The Alien in 36B
by Jennifer Stephan Kapral
The blood beneath the Alien's aqua skin rippled in waves. His immune system operated in overdrive, fighting all the microbes recirculating throughout the aircraft. The woman next to him in 36C kept coughing into her hand and then moving wrinkled magazines around on her tray table. Vibrant green and neon orange specs surrounded her, covered the table, and occasionally floated near him to mix with other specs in the air.
He was trying very, very hard not to create an incident.
Flying in a human airplane was not his first choice of transport. But as an experienced diplomat, he knew he had to attempt to live like a human, and today that meant traveling with the masses on a germ-infested, antiquated aircraft.
"Nice weather," said the woman in 36C.
The Alien steeled himself, anticipating an insult. "Indeed," he replied, carefully choosing each word. "Hopefully we won't have any delays."
"Were you in New York long?" the woman asked between coughs, green particles flying.
"No," said the Alien, shuddering at the thought of traveling to New York again anytime soon. The objects were way too bright, covered in layers and layers of robust bacteria. He lost his balance while riding in the subway and was forced to grab onto a rail that was sticky. He spent most of his visit disinfecting and trying to deflect all the abuses yelled at him in the street.
He remembered it was polite to ask a question in return. "How about you?"
The woman described her monthly commute to see her granddaughter in Queens and how she wished her daughter would move to D.C. The daughter has a high profile job and hates it, but won't leave. The woman pulled out her phone, and the Alien squinted through the plethora of germs on the screen to see a smiling baby. He chuckled. Human babies really were quite cute, despite being covered in a rainbow of microorganisms.
The woman smiled, though the Alien could sense her pain as tears welled in her eyes. She loves her daughter, but her granddaughter is everything to her. The Alien listened attentively as the conversation turned to her neighborhood in D.C.
"What would you like to drink... um... sir?" the flight attendant asked, interrupting 36C's restaurant recommendations.
