The sun was low and the light was flat. It came in through the blinds and made stripes on the floor. The boy sat in the chair and stared at the screen. The screen was black now. It had been full of color and noise and jokes. Now it was black. The boy didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He had watched the final episode of ALF.
Download the Chief Sports App for iPhone and iPad
ALF was a creature. He was not a man and not a dog. He was something else. He came from another place, a planet called Melmac. It had blown up. He had landed in a garage in California. That was the beginning. It was funny then. The creature ate cats and drank beer and made trouble. The family took him in. They were good people. They were not strong but they were kind. The father wore sweaters and the mother had a voice like a bell. The children were quiet and did not ask for much.
The creature stayed with them. He made jokes. He made messes. He made the father angry. But he stayed. That was the thing. He stayed. He was not supposed to be there but he stayed. That was the story.
The boy had watched it all. He had watched the creature learn about Earth. He had watched him fall in love with a blind girl. He had watched him try to fix things and break them worse. He had laughed. He had felt something like joy. It was not a big joy. It was a small joy. But it was real.
Then the final episode came.
The creature was going to leave. He had found others like him. Survivors. They were coming to get him. He was going to go home. The boy felt something in his chest. It was not pain but it was close. He watched the creature say goodbye. He watched him walk into the night. He watched the lights come down from the sky.
Then the men came.
They were not good men. They were men with guns and suits. They took the creature. They took him away. The lights went out. The screen went black.
That was the end.
The boy sat in the chair. He did not understand. He waited for something else. He waited for the creature to escape. He waited for the family to fight back. He waited for a joke. There was no joke. There was no escape. There was no fight.
There was only the black screen.
The boy felt the small joy leave him. It went out like a match in the wind. He did not cry. He did not speak. He only sat.
The creature had been funny. He had been rude. He had been loud. But he had been there. He had been a friend. And now he was gone. Taken. Not saved. Not redeemed. Just gone.
The boy thought about endings. He thought about the way things stop. A fish on the line. A bottle gone dry. A woman who does not come back. He thought about the creature in a cage. He thought about the family watching the sky and seeing nothing.
It was not a good ending.
It was not an ending at all.
It was a silence.
The boy stood up. He walked to the window. The sun was gone now. The light was gray and soft. He looked out at the street. It was empty. He thought about Melmac. He thought about cats. He thought about the creature’s voice, rough and warm.
He missed it.
He missed the way the creature had made the world strange. He missed the way he had made the family better. He missed the way he had made the boy laugh.
The boy did not laugh now.
He turned off the television. He walked to the kitchen. He poured a glass of water. He drank it. It was cold and clean. It did not taste like anything.
He went back to the chair.
He sat.
He waited.
There was no more ALF.
There was only the memory.
And the black screen.
