Visitors - Episode 1

"Mommy, there they are," shouted Cathy, my 8 year old, jumping completely off her seat, pointing to the transport, unlike anything we'd ever seen, coming in from the East.

"See what you made me do," I snapped, as coffee spilled down the front of my best dress, worn to greet the visitors. Immediately, I regretted the harsh tone.

"You're right sweetie!" I replied. "Your dad would be so proud of you for being chosen as a greeter." A sharp feeling of regret hit me. We both missed Joe, who'd been dead for 15 months now.

"Cathy, look at the people from all over the world," I said to distract her. "Different ways of dressing! Different languages!"

A sunny day, with just enough friendly puffy white clouds. Nice weather wasn't enough to calm my nervousness though, which was shared by the other greeters. No one knew for sure how or why we'd been chosen. The visitors simply sent a list down from their inter-planetary ship. Now it was time to find out.

The transport settled down on the pad in front of the grandstand. An opening appeared; a ramp extended down to the tarmac. Visitors started to emerge. They looked just like people!

The visitors after reaching the ground, were walking toward the grandstand. A mix of men and women, various ages. As they got close enough for their features to be made out, cries of happiness, if not shock, started to erupt from the greeters. Those who cried out, tended to jump up and rush down to meet a specific visitor.

"What's going on Mommy?" Cathy asked. I didn't know what to tell her.

Until I became one of the shouters.

That build, that hair, those eyes.

Joe, my husband, Cathy's father, our dead Joe, was one of the visitors.