Just after sunset, Mary Ellen Flynn crept behind the immaculately maintained boxwoods framing her new neighbor’s back door. There was just something suspicious about a man whose yard looked like an English country estate, yet who was never seen working in that yard. Not to mention, he’d won “Yard of the Month” three times in a row now. Mary Ellen had had enough. This evening, she was going to prove he was breaking the homeowners’ agreement. Somehow.
She’d brought a lemon meringue pie as a diversion, just in case she was spotted. Holding the aluminum plate out of her way, she leaned forward to peer in through the back porch window of the neat little Queen Anne home. She found herself looking straight into the kitchen. Bingo.
The room was lit only by the tiny light on the range hood over the stove. As Mary Ellen’s gaze roamed over the silhouettes of the appliances, cabinets, and a small, heavy table with two chairs, she heard footsteps approaching and ducked back so that the gauzy curtains would hide her from immediate notice. Her neighbor, who’d introduced himself at the last homeowner’s meeting as Haoyu Wang, shuffled into the kitchen, yawning widely.
Mary Ellen leaned closer to the window. Something was off about that yawn, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Wang’s fingers numbered six per hand, something Mary Ellen had noticed at the homeowner’s meeting. Highly unusual, but mutations did happen. And what was wrong with the man’s yawn? She leaned closer to the window.
Wang made his way across to the stove and put a kettle onto the front burner, flipping the dial around until the burner glowed red. Mary Ellen ducked back behind the curtain as he turned, but he merely opened the refrigerator, winced at the wedge of bright light, and removed a carton of half-and-half. As the kettle heated, Wang ground fresh beans and poured them into a French press. Mary Ellen heard the shrill whistle of the kettle just as her quarry reached for the handle and poured boiling water into the press. Five minutes later, with another yawn, he dropped into the chair nearest Mary Ellen’s hiding spot, propping his chin on one hand and sipping the hot coffee. Fortunately, he didn’t turn his head to look out the back window.
Wang looked as though he’d just woken up: short black hair standing on end, large gray eyes half-lidded, and wiry muscles loose. He didn’t look particularly suspicious, but Mary Ellen knew she was missing something. Nobody could take her “Yard of the Month” prize away from her that easily without something hinky going on.
As she stood there, her nose practically pressed up against Wang’s windowpane, Mary Ellen’s attention was caught by another prodigious yawn, this one close enough for her to spot the detail that had been worrying at the back of her mind. His teeth. They weren’t normal teeth at all. Instead, Wang’s mouth was filled with small, pointed fangs like a cat’s.
For a moment, Mary Ellen just stood there without breathing. She watched Wang sipping his coffee and scratching his head with the six fingers on his right hand. Then, everything caught up to her.
Wang was not human.
No wonder his yard was so perfect. He probably controlled the plants by some sort of force field. Mary Ellen’s heartbeat revved up to high speed. Her stomach twisted. A real live alien sat on the other side of a single pane of glass. Just as the thought surfaced, Wang reached one arm out to the drawer to his right, felt around a bit, then pulled out a small container.
Mary Ellen recognized the design. Dad’s dentures came in just such a container. She wasn’t too surprised to see Wang flip open the lid and pull out a set that looked just like the teeth her father owned—and the teeth inside her own head, for that matter. No wonder nobody noticed anything suspicious during the homeowner’s meetings. Wang slipped the false teeth over his fangs, clenching his jaws to settle the dentures into place. Then, he glanced at the window and his gaze met Mary Ellen’s. His eyes widened.
With a gasp, she leaped away from the glass. The pie plate slid from her grasp, splatting onto the porch. Mary Ellen heard Wang’s quick footsteps approaching the back door. She turned, her left shoe sliding in the pie. The steps were too far. She leaped over the boxwoods, landing on the lawn.
“Mrs. Flynn? Are you alright?” The perfectly ordinary voice was the last straw. With a muffled scream, Mary Ellen took off across the yard at full speed. She didn’t stop until she slammed her own back door behind her and flipped the deadbolt.
An alien. She had to do something. Wang must be an advance scout. He was going to scope them out, then call in the invasion force. She had to save the planet.
She had already punched the nine and one on her cellphone before she realized: the police would think she was crazy. How could she convince anybody that Wang was out to take over the world? Mary Ellen thought for a moment, then pulled out the neighborhood directory. It was time to activate the phone tree.
The following evening, the gardening committee–except for Edith, who was 92 and didn’t get out much anymore—convened in her living room. Mary Ellen wasn’t too surprised to see Wang’s blue Camry drive past the house. She bolted the front door and served homemade lemonade with one of her chiffon cakes. She still didn’t know exactly how to broach the subject. Finally, when Alison Sanders bluntly asked why they’d been asked here, Mary Ellen just blurted it out.
“Mr. Wang is an advance scout for an alien invasion.”
For a moment, her guests simply stared. Then, they glanced at one another. Furtive, sympathetic glances that said, “Poor thing, the heat has gotten to her.” Mary Ellen set down the pitcher and put her hands on her hips.
“I saw him,” she said firmly. “He has fangs. Six fingers. He’s not a human being.”
Lillian gasped. “An alien…!”
Katherine shoved to her feet, setting her half-eaten slice of cake back onto the coffee table. “Mr. Wang donated twenty loaves of fresh zucchini bread to the homeless shelter last week.”
Betsy chimed in. “He gave me a clipping from his prize-winning Dendrophylax lindenii—and showed me how to make it bloom.”
Despite herself, Mary Ellen felt a little pang of envy. She’d never been able to keep an orchid healthy enough to flower. She shook the feeling off, though, and faced the group.
“He’s just lulling you into a false sense of security,” she told them. “We have to stop him before the rest of the spaceships arrive.”
“Aliens!” cried Lillian.
“Oh, Mary Ellen,” said Katherine with a little shake of her head, “you’ve been watching those History Channel documentaries.” She nodded to the other women and, as one, they rose to their feet and trooped out the front door. Lillian hesitated for a moment, then sighed and followed the crowd.
“When’s the last time you watered these ferns?” Suzanne called as she pulled the door shut behind the parade.
Mary Ellen stomped one foot. She felt like throwing something. Why were people so blind? It’d serve them right if the aliens ate their faces.
It would have to be up to her to handle Wang. But how? Just as she sat down to think, a knock sounded at her front door. Had Lillian changed her mind? Mary Ellen hurried over and pulled the door open.
“I’m glad you’ve—” She broke off in mid-sentence. Mr. Wang stood on her front porch, a plastic-wrapped loaf extended in her direction.
“You should water the ferns,” he said in that polite tone that got on her last nerve. Before she could scream, he slipped beneath her extended arm into the foyer, then gently closed the door.
“You’re not going to get away with it,” Mary Ellen said, backing away. A weapon—she needed a weapon.
“With what—winning ‘Yard of the Month’ again?” Wang followed her into the kitchen. He set the bread on the counter and pushed it gently in her direction.
“With the invasion, you imposter!” Mary Ellen stared at the bread, then at Wang. The hand she’d stretched out to the knife block hesitated.
“There’s no invasion,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Do you have any coffee?”
“What do you mean ‘no invasion’?”
Wang pulled out a chair and sat. “Coffee would be nice. Why invade? Your species is already enslaved by your own Homeowners Associations. I cancelled the whole thing weeks ago.”
Mary Ellen dropped into another chair. She stared at the alien. Wang stared back.
“No invasion….”
Wang shook his head. “No need. You’re already owned. We can’t defeat the HOA.”
“Oh” Mary Ellen reached for the coffeepot on the counter. “Cream?”