It was a gloomy, cold, windy day, much like today.  I emerged, clad as an alien, from between the two buildings that belonged to the Baptist Church next door to my granny’s house.  My 5^th grade imagination coupled with findings from an elderly woman’s closet probably didn’t provide the most believable attire, but the costume served its purpose in deceiving my unsuspecting siblings.

“My name is Zeus and I came from another planet.  If you don’t do as I say, I will take you back there with me.”  This is what I told my younger brother and sister in the best alien voice I could muster. They didn’t realize that earlier, I had disappeared into my granny’s bedroom, adorned myself in some of her clothes, wrapped my hair up in a turban using some material she had, and covered my face completely in white powder.  While I readied myself for the subterfuge, I prepared my story.  And don’t ask me why I picked the name Zeus, it had nothing to do with Greek mythology.

Before going outside, I clued Granny in on my plan and she giggled and said, “I don’t know Lisi-O (her pet name for me)”, you might scare them.  I’m sure the old green and white floor length curtains rustled as she kept a close eye on my movements, taking care that things didn’t go too far.

After I told them who as was, and my intentions to take them away with me as soon as my spaceship returned, they cowered on the ground, visibly shaken.  Their eyes were wide as saucers and they hovered together anxiously awaiting my next command.

It didn’t take very long for me to either feel sorry for them, or my grandmother to intervene.  In all honesty, I don’t remember which occurred first.  However, they had to be convinced of the truth to abate the tears.  I remember having to remove some of the garb or say or do something right away to make them recognize that it was only I, the meanie; the elder sister who made their lives miserable enough without adding such fear to it.

I mentioned that I was writing this to my sister and she reminded me that after I told them the truth we all went back outside and played “Zeus and her prisoners”.  I ordered them around and they willingly complied, anxious to continue the fun.

Looking back, I have no idea why they believed I was really an alien, or fell for the ruse, but when you are young, you are more gullible, you see things through the imaginative, all-believing, trusting eyes of a child.

I know this is an odd little story, but there is comfort in the memories.  I think of Granny, laughing and plotting and rescuing.  Then there is the quality time (well, most of it was quality) spent with her and my brother and sister.  We had many “Norman Rockwell” moments  🙂