The Invaders(Martin Green) 2014
The Invaders (Approx. 2,300 wds.)


Sally had just put down the phone after one of her marathon phone calls with her sister Birdie (as they’d been brought up in the South neither knew how to say good-bye) and had said something to Paul Lerner. The remark hadn’t registered at first since Paul was immersed in the Sunday crossword puzzle, but then it hit with the force of a wrecking ball. “What!” he exclaimed. “Tell me you’re joking.” Sally had told him that Birdie and her husband Beau were considering moving from their mansion-like house near Seattle to the Lerners’ retirement community just outside of Sacramento, the capital of California.

“Why?” asked Paul.

“Birdie says she’s tired of keeping up such a large house. She’s also tired of gardening. Beau of course is hopeless both inside and outside. Besides, she says they’re getting older and it might be good to be with family.”

No, it wouldn’t be good, not for him, Paul thought to himself. Birdie and Beau. Paul had always considered both names absurd. Birdie conjured up an image of a tiny woman with fine features, small bones and a trilling voice. Actually, Birdie was a large woman, taller than Sally, who was relatively tall herself, and perhaps three times as broad. Come to think of it, she did have a rather shrill voice, a little odd coming from such a large woman. Beau was almost equally large, with a moustache under a sizeable nose.

Paul and Sally had visited them a few times, always in the summer to get away from the Sacramento Valley heat. Birdie was a good hostess, Paul had to admit. She was very organized; in fact, she had all of their activities planned down to the last minute. Beau always went along with whatever Birdie wanted to do. He was a great National Geographic reader and liked to regale Paul with strange facts, which Paul found boring. After about three days of this regimen, Paul found it irksome, and incidents cropped up when he balked at doing something and Birdie went off to pout while Sally remonstrated with him. They always went out for dinner and Birdie and Beau would spend hours discussing the menu with their server. Paul had never seen anyone eat as much as those two.

“Are they really coming here then?” Paul asked Sally.

“Yes, the weekend after next. We don’t have anything on then.

“They won’t be staying with us, will they?”

“Oh, no. Birdie said she’d look online and find a motel close to us.”

“Did you tell her how hot it is here?”

“Yes. She said they were getting tired of all that rain.”

“Then I don’t suppose there’s anything we can do. They’re coming.” Like Attila and his Huns. Paul shivered.


Paul and Sally had been in their retirement community for almost ten years. Paul was a respected resident, having served on several committees and had been an officer for two or three clubs. He had also attained a certain celebrity as a writer of two columns in the senior newspaper all residents received in the mail every month. One column was called “Observations” and the other “Favorite Restaurants,” Paul having observed that this was a favorite activity of retired couples where the wives were tired of cooking. He’d been an active tennis player before his creaking knees forced him to hang up his racket and now he played billiards three times a week. Paul and Sally had a fair amount of social activity, Sally more so as she was a member of the community’s Chorus and of the Art Club and seemed to be constantly going to meetings and lunches. Paul himself had one lunch group, with three friends he’d met in a writers’ critique group. The truth was that Paul was a private person and didn’t mind spending time by himself, reading, writing and taking his afternoon nap with his big cat Shandyman on his lap. Now all of this was threatened. He recalled the line from a song from “My Fair Lady,” let a woman in your life and your serenity is through. If Birdie and Beau moved in, no doubt his serenity would be done for.

As it happened, Paul’s lunch group met the following day, eating in the community’s restaurant. “You look gloomy, Paul,” said Max Wagner, who was trying to write a musical play.

“You do,” said Sid Paulsen, who wrote an occasional poem.

“What’s up?” said Carl Kennedy, who wasn’t really a writer but had somehow become part of their group.

Paul told them about the impending invasion of his sister-in-law and her husband. “Come on, they can’t be that bad,” said Max.

“Believe me, they are.”

“My brother-in law is pretty bad,” said Sid. “Luckily they’re in Florida and would never move out here.”

“You can stay at my place if you have to escape,” offered Karl, who was a widower.

At this point, Alice, the veteran waitress who’d been at the restaurant forever, came over to take their orders. “I’ll have my usual,” said Paul. He thought the restaurant’s hamburgers were good and always had them. The others ordered and they continued their conversation, touching on the sad state of the world, politics, Syria, Iraq, ISIS and everything else that was going wrong. When Alice came with their meals, she said, “Hey, things can’t be that bad. You’re still here, aren’t you? Don’t worry, things will work out.”

Paul had his doubts, but his hamburger anyway was as good as usual.


On the appointed day, Birdie and Beau duly arrived, somewhat late in the afternoon. “He didn’t listen to me and took the wrong exit,” said Birdie in her shrill voice. “It’s a wonder we didn’t get lost. We’ve already checked in at our motel.”

Sally asked what motel they were staying at and Birdie gave the name of the most expensive place in the area, which was further away than several she could have recommended. But Birdie liked to make her own reservations and they were invariably at the most expensive places. “I like to go first-class,” she had said more than once.

Sally brought out cold drinks and Birdie surveyed the house. “It’s awfully small,” she said. Paul and Sally had selected this model because they liked it and it was moderately priced, thinking they’d rather use their money to travel. They’d since had the patio enclosed and this gave them much more space. “I don’t see how you can move around without bumping into each other,” said Birdie. “I know Beau and I couldn’t.”

Paul refrained from saying that as Birdie and Beau were about three times as wide as he and Sally they were more likely to be bumping into each other. Instead, he pointed out the enclosed patio, which didn’t seem to impress Birdie much. She asked about home prices, which had been going back up, and about the monthly fees. She was disappointed to find out the fees didn’t include maintenance of the houses. Paul explained the fees paid for such amenities as the Lodge, the Fitness Center, a small library, meeting rooms, tennis courts and the like, also the golf course that was the center of the community.

“I might like to take up golf,” said Beau.

“Don’t make me laugh,” sniffed Birdie. “I don’t see much sense in hitting a little white ball. Besides, you’d be terrible at it.”

They got around to discussing plans for the rest of the day. “We can drive you around to give you an idea of what the community looks like,” said Paul. “Then we could show you the Lodge and Fitness Center and all that, and I thought we could have dinner at our restaurant. It’s not bad.”

But Birdie had other plans. She named a restaurant she’d found online she’d like to have dinner at. It was famous for its steaks and was by far the most expensive one in the area, the reason Paul and Sally had never been there. Paul knew there’d be no arguing with Birdie and the restaurant was located across from their shopping mall so they could take a look there and then have dinner. Birdie said they’d take their car so that they could then go back to their motel. She was still tired from their unnecessarily long drive from Washington.


When Paul looked at the menu he gulped. It was worse, and more expensive, than he’d expected. He looked at Sally, who met his eyes and they both ordered the most inexpensive entrée. As in previous times when they’d had dinner out, Birdie and Beau both ordered the largest steak possible, plus a few side dishes, plus a bottle of wine. As before, Paul marveled at how much his sister-in-law and her husband could eat, and they were still ready for a dessert. They did share their bottle of wine. Before dinner, they had toured the mall, which Birdie had pronounced inferior to those in Washington. She hadn’t been overly impressed with the Lodge or the Fitness Center either. When Paul had showed her and Beau the pool room, which held four tables, Beau had expressed some interest. As with golf, Birdie had scoffed and said something about hitting a little ball on a table.

Birdie asked what attractions nearby Sacramento had. Paul said there was of course the Capitol building, also Oldtown, which had a railway museum. Birdie said it didn’t sound like much, especially as compared with Seattle, and Paul couldn’t argue with that. At the end of their meal, Sally said there should be one or two open houses in their retirement community on Sunday. Paul put in that afterward they could have lunch at the community’s restaurant. It was really a nice amenity. With that they went their separate ways.

When Paul and Sally prepared for bed, Sally said, “Well, I don’t think you have to worry about Birdie and Beau invading your sanctuary. She doesn’t seem to be too impressed with anything we’ve shown them so far.”

“Maybe,” said Paul. “I only hope we don’t see a house that Birdie likes tomorrow. You know how she is when she gets enthusiastic about something.”


The first open house they looked at was the model one step up from Paul and Sally’s house so was obviously out of the question. The next one was a larger model and Birdie went through it very carefully, saying things like “I don’t know where we’d put our dining room table” and “The bathroom is on the small side.” Meanwhile, Beau was engaged in conversation with the real estate agent, an attractive woman in her thirties. She pointed out that the garage had space for a golf cart. “Never took up that game,” said Beau, “but I might give it a try.” Birdie was out of earshot so wasn’t able to scoff at Beau’s intentions. After completing her examination of everything in the house, Birdie discussed price with the agent. “It seems rather high to me,” Birdie said. Paul thought to himself that six months ago the price would have been much lower. Since then, the real estate market had come back significantly. Maybe that was a good thing.

Finally they were settled in the community restaurant for lunch. Alice was their waitress and Paul told her he’d have his usual. Birdie and Beau asked many questions about the menu, then finally ordered. Sally had her usual salad. They discussed the last open house. “We might consider it if they came down in price,” said Birdie. Paul involuntarily shivered. Then he reassured himself, with home prices going up, sellers were sticking to their asking prices.

“There’s a nice space where I could have an office,” remarked Beau.

“Why would you need an office?” said Birdie. “And don’t think I didn’t notice your flirting with that real estate lady. I don’t think she was very professional.”

“I was simply asking her about the house,” protested Beau.

Birdie just sniffed. Alice delivered their meals. Beau had ordered the hamburger on Paul’s advice and said it was satisfactory. Birdie said her chicken salad was too soggy. She called Alice over and told her so. She also asked for more water. Alice held the canister over Birdie’s glass and then inexplicably poured the water onto Birdie’s lap. Birdie leaped out of her chair. Alice tried to dry Birdie’s dress with a napkin, all the while apologizing. Paul tried to mop up the water on the table with his napkin. It was chaos for the next five minutes. Alice said she’d bring Birdie another chicken salad. “No thank you,” replied Birdie. She looked at Paul. “So this is your great amenity. I believe we’re ready to go.” With that, she swept away. Beau followed her, followed by Sally. Paul paid their check, leaving Alice a nice tip.

Paul and Sally were again preparing to go to bed. Birdie and Beau had left shortly after lunch, Birdie saying that having water being spilt all over her clinched the matter; they weren’t going to move to a retirement community that didn’t have that much to offer and was in the middle of nowhere, and where you couldn’t enjoy having a simple lunch.
Paul was relieved. The invaders had left. His serenity wasn’t through.

“You know,” said Sally, “that was very odd.”

“What?”

“Alice spilling water on Birdie like that. She’s the best waitress we have. I’m certain she’s never done anything like that before.”

Paul said nothing.

“You didn’t have anything to do with that, I suppose?”

“Of course not.”

“Hmmm. You were pretty upset at the thought that Birdie and Beau might come here. I wonder.”

“It’s just as well that they aren’t. You wouldn’t want your sister bossing you around all the time, would you?”

“I wouldn’t be bossed around.”

“Well, they’re back in Washington now, where everything is fine and dandy.”

“Yes. I still wonder.”

“Good night.”

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