Tales of Ordinary Magic 3: "An interstellar deva."
- Kindred Spirit | Mind Body and Spirit
Steve is an old friend of mine. He’s 6’2”, balding, with a blaze of white hair about his shoulders, and a bright green beard.
He says he is an alien.
When I first knew him I thought this was some kind of a joke, a metaphor for how he felt in relation to the rest of the world. Later I began to realise that he meant it.
One day I gave him a lift in my Morris Minor. Steve got in and I asked him to do up his seatbelt. There was some puzzled fumbling lasting at least half a minute. He had one half of the seatbelt in one hand, and the other half in the other, and he was waving them about in the air. It was like he didn’t even know what a seatbelt was for. I caught this look on his face - bewilderment and consternation - and I laughed.
“Come here,” I said, and did the seatbelt up for him.
That’s when I decided that he really might be an alien after all. It was clear that the very concept of “seatbelt” was something alien to him.
Steve says that he always felt out of place. As a boy he loved nature, and was always out and about, wading in ponds and rock pools, or wandering around in the woods, observing the life there.
He used to collect creatures too: caterpillars in jars, and field voles and shrews, and exotic things he'd get by mail order, like silk moths and stick insects. But human beings always puzzled him.
The other boys also collected creatures: but whereas Steve collected insects in order to observe them and watch them grow, the other boys caught insects in order to pull their legs off; and whereas Steve collected newts in order to breed them, the other boys collected newts so they could throw them on the grass and flick knives at them.
So it’s a matter of opinion whether it’s Steve who is the alien. He is perfectly at ease with the other creatures on this planet. Maybe it’s the Earthlings who don’t belong here.
It was Steve who introduced me to V. That was what he called himself: “V”.
I never met him in person, though I used to exchange letters with him for a while.
Well I say “he” and “him” but this is really for ease of expression, since, according to his own testimony, he is neither male nor female, but some kind of a galactic gynandromorph .
V claims to be an alien, or - to put it more precisely - a Kaiana, an interstellar deva, the earthbound fragment of a being called Aona, with whom s/he will merge at some future date, and emerge, like a caterpillar out of its chrysalis, as some entirely new species of being altogether.
I used to like writing to V. It’s not often you get to receive letters with such unusual concepts in them.
I never quite knew how to picture him, however. I mean: what does an interstellar deva look like? Do interstellar devas ever go shopping, for instance? What would it be like to stand behind an interstellar deva in the shopping queue in Tescos? These are the sorts of questions that interest me.
Steve used to have one of V’s paintings on his wall. It was very well executed, hyper-real. It was of an intergalactic female-type creature, blue with white hair, with scales instead of nipples, very attractive in an alien sort of way, giving you this arch, sensual, come-to-bed look.
Steve said, "if you look at her before you go to sleep, she will come to you in your dreams."
I think this might have been Aona, the creature with whom V hopes to merge one day. But despite the fact that he never made it clear – in fact did everything in his power to disguise it - I was never in any doubt that V himself, in his Earth-bound incarnation, was a man.
One day he wrote to tell me that he’d been having trouble with his wisdom teeth. It had been a very painful experience, he told me.
“Who invented teeth?” he asked peevishly. “Nature is very inefficient.”
In the end I think that V was alienated from his own body.
Buy CJ Stone's books here
- Amazon.co.uk:CJ Stone Storefront
Signed copies available. Go to "collectibles".
More by this Author
Somerset Meadows is a nice place to live. CJStone sees all sorts of interesting things through his window. Columns from Kindred Spirit magazine.
I was first commissioned to write for Kindred Spirit late in 2008, by the new editor at the time, Tania Ahsan. Previously I had written for Prediction magazine, which I had run a column for for nearly five years, from...
This, to me, is the ultimately heroic trait of ordinary people; they say no to the tyrant and they calmly take the consequences of this resistance....