Friend of Tragon by sirisha sunkara

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FRIEND OF TRAGON I work at the Esso Car Sales and Service Station in Kingstown. We are the local R.A.A. reps, and one of the more unusual calls occurred on the Saturday afternoon of the footie Grand Final. I was just closing up, looking forward to catching the start of the game between Kingstown and Mingi, when Guy Millard pulled up in his ute and asked me to fill her up. We exchanged a few words about our chances in the final, and just as Guy was handing me fifty dollars, he added. "Oh by the way, I almost forgot, I nearly knocked over this short skinny bloke about sixty kilometres back along the track. He was a bit confused and reckoned he’d rolled his wagon, I said I'd ask the R.A.A. bloke to come out and fix him up." "Thanks a lot. By the time I get back from the call. I’II be lucky to catch even the final term. Was he an R.A.A. member?" "I didn't ask. Anyway, it was just near the Coomeroo exit. You'll have no trouble spotting him. He has bright green skin and he's wearing a metallic looking suit." "Wouldn't be a local then," I commented. "Shouldn't think so. See you in the clubrooms after the game." "Yeah, sure." I locked up and hopped in the pick-up, and twenty minutes later I caught up with the short skinny bloke. He was about five foot two, and his tight fitting shiny pants reached only half way down his legs. He had no shoes on, and I noticed he only had three toes on each foot, and suckers on the undersides. His head was unusually large, completely bald, with these big protruding eyes. As Guy mentioned, his skin, rather scaly, was bright green, and slightly translucent. "G’day," I said. "In a spot of trouble I hear." Yes thank you. I overturned the module a short way up that dirt road. I’m afraid it's damaged." -Bit of a toff, I thought, but good manners. You wouldn't have picked from his voice whether he was a bloke or a sheila, and he spoke in a monotone. "Hop in and we'll go and sort her out," I said. Once we were both in the cab, curiosity got the better of me. "You're not a local are you? I reckon I would know if I'd seen you around town." "Good Heavens no. I'm from the planet Tragon, six hundred and eighty light years away. I'm on a mission of goodwill, bringing greetings from our people to intelligent life forms throughout the Universe."

"Struth, you've come a long way. Well you've come at the right time. The footie final's on today. I hope you're not a Coomeroo barracker. My name's Greg by the way." "My name is Lugon." We shook hands across the cab, and I noticed a funny buzzing noise while our hands were in contact. We soon found the vehicle, a bit like a dune buggy, with enormous wheels and a closed in cab. "Weird vehicle you've got there. One of those custom made four wheel drive jobs? How did you roll her?" "After I made my landing, I set off in the terrain module to look for intelligent life forms to convey our greetings and goodwill. I found this road and followed it. Just here I saw a large life form bounding across the road. Of course I swerved to avoid hitting it, and the module overturned." “That would have been a roo. You should have bull bars like the pick up. Then there’s no need to swerve. It’s much safer. You could have been badly hurt.” "But it appeared to be intelligent life, and our code strictly forbids us to harm intelligent life." "A roo? No way. Your average roo is as thick as two planks." "But its demeanour indicated that it was a thinking, feeling creature." "Don't make me laugh. One less roo won't make any difference. There are too bloody many of them anyway, but a custom made four wheel drive like yours is a one off. But look here mate, we can't stand here jawing all day. Let's get her hitched up to the truck. Are you R.A.A. by the way?" "R.A.A., what is that?" "Struth, you must have come a long way. Well if you're not R.A.A., you'll have to pay the full towing charges. You ought to take out travel insurance." "I'm sorry Greg, but I have none of your local currency." Posh manners aside, you had to admire the bloke's honesty. Well, I thought. I'd come out all this way, and I couldn't very well leave a traveller in distress. And if he’d just arrived after travelling four eighty light years on a Saturday arvo, he couldn't really be blamed for not having any local money. Once back at the service station, I decided I'd better set him straight. "Listen mate, it's my afternoon off. I want to get to the footie. How much of a hurry are you in?" "Well, quite a bit actually. They're waiting for me at the orbiter. However, if it does take a while. it will at least give me time to bring greetings to intelligent life forms. Are there many in this town?" “Struth yes. Just drop into the pub tonight and see for yourself. Tell you what I'll do. I don't work Sundays either, but since you're in a hurry, I’II square it with the boss so I get a day off in the week in lieu. Drop in tomorrow afternoon and I’II have her ready for you. Now what I'd do if I was a foreigner in town like you, I'd go to the police station and tell them I was in a fix, no local currency etcetera. They'll probably give you a chit so you can stay in the hotel overnight, and maybe a few bucks for a counter tea. The cop shop is just down the road there, see, the place after the big tree, that's it."

We parted company and I dismissed him from my mind. As far as I was concerned. I wouldn't see him again until he picked up his dune buggy Sunday afternoon. And I wouldn't be too sorry to see the back of him either. First there was the footie that I'd missed because of him. And then, I didn't think I'd got much in common with him, what with his posh manners and greenie attitude. As it was, by the time I got to the footie, the game was all but ours. With only a quarter to play, we were nearly fifty points up. To cut a long story short, we extended our lead in the final term and took the flag. At least I was there for the finish. I had a few drinks and tea at the footie clubrooms, and later went up to the Railway Hotel with a few of the other blokes. I was in the middle of my second schooner when blow me down, Lugon strolled up, bold as brass. "I thank you Greg, it was as you said. I am to stay here tonight." "Who's your poofter mate. Greg?" This came from Robbo, a shearer and first ruck. "Listen Robbo, I collected him from the Coomeroo turn off and towed his four wheel drive in," I remarked a little sharply. â&#x20AC;&#x153;Funny, I wouldn't have taken him for an off road enthusiast. Where d'you come from mate?" Robbo asked. "The Planet Tragon in the constellation of Or." "So you came here to muscle in on our sheilas did you?" I laughed with the others. Robbo's a real joker, and the idea of this skinny little runt muscling in on anything was a real lark. "Have a drink mate." I have to hand it to Robbo, he's a real stirrer, but he's generous to a fault. "I am here," Lugon said, "to bring greetings from our planet to intelligent life forms throughout the universe, to foster harmony and goodwill. "Big words mate. Drink up." A couple of the other blokes had joined us now, expecting a few laughs as Robbo stirred up the out of towner. I happened to notice Alby Cunningham pointing his girlfriend Debbie over in the direction of Lugon. -Yeah. I thought, he's getting Deb to con onto Lugon for a stir. Deb's a real live wire, and she'd be in anything if it meant a few laughs. Sure enough. a few moments later she was all over him. Her hand was on his knee and she was complimenting him on his snazzy suit, The guys could hardly contain themselves. Me, I wasn't that impressed - I felt kind of sorry for the little guy. I'd spent some time up in Coomeroo, and knew what it feels like to be a stranger in town. So I went off to play some eight ball with Biter Thomson. I returned half an hour later to find major trouble brewing. Apparently, Lugon had been quietly drinking his beer answering her questions about Tragon in his restrained monotone, and sheâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d ended up taking a genuine shine to him. She was resting her head in his shoulder, saying some bull about how the local blokes are coarse and insensitive. Meanwhile. Alby was ropeable. Robbo was doing his best to pacify him, and Alby was saying some very ungentlemanly things about Debbie. Standing at the bar waiting to be served, I caught a bit more of Deb's conversation. It was one way really. Lugon was looking a bit worse for wear. I couldn't believe the way Debbie was running down Kingstown. She'd always seemed to have fitted in so well.

"I've lived here all my life. It's such a hole. But you're different from these yobs, you're sensitive, you listen to what I'm saying. You're interested in my feelings, and you've seen so much of the world." Poor old Lugon was reeling. His eyes were glazed. I don't think what she was saying was registering at all. And she went on, "You're staying here tonight aren't you? Why don't we go to your room where it's more comfortable to talk." That was all I caught, but I got the picture. I had to help Robbo get Alby out of the Hotel, He was drunk and staggering, and was out to make trouble. As we got him to Robbo's car, Alby was raving. "Thinks she's too good for me, I’II kill her, the two timing bitch." He was still raving as Robbo drove off to take him home. When I got back to the bar. Deb was still jawing at him, but Lugon was staring and reeling. There were bright orange splotches on his green skin. "How much has he drunk?" I asked Guy. “Only three schooners. I thought he was a bit of a Sheila from the start.” I prised Lugon away from Debbie and helped him outside. Debbie was starting to bawl. Once outside, Lugon spewed his guts out on the footpath. ''Geez mate," I said, "maybe you should have been drinking lights." His chunder was bright purple and glowed in the dark. The orange splotches on his skin seemed to have faded. I patted him on the back. "Cheer up mate. Aussie beer's pretty strong stuff. Your beer on Tragon must be as weak as the Kiwi brew." After this, he staggered upstairs to his room. A couple of the other girls were consoling Deb. The next day, I hauled myself out of bed about 11 a.m. feeling the effects of the previous night. I got to work on the little bloke’s wagon. The differential was buggered. It really needed replacing altogether, but there were no suitable parts listed in the catalogues -that's the trouble with these custom made jobs. In the end I was able to codge up something that would get it back on the road for at least long enough for Lugon's purposes. Lugon turned up at six in the afternoon. "Quite a night wasn't it mate. If you'd kept yourself tidier. I reckon you'd have been in like flynn with Deb. Feeling better now?" "Yes thank you Greg." “Listen, I've just got her finished. The parts aren't available here, so I had to improvise a bit. Just keep your speed down, and keep away from the cops because they'd defect you soon as look at you. I know you've come a long way. but if you could try to settle the bill by the end of the month?” I knew I was being a bit hopeful here. Generally it’s cash on the nail with these out of towners because you know you're never going to see them again. Still, it was the boss's loss not mine. "I thank you again, Greg. I shall always remember the help you have given me. Regrettably, I shall not be back on your planet in your lifetime. However. as a token of my gratitude, and of the friendship of my planet to yours. I beg you to accept this."

He handed me a little presentation case. I shook his hand and again noticed the funny buzzing noise. He climbed into his dune buggy and drove off back along the track. That was the last I saw of him. I opened the little case. Inside there was an inscribed medallion and a little covering note. I read the note first. "The bearer of this medallion is guaranteed safe conduct in all the planets of the Universe where the name of Tragon is known. Any intelligent life form doing harm to the bearer is no friend of Tragon." And it had Lugon's signature. I took up the medallion in my hand. The inscription read "Friend of Tragon." “Funny little guy,” I chuckled to myself, tossing it into the forty four gallon drum we use as a rubbish bin.

Disclaimer All extra-terrestrials appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real extra-terrestrials, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Author’s note: If you found this e-book entertaining, please take the time to provide an online review. Other e-books by the same author: Twilight of The Bald and Other Stories Terra Nullius - The Definite History Whodunnit Mrs Christie O Juliet, Juliet The Last Illusion Are Extra-Terrestrials Edible?