The Name To Remember - Flash Fiction
Updated: 3 days ago
A flash fiction story set at a wedding reception. In “The Name To Remember,” Greg Luti follows a reluctant guest who politely endures an older man’s long, increasingly wild story about being abducted by aliens — and finds that getting away is not quite as simple as it looks.
I sat at a corner table of a wedding reception as a friend of a family member was telling me about an alien abduction he had. I tried my best to eat my chicken and drink my beer as he went on and on about the occasion. There is nothing quite like a family gathering with a person you barely know telling you about a time when the green men came to visit.
I just sat there and listened, offering comments that proved attentiveness but not engagement. The individual speaking was an older gentleman, someone my parents knew from a while back. Surely if one of them were around, they would be able to better identify this person. I can’t even tell you honestly who this guy was, but he needed an audience, and I was the one stuck listening.
The man finally got up to get some more food, and he ended his conversation. He didn’t really say bye to me, either, as much as he stopped talking and walked away.
I then headed for the trash can to throw out whatever was left on my plate, in my attempt not to have to sit down with that stranger again. I threw out my plate and put my beer on a counter by the window.
A man whom I also didn’t recognize was standing next to the counter and started chatting with me. I looked around the room for my family members, but they were all in line getting more food. I was stuck talking to another stranger I didn’t know.
“Nice party so far.” He said in a stern, almost intimidating voice.
“Uh… yeah.” I was not in the mood to hear another old guy give a hyperbolic tale.
“The name is William. I am an uncle of the groom.”
“Oh, yeah. My name is Justin. I am a cousin to the bride.” I skipped telling him of the history I have with the bride on account of the fact that I was not very interested in speaking with this man.
“That’s nice.” He stated as he drank from his cold beer. “I couldn’t help but listen in on that story that the other guy was telling you. That is quite a thing to bring up at a place like this.”
“Yeah, I don’t really know him either.”
“Haha. I could tell. Alien abductions are not really the type of conversation for wedding receptions.”
“Oh, you mean, you don’t go around telling everyone at the reception about the time you got abducted?”
He found that comment amusing. “Not exactly.”
“That guy forgot to mention a crucial part of the experience. Probably would have saved him some time. Plus for you, you wouldn’t have to listen to as long a story either.”
I was lost in the message this stranger was trying to tell me. I figured I’d give him a chance to say whatever joke or remark he wanted about the other guy’s story, and then I could get back to doing what I was doing. I was already drinking, so allowing this guy a moment to be witty wouldn’t hurt. I motioned for my drink as I noticed it was empty, and a refill was desperately needed.
Just as I thought the conversation would end, since he said nothing of wit yet, the stranger spoke up. “Do yourself a favor. If you ever find yourself in a tough spot, say like what you were talking about with that alien fella over there, just say one guy’s name. That is all you have to do.”
“I’m not following.” I didn’t know what this guy was talking about, but he sounded like he was about to tell me about his alien abduction experience. Is this guy speaking in code, or am I drinking too much? I couldn’t tell.
He took another sip of his beer. “I will say it plain for you then. If you are ever scared of something like an alien, say the name, Jesus Christ. See how they react to it.”
I chuckled at the absurd comment. “I mean, you can’t be serious….” I don’t know what I thought was more out there, the suggestion or that this guy was seriously bringing up Christ in a room full of heathens.
“There is only one way to find out. I mean, when they are abducting you, ready to probe you, and you have no other choice, maybe his name may save you.”
“You seem to have experience with this,” I said, half-kidding, giving up on my empty bottle.
He winked at me. “Maybe.” He began to walk away. “Remember, kid, the darkness is always afraid of the light. Enjoy the party.”
He walked away, and then I found my family and sat with them for the rest of the evening, dancing and enjoying the food and music of the event. The exchange I had with the stranger had slipped my mind.
When I brought up the individual at the breakfast table the next morning to my family, none of them knew who he was, and they reasoned I had misidentified one of my uncle’s brothers.
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