Spaceship, flying saucer, an hallucination … Big Bear concentrates on the object and tells himself that he is just hallucinating. There is a pinpoint of light, actually a spot of light about the size of a tennis ball, dropping through space. Then it is the size of a football … he is trying to think it is a real object, no matter what it is doing up there … but maybe it’s a flying saucer. Or a spaceship. He looks at Estelle, who is also drunk. She is staring at her hands, neatly folded on her lap. Those hands roam around in dead bodies the way coyotes roam around the desert — just for something to do. This is the first time he has ever been glad to concentrate on Mortuary Science. Like reading the stock pages in the bathroom.
“What is that?” Big Bear says, fighting to stay calm.
“Well, you know what it looks like,” Estelle says. “It looks like a spaceship.”
“Yeah, I know. But what is it really?”
Now that Estelle is becoming educated and urbane, he has become more childish. He is always asking questions.
“I don’t know. It’s a spaceship come to take us to Mars.”
Big Bear begins to worry about the car being blown over. The car is a 1965 Peugeot, a real piece of crap that Big Bear would have gotten rid of long ago if it had not belonged to his wife’s brother, who died in Viet Nam. His wife won’t hear of getting rid of the car. She has some of her brother’s underwear that she won’t take out of the drawer. It’s in Big Bear’s drawer, in fact — not hers — and her reason for that is that it’s men’s underwear. But her brother’s car is done for now, because the wind is going to blow it over and mash the roof.
“What’s going on?” Big Bear yells to Estelle. It comes out a whisper. It occurs to Big Bear that this is some kind of joke. He would discuss with Estelle the possibility of the people at the party pulling a joke on them, but it’s too noisy to converse. Through the windstorm he hears, “Earthlings! We are visitors from a friendly planet” and wets his pants.
*
Big Bear hears Estelle in the kitchen, memorizing: “The heart is a hollow muscular pump surrounded by the pericardium.…” Just by the tone of her voice, he understands that there is no hope for the human body. His two children, Sammy and David, stand around the kitchen eating cookies and listening to their mother. They like it better than talking to Big Bear, which makes him brood. His children are interested in intestines, the liver, bones, tissue, the optic nerve. It makes Big Bear sick just to think about it. If he could think of an excuse to stop giving Sammy and David an allowance, he would.
Big Bear tilts back his La-Z-Boy reclining chair and examines his feet, which block his view of the television.
*
Big Bear gives his wife a valentine, shyly. He thinks that the saleswoman might have been making a fool of him when she told him that the huge card with the quilted taffeta heart and embossed cupids would get across his message best. The card cost two dollars and fifty cents. The woman was young and had aviator glasses and an ironic smile. He prides himself in knowing women, but lately he doesn’t trust any of them. Imagine Estelle enrolling in college, signing up for Mortuary Science. “Oh, this is lovely,” she said when Big Bear gave her the valentine. He didn’t want to mess it up in case there was something she could do with the card, so he just wrote his name on a little piece of paper and tucked it in the card. It falls out when Estelle opens it. He is standing right in front of her — she knows who it’s from — why did he even put the piece of paper in? She picks it up. “Love, Bear,” it says. “Oh, this is lovely,” she says. Valentine’s Day is not one of Big Bear’s favorite occasions. He always feels like a fool. His wife did not give him a valentine. She forgot, she says. But she doesn’t forget about the pericardium that surrounds that hollow muscular pump that no longer beats with love for him.
*
“Roll up your window,” Big Bear says. Estelle is rolling down her window. She is rolling it down to throw her cigarette away. A spaceship has landed in front of their Peugeot and she is rolling down her window.
“Earthlings! Like you, we have ears, but they are very sensitive. We can hear what you are saying and do not want you to be afraid.”
Big Bear stares. A round dome that seems to be made of something soft — foam rubber? — bobs slightly in front of them. The thing covers the whole road.
“We also read minds. There are three of us, and two of us speak English.”
“Oh, holy shit!” Big Bear says. “Estelle?”
She has rolled the window down and is letting the smoke from another cigarette she just lit blow out of the car.
“We will leave our spaceship, Bill and Estelle. Please do not worry.”
“God almighty,” Big Bear says. “Roll it up, Estelle.”
“What does it matter?” Estelle says. Big Bear reaches across her lap and rolls up the window. The car is still running, his foot is still on the brake. He thinks about trying to get around the spaceship. There is no way to get around it without driving into a marsh. Big Bear throws the car into reverse and starts backward, but when he does that a wind stops the car and slowly pulls it forward again.
“Please get out of your car,” the voice says.
There is a man standing in the road. He has on a shirt and a pair of slacks. His face is red. He waves.
“Come on,” Estelle says.
“Stay in the car, Estelle.”
“We need pictures of both of you,” the voice says.
Big Bear’s pants are wet. He cringes. Estelle has left the car and is walking toward the red-faced man. He thinks about stepping on the gas and crushing her, running into her from behind, not letting her have her way.
“Estelle?” he says to the empty seat.
“Please get out,” the voice says.
“I’m not getting out,” Big Bear says.
“We must have pictures. There are twenty exposures on the roll.”
“What do you need pictures for?”
“To take back, Bill. They sent us for pictures.”
“What are they going to do with the pictures?”
“I don’t know. I just take the pictures.”
Big Bear rubs his hand over his face. “I will never drink again,” he says. “Estelle?” he says.
“This is a random landing. We’ll never see you again. We need twenty pictures, and we would like to be your friends before we leave. Please get out of the car.”
Estelle is talking to the man. He rolls down his window and puts his head out. It smells damp. There is a lot of fog. The lights have been turned out on the spaceship, and it is hard to tell just how large it is. It looked huge in the sky over the car, but it doesn’t look that big now. Just big enough to block the road. Big Bear puts the car in reverse again. Just as before, a stream of air draws him forward.
“We found you by accident. You’ll do fine for the pictures, though. If you’ll please get out.”
Big Bear wants to go home and go to sleep. Big Bear wants to go home to throw away all his liquor. He wants his children. His children!
“What are you going to do to me?” he asks again.
“Take your picture,” the man says.
Disgusted, Big Bear opens the door and gets out. He walks forward. The man shakes his hand and introduces himself as Bobby. Estelle smiles at him.
“You’re drunk,” Big Bear says to Estelle.
“That’s okay,” the man says. “If you two could stand by your car?”
Big Bear doesn’t want to turn his back on the man.
“The other ones?” Big Bear asks.
“Donald is playing a game inside. He’s tired of coming to Earth.”
“What game?” Big Bear asks suspiciously, not sure why he’s suspicious.