A Choice

It was raining the day the spaceship landed.
A steady drizzle had been falling all morning and the city streets were awash. The cardboard box Ramiro sheltered in was already starting to sag. Prompted by another splash of cold on the back of his neck, he glanced irritably up at his soggy ceiling. It was beginning to bulge inward, large beads of moisture slowly seeping through. His newspaper mattress didn’t exactly provide much insulation either, it was nearly soaked, barely diverting the little stream that originated somewhere behind him and flowed out steadily beneath his feet. Ramiro didn’t know how old he was, though he guessed that he couldn’t be much older than ten or eleven. His mother had died from a heroin overdose and his father could have been any one of her former clients or possibly one of the pimps over on the south side. He had been living rough for years now.
Positioned at the mouth of a smelly little alleyway, looking out onto he main street, he was in a prime position to see, and be seen, by all those passing by on their way to and from the bank.
“Spare a few coins, Miss?” he called out to a middle aged woman busily strutting by. Her umbrella held low, she didn’t even glance at him. “Bitch!” he called after her.
It was like that most of the time. People just pretended they couldn’t see or hear him.The old winos usually got a few curses thrown at them or maybe a self righteous, ”Get a job!” but a cold, wet, hungry child is harder to openly disapprove of, so they generally just ignored him.
A large yellow bus pulled up at the end of the block and few of the commuters stepped off, hurriedly donning rain jackets and opening umbrellas. One in particular caught his eye. A pretty, dark haired little girl of about eight or nine years old, was trying to put on a raincoat whilst holding a large pink umbrella over her head. She was struggling to get her arm into one of the sleeves, laughing and spinning in drunken circles in her efforts to catch it. Each time, as she almost had it, the umbrella would tilt, sending a stream of water down the back of her hood and thus eliciting fresh shrieks and giggles. The girl’s parents seemed engrossed in a rather animated discussion of their own and were of little assistance.
“Let me help.” Ramiro offered, quickly crossing the distance, taking the umbrella and holding it firmly above the little girl. The rain was now falling directly on him, unimpeded even by soggy cardboard, but Ramiro doubted if he couldn’t get any wetter that he already was.
“Why thank you, kind Sir.” she said, smiling at him and shaking the water out of her hood. Ramiro grinned. No one had ever called him a Sir before. He stood tongue tied for a few moments. Up close the girl was even prettier. She had a heart shaped face and a tiny rosebud mouth. Her hair was arranged in pigtails, tied with pink ribbons.
“Chance!” a shrill voice shouted, “What are you doing? Get away from that dirty street boy!” Ramiro turned. The girls parents had broken off their argument and were now both glaring at him. They were obviously well off and both wore business suits.
“I-I was just trying to help.” Ramiro stuttered.
“We don’t need your help!” the big man roared. Stomping forward, he put his hand on the boys chest and shoved him, hard. Ramiro’s small frame offered little resistance as he was flung backwards and onto his improvised shelter, crushing in completely. “And stay away from my daughter!” the big brute called over his shoulder, dragging the struggling girl by the arm, the umbrella lying forgotten in the rain.
Ramiro lay, slightly dazed, in the soggy ruins and watched the little group departing, the girl’s mother berating her all the way. Chance, he thought, what an unusual name. For a while he wondered what it would have been like to get to know that little girl. She didn’t seem to have the same prejudices as her parents and she seemed to so full of life. Imagine being able to laugh at the rain! Ramiro certainly wasn’t laughing, he was soaked through and the rapidly disintegrating box he was lying on wasn’t going to offer any further protection. Wearily the rose to his feet. Coughing weakly and wiping the now familiar trickle of blood on his sleeve, he retrieved the umbrella and gently folded it up. Carefully, because he had been prone to dizzy spells of late, he made his way deeper into the alley towards the old shipping crate he usually slept in. There were mouldy old blankets in one corner, a few well leaved porno magazines and a candle. Hands trembling, he lit the candle and pulled the door shut. There were a few rusty gaps so he could still see and hear anyone who entered the alleyway. Stripping off his wet clothes he pulled on an old tracksuit and, huddling in his blankets, he crouched over the candle, the only source of heat available. Bit by bit, he began to thaw out enough to relax and leaned back against the wall. Reaching behind him into a concealed gap he pulled out his glue bottle and, slowly at first, then with increasing enthusiasm, he huffed in and out. The nightmarish world around him began too soften and blur. A warm feeling starting in his chest crept slowly into his arms and legs. With a sharp whirring in his head he began to see spots and flashes of colour. For a moment there was darkness, then he was running through a green sunlit field. There where brightly coloured flowers everywhere and birds and insects flew dizzily around him. Laughing he ran an ran. Chance was there too wearing a white dress and running barefoot.
“Catch me if you can!” she laughed, playfully tagging him on the cheek before racing off giggling.
Suddenly the world lurched and spun. Gasping he sat up, once again he was in back in the little shack, the taste of vomit in his mouth, an overwhelming feeling of loss and regret filling him. Angrily he hurled the glue bottle across the room. What was he thinking? With parents like her’s, he didn’t stand a chance with a girl like Chance. He laughed humourlessly at his unintended pun. He didn’t really stand a chance with any girl. Gloomily he dwelt on all the chances he would never, could never, have. He remembered his mother, always sad, always looking lost. She was the only one who had ever loved him. He remembered being held and touched by her, he missed that most of all.

Gradually, Ramiro became aware of a deep humming sound. It started as a sensation in his stomach, a vibration that slowly build up from low down until his whole body seemed to be shaking. The shipping crate started to tremble and a blue light was shining through the cracks in the door. A fierce wind was blowing papers and other garbage around the alley. A cold drink can slammed into the door and the entire structure rang like a bell. Gently, almost gracefully the spaceship settled right outside his door. It was quite small, silver all over and had a smooth aerodynamic look about it. The hatch cracked open and a large, fluffy cloud of white smoke billowed out followed by the pilot of the craft. He looked a lot like a tall skinny Rastafarian, except that he had bright green skin and dark purple dreads. He had a big grin on his face and looked around in sort of happy, slightly dazed way. A flicker of irritation seemed to cross his face as he looked up at the sky and the rain.
“Farbit!” he exclaimed in a disgusted sort of way and leaned back into his spaceship pushing a few buttons. Instantly the rain and the wind stopped and the air in the alleyway was heated to that of a warm summer’s day. “Hello, you in the metal box. Don’t be frightened. I just stopped by for some lunch. Eating while I’m flying always gives me indigestion. Why don’t you join me?”
Ramiro was of course terribly frightened, but he was also a curious child and the mention of lunch had heightened this natural inclination. Cautiously the eased the door slightly open and stuck his head through. The alien looked at him, he looked at the alien. For a few moments neither said anything, then the alien suddenly stepped forward offering Ramiro his hand. “My name is Bobertulangurefuitusitus Zuus. Call me Bob”
“Ram-miro.” stuttered Ramiro carefully taking the green hand in front of him. The alien’s handshake was firm and friendly his skin felt warm, but very dry.
“I’m pleased to see you Ram Miro. Mind if I just call you Ram? Using more than one syllable is so formal.” Without waiting for an answer Bob turned back to his spaceship and began digging around under that hatch. He lifted out two folding chairs and set them up in front of his craft.
“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll only be a minute.” he assured him, going back to rummaging around in his vessel. “Ah, here we are, Algolian clam stew. I’ve been eating this stuff every day for the last week, and I’m still not sick of it! There you go, careful when you open it, it’s self-heating.” Ramiro gratefully accepted a foil covered container and eagerly peeled the flap off one end. Immediately the contents began to boil and steam, a deliciously rich smell wafting out.
“Enjoy!” Bob said handing him a plastic spoon. They sat together, eating in silence and drinking something hot and sweet from a odd looking Thermos.
When they had both finished, Bob the alien leaned back with a satisfied groan, belched once and took out a large packet of weed, a mauling pad and a box of rolling paper. “Bet you haven’t seen grass like this before!” Bob boasted removing a sizeable bud out and handing him the rest of the packet. Feeling like a connoisseur, Ramiro made a careful inspection. It was a pale green in colour and covered in hundreds of silvery-white hairs that sparkled as the light touched them.
“Top quality moonweed that. I got a little grow set up on the far side of your planet’s pretty satellite up there. I swing round once in a while to harvest some. Figured I’d stop by and see how you earth people are doing while I’m in the area. Was quite surprised you lot haven’t managed to blown yourselves up yet. Here!” While he was talking he had rolled two large joints and was offering Ramiro one.
“Thank you.” Ramiro responded as he reached eagerly for it. The joint was perfectly rolled in a cone shape with a neat gerric at the narrow end. Bob lit it for him with a strange little lighter that looked almost like a mini version of the light sabre in the Star Wars movies. Ramiro took a slow, deep drag, and almost immediately felt as if he was floating away on a cloud of pure bliss, all his troubles left far behind. The world around him seemed so much more beautiful, images somehow sharper, the light impossibly refracted into rainbows by every surface.
The alien also took a large pull from his joint, inhaling deeply. He seemed to have remarkable lung capacity and managed to blaze his way though about a third of the massive joint in just one breath. He held the smoke in for a few moments turning a somewhat deeper shade of green, before blowing several large, nebulous smoke rings that drifted lazily about the alleyway.
“Much better!” he remarked. “So, tell me a bit about yourself.”
Ramiro was feeling very relaxed by now and so he told the alien far more than he had ever told anyone else before. He described living on the south side when his mother had still been alive. He talked about the pimps, the whores and the gangs. He told him how he had felt the day he found her dead from an overdose. He had run off after that, and for a while things hadn’t been too bad. He had stolen food and whatever else he needed. Then he the coughing had started. He had become too sick to run around and was reduced to begging. Now all he really looked forward to was death.
When Ramiro had finished his story the alien sat quietly for a moment, an angry expression contorting his features. Then he looked up, directly into Ramiro’s eyes.
“There is a massive asteroid heading for this planet. It will strike the earth’s surface in just under six months. I very much doubt that you will live that long, listening to that cough of yours. Do you know anything about the dinosaurs?”
“Like in the movie Jurassic Park?” Ramiro asked.
“Yes, they lived millions of your years ago and an asteroid much like this one wiped them out, totally. If it weren’t for that asteroid though, none of you humans would exist today. That’s the problem you see. I could blast this asteroid out of existence, thereby saving all of you, but also simultaneously destroying any other wonderful creatures which might evolve as a result. I don’t want to make that choice so I’m going to ask you to. You have an insider’s perspective but no real stake in the outcome. So, go on, make a choice!”
“You want me to decide the fate of the whole human race!” Ramiro exclaimed. He was shocked, no one had ever asked his opinion about anything before. The most important decisions he ever made was which dumpster to sleep in or which corner to beg at. One needs to encounter a certain number of opportunities to form an effective decision making process. When the options are lousy and lousyer the path to follow is reasonably clear cut. “Shouldn’t you be asking a king or a president, someone important?”
“No!” Bob replied, “Someone like that would have too much to loose, you will judge humanity purely on merit.”
Ramiro was silent for a long time, thinking. Solemnly he made his choice. The alien thanked him, got into his spaceship and left, leaving behind a bag of moonweed, a few blankets and a large box of self-heating meals.

As Ramiro watched the ship float gracefully into the clouds he thought about the arrogant businessman he had met earlier that day.
“We don’t need your help!” the big man had roared, shoving him across the pavement.
Ramiro smiled. For the first time in his life he felt really good about himself, and the universe he lived in. He was no longer an insignificant speck blown about by the winds of fate, he had made a Choice!