My friend Jeannie and I have a ritual. Well, something less than a ritual, since it comes at no prearranged time, but almost a ritual, since eventually, it comes. We call each other on the telephone. She, to make sure that I am still living in the Land of Lollipops and Happy Endings. Me, to be annoying and tyrannical.

So far, it has worked.

But a few weeks ago, when The Purple People Eater entered into the conversation (I don’t know why he suddenly appeared), everything seemed to go sideways. Or upside down. Or both.

For those of you not of the generation that followed The Greatest Generation, an explanation may be in order. The Purple People Eater was the subject of a song written by Sheb Wooley called, not surprisingly, “The Purple People Eater.” Here are some of the lyrics:

“Well, I saw the thing comin' out of the sky

It had the one long horn, one big eye

I commenced to shakin' and I said "ooh-eee"

It looks like a purple people eater to me.

“It was a one-eyed, one-horned, flyin' purple people eater

(One-eyed, one-horned, flyin' purple people eater)

A one-eyed, one-horned, flyin' purple people eater

Sure looks strange to me (one eye?)”

Yes. Those were the songs we sang in our teens. Along with “Itsy Bitsy Tiny Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini,” “The Chipmunk Song,” and “Hello Muddah. Hello Faddah! (A letter from camp).”

Aah…youth!

But back to The Purple People Eater and our conversation. Which I blame entirely on Jeannie!

I was minding my own business and drinking a cup of tea. But when I heard the words that she said into the phone, I almost choked on that last gulp.

Shamelessly and with no regard for philosophical niceties, she asked, “Did you ever wonder if The Purple People Eater was purple, I mean his skin shade, and if he ate people of any color? Or if he had no particular pigmentation, but he ate purple people…meaning people with purple skin?”

Among life’s imponderables, such as whether or not one can drink safely from a garden hose, how many angels can dance on the head of a pin, and did Moses really part the Red Sea or was it just an opportune low tide, I admit that this had never demanded my attention.

And yet, when I think that an entire generation (who burned bras, invented hula hoops, and introduced “awesome,” “outta sight,” and “ditz” to the lexicon), never before thought to ask such an important question, it makes the mind reel.

Over the following weeks, my friend and I continued to discuss the question of The Purple People Eater’s racial attributes and/or culinary preferences, until this morning, when Jeannie said casually, “These are things that we, as a society, should be alert to.” Or maybe she said, “These are things to which we as a society should be alert.” I’m not sure of the grammar, but I immediately seized upon one word from her sentence and one question that had always bothered me.

“Where do you think it comes from?” I asked.

“Where does what come from?” She responded.

“A lert,” I said. “You know. Those little guys that run around with pencil thin legs, hairy bodies, and no necks. Lerts. They’re called “lerts’.”

She stared at me blankly through my telephone receiver (yes. One CAN do that.”)

I grinned. Finally we had something significant to discuss. Finally…but wait a second. What’s going on here? I look down.

A small, hairy, entity about the size of a grapefruit is breathing hot air on my ankle. It has one eye and one horn. It is a lert. It must be a lert. Or…wait! Do I see a pale tinge of purple beneath its skin? Is it…? Can it be a…? Now what? What was that? A tug? Yes. No. Oh, no! It has started to tug on my right sock, and…

Gasp. Gulp. Pant. Wheeze.

Good grief.

IT LOOKS HUNGRY!!

Copyright © Shelly Reuben, 2021. Shelly Reuben’s books have been nominated for Edgar, Prometheus, and Falcon awards. For more about her writing, visit www.shellyreuben.com