Day 61 Writing Short Stories

Pack

Signals—that was what she had been looking for most of her life. She smoothed her hand over her gray hair, wondering when it had become so coarse. It used to be silky smooth, thin, and light; now the hair was thick, and you could weave sweaters from the strands.

She sighed, turning her attention back to the signal; her specialty of them: radio waves. She left the other waves for the other scientists, specializing in gravity, time, atoms, friction, and the other ways the universe communicated what was what. There were capable young professionals to figure those things out without the need of an old kook like her, who had been through the whole process of search and fame with all the awards and speeches. She had let them cast her aside for the new and hungry, especially as she found it hard to concentrate on pursuing projects that big tech companies would fund. Here and now, in her early retirement with like-minded sponsors, she had all the time in the world to pursue her absurd desire for a signal that would tell her and the rest of the world that there was intelligent life beyond Earth.

That was what she was looking for: testing all the ways another species might communicate, thinking the impossible and not settling with how things are, ought to be, and should be.

With all the extra money she had lying around, she bought time at the observatory with the telescope that had been part of her so long as a researcher and now as an old kook. The screen flickered as she focused the telescope on a sector she had looked through so many times. This time, she had tuned the radio sequence lower, going back to the old ways. She was alone in the observatory. She cherished those rare moments of solitude. It was like birdwatching. You thought you needed company, but all you wanted was to be alone in silence once you got there.

She put her headphones on and listened to the radio frequencies of the universe. Against the hollow, metallic hum of the planets, she occasionally returned to the sound Earth emitted: a whale song like a whistle, to center her focus.

The night escaped as the early morning rays shooed the darkness away. Her time slot was soon over, forcing her to leave without having found what she was looking for and return home to walk and feed her cat and dog. The Maine Coon, Cosmo, was her pride and joy. The cat was more of a dog than a feline, following his big sister’s ways. The mongrel, Laika, she had found as a puppy outside her steps, had shown her younger brother what it meant to live in the desert with four paws and a tail, and most importantly, what the cat needed to do to survive her scattered focus. Together, they made sure she remembered to feed them and play with them. Together, they made her life worth the trouble.

She got up from the telescope and logged out of her account. It was still cold outside when she got there. She tied her flannel shirt tighter around her and headed to her pickup truck. The glow from her universe still stretched far over the desert despite the light pastel sky. Just like watching birds. So natural. So consoling.

The car key made the truck’s lights flash as she opened the doors. The universe was composed of signals, waves. Humans invented their own to cooperate with each other, arriving at minute things like the sound of unlocking car doors and reverse noise, adding cacophony to the world. But there had to be signals—visual and sound—for life to work. Without them, there wasn’t migration, hunting, or copulating. Without them, there wouldn’t be bats or humans. And with them, other forms of life existed, too. She only had to figure out what their signals were like.

She got into her car and left the observatory behind. At home, the car stopping and the opening of the door were enough to signal to Cosmo and Laika that it was their turn to be the sole focus of her existence. Both waited for her at the door. She lowered to pick Cosmo up, who butted his head against her. She kicked her shoes off. Laika followed behind them to the backyard patio. She let Cosmo down and sat on the patio, letting Laika push against her, and in waves she patted the dog to let it know all was well and that soon she would get their food, but just for now she needed to feel like part of the pack.

—

When I set out to write this one, I was thinking of writing about finding an alien signal, but the story turned out to be about something else. Cosmo and Laika snuck in and had their say about the story. Maybe I was influenced by my cat, who kept a close eye on the whole process. Who knows? Either way, the story came as it is. It was supposed to be a lyrical science-fiction voyage-and-return story, written in the third person. It is halfway there, but not quite.

Thank you for reading! Have a wonderful day with your pack ❤