I rode my bicycle on my way home from school just like any other day. The cool breeze splashing on my face gave me the sense of freshness. I didn't have my own car; I didn't need one, since I literally live two and a half blocks away from my school. I live in a small neighborhood in a small town. Everything is just a walking distance away -- or a bicycle ride if you're me. A large forest preserve is right next to my neighborhood just a few blocks away. The scent from the pine trees reminds me of how grateful I am to be so close to nature. I'm glad I don't live in a big city where I have to breathe in smog instead of oxygen.

My mom, Patty, works as a full-time nurse. She's one of those nurses who has a cheerful, excitable personality that would comfort any patient, even when she's not working. She's even taught me basic first aid, and how to handle someone who's having a seizure. It's great having a nurse for a mom who gets to teach you these things. My dad was an the army. He's not around anymore. A blast killed him 5 years ago when he was fighting in the Iraq war. My mom and I miss him from time to time. I mostly missed my dad entering the house always smiling, and hugging me with hellos. At least I still have my mom around, and I am thankful for that.

When I entered the house, I found my mom in the kitchen, arranging a big basket of fruit on the table that's been cut up into fancy shapes. The sight of it looked like a rainbow filling up the kitchen with its gorgeous colors.

"Hi, Kaley," Mom called.

"Hi, Mom," I answered back. "What're you doing?"

"I'm just cutting out these fruits for our new neighbor," she said.

"We have a new neighbor?"

"Yes," Mom said. "He just came here today. I decided to give him a basket of fruit as a gift." She placed lotus-shaped cantaloupe in the center of the basket. A finishing touch. "Will you take this to him?"

"OK," I said. She handed me the basket and washed her hands.

"He's on the left side of our house," she called out when I headed out the door.

When I arrived at my neighbor's door, I knocked on it twice and a tall, blond-headed man opened the door. His physique reminded me of a Ken doll. He looked like he was a college student in his early twenties, had a clean, shaven face and a strong chin. He also had big hands and muscular arms too. With his features, he definitely looked like someone I would want to have a crush on.

"Hi," I said cheerily.

"Hi there," he replied.

"My mom wanted me to give you this gift. Just to say welcome to the neighborhood," I said.

"Thanks," he smiled. "I appreciate it."

He took the basket out of my hand and started examining it.

"Beautiful," he complimented. "Look how neatly your mother cut the fruits out. Look at the details. Magnifique! I love how the colors blend together."

"You're an artist?" I asked.

"Yep," he said, matter-of-factly. "Your mother did a nice job. I really like it. Tell her I said thank you. By the way, my name's Kyle."

"Kaley," I smile.

Looked like we were going to be great acquaintances.

I started to notice a group of elderly men conversing loudly as they were walking pass Kyle's house. Among them was Mr. Handerma; he's is the loudest talker in the neighborhood. Mr. Handerman is somewhere in his late fifties or early sixties who lived alone ever since I moved into the neighborhood when I was very young. Some of the other folks in my neighborhood called him "Old Man Handy" or something like that. He loves socializing with others, but they don't often like socializing with him because everyone thinks he's a typical crazy old man. But I don't think he's crazy; he reminds me of a little enthusiastic kid trapped in an elderly man's body. I'm probably the only one who enjoys socializing with him.

As they walk past, I couldn't help overhearing what Mr. Handerman was saying.

"When I was drivin' down the road from work," he said, "I saw a meteor, or a spaceship, coming down from the sky. I believe it looked like a spaceship because I never saw a meteor twice as big as a truck. Anyway, it landed on the ground, so I pulled my car over and went to see it up close. And to my eyes, it was definitely a space ship. Its bright lights were flashing on and off. But then the door opened up and out came a human. I think it was a human; it was too dark to tell. But I don't think it was human because why would a human speak to me in a bizarre language I've never heard of? And believe me, I know multiple languages, and this one I've never heard of before. That's when I realize it was an alien!"

An alien? Did he say he saw an alien?

"Sure you saw it," one of the guys said, sarcastically. "Say hi to E.T. for me." The other guys laughed at his joke. I hate when people make fun of others when they're really telling the truth.

"Hey," Kyle called them, "I saw it too."

The guys just looked at him. Then one of them said, "Everybody's a critic." They laughed some more. Mr. Handerman looked really down. He didn't say anything back at them; all he did was walk away with his shoulders slouched sadly.

I was really upset with them. I wanted to do something, but I didn't know what to say. Plus, it wasn't my business. Kyle just waved them off and rolled his eyes.

"I believe you," I said encouragingly .

"Actually, I didn't see anything. I just wanted the old man to have another witness. I was feeling bad for him."

What a big liar! I wanted to say this in front of him, but I held my tongue.

After I said goodbye to Kyle, I headed back into the house. Mom already made dinner, so I sat at the dinner table, while she served me and herself some food.

"So how was the new neighbor?" she asked

"He seems nice," I said while I ate. "His name's Kyle. He loved her fruit basket. He said it was artistically creative. He's an artist, by the way."

"That's sweet of him. I'm glad he liked it."

We ate in momentarily silence. Then I said, "Hey, Mom. While Kyle and I were talking, we noticed some other guys teasing Mr. Handerman. They think he's crazy because he claims he saw an alien. I don't believe he's crazy or a liar. I didn't like how they were teasing Old Man Handy."

"Well," Mom began, "Mr. Handerman is a nice man, but we don't know what he saw. He's been living alone for a very long time, and sometimes, when you've been alone for a long time, you make say stuff to get attention. He probably was just idle talking. Besides, who believes in aliens?"

"I do," I said.

Mom stopped eating and just stared at me, dumbfounded.

"Honey, there are no such things as aliens. There hasn't been any proof that they exist."

"But what if they do exist? What if we weren't looking in the right places? Maybe they live far, like a million light-years away or something, and we just don't have the technology to look deep enough."

Mom laid her hand on my arm. "Honey, there are no aliens."

"That's what you want to believe," I mumbled.

"Excuse me?" she said firmly, waiting for an answer. I was starting to push her buttons. But I didn't answer her. I just stuffed my mouth with more food and continue to eat in silence.

The next day, the news about Mr. Handerman's story spread all over the town, even in school. News and gossips spreads fast when you live in a small town. All the kids were talking about Handerman. I didn't want to get hooked on this rumor just like everyone else. I didn't like rumors at all. I usually stay out of it as best as I can. I met up with my two friends, Amy and Pam, at the entrance of the school. They asked me if I heard about the Mr. Handerman rumor. Great, no way to avoid it now.

"Yeah, I have," I told them.

"Don't you think Old Man Handy is crazy?" Amy asked.

"Not really," I said honestly.

Amy was a short, skinny girl with a sophisticated mind. She had dark brown curly hair and hazel eyes. She can often be pretty critical, stubborn, and skeptical at times, but I'm used to it. That's just her personality - or maybe she was raised that way. Pam, on the other hand, is a lot more fun. She's an African American with short brown hair that's always wrapped up in one or two buns. She had a strong personality that sometimes conflicts with Amy's personality, but she was also a great confidant and do-gooder. She's never afraid to speak her mind, but she always does it in a nice, respectful way. Best of all, she always has our backs. I always love hanging out with them. They're so accepting of me, and despite our differences, we always get along and back each other up.

"Why?" Pam asked me. "He keeps talkin' about some alien he saw, and everybody knows that there are no such things as aliens."

"You're sounding just like my mom," I said. "I believe there are aliens in out there in another galaxy. It's possible. Mr. Handerman is not crazy."

"Girl," Pam said, "you believe in everything."

"Yeah, you do, Kaley," said Amy. "You believe in anything that doesn't make sense."

"I do not," I protested. "I only believe in aliens, crop circles, and the lost city of Atlantis."

"And those are all fake, duh," said Amy. "It's a bunch of jokes and hoaxes. Like the alligator living in the sewers."

"No, they're not," I debated, "they are not fake. There was some evidence found."

"Seriously, Kaley?" scoffed Amy.

"Hey, chill, you guys," Pam butted in. "Let's just keep our own opinions to ourselves and not turn this into a fight, ok?"

"I agree," I said.

"Fine," Amy huffed. Throughout the whole day, we kept off that subject.

OK, I know I sound a little weird, but I'm not mental, I swear. I'm just love hearing stories about the unknown. It's like my hobby. It amazes me. Ever since I was a kid, the weird and unusual always fascinated me. I was always curious about the truths of the unknown and always wanted to prove them. Other girls are into clothes, makeup, reality show, and soapy dramas, but I'm into the unknown phenomenon. Guess that sort of makes me a geek. Kids at school think it is all weird and nonsense, and they think I'm retarded. But I don't care what people believe or say, I just want to keep believing there is proof out there, somewhere.