It just isn’t supposed to snow in May, not in Iowa. It especially isn’t supposed to snow fourteen inches. That is exactly what happened, however. Lance Gunderson looked at the havoc that had been unleashed on his backyard. The wet, heavy snow had broken branches off of nearly every one of the freshly budded trees. The worst damage was done to the old oak at the back edge of his property. The immense weight of the snow, combined with the moist soil, had caused the ancient tree to fall, uprooted. The oak sat at a forty-five-degree angle, half of its roots ripped from the ground.

Lance shook his head in despair; cleaning this mess was going to take days. “Well, why not?” he thought. “It’s not like anything ever goes my way anyhow.” The one saving grace of the surprising turn of the weather was that it would give Lance something to do. He spent way too much time sitting alone in his sparsely furnished house.

Lance began surveying the damage. He would be able to cut up most of the tree in a day or two. His biggest problem was going to be getting rid of the stump. While he inspected the base of the tree, Lance noticed a metal object at the bottom of the gaping hole the fallen tree had created. Something other than snow was reflecting the morning sun. Lance grabbed a shovel and climbed into the pit. He started to dig around the mysterious shape. The roots of the tree were intertwined with the partially buried object. After a lot of work and a good amount of cussing, Lance finally pulled the discovery from its hiding place.

What he held in his hands was a shiny container, about the size of a shoebox, though he was certain that this package did not contain sneakers. It was heavy for its size and appeared to have an elaborate locking system. Chilled by the wind, Lance decided to carry on his investigation in the warmth of his garage. While he carried the chest to the workshop, his imagination came up with all sorts of hypotheses about the wonderous treasure his discovery could hold.

Inside the shop, Lance examined it more closely. The box was made of metal. It looked like aluminum but proved to be heavier and stronger. The lock required a combination. His options, however, were not numbers or letters but a set of strange symbols. There were fifteen different markings on each of three fifteen-sided polygons. Lance was certain that all he needed to do was turn each polygon so that the correct symbol was at the top and the box would open. He started randomly trying combinations.

Twenty minutes and just over two hundred tries later, Lance calculated the number of different combinations a lock of this type could have. Realizing that there were thousands of possible solutions, he decided to take a different, more aggressive, tack.

He was unable to make the tiniest dent in the box with a hammer, sledgehammer, power drill, power saw, or by dropping it on the ground and kicking it. The latter maneuver was done more out of frustration than an attempt at opening the case and resulted in a very sore toe and a string of swear words that were so vile they could have melted the box. They did not.

Unwilling to give up the potential bounty the case held, Lance decided to set it aside and create a systematic list of all possible combinations. If he checked two or three whenever he entered the workshop, he would have the box open eventually.

*     *     *
It was another boring Wednesday afternoon, over a year later, when Lance found the combination that worked. Lance, who had taken early retirement from his job at the window factory, lived alone and spent most of his time either watching television or tinkering with small projects in his workshop. Retiring at age fifty-five had seemed like a good idea at the time. However, his divorce and the thought of spending decades alone were making him second guess his decision.

Somehow, he had managed to keep the house in the divorce settlement, though he usually complained that the house and a small portion of his pride were the only things he had not lost. He hadn’t told a soul about his discovery. He rarely talked to anyone else. Whatever treasure he found inside the case would belong only to him.

When the third polygon was set into place, the box made a clicking sound followed by a whirring noise, similar to a hydraulic cylinder moving into place. Larry flinched a little as he lifted the lid. A puff of white smoke rose from within. Oddly, the smoke hovered above the box for a moment before floating to and through the front door of the garage. Lance dismissed the odd behavior of the fog. He was more concerned with what was inside the box. To his great dismay, the box was empty. Multiple searches did not find even the minutest piece of treasure. The case was as empty as Lance’s life.

Lance inspected the box for some sort of secret compartment. It just did not make sense that anyone would bury a locked metal box with nothing inside. Again, this search proved fruitless, as did throwing the box against the wall and reciting an unabridged list of every four-letter word known to man.

He had just finished his outburst when Larry heard the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him. He turned to find Mrs. Elvira Stapleton, his eighty-year-old next-door neighbor, standing behind him. She wore a flannel housecoat, which was loosely wrapped about her body. Fluffy pink slippers adorned her feet.

Red in the face, embarrassed about being caught in the middle of his obscenity-laced explosion, Larry shrugged and addressed the old woman. “Sorry, Elvira. I’m having a tough time with something this morning.”

His neighbor remained expressionless. “I am not Elvira,” she stated, “though I do have access to a number of her memories and much of her knowledge. She does not like you very much. You aren’t very friendly to her or her dog, Pixie.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Lance. Mrs. Stapleton could be odd at times, but this was taking it to an entirely different level.

“My name is Borvon. You released me from my prison. I would like to thank you. I did not wish to take command of your body, so I found the nearest individual and took possession. This is not a very pleasant body to be in. It is very difficult to move.”

“This is some kind of joke, right?” Lance looked around his garage, expecting to see hidden cameras. “Who put you up to this, Elvira?”

“I understand your skepticism, but I assure you, I am telling the truth. I was the leader of a planet in the Galigox System. A military coup seized control of the government and I was exiled to this world. I have accessed Elvira’s memories in an attempt to determine how long I was trapped in the box, but it appears to have been for a much longer time than she can envision. I may have been imprisoned since the very beginnings of your world’s existence. But, thanks to you, I am now free.”

“That’s crazy. I like a good sci-fi story as much as the next guy, but this is unbelievable. You mean to tell me you’re that puff of smoke I saw come out of the box. How can you be nothing but a puff of vapor and rule a planet?”

Elvira or Borvon shrugged. “My race has bodies. We can move from one container to another. We are very advanced; advanced to the point where we can control our essence. I believe you call it your soul. My body would have died during my imprisonment. The leaders of the takeover were much too cruel to give me that release. They trapped my being within their prison and abandoned me here.” The sneer that appeared on the old woman’s face was completely out of place. “I must return to my homeworld and regain my position.”

“That’s going to be pretty hard to do,” interjected Lance. “We don’t have much in the way of space travel technology. It takes decades for an unmanned probe to reach the outskirts of our solar system. There is no way for you to get to your planet.”

“I am aware of that. Elvira’s knowledge is mostly limited to pie recipes and soap operas, but I was able to garner some information about your world. I believe that I can take over leadership of your planet with relative ease and have your people help me create a vessel that will allow me to return to my world.”

“I don’t think I can let you do that,” said Lance, though he had no idea how to interfere with the alien’s scheme. Even if he punched Elvira and knocked her out, the alien would just move to another host, maybe even himself.

“Do not fear,” replied Borvon. “I am not an evil being. I will simply take control of different leaders and use their power to create the technology I need. It will be a gift to your world. You will benefit greatly from the technology I introduce. No one will know that I am even here. That is if you do not tell anyone of our encounter.”

“No one would believe me anyhow. I don’t want to be locked away.”

Borvon nodded. “A sentiment I can completely understand. I truly am grateful for the fact that you rescued me. I shall consider you a friend and will, on occasion, return to you and see how you are doing. I want you to understand that I am a benevolent ruler. I have noticed that Elvira has some sort of illness forming in her lungs. I will cure that before leaving her body and moving on to my next host. She will not remember my presence when she awakes.”

“That seems like a very nice thing to do.” Lance didn’t know what else to say. He was still expecting to find out this entire conversation was some sort of prank.

“Before I go, I do have one question.” The alien in an old woman’s body began moving towards the door. “Is Elvira’s belief that the President of the United States is the most powerful person on your planet correct?”

Lance nodded. “Yeah, I think that is a safe assumption. There are lots of powerful countries with different leaders, but I think ours is the strongest.”

“Then I shall make my way to this place you call Washington, D.C. Again, thank you. Elvira will wake up to find herself in a chair in her house. You might want to be more friendly to her from now on.”

With that, Elvira walked out of the garage. For the longest time, Lance stared at the door. What had just happened? If it was real, he had just sent an alien to take possession of the President.

“Oh well, I didn’t vote for him,” said Lance as he picked up the metal container and placed it high on a shelf.

*     *     *
When the special bulletin interrupted the baseball game, Lance knew immediately what had happened.

“The President has been placed in a medical facility,” announced the reporter on the scene at the White House. “Apparently, President Lewis began displaying unusual behavior during this morning’s cabinet meeting. A White House spokesman says that it is just a minor case of disorientation and that a complete physical and mental check-up is currently underway. We will have more details as they become available.”

Lance could imagine the response of the officials at the meeting when the President suddenly declared that the U.S. needed to divert funding to create intergalactic flight technology. They must have thought the President was having some sort of stroke or mental breakdown. This was not going to be good for the President moving forward, whether Borvon possessed him or not. Lance shook his head and smiled to himself. The alien may have once been the intelligent and powerful leader of an entire planet, but he did not understand human nature at all.

*     *     *
Lance was not surprised when Elvira knocked on his front door a few days later. He had taken Borvon’s advice and gone out of his way to be more friendly toward his neighbor. She may have been old and crotchety, but she had a kind personality and told some wonderful stories. Lance found that he enjoyed her occasional visits. It was nice to talk to someone.

“I do not know how your government accomplishes anything,” Elvira announced as she entered Lance’s living room. “It is quite complicated and confusing.”

“Is that you, Borvon?” asked Lance.

“Yes, it is me. I had to abandon your president. His underlings did not immediately obey my directives.”

“That’s the way we like it. The harder it is to get things done, the less likely they mess things up.”

Borvon nodded in agreement. “I don’t know how they get anything done. Perhaps I should take possession of the leader of some other country.”

Lance didn’t know if he liked that idea. “Maybe you should take a different approach. I’ve been thinking about this. Why don’t you try taking over the body of some famous scientist and invent or discover a breakthrough that will lead to intergalactic travel?”

“That might be a good idea,” the old woman awkwardly patted Lance on the head. “I will use Google to find an appropriate host.” Borvon paused before exiting through the front door. “Oh, by the way, Elvira is pleased that you have taken the time to say ‘hi’ to her the last couple of weeks. I am going to cure her arthritis to repay her for hosting me again.”

“That’s nice of you,” replied Lance.

After the would-be ruler of Earth left, Lance thought to himself, “You know, if he keeps this up, Elvira is going to come out ahead in this deal.”

*     *     *
About two months later, Lance was just finishing up mowing the lawn when he noticed Mrs. Stapleton coming out of her house. The elderly woman had been much spryer and more energetic in recent weeks. She had even begun to wear clothing other than her old housecoat. Today she wore beige slacks and a pastel-colored blouse. If nothing else, Borvon’s arrival had been good for her. Lance gave her a friendly wave and smile. Elvira did not wave back or come to the fence and talk as she usually did. She had a frustrated look on her face as she entered Lance’s yard and headed straight for the garage, waving for him to follow.

“So, the scientist idea didn’t work either?” asked Lance as he came through the door.

“It would have,” answered a scowling Borvon, “but it is impossible to get enough funding to even get started on the technology. Everyone loves my ideas, but they all say it can’t be done. No one has enough money to even purchase the equipment to test my theories. At this rate, I will never get the vessel built. There has to be another way.”

Lance thought for a moment. He felt sorry for the alien and wanted to help him. It wasn’t as if any of the schemes that Borvon came up with were going to have any effect on his life. “Well, if money is the issue, why not become someone who is very wealthy and can give funding to the science programs?”

Borvon smiled. “Why didn’t I think of that? Excellent idea. Thank you so much. By the way, I am going to fix Elvira’s bunion.”

*     *     *
Lance was completely surprised when Tommy Huebner, the little boy from across the street, barged into his house one early fall afternoon.

“The wealthy person idea didn’t work either,” he called out before the door was even closed behind him.

“Borvon?” Lance asked while he rose from his recliner.

“Yes. Elvira wasn’t home.”

“She has been going to the casino with a group of retired widows quite a bit lately,” informed Lance. “Why didn’t it work to take control of a rich person?”

“The rich may have money, but they rarely have access to it. I possessed three different incredibly wealthy people and could barely get enough money to start working on the project. Their money is all tied up in investments or under the control of some sort of board.”

Lance put his head down to hide his smile. Since Tommy didn’t have any front teeth, every time Borvon tried to say a word with the letter s, he whistled.

“There are a lot of rich people out there. Why don’t you keep moving around till you get enough money?”

Borvon shook Tommy’s head. “By the time I take control and get the next billionaire to invest, the previous one takes back their contribution. I need to find a way to get all the funding at one time.”

“You could start a Go-Fund-Me page.”

Borvon stared at Lance, a confused expression on his face.

“It’s a way for people to donate money for a cause or a project,” explained Lance.

“There is no way I would be able to get enough people to contribute. I need quite a bit of money.”

Maybe it was the form he had taken, but to Lance, Borvon seemed to be very whiny this visit. It was obvious that the alien was extremely frustrated with his growing number of failures.

“If a celebrity, and I mean a very famous person, made a call to the public to contribute, it could work.” Lance wasn’t certain that his idea would be successful, but he wanted to try and help Borvon.

“Ok. Will you show me how to set up the funding thing you are talking about? Then I will try to find an appropriate celebrity.” Borvon did not appear very hopeful.

“I will get someone to set up the page for you. I don’t know computers that well, but one of the guys I used to work with is pretty good with them. I’ll set up a meeting with him. Maybe I’ll go out with the old work crew. It could be fun. I’ll get the page set up for you. I don’t think we can set up the page in your name. You would need your parents’ permission.”

Borvon smiled. “I get your humor. I think you should know that Tommy calls you ‘the grumpy old guy.’ The boy is often lonely and could use a friend.”

“Couldn’t we all,” thought Lance. He gave the alien a quick wave and watched the boy head back to his home.

*     *     *
Lance knew that Borvon’s next attempt had failed long before Borvon showed up in the garage. Lance had been watching the National Music Awards when sexy female hip-hop artist Samantha Sly interrupted her acceptance speech to make a heartfelt plea for people to contribute to a Go-Fund-Me page to provide money to develop interstellar space travel. The social media reaction made it clear that no one took her request seriously.

The next two weeks found Samantha Sly making multiple appearances to push her agenda of scientific contribution. The situation did not improve. She became the butt of numerous late-night television monologue jokes and a multitude of memes. The Fund-Me page did not receive many donations.

A day or two later, Lance was working on the playhouse he and Tommy were building when Borvon came to see him. He was not surprised by Borvon’s return. He was shocked that he did so in the form of Samantha Sly.

“Borvon, what are you doing still in her body? How did you ever get here?”

The beautiful young woman shook her head, dejected. “I really don’t care. The whole experience has been horrible. No one gives this woman any respect. They simply see her for her body and her voice and not for her mind. I don’t know how she can put up with that kind of treatment. I just had to get away from all the cameras and the taunting questions. I rented a private jet and flew to the airport nearest here, then took a cab.”

“I’m sure there are going to be a lot of reporters and fans following you. What are you going to do? What is your next plan?” asked Lance. He went to the door of the garage and locked it.

“I am giving up. I can’t do this. I would rather be locked in that box than have to put up with years of abuse and failure while attempting to get back to my planet.” Tiny tears were forming in the woman’s eyes. “I want you to put me back in the box and bury me somewhere. Maybe in another thousand years, someone will find me after interstellar flight is discovered.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am positive. Please get the box.”

Lance removed the case from the shelf where it had rested since he had originally opened it. He set the case in front of the gorgeous singer.

“You know, you could just stay with me. Find an empty or dying body and take it over.”

Borvon looked at Lance and sighed. “Thank you for the offer, but my mind is made up. You have been a good friend, Lance. I wish you well. Do you have any illness or pain you would like me to cure?”

“No, I think I am fine. I’m freaked out about the thought of you taking over my body. No offense.”

“I understand,” said Borvon. “You might want to get Samantha a chair.”

Lance obliged, grabbing a folding chair from along the wall. He set it in front of Borvon, who sat down, tucking at the short skirt as he did so.

“Goodbye.”

A wisp of white smoke emerged from Miss Sly’s nose. It lingered in the air for a few seconds before settling into the waiting case. It was Lance’s turn to sigh as he closed the box and randomly rotated the polygon combination. He picked up the box and a shovel and went out into his backyard. He dug an especially deep hole near his small garden. He wanted to make sure the box was buried deep enough that no one would find it for a very long time. When he finally finished his task, he grabbed the shovel and returned to the garage.

He was greeted by a very confused-looking international superstar. It took him quite a while to settle her down. However, after an explanation involving random amnesia, a couple of frantic phone calls, a piece of pie with Elvira, and a request for an autograph for Tommy, Lance called for an Uber and sent Samantha on her way. She was still in a daze as she entered the vehicle for the ride to the nearest airport, where her agent would meet her. For all her fame, she had turned out to be a very nice young lady.

Lance waved goodbye as the car drove off. He would miss the unscheduled visits from Borvon. The alien ruler had proven to be a good friend. Lance had to admit his life was better for having met him. He glanced at his watch; it was nearly five o’clock. He would barely have time to show Tommy the modifications he was planning for the playhouse before getting ready to go join the old work gang at a local sports bar to watch the playoff game.