Sky People by Ardy Sixkiller Clarke Read Free Book Online Page A

Our security guard overheard you talking to your driver. He was curious that you were interested in UFOs. We don’t meet too many people with such interest, mostly white men who have no respect. He told one of the housekeepers who was his wife, about what you were doing, and she told my wife, and that is how it got back to me. Words have feet in a small hotel. We like to know all about our guests. I live many lives behind this desk and travel the world without ever leaving through the lives of my guests. Doctor, your life makes me very curious.”
    “Why are you so curious?” I asked.
    “A woman alone. Traveling through Belize looking for UFOs. That is curious.”
    “I’m not looking for UFOs, although I must admit, I would be happy to see one,” I said. “I am collecting stories about UFOs. I am retracing, as much as possible, the footsteps of Stephens and Catherwood, and along the way, I collect stories from indigenous people about their encounters with UFOs. That’s my story.”
    “I see. Stephens and Catherwood, eh? I know them. They are dead dudes. Why would you follow two dead dudes?”
    “It’s a teenage promise from a long time ago,” I said, offering him more information than I had planned.
    “I see. You underestimate yourself, dear lady. You are very curious. Few men have tried to follow Stephens and Catherwood. Occasionally I see someone looking for stories about UFOs, but they do not possess the methods needed to get the local people to talk. You, on the other hand, seem to be able to touch people’s hearts and souls. I see how everybody talks to you from the child on the street, the housekeeper, the waiter, the beggar. I’ve observed you. People are curious about you, too. If you run out of people to talk to, come see me.” He paused and handed a letter to a guest before continuing. “If you want a true story, from an indigenous man—
me
—I will tell you a true one that I experienced when I was a young man.”
    When Buddy dropped me off shortly after midnight the next evening, I made my way to the front desk. Alexandro Jean was sitting behind the counter watching a small TV. He stood when I approached.
    “I’ve stopped by to hear your story,” I announced.
    Alexandro smiled and showed me to two chairs near a large window that faced the street. “Could I get you some coffee, tea, or a soft drink?” he asked as I pulled out my notebook.
    “No. I really don’t need anything. I just want to hear your story.”
    “You are all business, Doctor. So I will keep to business.” He sat down, pulled a coffee table closer, and propped up his feet. “I hope you do not mind,” he said, pointing to his feet. I shook my head and he began.
    “I will start at the beginning. I did not always live in Belize City, but in a rural village about sixty miles from here. I left for Belize City when I was about twenty. My encounter occurred the summer I was eighteen. There were four of us, my friends and me. We grew up together. Albert was with me. He was my cousin. There was my best friend, Javier, and his brother, Jean. There was an abandoned Maya city near our village. It was small and the government never restored it. I think there have been archaeologists working there the last couple of years, but when I was a boy, it was deserted. We often left the village and went there with our alcohol. We could get drunk and no one would stop us. Our mothers and grandmothers did not like us to drink. If they caught us with alcohol, they would beat us.” He paused and laughed about his remembrance.
    “Are you telling me you were drunk when you had your encounter?” I asked.
    “No. I was not drunk. We went there to drink, but we had not had anything to drink when we saw the space men.”
    “Can you tell me exactly what happened?”
    “The first thing I remember was the smell. When we approached the site, there was a strange, unfamiliar odor. Jean pointed it out immediately and we all agreed he was right. It wasa