Chapter 79

 

Cara

 

 

Checking on the progress at the Seven Tree Circle house, Cara spotted Louise striding up the road in blue striped pants, a white sun hat, and heavy hiking boots, with her bag slung over her shoulder. Ned was at the Institute with the car, she explained, and she had decided to take a nice walk, but it certainly was getting warm, wasn't it. She accepted, with some relief, Cara's invitation of a seat in the car, a quick inspection of the old house, and the promise of a glass of iced tea at Cara and Jared's place.

In Cara's former house, they found Evvie sitting in a shabby rocking chair in the hall with a reader, keeping an eye on the work party through the open door of the back bedroom. Wayne sat in the middle of the floor on a pile of foamboards, supervising as Numum and James and George patched the holes in the plaster by hand. The new flooring, where the section soaked with old blood had been removed, looked raw and much too bright; they would, Wayne assured her, stain it to match the rest of the floor. By the time they were finished, no one would ever know what had happened.

Louise eyed the notch in the wall where Dr. Lindstrom had thrown the shard of glass and it had stuck. It was good, at least, not to have to refer to that woman as "mother", Cara reflected, looking at the long scrape in the paint by the bed. Darla had served Dr. Lindstrom chicken salad without tomatoes; Dr. Lindstrom had broken the plate against the edge of the table and swiped at her with the larger fragment, and, fortunately, got the wall instead.

Looking up, Cara saw Numum filling one of the depressions in the ceiling. Numum looked so competent, and so happy to be doing something; he glanced at her and positively beamed, and Evvie was beaming, too. So that was good, and it was good to get out of that house again and to be headed home, with Louise chatting about the weather and the excellent produce they had found at the farmers market and how well her hiking boots worked now that they were broken in.

The neighborhood was quiet. Mimi was very likely asleep, which was how she had spent most of the time since Monday night, but the good thing was that when she was awake she was Mimi again. Clyde was probably in the arm chair beside the bed, reading and watching her. The Bahtan house was quiet; Cara thought that Clena and Wundra and Mutai and Ollie were all off running errands. She knew that Sofi and Gina had gone shopping again. Sofi said it was very important that Gina have the right wardrobe for this first year in Secondary. And Phyllis had hauled Terry downtown to shop for clothes, too; the D'ubians weren't certain what was appropriate for their Earthian progeny. He was not anywhere near as interested as his sister was. He thought it was a waste of time.

And Lillian and Al were probably in Lillian's room, and Issio was in his basement arranging the study, desks and files as the room upstairs filled with baby furniture. Ann was either in the Hardesty house making plans for Lillian's wedding, or in her own house making plans about paint and furniture arrangement.

The only person in sight was Willis, with his head buried under the hood of a small car that had been his first car, put in storage when he went to the Academy. He had bought another car there, but he had sold it rather than pay shipping to Linden's World. So he was left with the little runabout, which Jared had said Willis and Al and Lillian had somewhat modified.

And now he was getting it in running order again. He had been borrowing Al's car or Lillian's to make the rounds of local repair shops. He was low on experience, but he had recommendations from the shop teachers at the Secondary, and he had a good attitude, Cara thought, and she fully expected him to land something any day now.

He waved at Cara and Louise. "Very clever with mechanics," Louise told Cara, waving back at him. "Excellent young man. That's Gina's brother, am I right? And the young musician, Terry."

"The oldest one; he was at the Academy." It was pleasantly cool inside the house; Cara got out the iced tea and Louise, with a murmur of appreciation, took off her sun hat and set down her purse and unlaced her hiking boots.

"Have you heard anything from Saizy?" she inquired. "You did send her an announcement after you and Jared were married?"

"Oh, yes, but I haven't heard anything yet."

"She probably hasn't checked her mail for months. If Ned and I get a chance we should run by and visit her. Some spare weekend. I don't know how it is, but we seem to have been busy since we got here. One thing after another."

And that was entirely true, Cara thought; one thing after another. Dr. Ned had planned to attend the meeting Tuesday in Tuania; he and Louise had called to cancel first thing Monday. They had much too much going on right here. "Are you having any luck with the committee?" she asked.

"I don't expect to have any luck for the next week," sighed Louise. "As important as this is, you'd think – but then, none of us expected this." She sipped her tea and contemplated the holo from the reception, Cara and Jared laughing over the wedding cake just before they cut it and set off the exploding candles. Cara had propped it up on the breakfast bar because she loved the way Jared's face lighted when he laughed. "I imagine," said Louise, "we all believed this matter of the glyphs would just drift on and on, and there was no point in sitting around waiting for new developments." She tipped the holo to the side; it was just possible to see Maud, on Cara's side, talking with someone to her left; Cara thought it had been Lalia.

"Remarkable," said Louise, and the doorbell rang. It was the neighborhood habit to ring once before entering, so Cara gave it a moment, but no one came in. Not a neighbor; she got up to answer and the doorbell rang again, imperatively, as she crossed the floor.

She opened the door to find a large woman on the porch.

The woman was, in fact, very large; she was nearly as tall as Jared and she was probably twice or three times as wide. She had short frizzy hair and small eyes sunk in rolls of fat. She wore a sleeveless T-shirt, tight, not at all a good choice; it stretched over her meaty shoulders and her heavy breasts and her ballooning stomach and molded itself to the bulges all the way down to her hips. Huge biceps swelled through the armholes, and massive thighs threatened to burst out of stretch pants. She wore dangling earrings, small white fluffy dogs on delicate gold chain leashes, and she had a pin in the shape of a white poodle fastened just over her heart.

She glared down at Cara and folded her heavy arms. "You," she roared, in a voice as massive as her body, "are harboring that filthy pervert Fabian Patterson!"

Had she sat down on Patterson she would have pulverized him, Cara thought, looking at that immense expanse of hip and thigh. But for all her size and all her anger, she had never, Cara reflected, chased a foul-mouthed fly around her house. She had never kicked a nuntulpo, foaming orange poison, into a butterfly net. She had never pursued a stoad through her kitchen and her living room with a spatula. All she had done was insult and terrorize poor Patterson, who was smart and capable, if a little eccentric, and had certainly done no harm to anyone, including poodles. This woman, Cara realized, was nothing but a bully.

Cara folded her own arms, leaned her shoulder against the door frame, and said, "I am most certainly not harboring any filthy perverts."

"This is Dr. Ramirez' house, isn't it?" thundered Ione Patterson.

"It is. I," said Cara, "am Mrs. Ramirez."

"Well, your husband is Fabian Patterson's boss. And you and your husband are harboring him here!"

Over Ione Patterson's shoulder she saw the picnic table, lately abandoned, and she saw a shape forming in the air; Chazaerte was standing there, holding his pendant, eyeing her gigantic visitor.

"We aren't harboring anyone. And if we were," said Cara, "exactly how is this your business?"

"He's a sex pervert!" shouted Ione Patterson, and Chazaerte made a small movement toward the porch; Cara caught his eye and he stopped. "He's a molester! He should be thrown down the chute like the rest of the garbage! Along with all his nasty twisted deviant friends, like you and your husband!"

"Get off my porch," said Cara, looking her right in the eye, even if she had to tilt her head up to do it.

"You get that creep out here where I can see him," said Ione Patterson. "He owes me credits! He got my brother thrown in jail! We expect him to pay my brother's bail!"

Cara felt a blaze of real anger. "Well, that takes nerve," she said, "demanding that poor Patterson bail out a man who tried to kill him. He might have killed my husband, too, are you aware of that? My husband was driving the car. Your brother belongs right where he is, being evaluated in jail, and I hope they end up wiping his mind, and if you don't get off my porch this minute I'll have you hauled off to share a cell with him."

"You and what army, Missy?" roared Ione Patterson.

"That," said Issio, coming off his porch and starting across the lawn, "would be me."

"Me, too," said Willis, coming down the road with only a small limp.

"No," said Chazaerte, coming up on the porch behind Ione Patterson, "this is my sister and this is my sister's porch and I get to do it." He put his hands on his hips and glared into Ione Patterson's fat face. He was not quite as tall as she was, and about a third of her weight.

But Ione Patterson behaved like any other bully faced with opposition. She looked at Chazaerte; she looked at Willis, cutting across the street toward her. She turned to look at Issio, who had reached the end of the porch and had a hand on the railing. And she looked again at Cara, who was still leaning with folded arms against the door frame, and her fat face crumpled and she burst into tears and fled across the porch, which creaked under her, and down the steps, and into the car she had left parked at the curb, and she started the car and set it in motion so rapidly that it rose nearly a meter and a half above the surface of the street. She made the corner by the D'ubian house and vanished from sight.

Across the street, Cara saw Ann at the front door of the little house, staring down the street after Ione Patterson. Cara looked at Chazaerte, and Willis coming up the steps, and Issio, who had vaulted over the railing at the end. "I think we have wine," she said, "and I know we have some beer in the keeper. Come on in."

 

She called Jared, just in case Ione Patterson was headed toward the Institute. "Oh, hell," he said, and burst into laughter.

"It's not funny," Cara told him, "being nasty twisted deviants harboring filthy perverted poodle molesters who won't pay bail for people who try to kill them. How you can laugh about it?"

"Oh, easily," said Jared, in a choked voice.

"We really should call the police," said Louise, scrolling her phone. "She did make threats," she pointed out. "Throwing you down the garbage chute, I think she said."

"Harassing you," said Willis. "It should be on record, in case she makes a habit of this."

"She won't dare," said Cara, looking with amusement at her little army, gathered about the breakfast bar with their beer bottles; even Louise had decided the occasion called for something stronger than iced tea.

"Next time," said Willis, "I might not be here. I got a job today."

"No! That's wonderful; where?" asked Cara.

"That place just east of the University, on the corner. I know one of the guys who works there; he was a year ahead of me at school. Says the boss isn't bad. I'm probationary, sort of, for the next couple of weeks, but if it works out I'll be making pretty good credits. I start Saturday." He ducked his head and smiled as Issio slapped his back and Cara congratulated him; he looked nearly as happy, she thought, as he had in that holo Jared had, wearing his brand new uniform.

"I'm glad, of course," said Chazaerte, sounding uncomfortable, "but really, I wish you'd think about –"

"Go jump," said Willis, but without heat. "I can take care of myself. And Gina and Terry," he added, with a half glance at Issio.

"Gina is ours," said Issio. "We share her with you others, but she is ours; this is not a matter upon which I will argue, even with you." He patted Willis on the shoulder again, and Willis laughed and shook his head. Chazaerte sighed and lifted his beer bottle.

A car door slammed in front, and before Louise could do more than look out the window, Jared was inside. "Hello, fellow deviants and perverts," he greeted them, grinning, and came to the breakfast bar and put both arms around Cara and held her.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Of course I am," said Cara, but it still felt wonderful to have his arms around her. "She's nothing but a big bully; Issio and Willis and Chazaerte scared her off."

"I met her," he reminded her. "She's big, all right, and she's a bully, and she's crazy. No predicting her. Did you call the police?"

"No," said Cara, "She was frightened to death and that's enough. She won't bother us again."

But she was still glad to have him here, too glad to tease him about his protective instincts and the caveman gene.

"Did you tell Patterson?" she asked him.

"Enough to make sure he stays in the conference room," said Jared, "with the door locked, and Weston and Ott to protect him. Since they took away his grenades." He sat down on a stool at the end of the breakfast bar and Louise passed him a glass of iced tea, already knowing his tastes well enough to guess it would be more welcome than the beer.

"Guess what," Cara said, "Willis has a job."

"Starts Saturday," said Willis, happy to do a little modest bragging, and as he began to describe it to Jared, Ann rang the doorbell and popped her head in and looked, without favor, at Chazaerte and his beer bottle.

"Oh, you're still here," she said coldly and turned her head away from him. "Was that really poor Patterson's wife at your door?" she asked Cara. "Did I hear her say she expected him to bail out her brother?"

"Yes, isn't that amazing?" said Cara.

"Totally insane," said Ann, and she took a glass of the iced tea and put down her noter, where she had been writing down measurements and recording and comparing prices on paint and rugs and curtains. Cara had wondered if Ann would grow depressed and begin once more to think of her absent mother now that the reception was over, with Lillian and Al's wedding weeks away; she was glad to see Ann had a new project to occupy her.

"How is the mouse?" Issio asked her.

"Very loud," said Ann. "There's a kind of tool closet off the utility room down in the basement; when I move in I'm going to lock her up there at night. With all the doors closed you can hardly hear anything."

"When are you moving in?" Cara asked her.

"Next week. So I'll be settled before classes start. Can you believe we're less than a month away from fall semester? This summer has just flown past."

"It's been busy," said Cara. She watched, amused, as Ann settled herself on the couch where she didn't have to look at Chazaerte. He seemed a little puzzled at her attitude, but he had the sense, for once, to keep his mouth shut.

Outside a car door slammed and voices rose. "Colors!" exclaimed Zarei. "She is young! She needs colors!"

"She needs clothes like those worn by her classmates!" shouted Sofi. "She does not need to appear in skirts out of style for forty years!"

"This skirt I purchased not six months ago!"

"This skirt was purchased at a second-hand clothing store," snarled Sofi, "from the estate of a woman in her eighties, dead ten years, who wore it for her fifteenth birthday!"

"And Gina is thirteen!" said Zarei. "And the bracelets –"

"Gypsies!" said Sofi. "Circus performers! Carnival workers!"

"Very fine gold," said Zarei, "and also gemstones!"

"Strip tease dancers!" shouted Sofi. "It is bad enough that my mother wears such things! I will not have my daughter appear also in this fashion!"

Gina gave the doorbell a quick jangle and slipped inside and shut the door after her, fast. "We met Zarei at the mall," she said. "She came shopping with us."

"I am sorry to hear that," said Issio sympathetically, making room for her on the couch. He twitched his tail at Jared, who was laughing quietly. Outside car doors slammed a few more times and Sofi's voice receded as she moved into her house with Zarei following. The conversation was, Cara judged, by no means over. "Perhaps you and Our Ann can go shopping," suggested Issio, and Ann, on the other side of Gina, nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, anytime," she said. "It would be fun."

"I'd better get back to work," Jared said, putting his glass down by the sink "I just wanted to make sure everyone was all right." By "everyone", Cara knew, he mostly meant her; she loved that.

"Are you recording those glyphs?" asked Louise.

"Patterson and Ott and Weston are. And Carter is there advising. I'm looking over the translations we have. It's the old language, Carter says, the one used at the beginning. When your people arrived," he said to Chazaerte.

"No one speaks it now," said Chazaerte. "Some people know it, some of the older generation, like Carter and Thomas and I think Antonia does. Thomas and Antonia aren't part of our group," he said to Jared's raised eyebrows. "They're not here. You probably won't meet them."

"But they're your people too?"

"Oh," said Chazaerte, waving them away, "yes, but they have their own places, you know. They aren't attached to Haivran. We're the ones attached here."

"Other worlds?" Jared was pushing, gently, for information, Cara saw.

"Yes," said Chazaerte, sounding very uncomfortable. "But this old language, it isn't spoken on those worlds either, anywhere I know, in fact. It's a dead language."

"But it came from where you came from," said Jared. "Your ancestors. The language is the key to your culture; the culture is the key to your people, how you think, how you act, even now."

"I think we act like you do," said Chazaerte, looking surprised when the whole roomful of people laughed. "We don't?"

"Not all of you, not exactly," said Jared, grinning, and he kissed Cara quickly and winked at Gina and went out the door whistling.

"Sluts!" shouted Sofi by an open window in her house.

"But Sofi!" wailed Zarei.

"You are too young for beer, however much you may need it," Issio told Gina firmly, and Cara passed a glass of iced tea to Willis, who handed it to Louise, who gave it to Issio, who put it in Gina's hand, and she giggled and drank.