Ross let her secure the scarf without his help. He was well aware of the H’kaah attitude about touching one’s ears and tail, and he didn’t want to begin their relationship by being an insensitive clod. Once she was ready he showed her how to buckle her seat belt, then he cranked the sports car’s powerful, high-strung V-8 engine.
S’leen screamed!
True to her rabbit heritage she really belted out the decibels. Ross was caught so completely off-guard he thought she must be reacting to some kind of deadly assault. In one quick motion he flipped the ignition switch off, punched the release on his seat belt and managed to make a full 360-degree visual sweep of the area before the engine quit rumbling.
His visual sweep, however, was made combat-style, peering over the sights of a nasty-looking .45 caliber Colt semiautomatic pistol he had retrieved from a hidden waistband holster.
But there was no assault, no monster, no threat. Nothing.
During that amazing high-energy squall S’leen had tried to jump out of the sports car, but her seat belt held her in place the necessary critical seconds needed for Ross to check for danger and then turn his attention directly to her. What he found was a heavily trembling, terrified ball of fur scantily clad in satin clothing, but he could find nothing at all trying to eat her.
“WHAT! What? S’leen, what’s wrong?” He ignored the fact that she wasn’t a human woman, and after quickly securing the pistol he reached across to hold her protectively. Years of marriage and raising children had instilled in him a reflexive response to comfort females in distress; his instinct told him this female, strange though she was, certainly qualified for serious comforting. “Honey, you’ve got to talk to me. I don’t see anything wrong.”
She, in turn, had latched onto Ross; apparently H’kaah reflexive responses were similar to humankind’s. After a few moments in which no further threat manifested itself she got herself enough under control to release Ross, who found himself reluctant to so quickly relinquish his hold of such an incredibly sexy creature. Still, they were in a public place and he didn’t want to risk making a scene. He compromised by keeping hold of her velvety hands, which were still shaking badly.
She got her breathing enough under control to more-or-less speak, and what she said blindsided Ross almost as badly as her scream had. “F-forgive me, J-Jack. I t-though a t-terrible, raging b-beast had c-caught us. I…I panicked.” She pulled her hands from his grasp and held them over her face, bowing her head in shame.
And she cried.
Terrible, raging beast? Ross thought, confused. All I did was start— Oh, right!
In the most non-threatening voice he could summon, Ross carefully asked, “S’leen, when Teddy Shapiro brought you here, what kind of vehicle did you ride in?”
She added confusion to her embarrassment but eventually replied around hiccupping, sniffling sobs, “T-the only vehicle I h-have ever ridden in, other t-than the big electric-powered c-coaches and t-trains on my homeworld, is the coach-size s-ship that brought me to your w-world. We landed o-over there,” she pointed a trembling claw-tipped finger to the distant corner of the small parking lot and the white, minibus sized spaceship sitting there. “In the f-five days I have b-been here I have not l-left the building.”
“Then you’ve never ridden in one of our automobiles?” She shook her head no. “Oh—shit.” His vulgarity caught her so by surprise she jumped as if he’d goosed her, then she looked at him with even more misery in her tear-swollen eyes. “Dear, I am sorry!” he stated, fishing his handkerchief from his right hip pocket and carefully wiping at the dark, wet tracks in the fur under her eyes. “I had no idea you weren’t familiar with our ‘personal ground transportation devices’; we call them cars. The engine that powers this vehicle operates by rapidly-repeating internal combustion pulses; that’s what made the roaring sound you heard. Most modern cars are much quieter and smoother than this antique model, but many of us humans also find such modern, sophisticated machines terribly boring. This one was built before I was born, and part of its attraction to me is the raw power it exudes as well as the level of skill it demands to properly operate it. Contrary to what you might have thought it is not alive, not in the sense that you and I are alive.”
“I…I am so ashamed, Jack,” she said in a small, meek voice. “You must think I am a fool to be so frightened.”
“Absolutely not!” he responded, embarrassed because his thoughtlessness had terrified this delightful creature. “S’leen, I am the fool for so quickly forgetting that all this is new and…and alien to you. I don’t know what else to do but beg you to forgive me.”
He was reminded of just how alien she was when she suddenly stared wide-eyed at him, and he realized with a start that, despite all his military experience dealing with foreign nationals, he couldn’t read this foreigner’s expression. Then she surprised him by stiffly stating, “A patron does not beg forgiveness from his companion; it is not proper. My ignorance—”
“Your ignorance in this matter is MY fault,” he interrupted with a razor’s edge to his voice, “because YOU, S’leen, are now MY responsibility. This world has countless things guaranteed to frighten an unsuspecting visitor.” His voice lost its sharpness as he said, “Here, take this handkerchief and blow your nose. I just have to remember that part of my job is to keep those things from scaring you to death.”
**WHOOONK!**
“And let’s get one thing straight, young lady:” he added, the edge back in his voice with a vengeance, “I’ll beg your forgiveness any damned time I please. If you can’t handle that then maybe we both made a mistake by signing that contract.” That shocked her so much she jerked like she’d been slapped, then she opened her mouth but no sounds came out. After a few seconds Ross gently stated, “But just between you and me, I don’t think either of us would be that foolish. Do you?”
Several moments passed and then S’leen shakily held her right hand out to Ross; he enfolded its silky-softness into the solid comfort of his larger hand’s leathery embrace.
“No,” was all she said.
Chapter 2
*Where’s the Beef?*
Jack Ross brushed his lips across the velvety tops of the H’kaah’s fingers before releasing them, then said, “Let’s go home.”
“Yes, please. I will try not to panic again,” she said, but when she saw him frown she hastily added, “but if that happens I believe you will know how to…to handle it.”
“Yeesh,” he muttered in frustration, then cranked the old Corvette again, this time without a repeat of S’leen’s earlier hysterics. The engine rumbled and snarled impatiently at a fast idle as it warmed to operating temperature, and he refastened his seat belt and checked to make sure S’leen was secure.
“This vehicle requires constant physical input from the person operating it,” he explained over the mechanical din. “We have a ride of about fifteen minutes to reach my—our—home, and during that time we will be traveling in close proximity to many other personal and commercial vehicles.
It may look like they’re about to collide with us, or us with them, but that seldom happens so just try to enjoy the scenery. You’ll no doubt attract the attention of humans in the other vehicles; don’t let their stares and gestures frighten you. Most of them have only seen H’kaah in photos or television news programs, so attracting attention is something you’re going to have to get used to.” He grinned. “It’ll probably be a long time before the novelty of having people from other worlds here on Earth wears off.”
A few moments later the car’s powerful engine reached minimum operating temperature and settled down to a slightly less raucous idle. Ross blipped the throttle a few times to make sure it wouldn’t stall, then he slowly backed out of the parking slot and headed for the street. He tried to keep one eye on S’leen to make sure she didn’t try to jump out of the car, but she appeared much more relaxed and seemed to be taking everything in stride. After he pulled out into traffic he had to pay more attention to
his driving, and he prayed she wouldn’t freak out again.
As he had hoped, the silk scarf was enough to keep her long ears from flapping in the buffeting wind that swirled and tumbled over the short windshield, and true to his warning S’leen quickly began attracting the attention of drivers and their passengers alike. Children plastered their faces against car and minivan windows as they caught sight of the H’kaah, and many of them frantically waved at her.
“You’re a hit with the kids,” he said, laughing. “Most of the adults are too busy driving to really stare. Go ahead and wave at the kids if you want to; just be sure to keep your arms, hands and head inside the car.” She shyly returned some of the children’s energetic waves, a courtesy that seemed to delight the parents as much as their offspring.
Occasionally a driver would crowd the Corvette in an attempt to get a better look at its exotic passenger. When that would happen Ross momentarily stretched the old sports car’s powerful “legs”, leaving the reckless drivers far behind.
“Can all cars move so rapidly?” S’leen shouted to be heard over the convertible’s noisy environment.
“No, and that’s one of the reasons I like this old dog; goose her and she really jumps!”
Semantics immediately reared its often-confusing head and S’leen said, “Dog? She? But you said this was a…a machine—that it was NOT alive!” Once again his passenger began to look panicky.
“Oh God, S’leen, I’m sorry!” he replied hastily. “Listen, we humans frequently refer to some of our machines in living terms. Many machines, especially cars, can be terribly annoying and demanding so we, uh, have a habit of referring to them as, uh, females.” He grinned again, this time embarrassed. “We even go so far as to jokingly claim they have personalities and independent life, but they’re still only machines and, believe me, they’re not alive. I’ve had this old car for so many years she’s literally become a family member.” Ross was relieved to see the light of understanding in his passenger’s amber-colored eyes as she finally appeared to understand. Yet for the rest of the ride home he caught glimpses of her stroking parts of the car’s interior as one would a living creature.
* * *
True to his estimate they turned into his driveway a short quarter-hour after leaving the Patrons parking lot. When Ross had told the roomful of H’kaah females that he had a “comfortable” home in the city, he didn’t really give them much information. His “comfortable” home was, in reality, a small, post-World War I estate in an older section of town that encompassed part of a coastal barrier island. Originally built nearly a hundred years prior, it was surrounded by a six-foot-high concrete wall with an ornate and heavy electric gate at the head of the driveway. Set well back from the wall was the main house and a small-but-comfortable guesthouse, a large four-car garage with a well-equipped workshop in the back and a large in-ground swimming pool. Behind the garage was a windowless building nearly two stories tall that had two enormous doors on its front. The estate’s landscaped grounds covered six full acres, complete with sprawling old oak trees, well-developed arbors and hedgerows, flower-lined pathways, a clay-surfaced tennis court and an immaculate putting green. A concrete-paved circular driveway ran from the front gate to pass in front of the main house, with a leg branching off to the garage area.
“You must be very wealthy and important to live in such a palace,” S’leen said in awe as her gaze took in the rambling two-story house. “None of the homes I saw on our way here were anything like this.”
“Sad to say, Dear, I am neither very wealthy nor very important. What I am is very lucky.” Ross laughed. “Many years ago I collected some financial assets from a business deal, and before I could reinvest them I learned that the owner of this old estate had died. He left no family and no will; what he did leave was lot of outstanding bills with no money to pay them. He also left a small local bank holding the title to this place, and there were property taxes past due on it, too.” S’leen was well educated in economics and perfectly understood the situation.
“What follows is the classic story of doing everything right. I was in the right place at the right time,” he said, laughing again, “and I had enough money to make the right people happy.” As he talked he helped her out of the car and, taking her bags from the car’s trunk, he led her up the short flight of steps leading to the full-width open front porch. He flipped aside an ornate cover to display a keypad, punched in a quick five-digit code to disarm the security system, then punched a three-digit code into the door lock’s miniature keypad to unlock the large solid wood door. After pushing the latch lever down he nudged the door open.
Jack Ross had brought his new companion home.
As S’leen entered the old home’s entrance foyer Ross finished the story of how he lucked into possession of the estate. “The former owner had secured a small home equity loan to help pay outstanding medical bills, but then he died before satisfying both the lien and his other obligations. A number of creditors, including the county tax collector, quickly lined up at the bank and demanded it sell the property so they could be paid. The bank was faced with the unhappy prospect of hurriedly marketing a run-down old piece of property in an equally run-down section of town. That’s when I entered the picture with an offer to settle all the bills, catch up the back taxes and penalties and pay off the bank lien. In exchange for clear title to this place I demanded a ten-year property tax moratorium and a highly-reduced future tax rate on it as long as it isn’t sold.” He grinned at her, adding, “Since we’re here, I think you know who won the battle.”
During this time he left her two bags by the foot of the stairs while slowly escorting the wide-eyed alien through the spacious ground-floor rooms. “For about one-tenth of the property’s value at the time—and this was nearly twenty years ago—I settled with everyone, got the tax concessions I wanted and acquired something now valued at over fifty times my initial investment.” He showed his awestruck companion the kitchen area with its combination of modern appliances mixed with refurbished antiques. “I put many years of hard work and a fair amount of money into rebuilding, and when necessary, modernizing everything you see, and during that time this part of town underwent a similar rebirth, making this once-tired old neighborhood a rather nice place to live. All in all, I think the work I did here was worth it.”
S’leen had never been in such a house; on her homeworld private houses usually were small, single-story patio homes. They seldom had more than one floor because the ceilings had to be high enough to allow a ceiling fan to comfortably clear a male H’kaah’s ear tips. Ross’ house, built before air conditioning was widely available, had very high ceilings and large windows, as well as high-mounted ceiling fans in nearly every room.
Since the H’kaah didn’t have much along the lines of personal transportation they tended to cluster their houses to make mass transportation feasible. Humankind’s widespread use of the automobile allowed it the option to sprawl; the massive scale of mankind’s major developments and subdivisions, especially in North America, amazed many of the alien species, H’kaah included.
“Let’s get you settled in; we can tour the guesthouse and everything else later.” Ross grabbed her bags and led her upstairs where the four bedrooms and two more bathrooms were located. Human-style stairs gave her trouble; her nonhuman feet didn’t properly fit the short treads. As she stumbled up the stairs Ross told her, “I had problems with the stairs at first. The house’s builder must have had very small feet; even now, if I’m not careful some of my shoes trip me or slip off the edges of the treads.”
Once upstairs she began poking her head in every room, looking in every closet. Ross just laughed at her, commenting, “You sure you’re not part cat? You’re certainly curious enough to be mistaken for one!” Not having felines on her homeworld, S’leen didn’t really understand the reference.
“This will be your room,” he said, leading her into one decorated in light pastel shades and delicate fabrics. “This r
oom was my daughter’s, and after she left home I kept it pretty much the way she liked it. Nowadays when she brings her husband and my granddaughters for one of her infrequent visits I simplify matters by putting everyone in the guesthouse.” S’leen had begun examining the translucent lace curtains, and when she transferred her attention to the ornate four-poster bed she suddenly realized that there were stuffed animals literally everywhere in the room—perched on the dresser, hiding in corners, sitting on the bed and even on the fluffy pillows. While they varied widely in size, form and pose, the majority represented a single species, and what they signified almost shocked the H’kaah speechless.
But not entirely. “These…these “stuffed animals” belong to your daughter?” Ross assured her they did. “But most of them look like—”
“They’re rabbits, S’leen. Remember what I told you; human children love rabbits. When we grow into adults we still have a deep-seated love of rabbits. Now do you understand our reaction to your people? We’ve been fond of rabbits all our lives, and I’ll wager that the program Patrons has begun will be successful beyond everyone’s wildest expectations.” He moved slightly closer to her, careful not to make her feel threatened. “You see,” he gently explained, “your people really ARE welcome here, and unless something terrible happens that nobody’s foreseen the H’kaah will be welcome here for many years to come.”
Discounting her ears S’leen was about half a head shorter than Ross’ six-foot-even, and she didn’t have to tilt her head back very far to look directly into his eyes. “Thank you, Jack Ross. And I thank humankind for giving life to a dream my people never truly had until we were contacted. Long years ago we theorized there were other worlds with other kinds of people on them, but without space travel we had no way of knowing. Then your people showed up, and after we got over our initial terror at meeting people different from ourselves you humans proved to us that our nightmares of horrible invaders from the stars were just that, only nightmares.” She stepped closer and warmly hugged him, which of course forced him to respond in kind.
Redeeming Factors (Revised) Page 5
