Believers
"Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there-on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam."
- Carl Sagan
It was the seventh UFO sighting in 1990 when the reporters came. They flocked across the country with cameras and microphones and everybody in the town of Federal had an encounter to share.
Some said they were grey and some said they were green, some said their ships were silver and some said they were invisible. But either way, everybody in town had something to say about aliens.
The summer was hot and wet and everyone had seen something extraterrestrial in the sky by May. Or almost everyone, at least. The journalists who weren’t writing about why the beings had come to visit their little town were writing about every so called “hoax” they could get their hands on. Still, the sightings were kept to the town’s little secret, their common experience. The pride of Federal, UFOs and state renowned pie-baking contests.
But on the seventh UFO sighting, an old woman with a rat’s nest of hair took a picture, and sent it to her daughter, and her daughter sent it to someone else, and someone else sent it to another someone. And by the end of the week, the picture was everywhere. News websites and conspiracy websites lit up like wildfire, and everybody knew the name of a small town called Federal, Arizona.
Everyone who could believe packed up their cars and cameras and swarmed upon the town, hungry to hear stories and theories and see pictures. Most of them never got the experience of seeing anything life-changing, but the novelty of it was enough.
The great migration of believers: there and back again. And most of them left disappointed, dragging their feet because they didn’t get to see a UFO. They bought their cheesy tee-shirts (my mom saw an alien and all I got was this stupid tee-shirt!) and their posters and coffee mugs with the photo on them, and they left with their trunks packed without knowing any better.
But some stayed. In every flock of skeptics and believers, some found the attachment they were looking for. So they set up shop, cameras and journals. They wanted to know more, so they uprooted their lives to do so.
The Mulder family was one of them. They packed up the moving truck and their 2 and 6 year old, and took them to find the truth they believed so wholly in. In doing so, they left everything behind.
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Skinner High School got out on May 31st. Students whooped and hollered with new-found liberation. Finally, summer! Every exam was complete and every grade was in. The sweet taste of freedom
Buses ferried home the freshman and sophomores, and the juniors and seniors sped out of the lot in their hand-me-down and cheap cars. Music blasted on the road outside, and the town was lit up with spirit. School was out, and summer was in.
Fox Mulder was on his way to the Little Alien Diner with his best friends, Frohike, Langly, and Byers. The windows were down and the radio was blasting. He had one year of high school left, and the giddy feeling was overwhelming.
Byers sat across from him with his back to the window, furiously typing on his phone. There was some girl, apparently, who he was so desperately in love with that he stared longingly out windows more than a teenage girl in a chick flick.
“Oh cheer up Byers, it could be worse. She could hate you!” Langly said, trying to be comforting. Frohike groaned, hating that his relationship status was such a frequent joke among his friends.
Mulder snorted. “I wouldn’t say she hates you, I would just say you’re taking the wrong approach. Trying to get a girl by slapping her ass -or trying to- never worked for me.”
“It also makes you look like an ass.” Byers added, and the other two nodded. Frohike rolled his eyes.
The conversation was about a particular redhead who had caught every boy’s eye in the whole school. Partially because she was unattainable, and partially because she had punched every boy who had made an unwanted advance, including Frohike and eight others.
“The black eye was worth it. It was the only intimacy we’ve ever had!”
Mulder grinned and sat his chin on a folded arm, facing out the window. “Or ever will.”
“Damn, that’s cold, Fox.” Langly said as they pulled into the parking lot.
The diner was a million years old, originating to when the town was a hotspot for crowds of people parked out on the side of country roads, looking for the sight that could make them a legend. They could be better than the best! Take an “undeniable” photo, purchase evidence of a
“real alien aircraft” (scrap metal), or even get abducted, if they were lucky enough.
But most people never succeeded. They went home with all their merchandise and disappointment, but would go back again and again, always searching, always wanting. They would get alien head tattoos and bumper stickers and write false columns about their adventure in space.
The diner thrived in those days, everyone wanting to take a picture with the alien sculpture relaxing on the bench out front. It was a go-to destination.
Bells dinged as the four boys entered the front door. It was their frequent hangout for lunches on school days and every meal during the summer. The waitress grinned at the sight of them, waving a hand to their usual booth. “Our most prized customers.”
The menu presented many cheesy UFO themed entrees such as the Flying Saucer Burger, complete with a fried egg on top. The thing was greasy as all hell and the french fries on the side were even more. The four all ordered the burger along with the EBE Milkshake, which had an alien print glass.
Besides the food, the decorations were even more corny. Shiny silver UFO’s hung from the ceiling and reported flying saucer sighting photographs adorned the walls. The tables were dirty and scratched, and the tile floors were chipping with age and the marks of many footprints.
The diner was corny and old but it was so authentically home to the people of Federal, and especially to Mulder. He’d lived in the tourist trap of a town for almost twelve years, and the waving alien printed on the welcome sign; the giant spaceship landmark: it was cheesy, but it was the only place he really had ever known.
Byers flipped open his phone as they sat and resumed typing furiously, and it wasn’t discernible whether he was fighting with the recipient or whether he was just really, really passionate about whatever they were talking about.
“She’s a genius, and her parents are too! She’s got a real path on the road to being a world-renowned scientist.” Byers defended, after noticing the judging looks of his friends.
“You’ve got a real crush on this Modeski girl.” Said Frohike, and Byers looked embarrassed.
“We were just discussing theories! I have a lot of ideas.”
Langly coughed to interrupt the two. “Anyway, we’ve got a whole summer ahead of us. We’ve got to make this one the best one yet! We've got to find real proof. ”
“Next summer we all go off to college.” Mulder added conveniently.
“We have a lot of work to do on the next issue of The Lone Gunmen”
“I just don’t know what to write about. We haven’t had anything significant sightings in this town since the nineties, and we’re running out of old stuff to write about.”
The four had devoted the last two years of their lives to a so-called conspiracy newspaper called The Lone Gunmen. The problem was that Federal had become a sort of deadzone for the whole UFO thing in recent years, and there wasn’t much to write about anymore.
“We missed the heat! All the excitement has already passed.” Complained Frohike. “We were born too late!”
“I’m sure something is bound to happen.” Mulder said. “More stuff always happens in summer.”