This is the final piece, Part 6 of 6. If you have not done so yet, please read the first parts of this story (see my blog) before proceeding. This story is a work of fiction. If you like bad B movies, this is the next best thing. I'll return with my customary non-fiction blog posts as soon as this beast has been slain.

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The window paper began to tear as I scratched it! This was some thick stuff that the bees had applied to keep out the light, but I had torn two big strips. Light came in through the shredded paper as my feet slid to rest on the window frame.

The sunlight burst in like a ray of hope from heaven; it struck the Heffabees just behind me. As it did, there was a smell of burning protein and artificial lime scent, making me recall the nasty green Kool-Aid that I’d consumed with the Nigaraguan piano player/beauty pageant survivor with whom I had become intimate. And the Heffabee creatures transformed into angels with green fingers. I almost kicked another one that came too close, but then I saw its kind face and realized this was a benevolent being. He looked a lot like my uncle. I was overjoyed that my Uncle Julius had been reincarnated into something more ascendant than a fat, striped mosquito.

In the distance, I heard Christela scream. She was in some kind of trouble, but she’d have to extricate herself this time. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to guess that they’d find her after she started playing the church organ, so she would have activated her escape plan by now. I would have gone back to save her, but…actually I wouldn’t. My body was still recovering from her assaults.

Saving the world from hypodermic pachyderms was enough of an accomplishment for the hero in me. I had grown to love Christela, but part of love is letting the other person stand on her own two feet and becoming her own heroine. Let the distressed damsel get herself out; I had effectively neutralized the Heffabees and almost single-handedly saved humanity.

The clouds parted overhead. All around me, I could hear choruses and see chariots descending in a shower of gold dust. I expected to see the hand of God reaching a finger down to bring me to life, but instead came a dozen spacecraft. Could I hitch a ride to heaven?

First, I had to get out to the roof. Using the microphone cable wire that I had been swinging on, I formed a noose and waved it around until a flying green angel came close.

“Yeehaw,” I shouted, sorry that I’d left my cowboy hat at home.

Tossing the cable, I lassoed the angel around the neck and pulled myself onto its back. I was aiming for heaven to see if I could capture Christela’s ghost before it flew too high. But as soon as my angel-horse cleared the upper window, I took the first stop and slid down onto the roof of the church. It had an excellent view of the arrival above where the loading of the spaceships had begun.

The air was full of chariots, taking on cases of peanuts. So that was how we were paying down the federal deficit; they must not have arable soil on Kepler-12229x or whatever the name of their home planet. Could our destination really be heaven if the peanuts needed to be imported? These were not Ben Hur chariots, since each one was in the shape of a flying saucer. As I climbed out onto the roof, one of the UFOs approached me.

The craft was small and resembled a mustard seed, made from brushed titanium alloy and lit up like a candle through the porthole windows. There could not be room on board this ship for more than one person (or perhaps two under highly intimate circumstances). Its doors opened as mist and surrounded me. I tried to ignore the marching music played on a cheap keyboard in the background. For some reason, I always confuse the Wagner wedding march and the Elgar graduation song, so I don’t know which one it was. Maybe they played them both.

Knowing instinctively that the wheel in the sky was the next step in my life’s journey, I took my leap of faith off the roof, towards the sound of music, through the mist, and into the flying mustard seed ship. That may sound like a lot for humankind, but I had already done my part to save them: this was just one big step for me. To my rear, the door hissed like a serpent and snapped closed.

At first, I thought I was alone. But as the ship took off for the stars and the mist faded, I saw one lone figure, fully clothed, stand up from the ship’s console…Christela!

She smiled and held up a box. My first guess was Easter candy. Alas, it was the remainder of the church’s peanut jars along with a case of the kosher wine and a basket of apples that I hadn’t seen before. Christela had already dug into the apples and was eating one. How had she gotten all this food and drink on board the ship? And for that matter, how had Christela gotten herself on board?

“We have a journey of many light years ahead of us,” said the Nicaraguan pianist, putting her arm around my shoulders. “Let’s have some fun on the way.”

And thus, one trip ended, but had another just begun?

Encore! Encore!

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Bonus Epilogue: I Hit the Snooze Button and Bought a Few More Minutes

At that time, I did not think about Miss Nicaragua’s fingers, which were curling around me in a warm embrace. But when I glanced in the reflective titanium surface on the far side of the spacecraft, I could see a green tinge to her elongated digits. A pianist needed long fingers, yes. But I had experienced a lot from her fingers over these past few days; part of me doubted that they had been this long before.

Suddenly, everything on the ship was looking slightly off-color and out of proportion. I found this perspective slightly dizzying. Was it the bad fluorescent lighting on this flying saucer or was Christela an alien shape-shifter?

The ship wasn’t much more than an escape pod built for two. As we passed out of the dark and stormy atmosphere, we changed our trajectory and set a course for Andromeda. Smiling at Christela, I shook off all thoughts of aliens and shook out a handful of peanuts from the jar.

Out the plate glass porthole windows of the flying saucer, I could see the dark and stormy place where we had been when the ship lifted off. Now, the earth spread out below us, and it was round like the pictures, but not quite so blue.

Christela brushed up against me. I briefly recalled the demise of my self-imposed vow against pre-marital relations, which had been suspended in light of my relationship with this woman. With her on board, I was going to need energy. As I lifted some peanuts to my mouth, it occurred to me that my hand was looking slightly green.

The End. Really. This was Part 6 of 6. It's finally done.

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The rights to this work of fiction are held by the author, who created the montage image with public domain and properly licensed stock images. The Heffalump bee image was adapted from an old Winnie the Pooh video, the rights to which are held by Disney.