The 100th birthday party of Marty Marcel was a small affair, but the friends who threw it made certain it was a festive one. There was a big birthday cake, of course, as well as colorful decorations and lively music. And Marty’s pals made sure he had plenty of his favorite drink, Kentucky Straight Bourbon.
Thirty minutes into the event, Marty and his eight buddies – led by Gray – had already polished off a fifth, thanks to a series of toasts.
“Here’s to your health, Marty!”
“Happy hundredth, and here’s to a hundred more!”
“To a great man and a true friend!”
Marty was still quite mobile and in decent health; he had been fortunate in that he never needed a wheelchair to get around. But the gears were surely starting to wear out, and he always had a cane with him – just in case.
“I don’t really need it, but it makes me look distinguished,” he’d say, “and I can fight off all girls who keep chasing me … especially Ethel.”
Earlier in the evening the staff at Pecos Retirement Village had held a celebration for him in the activity room, one that included the other residents. Most were quite fond of Marty and Ethel was his “date,” as she was most anytime there was a reason to get together. She was 92, and Marty joked that it was a “Late December/later December romance.”
However, that low-key shindig was over in less than an hour. By 8 p.m., Ethel had exited with a yawn and the facility was mostly quiet as the inhabitants retired to their apartments.
But at 10 p.m., Marty’s oldest friends scooped him up in a very special “party bus” and started the real bash.
“You really shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble, Gray,” he said. “I mean, I do appreciate it, but you didn’t have to come all this way. After all, it’s just another day.”
“It’s not just another day,” said the chief party planner, pouring two fingers of whiskey into Marty’s glass. “It’s your day. And 100 is a pretty big number. You look a little different than you did back when we met you, but otherwise you haven’t changed much.”
Marty smiled and took a sip.
“Lordy, that was so long ago. I was 21 and had missed out on the war, but still felt like I needed to do my part, so I joined up. I have to admit, I was awfully full of myself and thought I was king of the world when I put on that uniform … then I ran into you rascals and realized how small my world was.”
Gray opened another bottle of whiskey.
“We were glad you did … me, especially. I was in rough shape from the crash and none of us had any idea what to expect when you came along. We were afraid after you saw us, you’d start screaming. Or worse, shooting.”
Marty shook his head.
“I wouldn’t have done that. I couldn’t have done that. You were all funny looking to me with your big heads and little bodies, but I reckon I was funny looking to you, too. Maybe I should’ve been scared, but I wasn’t. Even when I was a little boy, I figured with all those stars up there, there had to be somebody else besides us.”
Gray – the leader of the group of extraterrestrials – downed another glass and quickly refilled it.
“If you hadn’t told everybody it was just the remains of a weather balloon, who knows what would’ve happened?” Gray said. “Being so close to the Roswell Army Air Field wasn’t exactly an ideal place for us to have an accident. But you helped us, gave us time to make repairs, and we’ll always be grateful. Which reminds me … you’re always welcome to go back with us. As you can see, we have plenty of room here on our craft. And once we get home, we can make your bones stronger and even add on a few more years if you like.”
Marty appreciated the gesture, but decided to pass. For better or worse, Earth was his home.
“Thanks, Gray, but I think I’ll stay put,” he said. “The International Balloon Fiesta is coming up soon in Albuquerque, and the village here is planning a bus trip there. I’ve already promised Ethel I’ll be her arm candy.
“Anyway, let’s have one more drink … and then you better beam me back down.”
