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    Mikiesboy
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Only Prompts - 20. The Class

Prompt 681

The class

When you were hired, you were told you’d be teaching English as a second language to aliens, and you’d have five students. When you heard aliens, you thought you meant children from somewhere south of the border or perhaps Asian. Instead there are five literal aliens from another world. What do you do?

The Class

 

 

I was excited when the alarm went off. My first job in nearly six months and I wanted to be fresh, clean and on my toes. I was going to teach English to some aliens. It was all very mysterious.

_____

Two weeks earlier I’d applied for the job after seeing it in the paper. The Government was looking for English Lit majors for some lucrative positions teaching English as a Second Language. I’d called and was told there was a profile I had to fit in order to be considered acceptable to come in and interview. So, the woman on the phone asked me about one hundred questions.

Things like; did I have a sensitive stomach or did strong smells bother me? Did I trust my government? Do I get motion sickness, and would a steady diet of bland food for say a week, or maybe a month get me down? Do your friends trust you with secrets?

It all seemed rather odd but I answered them.

“Any questions for us, Mr. Harper?”

“Um, yes just are these aliens Asian, Russian, Portuguese, or what?”

“Yes, correct. Thank you, we’ll be in touch.”

They are Asian-Russian-Portuguese? Weird. I put down the phone.

 

A few days later I was invited for a brisk and short interview. During said meeting I was told I’d be expected to stay on the base for at least a month.

“Will that be a problem, Mr. Harper?” Captain Jack Everett stood on the opposite side from where I sat in a steel folding chair. His massive hands planted themselves on the metal table. His voice echoed off the blue-cement walls. He loomed over me as I replied, “No, sir. Not at all. What do you mean by base, exactly? Where will I be going?”

“Exactly right. That’s excellent. That concludes this interview. You will hear from me in two days.”

I got quickly to my feet. “Yes, sir. Thank you for the opportunity, but I do have a ….”

My right hand was engulfed by his as we shook.

“Thank you, Mr. Harper. That’s all for now. Good day.”

With that he turned on his heel and marched out of the room.

 

The following day I got a phone call from Captain Everett’s aide saying I’d been accepted. A car would pick me up in the morning. I could bring the clothes I had on, and toiletries, only. Anything more I required would be provided for me.

“Okay, but can I know where—”

“Thank you, Mr. Harper. This a great opportunity. Good luck!” There was a click and then a dial tone.

I put the phone down. It was a little unsettling that no one would answer my questions. However, I pushed that to the back of my mind. After all, if you can’t trust the government, who can you trust?

 

____

I got up after the alarm and showered. I dressed in a nice soft-yellow polo shirt and blue jeans. I packed my toiletries. I made a quick breakfast of toast and coffee. Then washed the few dishes and put them away.

My landlady had taken my few plants to mind for me while I was gone. I’d given her my rent cheques for the next two months, just in case.

I’d told friends I’d be away teaching Asian Russians, English as a Second Language. They’d assumed, as did I, that I was going to some foreign country to teach. They were happy and excited for me.

The car arrived at 8:30am, on-the-dot. A man in black got out. “Dean Harper?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

His sunglasses were black. He walked around the car and pulled the back door open. “I’m Bowen, your driver. Please step in.”

I looked at Bowen and then the car. It wasn’t black. It was the darkest green I’d ever seen. Realizing I was wasting time, I quickly got in and settled myself. The driver closed the door. A moment later he was in the driver’s seat. The car pulled away smoothly from the curb.

I was on my way!

 

I was driven to a building in a rundown neighbourhood. I went in dressed as me and came out in fatigues. This time I was loaded in the back of a truck and driven for three hours to a closed air force base. At least it looked like one.

During all of this no one would give me straight out answers to my questions. I was told there would be a flight to my final destination. I had been given—and gratefully too—some air sickness pills.

Next, I was driven out to a strange looking plane. It resembled a stealth bomber, but was smaller.

There was an airman waiting. “Up the ladder, please.”

“No.”

“Sir, you need to climb the ladder.”

“No. Look, I’ve been ignored for days.” I stood with my hands on my hips. “I’m not going until you tell me ….”

“Is there an issue, airman?”

The voice was deep and came from behind me.

The airman saluted. “No, Captain Peterson. This passenger was just asking about the aircraft, sir.”

“Well. Perhaps I can strap him in and answer at the same time.”

The Captain walked around to face me. He was huge, just as Captain Everett had been. Did they feed these guys growth serum or something?

“So, … Mr., um?”

“Harper, Dean Harper.”

“Excellent. I’m your pilot today, Mr. Harper. We are on a schedule as you have classes to teach, I believe.” He stepped closer to me; I had to crane my neck to look up at him. “For which, I’m told, they are paying you an obscene amount of money … tax free. It’s my job to have you there on time. And we will be on time, Mr. Dean Harper. One way, or my way. I am clear?”

Shit. I swallowed. “Yes, yes, you are perfectly clear, Captain.”

The giant stepped back. “Excellent. Climb the ladder. Let Airman James do his job.”

I climbed and got into the seat. The pilot came after me and climbed into the front seat. He was followed by Airman James, who strapped me in, put an oxygen mask around my neck, placed a set of headphones on and attached a mic.

“Please say, test, test, test.”

I did so, and Captain Peterson replied, “Excellent. You are loud and clear.” He turned to the airman. “James get your ass off my plane. It’s time to lock and load.”

“Yes, sir.” James climbed down after giving me the thumbs up.

 

Once in the air, the mad pilot said, “Have a nice sleep, Mr. Dean Harper.”

Needless to say, the air sickness pills were sleeping pills. I don’t recall any more of the journey.

 

I awoke in a very comfortable bed. The room was functional. Beside the bed was a small table which held an insulated glass with ice water. I sat up slowly and took a drink. Suddenly, I needed the bathroom and I made my way there slowly. I was dressed only in green regulation boxers and a t-shirt.

As I returned, there was a brisk rapping on the door. “Mr. Harper. May I enter?”

“Yes. Come in.”

The door swung open. “Mr. Harper, breakfast is ready, and then your first class is at 9am sharp. It is 7:30am currently.”

I was missing a number of hours it seemed.

 

“Oh, yes. Thank you …?”

“Chalmers, sir. Airman First Class.”

“Thank you. I’ll shower and then come to breakfast?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll wait outside for you.”

I supposed that was because I had no idea where I was, or where anything was. “Right … thank you, Airman Chalmers.”

The young man smartly took step back and pulled the door closed.

 

I showered and dressed in fresh fatigues, which had my name and ‘rank’, ESL Instructor, sewn onto them. If nothing else, they were efficient here.

Airman Chalmers was there in the corridor waiting and he led me to the mess hall. I mentioned I had no money with me.

“Money is not required, Mr. Harper. We are provided with three meals a day. In between you can come here anytime for soft drinks, water or coffee. In addition, fruit and other snacks are available.”

“I see. Thank you very much Mr. Chalmers.”

“Just Chalmers, sir.”

 

Breakfast was pleasant. There were a huge variety of choices to be had.

After my repast, Chalmers led me to my classroom. We entered; it looked like a typical instruction room.

“I’ll leave now, Mr. Harper. This is a beeper. Please press the yellow button if you need me. The red one is for emergency use.”

“Thank you.” I took the little device and hooked it onto my belt.

“Yes, sir. Have a good morning, Mr. Harper.” Chalmers then took his leave.

 

I turned my attention to the desk in front of me. There was a timetable for the students, a lesson plan. All the required text books were there. I quickly read through the lesson plans. The timetable and suggested timing for learning seemed very fast to me.

“But this can’t be their first time. They are so prepared ….” I mumbled.

My thoughts turned to what I was now hearing in the hall. There were three sharp knocks, which I answered.

“Enter.”

The door opened and six people entered. Shuffled. They each selected a desk and sat down. They looked at me.

I looked back. I needed a moment to catch my breath.

“Are you all right?” One of them spoke to me in a voice I can only describe as moist. I swiveled my head to gaze at him.

They were aliens, not Portuguese ones, no, these were the colour of fresh asparagus.

I smiled. They hissed.

“I’m Mr. Harper, your instructor. Please tell me who you are.” I pointed to the one who spoke earlier. “You, please start.”

He stood up again. “I am Dal’al. I am, we are from planet Umual, in Universe 2. We are here on an exchange program. This week we learn better English.”

 

Cultural exchange? I swallowed and thought about all the questions I’d answered, the weird interviews, the giants, now asparagus-coloured humanoids. Then I thought about the money.

After hearing from the remaining five, it was time to move on.

“Right. Let’s get started. We have a number of things to cover before lunch.” I picked up the textbooks and gave them to a female to pass out. I glanced at the learning plan and smiled.

As Captain Peterson would say, “Excellent!”

 

I settled on the front of my desk. “Let’s start with the basics and one of the best in my opinion. Mr. William Shakespeare.”

The collective groan was loud enough to be heard across the Universe.

Somethings never change.

 

 

 

C’est fini.

Hope you enjoyed this little piece. Many thanks to my wonderful editor, @AC Benus
Also to my Beta Reader, @mollyhousemouse. You are both invaluable to me. xo


Thanks to all of you who read! I love to hear from you.
Copyright © 2017 Mikiesboy; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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Well done boy. Lock n load! Haha! I do seem to recall that very same groan from my grade 11 English class!  Great story tim.

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