FROM SPACE 1st Draft Update for 9/16/18: The A-Word is Something Else when you’re Breaking the Truth to a Being

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or read the latest words below this line:

“How do you know that..? How do you even know my mom HAS a storage shed?”
“I’m kind of a detective.  I do lots of research and I came across, I think it’s called a paper trail?” Sarah nodded and I went on. “Of unusual technology sightings and was able to find records of your mom renting one of the sheds that closed circuit TV video showed a bunch of personal Earth belongings and some stuff not of this Earth, too.”
“I don’t remember either of them ever mentioning a storage unit.”
“It’s how I found you.”
“What do you mean?” Sarah asked.
“I found an old diary in the shed with your name and address in it.”
“For this apartment? How?  I didn’t live here before they died.”
“I… don’t know,” I said, honestly pretty surprised.
“And wait–you said you found it INSIDE the storage unit?”
“Is that what you call it?  A unit?”
“Yes.  But don’t dodge the question, Wise.  Were you inside of my mom’s secret storage unit?”
“Um, yes, yes I was.”  Sarah seemed quietly angry all of the sudden.  I found myself worried that I had some how offended her sensibilities. This was confirmed by the next words she spoke:
“You violated her privacy and you broke the law.”
“Well, yes on two but no on one. I am not sure how you can violate the privacy of a dead person.”
“It’s about respecting their wishes after they died.”
“Do you really think you’d be better off not knowing you’re an alien–” I realized the moment I said ‘alien’ that it was mistake.  She clearly wasn’t ready to fully accept that part of herself. Her face looked like I’d just punched her in it.  She looked stunned.  Sick.  
“Sorry, but that’s the word.  You’re from space.  Not from Earth.”
She nodded silently, clearly still shaken.
I had the urge to give her a hug, but I didn’t know where that urge was really coming from.  An honest interest in making her feel better or… or something else.  I wasn’t used to feeling like giving anyone a hug, but then, I wasn’t used to changing people’s lives simply by talking to them.  Well, that’s not true.  I was once told that doing that “was my jam.”
“Look, I have a few days until I have to leave.  I can help you if you have no one else.”
“Who else would I have?” she said, her voice trembling slightly.
“I… I don’t know. You’re sure you don’t have any aunts or uncles?  Maybe a friend of your parents who may have also been an al–a friend of your parents… from space?”
She sighed and shook her head.  “Maybe. It’s been several years.  I know they had friends but I was a kid.  I thought their friends were nerds.  I thought THEY were nerds.”
“Let’s see what we can find in that shed–er–unit together.  I don’t want to violate your mom’s privacy.  I just want to help you.”
“Now?”
“Well, right now, you had better call what ever restaurant you ordered delivery from and complain because it hasn’t gotten here yet.  Also, the storage facility is closed this time of night.  What are you doing tomorrow?”
“Work. Well, I can call out.”
“OK, when you wake up call me.”  I handed her my card.  She looked at it and then at me.  “Did you have that up your sleeve? It looked like you pulled it from nowhere.”
I smiled.  The former is more accurate.”