Allen the Alien, Chapter 4

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Our story thus far: Allen, an emissary from somewhere else out there, has been making friends with a tribe of rubber ducks here on Earth. Young Tommy, son of Cupcake and a very observant and forward lad, has unraveled Allen’s secret. Instead of further deflecting Tommy, Allen has requested a meeting with their leader.

The leader had a big smile that made Allen immediately uncomfortable. He didn’t trust people who smiled too much.

“It is a great honor to meet someone from beyond the stars,” the leader said.

“It’s not that far away,” Allen said.

“Well, it’s farther away than Osaka,” said the leader. “Oh yes, I’ve heard about your little white lies.”

“Ask him why he’s here,” said little Tommy, which earned him a “shush now” from his mother, Cupcake.

“Well, yes, as I understand it you’re some kind of emissary,” said the leader. “By the way, people call me Ellie. You might say I’m the president of our little tribe.”

“Tribe? It was our understanding that a group of ducks is called a flock, or a waddling,” Allen said. “Is tribe a more proper term?”

“Your understanding is correct, sir. When we’re flying, ‘flock’ will do nicely, and on the ground we are indeed a-waddling.”

“Oh, enough of this!” Cupcake cried. “Allen, my son believes you are here to conquer the world.”

“Tommy has a vivid imagination,” Allen said. “I come in peace, representing a federation of planets that are ready for space travel. Your forays to your moon have attracted some attention.”

“Well, yes,” said Ellie, “although I must admit our species has made only a few modest contributions to the space program.”

“Really?”

There was an awkward silence.

“Ducks don’t fly to the moon!” Tommy blurted.

“Are you here to offer us a seat in your federation?” Ellie said.

“I wonder if I should be speaking with the species in charge of your space program.”

“I’m not sure they would take you seriously,” said Count Duckula, who stood by Ellie’s side.

“Why is that?”

“The humans don’t think of us as an advanced species,” Duckzilla said ruefully.

“You seem advanced enough for me,” Allen said.

“Well, then,” said Ellie. “How do we begin?”

There was general cheering and applause, but Allen noticed that Tommy looked skeptical.

Influence

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It seems many people aspire to be an influencer when they grow up. And if you are among them, congratulations; you’re already there.

There’s some study that says your income will be the average of your five closest friends, and I’ll bet someone once or twice read a book or watched a movie that you recommended. 

What I’m trying to say is: Every darn one of us influences those around us all the time. We’re all influencers.

Our choices determine what kind of influence we have. You’ve no doubt seen the memes that say things like “Share a smile, they’re contagious” or “In a world where you can be anything, be kind.” Those memes exist to acknowledge your influence and encourage you to use this superpower for good.

So, again, if your goal is to be an influencer, congratulations. You’ve done it. I can’t guarantee you’ll get rich or even make a living at it, but you are definitely having an influence on everyone you meet.

What’s that? You don’t want to be an influencer? You don’t want to be noticed? People should not see you as a role model? Darn. I can’t help you there.

My only advice, for what it’s worth, is to do your best to be the best version of yourself. As long as you’re a born influencer, you may as well be good at it.

Now and then

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To illustrate the story of my poem and song “I’m Not Done” the other day, I decided to take another black and white selfie, and when I saw the results, I marveled at the difference.

When I first posted the poem in January 2024, yes, I wanted to look resolved and committed, and the other day I wanted to renew the commitment on the theme of “Still not done.”

But look at those two photos. One shows the lingering grief of losing my soulmate six months earlier. I may be defiantly proclaiming, “I’m not done,” but that guy is still lost. In the new photo, the twinkle in my eye is back and maybe I’m about to smile. One guy is resolved, the newer guy is mischievous.

Of course, there’s 30 more months of healing between the pictures, but what else?

Let me share a third picture and a story you may have heard from me before.

I went through more than three quarters of 2024 in a quiet haze. My memories of the year are mostly jumbled. I was going through the motions — I wasn’t done, but I wasn’t all there, either.

Finally, I imagine God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him.” I met Mary in church shortly before that Thanksgiving.

We come to church separately every Sunday; I play with the worship team, which arrives about an hour early to go through the hymns and songs, and Mary arrives about 15 minutes before the service. Not long ago a friend told me, “We can always tell when Mary has arrived, because you light up when you see her.”

I see something in the selfies we have taken that wasn’t there for a very long time — a big smile on my face. Because of how deep my love for Carol Jean was, and how desolate I was to lose her, finding a new soulmate has given me a joy as high as the grief was deep, an emotion not unlike that of a teenager’s first love. It’s not replacing my feelings for Cj; rather, my feelings for Cj made me understand how special and fragile love is, and I cherish this opportunity to love again.

Look at these two kids, the boy so happy he doesn’t care that smiling so wide exposes how crooked his teeth are, and the girl who knows her guy loves her to the moon and back. Never mind the wrinkles and the creaky joints; this is a boy and a girl, impossibly in love again after losing the loves of their lives.

And let me repeat what I say whenever I tell this story, to you who have not lost your soulmate and still can hold them near: Cherish every moment you have, and say “I love you” every chance you can.