My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

21

It was difficult to stay asleep as the ringing in my ears was getting incessant.

“Hmm? Yes?” I heard Emmie ask sleepily. “Harry, it’s the front desk. Harry! Wake up,” she scolded as she shook my shoulder.

“You take it…” I managed and snuggled back down into the pillow, absorbing the light lavender scent of the pillow case.

I found the receiver being placed into hand, the mouthpiece on my lips.

I took the hint.

“Nelson.”

“Admiral, you have a call from the White House. They couldn’t get through to your cell phone. No tone at all, so the battery is probably down. Shall I transfer the call to your room?”

“Er, yeah, sure….”

Two clicks later we were connected.

“Admiral Nelson? This is the White House switchboard. The president’s requested that you and Mrs. Nelson attend him as soon as possible. There is already a car on its way to your hotel. May we confirm?”

“What time is it?” I yawned, not bothering to reawake Emmie who’d returned to sleep and blocked my view of the bedside clock.

“3:30 A.M.”

“Can’t it wait?” I whined. At least that’s what it sounded like I’d whined, “sorry. Yeah…when will the car arrive?”

“According to the Secret Service tag, it should be pulling up to your hotel right now.”

“Oh shit,” I mumbled.

“The president apologized personally for the hour, sir, but said it was urgent that you and Mrs. Nelson join him to welcome the mother of the bride. Her spaceship is already in orbit and….”

“I get the idea…we’ll hurry.”

“I’ll confirm that you will be arriving soon."

Click.

“Sweetheart?” I said shaking Emmie.

“Go awayyyy.”

“Lee needs us.”

“Needs or just wants? Gawd, Harry, it’s the middle of

the night.”

“The mother-in-law is landing shortly.”

No response.

“You know, Melody’s mother, our alien visitor from

outer space?”

“She sure could have used a more convenient time…okay okay. I ‘m getting up. We have time for a shower?”

“Even if we don’t, we’re not going without one. But hurry. Good thing this place has two.”

By the time we’d showered, dressed, combed our hair, brushed our teeth, and put on something presentable, we found a rather impatient Secret Service agent at the front desk waiting for us, the limo's engine running and two police motorcycle cops, one in front, one behind, apping their feet.

“Sorry we couldn’t manage any sooner,” I told the agent. 

He didn’t respond. I suppose he couldn’t. While there weren’t many hotel guests about at the hour, there were a few, and a presidential limo was of some interest. Especially as this car had the presidential flag flying. Which was not standard procedure...unless the president was inside. Hard to tell due to the blackout windows and foyer lights.

 Too nervous to meet the ball and chain’s mother by yourself, Lee?” Emmie asked as soon as we entered the limo. “Gawd, couldn’t you just let us meet her tomorrow?”

“Sorry,” Lee said, nursing an ice cold canned Martini. “Want me to let you out?”

“You really are nervous about this, aren’t you?” I asked him.

“Mom’s upset with me too. She was having a nice dream. But…we’re family, after all. If you’d rather not accompany me, either of you, I understand…”

“Well,” I said, “I’m game. How about you, Emmie?”

“I didn’t rush getting showered and dressed for nothing. Let’s go, Lee.”

Lee tapped on the front window to the driver’s cockpit and we took off, our motorcycle escort’s lights flashing but with no sirens, as we careened through the D.C. traffic, or rather lack of it. 

The rain had pretty much stopped, but the roads were still wet and the city’s illuminated landmarks sparkled in the reflection.

“I’ll have one of those, if you have more,” I said of Lee’s Martini.

He pulled open a compartment revealing a flat fridge graced with mini bottles and cans of spirits.

“Help yourselves.”

And so, we relaxed a little with some false courage, at least Lee did, as we neared our destination.

We’d barely been waved through the gate and driven up to the main entrance when Melody, Joe, and Mrs. C. came out to greet us.

“Just in time, bro,” Joe told Lee. “She transferred to the captain’s ship, and they’re coming together in his shuttle.”

Melody took my and Lee's arms as he was informed by Numbers that the moment was upon us. We all headed a little closer to the marked lawn.

By now a small crowd had formed outside the fencing, still guarded by the National Guard, and now, Marines, and U.S.Army. Everyone was looking up and pointing to the descending shuttle.

It only took a few moments for the hatch to open after landing and the captain and his wife strode down.

Similar in appearance to Melody, Lee's soon to be mother-in-law had lost most of her pink hair and what there was of it was streaked with white and green. Her blue skin was mottled with green and had a few growths like moles with strands of white hair protruding from them. Folds of skin like what we’d called ‘turkey wattle’ graced her neck and under her eyes.

Melody ran up to her parents and embraced them happily.

“Captain, Ma’am,” Lee said, extending his hand. “I’m Lee.”

“Yes,” she said. “I have been in-struc-ted in who you are and in your ri-di-cu-lous language.”

“May I introduce you to my mother, Mrs. Crane, my father Harriman Nelson, and my step-mother Emily Nelson. I believe you’ve spoken with Commander Jackson when Lt. Numbers was in touch….”

“Yes, yes…now if we’re fin-ished with pro-to-col, let’s get out of this damn Earth air….”

“You must for-give my wife,” the captain said. “Our breathing mixture is a bit more…robust than yours.”

“No offense taken,” Lee said, and extended his arm to escort the troll like lady.

“I do not require assistance.”

Melody sang something to which she replied in her own tunes, exasperated.

“My daughter tells me that you were only being po-lite. No offense was intended.”

“None taken,” Lee said and offered his arm again, which she took.

“I only accept your bonding for my daughter’s sake, and as you are a human of importance, but you’re so damn ugly.”

“That I am,” Lee laughed, “but she loves me anyway.”

It was going to be a long night.