they sat, Willie on a box, Neville on his log, and Ray Buddah-like with crossed legs on the ground. Sipping the hot coffee, Neville told Willie and Ray about the U.F.O.

“Yeah. Uh Huh. Sure, Man,” they said. “Did the aliens beam you up and experiment on you, too?” they said, expressing serious doubt.

“Naah, man, I really saw a U.F.O,” and so it went the rest of the day.

A little before dark as the tree frogs started their cicada-like shrill, Willie remembered that they had not checked their traps. They had a half dozen traps staked near the water's edge in hopes of catching a mink. A mink’s pelt was worth $20 or $30 dollars depending on size and in good shape. A raccoon was worth only $2 or $3 dollars, but they could eat the raccoon or sell its meat for a couple of dollars.

There were no minks or raccoons in any of the traps, but a buzzard who had tried to get the rabbit leg that they had used as bait had triggered a trap and was being held by one leg. Willie was about to set the buzzard free, when Ray had a flash of inspiration.

“You know, if we could attach a light to that buzzard and have him fly off into the sky, we could create our own U.F.O.” So they kept the buzzard until they could agree on what to do with it.

A couple of hours later, their minds now well lubricated with alcohol, they came up with their grand plan. They would attach a ball of rags saturated with lighter fluid to the buzzard's leg, light it, and watch him soar off into the sky. And anyone else who saw it would think they were seeing a U.F.O. That image delighted them and the three of them roared with laughter at the thought.

Willie held the buzzard while Ray lit the ball of rags. As soon as the fire caught, Willie tossed the buzzard upward and it took to flight. However, the buzzard was not on the same wavelength as were they, and did not arch majestically across the sky. Instead it flew to the nearest tree, saw that not only was he not escaping the flaming ball tied to his leg, but that the danger grew when the tree itself caught fire. Taking off from there, the buzzard next flew into the old abandoned barn.

The barn had the attributes of a large pile of kindling, and Willie, Ray, and Neville stood there, their mouths agape. They watched the barn burn to the ground and flames spread to surrounding trees. Luckily, ground cleared for gravel extraction surrounded the area where they had been encamped, and the fire burned itself out. But not before volunteer firemen, police, and spectators had arrived and parked along the highway.

The story each of them swore to was that they had seen a ball of flame fly into the old barn. Their best guess was that it was a U.F.O.