“Hey, Ira!” my sister shouted, “Somebody outside wants to see you!”
“Tell whoever it is to come inside!” I shouted back.
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea…” my sister insisted. “You better come and take a look for yourself!”
I trudged up the stairs from my bedroom. Through the window of the living room, I could see that it was bright as day outside, despite the fact that the sun had set an hour earlier. Curious, I rushed to the front door.
Outside, this big rock hovered, trailing a bright gaseous substance. “You Ira Nayman?” the thing asked.
“Yes,” I replied. “Do I know you? I mean, you seem familiar…maybe a member of Parliament – do I know you?”
“Were you around 76 years ago?”
“No.”
“I’m Halley’s Comet,” the rock introduced itself. “I haven’t been around in over 75 years, but, I found myself in the neghbourhood, so I thought I’d drop by. Are you free to talk?”
“Sure,” I said, enthusiastically. “I’ve always got time for internationally famous celestial bodies. Just give me a second.” I went to the antenna on the side of the house and climbed to the roof. “We’ll be able to talk more easily this way. So, how are you?”
“Great,” the Comet told me. “Just great. I love traveling through this part of the galaxy – they love me here!”
“You sure are hot,” I agreed.
“Are you kidding? More people have seen me than LiveAid!” The Comet’s tail increased in length and brightened considerably.
“Hey…hey!” I shouted. “Be careful!”
“Sorry,” the Comet said, “it’s just that it’s such a thrill to be back after so long. It’s like visiting a whole new solar system, things change so quickly…”
“Oh?” I asked. “In what way?”
“Well, the world is just crawling with people,” the Comet answered. “I was talking to Mars on the way in, you know. Time was when the big red guy was jealous of the way your planet had life all over it. Now, though, he isn’t so sure.”
“What’s wrong with people?” I asked, a bit defensive.
“Hey,” the Comet responded, “personally, I think they’re great. But, the red planet does have a point. I mean, I wouldn’t want people strip-mining the guts out of me.”
“Oh,” I sniffed. “Did you notice anything else?”
“Well, I was wondering…”
“Yes?”
“Who littered on the moon?”
I explained the moon landings to the Comet. “Boy,” it said when I had finished, “you leave a place for 75 years and everything changes. Isn’t technology something?”
“You seem to have a lot of faith in human ingenuity,” I observed. “A lot of folks here have serious doubts about where all this technological progress is going to take us…”
“Well,” the Comet told me, “I guess I can afford to take a longer view. From my perspective, you’ve really come a long way. When I first spotted humanity, people wore togas and thought sitting around eating grapes was a great time. I said to myself then that this area would bear watching, and, sure enough, here you are, wearing three piece suits and eating artificial sweeteners.
“Human ingenuity is a constant source of amazement to me.”
“Is there anything you aren’t cheerful about?”
The Comet darkened. “Actually,” it admitted, “I’m not crazy about all the merchandising that has surrounded my visit. I noticed it the last time I was here, but that was nothing like this. Halley’s Comet paper clips, Halley’s Comet fountain pens, Halley’s Comet sun visors, Halley’s Comet stationery, Halley’s Comet cough drops, Halley’s Comet ashtrays, Halley’s Comet designer jeans, Halley’s Comet playing cards, Halley’s Comet eight and a half inch copper tubing, Halley’s Comet -“
I cleared my throat, hoping to stem the tide of Halley’s Comet merchandise, but I was unsuccessful.
“…trading cards with bubble gum,” the Comet continued, “Halley’s Comet life insurance, Halley’s Comet television special featuring George Burns and Morgan Fairchild, Halley’s Comet telephones, Halley’s Comet air freshener, Halley’s Comet mobiles for children’s cribs, Halley’s Comet shoelaces – and, do you think I see a dime of that money?”
“Umm…no.”
“Oh, I’m not concerned about the money, you know,” the Comet stated. “What use do I have for it?”
“Why does the merchandising bother you, then?”
“Because,” the Comet answered, “my coming used to mean something. People used to be able to look up into the night sky, see me pass and feel a part of the greater universe. I’m not boasting when I say that there was even a period when I was worshipped. Me! Can you believe it? Now, when people see me, they wonder how much memorabilia they can afford to buy.”
“That does seem a shame,” I agreed.
The Comet brightened. “Never mind that,” it told me. “What time is it?”
“It’s April -” I started.
“Oh, dear,” the Comet interrupted, worried. “I promised the sun I would visit her in late March. I’ve got to fly.”
“I understand, I said. As the Comet started rising into the night sky, I shouted: “Will I ever see you again?”
“Of course,” the Comet replied.
“When?”
I thought I heard a little chuckle. “You know.”