Bree is my next-door neighbor. Walking home, I thought about what I heard while eavesdropping. “Bree, what is a cowboy?”
“It’s a man or a boy that takes care of cows.”
I sighed in relief. “It’s not a boy with horns?”
“Nope.”
Bree was used to my strange questions, so I asked another. “Do you know a that cowboy song, ‘Home on the Range’?”
“Yes, we learned it in second grade choir. You want me to sing it?”
I nodded.
Oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam,
Where the deer and the antelope play.
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,
And the skies are not cloudy all day.
How often at night where the heavens are bright
With the light of the glittering stars,
Have I stood there amazed and asked as I gazed
If their glory exceeds that of ours?
Home, home on the range,
Where the deer and the antelope play,
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,
And the skies are not cloudy all day.
That Bree, she sings as sweetly as Bix crooners, the royal birds. When she sings, it makes the sun come out and shine inside me. And I liked that cowboy song because it has a good part about the stars, and I am from the stars.
At home, Bree came over to work on homework. We found my parents in the greenhouse. Dad was dressed just in t-shirt, shorts and sandals. He knelt on the dirt beside the greenhouse wall and dug in the ground with a small shovel. Mom stood over him with her hands on her hips.
They looked up when I asked, “Can I get an anteater for a pet?”
“Where do you get one?” Mom’s blue-grey eyes flashed. “We need an anteater in here.”
Bree said, “Anteaters don’t live around here, except in a zoo.”
Dad stood and held out his shovelful of dirt. “Look. Ants and ants and ants.” He carried it outside and dumped it. “Why won’t the ants stay outside the greenhouse?”
“You probably can’t keep them out,” Bree said.
“Ouch!” Dad cried. “An ant just bit me!” And he dropped the shovel. Right on his big toe.
“Ouch!” he cried again. He jumped and danced around. He bent over and wiped his hands over his feet and legs to make sure the ants were all gone.
That’s my dad. On Bix, he is a famous astro-physicist, but he can’t hold on to a shovel.
When he calmed down, I told Mom and Dad about Mary Lee getting bit by a spider. Mom shook her head, “It sounds like a bad day for bugs.”
“It was a bad day for aliens, too,” I said. “Mrs. Lynx has a smart phone app that can find aliens.” I explained about the S.A.C. and the Alien Catcher App that played the “Home on the Range” song. Bree sang it for them.
Mom frowned. “We must be very careful.”
But Dad got a faraway look on his face. “Leave the Alien Catcher App to me. I can take care of it.”
Fantastic. That was one thing I didn’t have to worry about.
Bree reached up to a shelf and tilted a clay pot so she could look at the dirt inside. “What are you growing here, Mrs. Smith?”
“Veggies,” Mom said. On Bix, she studied Bix plants; here on Earth, she is studying Earth plants.
“Oh,” Bree said. “Bix vegetables.”
“Yes,” Mom said.
Bree looked at me. “Will I like them?”
“Some.” But I was remembering how Bree hated grawlies, which are sort of like black French fries. They are my favorite Bix food. In fact, I wished the replicator still worked. I would make some grawlies right now.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the greenhouse door. Who would walk into the backyard to find the greenhouse?
In the doorway stood a policeman. Mom and Dad froze in place. And then Mom shoved Bree and me behind her.
Was the policeman coming to arrest us?
Had Mrs. Lynx figured out that we are the aliens?
“Mr. and Mrs. Smith, I hope you don’t mind me coming by. I rang the doorbell, and no one answered. Mary Lee told me about your greenhouse, so I thought I’d look back here.”
“Ah, Chief Glendale.” Dad stepped forward and stuck out his hand. “Good to see you.”
I breathed. It was just Mary Lee’s dad.
“I just want to make sure you understand that the F.O.P. parade is a fund raiser,” Chief Glendale said.
“Oh, yes,” Mom said.
Dad nodded. “We’ll raise loads of funds.”
Of course, they didn’t know what they were talking about. What on Earth did they know? They were aliens.
Chief Glendale pulled at his mustache. “Great. I’m glad we got that cleared up.” He reached up and tilted a clay pot so he could see the dirt inside, just like Bree. “What are you growing here?”
“Veggies.” Bree rolled her eyes and said, “Yummy.”
“Great, great.” The Chief hitched up his pants and stuck his thumbs in his pocket. “Mrs. Bumfrey took care of the parade for so many years. But I’m sure you’ll do just fine.
“Oh, yes,” Chief Glendale said. “One more thing. Mayor Lucky says we can’t have the mounted police in the parade. He’s worried about horse apples. Mrs. Bumfrey always took care of things like this. You’ll need to talk to the Mayor and convince him that the F.O.P. parade must have the mounted police.” Without waiting for an answer, he tipped his hat to Mom and left.
Bree said, “What are horse apples?”
No one answered.
All I could do was shake my head. We were in big trouble. Bree is the Aliens, Inc. Go-Between. That means she helps the Bix aliens understand the Earth way of doing things. If Bree didn’t understand Chief Glendale, no one else would.
I am the official Go-For. I “Go for this” and “Go for that.” This time, the Go-Between and the Go-For needed to get together for a Look Up Later List.
PARADE LOOK UP LATER LIST
1. What if Fund Raising?
2. What are Mounted Police?
3. Why can’t Mounted Police be
in a parade?
4. What are Horse Apples?
I turned to Bree and said, “Yummy? Did you say ‘Yummy’?”
She shrugged. “Some veggies are yummy.”
“Which ones?”
“You know. The good ones.”
Just like an Earthling girl. She won’t answer a straight question.