Fiction Short Story

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Fiction Short Story

by Wayne Sheer

The Secret Life of Will Squires

Will Squires grew tired of writing realistic fiction. He wanted to try something different, something out of the ordinary something ... fantastic.

He thought it might be fun to write about an ordinary man being abducted by aliens, probed and examined, questioned and prodded, then returned to his normal existence with complete recall of the event. The story would focus on his attempt to live the life of a responsible family man haunted by a secret his family and friends would consider ludicrous.

"What are you working on now?" his wife asked.

"A story about a family man with a secret."

He watched her brow wrinkle and her lips tighten. He knew what that meant.

"It's fiction, dear. The main character isn't me."

"Uh-huh." Her Tuesday afternoon, "Know Thyself," group had told her that “our fantasies are as much about who we are as our jobs and the way we dress.” With that in mind, she watched her husband carefully and read his stories with a wary eye.

Will no longer created characters that cheated on their spouse or hated their lives. It wasn't worth the discussion afterwards. And he felt guilty writing a story and not sharing it with his wife. He and Bonnie had been together so long, not sharing his work would be almost as much an infidelity as sleeping with the next-door neighbor, who, he once admitted to Bonnie, he would love to sleep with.

"Go ahead," Bonnie said.

"She's half my age and not interested."

"I know." Bonnie smiled.

She was a good woman, Will thought, just a little insecure after his retirement from Zygot Industries after thirty years as Information Manager. She was worried he'd be bored at home. Her ‘Life After Retirement’ group warned her that corporate men on average develop heart conditions within five years of retirement. This was Will's third year since he severed relations with Zygot and Bonnie still watched him closely.

When he first retired, she made him go to the doctor every six months for a routine examination.

"I'm healthy, Bon. Even the cardiologist thinks so." Will kissed his wife. "You don't have to worry about me. I know exactly what I want to do with my retirement."

"What?"

"I want to write."

"Write what?"

"Stories, fiction."

"You mean a novel?"

"Maybe, but not necessarily. I just want to spend time with myself and write what I think about."

This frightened Bonnie, so she joined the 'Know Thyself - What-Do-We-Really-Mean-When-We-Say-What-We-Say' Tuesday afternoons. At first, she dragged Will to her groups. But he was miserable.

"If I wanted to spend time in meetings listening to people talk about what they think is important, I would have stayed on the job," he told her. "I want to write."

And it turned out he was pretty good at it. He even began publishing his stories in a number of small journals.

Bonnie learned to appreciate his passion and left him alone most of the day. Most evenings and weekends they spent together happily. It was a near ideal arrangement, until she joined the 'Know Thyself' group on Tuesdays and scrutinized his fiction for what it revealed about him.

So how was he going to write about his character's alien abduction without Bonnie worrying that he had finally lost his mind? Still, he wanted to try it.

He decided to create a character in a totally different line of work from his own. He made his character an English professor, teaching at a small college in Atlanta, Georgia. The story, as he wrote it, appeared to be a straightforward, realistic tale about the quiet academic life when suddenly in broad daylight while walking to work the character, Wayne Scheer, feels a slight tingling sensation and is instantly transposed from Atlanta to the planet Lemphadrineon in the Magon Lanix galaxy.

He wakes and finds he has been morphed into his original condition, except he is naked. In a room filled with mattresses and soft pillows, Wayne is encouraged to have sex with three of the most beautiful women he's ever imagined. And the women, as flexible as gymnasts and as desiring to please as a Geisha, engage in positions Wayne had only dreamt of.

After what seemed like days of continuous sex, but was probably only a few hours, he lay drained and spent, aching for rest.

"No more," he heard himself beg. "Please. No more."

With that, the women (suddenly) transformed into scientists with white coats, and looking like members of Clone-Aid, they began taking notes on yellow legal pads. They questioned Wayne about the complete gamut of his fantasy life from oral sex to baseball. Then they probed all of his orifices and attached an electromagnetic device to his seriously shriveled sex organ. Once they completed their examination and removed the magnetic device, they pecked him on the cheek and wished him luck back on earth.

Instantly, Wayne returned mid-step to Atlanta. Checking to make sure his clothes were in place, he continued his walk as if nothing had happened.

Will was writing the section of the story where Wayne debates whether or not to tell his wife of his alien infidelity when Bonnie entered the room.

"Hi, honey. You were so busy I tried not to disturb you, but dinner will be ready in about ten minutes."

"Oh, that's good. I'm starving."

"What have you been up to? You have the strangest smile on your face."

Without hesitation, Will printed out what he'd been working on. "Have a seat. I'd like to get your reaction."

He watched her read and was relieved when she laughed out loud.

"What part did you laugh at?"

"At Wayne's sexual fantasies."

"I thought you'd like that."

When she finished reading, she asked, "How are you going to end this one?"

"I haven't the slightest idea."

"I suggest you make the wife more sympathetic at the end. She's a real idiot at the beginning, you know? What with all her groups and fears about her husband."

"Just comic relief.”

"Uh-huh." Will watched as she wrinkled her brow and tightened her lips. "Do you want me to quit my groups?" she asked.

"Maybe just the Tuesday afternoon one."

© Copyright 2003 Wayne Scheer

About the Author:

After teaching college writing and literature for twenty-five years, Wayne Scheer recently retired to follow his own advice, and write. Some of his stories have appeared in Flashquake, E2K, StoryOne, Unlikely Stories and The Phone Book. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2002.Wayne lives in Atlanta with his wife. He can be contacted at wvscheer@aol.com.