Touched by an Alien

inside them, they were pretty darned nice.
    My parents were near the end of the hall, much farther away from me than Martini. I wondered if he’d had anything to do with the room placement. As we neared the door, I could hear the sounds of four dogs barking. Ah, all was normal—as long as they could bark, our dogs were happy.
    Martini knocked on the door, and the barking got much closer. “Hush!” Dad shouted as he opened the door. The tide of canines crashed into us. This time I steadied Martini as Dudley leaped up and put his paws on Martini’s shoulders.
    “Argh!” Dudley shared he really liked Martini by licking his face.
    “Dad, any chance of calling off the hounds?” I grabbed Dotty and Duchess and wrestled them back into the room. Duke, however, followed Dudley’s lead and jumped on Martini. I didn’t think he was going to remain on his feet much longer.
    “Down boys, down. Come on now, be good dogs, get down.” Dad was not having the slightest effect.
    “Dogs, SIT!” Mom called. Both male dogs’ butts hit the floor.
    “Thank you,” Martini said weakly, as he wiped the slobber off. “Can I use your bathroom?”
    “Sure, sure,” Dad said, ushering us in while the dogs trotted over to Mom and pretended they were well-behaved. “You know where it is, Jeff?”
    “Guh,” Martini said, and walked through their living room. He closed the bathroom door, and I heard it lock.
    “Nice digs. Your place is like triple the size of mine.”
    “Christopher took care of us,” Mom said.
    There was something about her voice that made me look around. “What are you doing here?”
    Christopher was leaning against the far wall, standing behind a sofa, petting two of our cats. “I came by to visit your parents.” He said it as if it were a totally normal thing. “Why is Jeff here?” he asked snidely. Ah, the Christopher I was used to was back.
    “Because I can’t find anything without an escort. Now, hope you enjoyed, sorry to see you go, catch you at the launch site.” If Mister Pissy was here, I didn’t want him around. I’d kind of liked him for a moment or two when he was being nice, but now I wondered if I should have instead taken the opportunity to throw up on him.
    “Kitty, stop being rude.” Mom gave Christopher a sympathetic look. “She gets cranky when she’s tired.”
    “She’s tired a lot,” he replied with a grin. They shared their chuckle. I tried to remind myself that I could just use this whole situation later to get my rage going.
    “Did you take care of Claudia and Lorraine?”
    “My father had already thought of it. They’re both good.”
    “Then, again, nice to see you, clear out. I’d like some time alone with my parents.”
    “Alone with them, you, and Jeff?” Glare #1 was in full force.
    Before I could answer this, Martini came out of the bathroom. He spotted Christopher, and his eyes narrowed. “Nice to see you. Why are you here?”
    “I invited him,” Mom said icily. “Unlike you, he wasn’t suggesting using my child as bait for an alien monster.”
    Martini winced. “Look—”
    “No, I think Angela’s right to be upset,” Dad interjected. “You were intimate with our daughter, and then the next morning you suggest she be tossed into the jaws of death.”
    Martini winced again, and Christopher was running through his full assortment of glares.
    “Frankly,” Mom said, “I really think we should ask you to leave, Jeff, not Christopher.”
    Martini had his eyes closed, and his expression headed from painful headache to total migraine. He looked awful and then started to look worse.
    “Mom, Dad, shut up.” I ran and got to Martini as he started to collapse. “I mean, it! All of you shut up and stop hating on him right now!”
    I flung his arm around my shoulders and led him into their bedroom. I managed to get him onto the bed. His face was pale, and his skin felt clammy. I stroked his head, and he groaned. “Hang on, Jeff,” I whispered as I kissed his forehead. It seemed to help him a little bit.
    I went back out to the living room and spoke to my parents. “I need Jeff, and I need him functioning. He’s an empath, and all his blocks are shot. This is grueling for him—he can’t block out anything right now—and you hating him is making him sick. For all I know, it could kill him. He needs rest, and we don’t have the time. And instead of helping me, you’re sitting around with Mr. Wonderful here plotting against me and ripping