by Aimee Norin
All the guys laughed.
Lourdes blushed even more.
Jim finished addressing the guys: "Because she just flew with me in my plane, and we are gonna go get an ice cream!"
They applauded again, laughing.
"That's it!"
"Go get her!"
Jim grabbed Lourdes' hand and led her quickly out of the caf?.
CHAPTER 15
The lady handed Jim two soft serve cones. "Thanks," he told her and moved to hand one to Lourdes kissing her gently on the lips beforehand.
Lourdes was surprised, but she took the kiss-and there it was again, she noticed, that yearning that rose in her, so needy after so long.
"I sneaked one in," he smiled at her.
They walked through endless rows of homebuilts out on the flight line.
"It's about four," he said, noting the sun. "And it's been a long half-week. Camping tires me."
"Sleeping in a tent," Lourdes agreed.
"And I like it, but I do need to pamper myself a little. Why don't I call up some folks and get us all out to dinner tonight back at the steak house?"
Lourdes was a little reluctant. "I'm not sure. I need to conserve my pennies."
"I'll buy."
"No you won't," Lourdes said, trying to apply the brakes.
"Alright then, you buy your own, but just order a hamburger."
She thought about it. "Okay, this time."
Jim pulled out his phone and made a couple of calls. "So," He said into his phone, "Wanna pick us up at about five over at the airshow Bus Stop just west of the control tower?" Pause. "Great."
The rustic steak house was as warm and inviting as it had been the last time. Eight of them were seated at a large, round table. Servers came and went carrying trays of down home delicacies. Wine was poured. Glasses clinked. People smiled and talked at neighboring tables as well as their own. Occasional laughter confirmed people were having a good evening.
A server sat salads in front of those who had ordered one.
"Now flying, as you know, takes a little bit of fuel," Jim said to the group of fliers at the large, round table.
"Way too much of that," Brad said, a mechanic who was staying with his family for the week in tents next to Mike and Millie's motor home.
"Yeah, it's because of that whirly dicer-thing up front," Mike said.
"The prop?" Millie asked.
"Why does that cause a problem?" Jeremy asked, Brad and Ally's son, who had just graduated high school.
"Not really, J.J. I think he's being poetic," Ally said to clarify.
Jim watched Lourdes pick at her salad.
"I'm fine," she said to him.
"The prop is actually a good thing," Lourdes said to Jeremy, using Mike's comment as a way to make a small joke. "You know what it's for, don't you?"
Older salts sat back and smiled, knowing the old joke's punch line but not robbing Jeremy of the fun.
Lourdes continued. "It's there to keep the pilot cool."
Jeremy looked confused, so Lourdes finished: "If it stops, the pilot starts to sweat."
Jeremy got it and knew he'd been had.
The group laughed.
"I sure wish we could float the planes like they do speeders in Star Wars," Mike said. "Like pod racing? Notice how they seem to float right there a few feet above the ground like that?"
"Need anti-grav," Sophie said, Jeremy's older sister.
Ally was sipping some wine and smiling at her family. "Maybe you can invent it," she said.
"You know, we may not need to," Jim guessed. "Can't we float things with superconductors? Maybe we just need to figure out a way to make some room-temperature superconductors, with a little rheostat on them so you can dial up your altitude."
"Or tie it into a radar altimeter so it'll know to stay a certain distance above terrain," Mike said.
"With some lag built in so it'll be a smooth ride," Jim added.
"Then add some little fans for directional control," Brad said. "If all you do is float 'em up, you'd drift with the wind, so you need to have something to move with."
"Put three such floating nodules in the plane-or car?-and if you had a mechanical breakdown, you could float around up there waiting for a tow truck," Millie said.
"You wouldn't need wings any more for lift. That'd make 'em lighter," Brad said.
Lourdes speared a tomato with some ranch dressing on it.
Jim wasn't having any.
Jeremy went with it. "And then you could do away with actually paving roads. Plant crops there instead."
"Smart kid, there," Ally said.
"Mix all the concrete and asphalt up and ship it to L.A.," Lourdes said sarcastically. "It'll morph into buildings."
There was light general laughter.
"She isn't real fond of L.A.," Jim said to everyone.
"You're from L.A.?" Ally asked Lourdes.
"Yes," Lourdes answered. "That's why."
"What's it like?" Ally asked.
"They put Star Fleet Academy in San Francisco," Lourdes deflected. "Moved the library up there from Cal State, Northridge, it looks like."
Mike jumped at one of his favorite topics. "Like the new Star Trek time line that was out with Chris Pine? Great-"
Sophie jumped in. "And in this one, they actually said it was a new timeline right in the show."
"Yup," Jim said.
Turning to Millie, Sophie said, "Jeremy, says it's his fave."
"I actually enjoyed it, too," Millie said with a warm smile.
Mike jumped back in with his British accent showing. "And there was a documentary on the tellie the other day wondering what aliens from outer space may look like, some day when we meet up with them. If we haven't already."
"You are an alien from outer space," Millie said to him.
Mike stood up, ceremoniously, by the table in front of his chair and laid his napkin down. "Everyone, I have an announcement to make."
People from other tables looked as well.
Mike spoke to everyone in the restaurant. "I am an alien from outer space here to sample your cuisine and court your women."
People from other tables turned back to their business without remark.
People at Lourdes' and Jim's table applauded briefly.
Mike sat back down. "And they won't tell us about the aliens for fear we'll panic."
"I always knew it," Jim said. "I just didn't think you wanted me to speak of it."
"So I speak with authority on life elsewhere," Mike continued. "But I'll mess up the secret bits on purpose so as not to violate any State secrets, Okay?"
"Okay," the table agreed.
"On the tellie, they thought alien life might be in one of two different and major categories: one being maybe insectoid, that survived predaciously, that grew smart and scraped its murderous claws through the hulls of our ships like the movie 'Aliens'; and two being maybe humanoids like us because they could be, in fact, related to us distantly somehow, a common seed spread throughout the galaxy."
"I think that's how 'Star Trek' explained why so many other species seemed to be humanoid," Ally said, "In 'The Next Generation.'"
"Because some earlier ancient species went through the galaxy seeding the place?" Mike asked.
"Yes," she said.
"That would explain it," Jim said. "They have to have a reason."
"It's probably the reason most actors are humanoid," Mike said.
Lourdes watched Jim goof off with the others. She was feeling comfortable taking a back seat in the conversation, per se, but there was something else about the evening nagging at her, something just below her awareness. It was making her uncomfortable, and she couldn't yet put her finger on it.
"Or," Brad said, "it could be that we are actually a very rare phenomenon, here on earth. We have a temperature range that permits liquid water. Earth's wild precession was stabilized by the moon and also made life possible-which only came about because of a huge collision four billio
n years ago at just the right angle with a rogue planetoid. Maybe we're one of the more significant species in the galaxy, right now, and after a paltry million years, we'll be the ones spread out all over, seeding the place with our D.N.A."
"And then we can have real Star Trek days," Jeremy said. "Only then we'll be more like the ancient ones who seeded, rather than the young explorers."
"Or we might be like the ancient aliens in '2001 A Space Odyssey,'" Mike told him. "You know, they made an advanced embryo out of Dave. 'I like working with humans.'" He laughed at himself.
"Everything's in evolution," Jim said.
"What do you think, Lourdes?" Millie asked. "What do you think aliens from outer space might look like one day?"
"I think if we can't get along with someone of a different religion here on Earth, how in the cosmos are we ever going to get along with someone of a completely alien nature from Rigel Four."
That brought a round of "Ooos" and "Aaahs" from the table.
They all looked at Lourdes, and she immediately chastised herself for attracting too much attention. Attention creates focus, creates discovery-not her habit. She wasn't comfortable with discovery.
"Which also makes me wonder," Sophie said, continuing the discussion, "of how we could interbreed with another species, because on 'Star Trek,' Spock's father was Vulcan, and his mother was human. If they're of different species, how could they make Spock?"
Lourdes didn't jump in this time.
"Different species," Jim said, "I think, is defined by the ability to produce fertile offspring, not just any offspring. Right?" he said, turning to Lourdes.
Lourdes looked shy this evening, but she tried to answer a little. "I think so."
Jim told everyone, "She's a nurse."
"Oh, how nice," they answered.
Millie picked up, "So maybe Spock is sterile?"
"No," Ally answered her. "Remember that kolinar or whatever it was? Spock feels the heat."
"Pon Farr," I think that is, her husband, Brad, told her. "And I think he could feel the heat, while still shooting blanks."
"Well," Jim said. "In those future Star Trek days, they might have done a littlie genetic fix that allowed fertile offspring."
Two servers brought food all around. One had a steak. One was vegetarian. One had fish. One had fish and chips, and four had burgers.
"Or," Jim said to the table, "they didn't need to because they really are our cousins, more of a different race than species- No, his blood is green.
"Oh, excuse me," Jim said to his server. "Is this the burger with the extra good flavor in it?"
She smiled at Jim. "Yes."
"Cooked super well?" he pressed.
"Perfectly."
"Oh, good. And hers also?" He asked of her, point to Lourdes.
"Of course! Our chef graduated Star Fleet Academy!" she kidded.
The table laughed.
"Cheers," Mike said to everyone, raising his glass of water on a happy but surprisingly serious note.
Everyone raised a glass of something and waited to hear the toast.
"To another good evening," Mike said with dignity. "You know, I've had days when it wasn't so. Yup. I make no secret of the fact I am an alcoholic. Dry eight years, now thanks to Jim."
Cheers went up from the table for both of them.
Millie looked at Mike then over to Lourdes.
"No," Jim said. "That's thanks only to you. Nobody chooses what he does but himself. It's your daily will, Mike."
"I find your strength infectious," Mike said. "So here's to everyone on this good evening. I know we all have our own cross to bear, and it's by doing this that we can one day happily marry an alien from outer space-or a Star Fleet officer."
"Here! Here!," they all said, chuckling, sipping whatever they had. Only four of them drank any wine.
"Speech!" The table clamored for Jim.
Lourdes had been shrinking away from the spotlight most of the evening. She sipped a little of her water, and watched Jim handle himself in front of the table.
Jim seemed a little embarrassed, she noted, yet stood nonetheless in a show of confidence, smiling at them all sarcastically, and offered his simple speech: "Your food is getting cold."
He sat back down.
"What a speech!"
"Bravo!"
"Smart alec."
What was that? Lourdes wondered?
Jim delicately sat his glass down and redirected the conversation back to the topic that existed before the food arrived. "Interspecies' marriage with aliens is cool and reasonable. If the heart wills it. They're adults. If consensual, it doesn't hurt anyone else, so it should exist. Not 'It should be allowed' as that is presumptive. But then I have to ask the question." Turning to Mike, Jim added with a bit of humor, "Don't fry a circuit."
Jim addressed the whole table, "Do you think you could fall in love with some alien character in one of these movies? Or a real alien here on Earth, if one existed like that?"
He asked the whole table, but he also glanced over at Lourdes as well, asking her.
Lourdes noticed his glance and shrunk back. Her mind reeled, and she didn't know why. The back of her brain started involuntarily to form answers to his question that she immediately knew she wouldn't voice, when it hit her like a shockwave.
Oh my God! No!
It couldn't be! She panicked, staring at him.
He couldn't be.
She looked at him for sign. His hands: muscular, but the bone structure underneath-Shoulders: maybe a little more narrow than she'd noticed before. Strong neck. Brow ridge: exists but slight. Hair: slight pattern baldness, not definitive. Whiskers: real, but not as full as they could be. Buttocks: maybe larger than she'd have thought.
Nothing specific, but the overall gestalt-
She looked at his front-maybe even staring longer than she should have, looking for any trace-
Expletives raced through her mind.
Run! was her first reaction. That was the way she'd adapted to handling potential humiliation in society. Run. But where could she go? She could cab back to the field, get in the plane-leave the tent-and fly away before she'd have to face any of them.
Don't be ridiculous, she chastised herself. That would cause questions. She had no car. She'd be leaving a dinner to walk? To take a cab?
Did the others know about him?
She quickly but surreptitiously looked at everyone seated at the table. There was no sign of it if they did.
Did they know about her? She looked at them all again, and again, there was no sign.
Too many questions.
Stay for now. Slow. Easy. Get out of this as soon as able, but don't raise suspicion.
Lourdes' social skills were not impeccable, but from countless humiliating events in her life, she had practiced a few things had helped her in the past.
Can anyone tell how alarmed I am?
Would she give herself away?
Only someone very attentive would notice. Her mouth and eyes opened only slightly- She felt her face beginning to warm into a blush, so she lowered her face a little, adjusting the napkin in her lap. Her heart pounded. She couldn't stop that. But her breath wanted to race as well, and that she did control.
Other people at the table carried on as before with their jovial interchange over dinner, scraped forks against plates, drank out of glasses.
Lourdes was quiet.
Jim looked at her.
Staring at him, she-ever so slightly-withdrew.
The look of alarm in his face told everything.
She quit staring at him and looked back down at her napkin again.
"Lourdes, honey? Are you alright?" Millie asked quietly.
Aaiieee! Lourdes caught herself withdrawing too much. "I'm fine," she tried to say calmly. "Sorry. I guess I'm still a little green from the flight today."
"True, I over did it. Had her praying to the grass about noon." Jim gave Millie a confident smile.
"Y
ou can't woo her that way, Jim! Here, let me show you how!" Mike jumped half out of his seat as if to act on his feigned romantic bravado.
"Park it, Bucko," Millie said playfully.
"You took her flying and got her sick?" Ally asked.
"Sounds just like my Arnie," Sophie said fondly. "He got me sick on a roller coaster when we met."
"Are you going to be okay?" Millie asked Lourdes.
Lourdes was fearful of the attention. "I'm fine." Please don't look at me. "I just want to sit. It'll pass."
Millie gave Lourdes a concerned look but went back to her conversation with the others at the table.
Jim looked at Lourdes.
Lourdes looked at Jim so sternly that he looked away from her.
His hands- On the edge of the table.
He looked at her and moved his hands to his lap, under the table.
"My dear, you're as red as a beet," Ally said.
Lourdes put her hands to her face and excused herself. "I'm sorry. I'll be right back."
CHAPTER 16
The morning sun was so low over Runway Three Six, it illuminated the underside of her wing and the bottom half of her tent.
"You're one of them!" Lourdes scolded, crawling out the door flap of her tent.
Jim stood by her plane. "One of what?" he asked, stepping forward.
Lourdes jumped back to keep away from him and hit her head on the edge of her wing strut.
"Aiieee!" she screamed, as much to him as from the impact.
"You okay?" he asked.
A small trickle of blood began forming on Lourdes' head, just above her hairline.
"Keep away from me!" she ordered. She held her hand on the small wound, thinking the pressure could help stop the bleeding.
"You need some help-"
"Not by you!" she told him.
She stepped over her left main gear and opened her cockpit door, rummaging around inside for her first aid kit.
"I don't know what you're so mad at me about!" he said.
"Yes you do!"
She found her kit and set out some polysporin and a bandage but continued for the time being to keep pressure on her scalp with her right hand. She pulled her hand away periodically to check and see if it was still bleeding.
"Classic 'Cessna Forehead,'" Jim said.
Her look to him was caustic. "I didn't do it on my own."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
"You don't scare me; you disgust me."
The look on his face made his pain clear, and she was sorry. She didn't want to hurt him. Neither, she admitted to herself, did she feel she needed to abandon her beliefs just because she'd been attracted to him.
