By Andy Leheny
(This is a revision of a short, short story first published two decades ago.)
The bartender turned up the thermostat.
“Forget that it’s winter,” said Carl, a regular at the tavern. “It’s still unusually cold for Florida.”
Russo, the stocky bartender, nodded in agreement and slid another celery stalk-adorned Bloody Mary to Carl. He raised the glass and took a drink. Finding the cocktail acceptably smooth but respectively potent, he returned his gaze to the bar’s one aged television. On it was another vampire film, in which Carl anticipated within moments the hero’s hands to frantically grasp at curtains and pull them to the floor. The sunlight would stream in and Dracula’s screams would be cut short as he withered into dust.
Must be about 11 p.m. thought Carl. The movie is nearly over.
“Horror movies are alright,” said a silver-haired guy four stools down from Carl. “But personally I prefer science fiction films.”
To Carl his fellow patron appeared about 55, but a good 55.
“Any particular kind of science fiction do you prefer?”, asked Carl.
Silver-haired smiled.
“Anything with aliens in it is fine with me”, he answered.
Carl and his new acquaintance decided to discuss their horror and science fiction film preferences over several rounds of drinks.
“You know, I’m a bit of an amateur writer,” said silver-haired. “I have an idea for a science fiction film.”
“Imagine there really are aliens among us,” he continued . “But they have no respect for humans. They see us as insignificant and enjoy playing with our lives.
“They play with our lives as some children will torture ants with a magnifying glass.”
“So how would these aliens play with our lives?”, Carl asked.
Carl’s new acquaintance paused.
“You know the saying ‘why do bad things happen to good people’?” said silver-haired. “Of course, pure chance may be seen as good luck or bad luck.
“But what if aliens took some action which started a war, or triggered some perceived natural disaster that caused the loss of human life,” he continued. “But for no other reason than to see how this species called human would react.
“These aliens would see humans as so insignificant that what we would perceive as torture they would view as laughable,” said silver-haired. “They would put the inhabitants of earth through pain and anguish just for fun.”
Carl looked and saw it was now just past midnight.
“Sounds like an interesting plot, said Carl. “Time for another round?”
“No, sorry,” silver-haired answered and got up from his bar stool.
As he rose, Carl noticed the bartender tear a page from the bar’s daily calendar, situated on the wall beneath the television. It was now January 28.
My God, Carl thought, it seems like it was just yesterday it was Christmas. And now it was almost the end of January of 1986.
As Carl heard the door of the tavern open, he noticed on the television a remote from Cape Kennedy was being broadcast.
The Challenger was ready for its launch later this day. It stood, the steam from shuttle and rocket mixing, like the warm breath of the astronauts inside, with unusually cold night air.
The first teacher in space, thought Carl, and then heard the voice of silver-haired as he exited the bar.
“Goodbye,” said the stranger. ” I really must go now.
“Today will be a busy day for me.”
The Focus 