Alien Sock Robbers
I have spent time knitting my own socks this summer. I bought some expensive skeins of yarn, which brand is named after an expensive gem stone. I found myself the right size of DPN’s (that is Double Pointed Needles) and started to knit. Two evenings later I had a sizzling pair of socks, in a wonderful variegated colour combination.
I did not dare to wear them, being proud of my achievement. Still, on a rainy August day – you’d better say that the gates of heaven were opened and floods of cold water were dropped over me. Within two minutes I soaked in my shoes, and my new socks took in all the water that wool could take up. In Dutch we would say we were swimming in our shoes…literally.
I came home after a day of hard work, totally cold and stiff. My poor socks disappeared in the laundry machine, with the rest of the wet stuff, and I went up to get a shower, as my daughter put the machine on. I was tired and did not even care for a minute what she did… but was thankful that she helped me.
Two days later I checked on my socks. I had been looking into the clean pile of laundry and just found one sock. The second one was gone. I searched everywhere without a positive result. I could not walk on one sock. But I sure was curious at what had happened to the first one. So I went to Rotterdam and bought myself a small waterproof camera that I hid between laundries that needed to be washed. And as the cost of energy is lower when the machine is used in the evening and night hours, I put the machine on, just before I went to bed.
I also installed an extra camera in the kitchen, just to in case.
Sound asleep I did not notice what happened around two, but the cameras registered everything. A light, as bright as the sun lightened up the kitchen. All of a sudden, an entity came through the wall. Its eyes were hollow and the pale skin reminded me of the Asgard people that I had seen in the Stargate series. It opened the washing machine, which was ready and it took out my single knitted sock. A small smile appeared when he put it on his foot… as his second foot already wore my first sock. A message was left behind on top of my washing machine. Then he left, and the light disappeared.
Early in the morning I had to wake up as my husband had to go to work. He opened the washing machine and took out the camera. The information of the second camera was downloaded in the computer and he added the images of the first camera to the computer as well. We sat down and watched the Alien Sock Robber do his work. We also saw him write the note and in our own language we heard him say: “Thank you for making these wonderful foot warmers. On our planet, way past Pluto and Cheiron, which you only can see when you watch the stars, we need them badly as they keep our feet warm. Especially as your street is named after Venus, we thought you could spare a pair for us. You are lucky with that thin thread and these long sticks that you use to create these foot warmers with. You can make new ones again. Thank you so much!”
I sighed. My husband did the same. “No one will believe us”, he said. “So we’ll keep this to ourselves.”
I agreed with him. In the time he checked his email, I knitted the first row of a new sock pair.
“Come and get it, when ready huh!” I said. And then I saw a flash disappear in the sky, knowing they would be back to get the socks when they needed new ones.
©Bianca Boonstra 2006
Something must have happened. It has been quiet for a while, as noted in the fact that the socks remained in pairs for a while. It all changed when I found a note on my laundry machine in December. Beside the note there was a picture of our alien friend, with, so it seems his family.
I know we have been here before. You created those lovely foot warmers that we took with us to our planet. But we need help now. It is so cold where we live that we need warm items. Especially for our little one... He is born yesterday and the first one that has been born on our planet in more than 200 years. We need to keep him warm!"
Sad. The socks were too big to hide this little fellow in. I started to think, grabbed yarn and needles and started to knit. Within a few hours I had a little hat ready. All of a sudden I knew I had more hats. They were stashed in a cupboard as our little one grew out of them. I had to have at least five of them. And of course... baby socks! Ten, maybe twelve pairs I found.
I placed it all on the table. Knitted small sweaters, socks, hats...all knitted items I could find that our son did not wear anymore. I also found a few fleece blankets. I folded them neatly and placed all the items in a basket. If this would not help...
For me it was fun, as cleaning up means more space... but the older kids wondered what I was doing.
I almost would have shown them the note, but did not. Instead I told them that I knew that a little baby could use them. It seemed to be enough information for them, and they went to their rooms to do their homework.
They must have been hiding somewhere during the day. Somewhere in the fog, as it was grey and damp. But I knew they were watching me. I could feel it.
We all went to bed early that night, leaving the basket filled with knitwear on the table. The alarm system camera's registered their presence, as they silently did their work.
Two aliens came down in one beam of light. They looked at the basket and a pale smile appeared on their faces when they saw the tiny little things on top of the folded blankets. They both picked one side of the basket up and left in the same way they came, leaving a note behind...
I found the note when I woke up. Words, written in my own language saying:
"Thank you so much! We knew we could count on you!"
I answered: "My pleasure! Let me know when you need more... "
A flash of light was seen, and they disappeared. But for how long?
© Bianca Boonstra 2007