Alien Species Intervention: Books 1-3: An Alien Apocalyptic Saga (Species Intervention #6609) Page 5
As Netty approached the door to the cabin, she dropped her tools, planning to open up the seed caskets and scope out her selections for the morning. Some of the beans would require soaking overnight before they could be planted.
Walking to the back field, she let herself into her makeshift hospital, now used strictly for storage. Taking a trowel, she went to the earthen floor under the single window where she knew her papa used to store the seed. Scraping off the top few inches of soil, she exposed the caskets. Even though they were really half caskets, they were still terribly heavy.
Lifting them out of their hole, she lined them up and popped the lids. They came off unusually easily. One sniff of the seeds told the story. Rot. She spilled a casket on to the floor. Most of the seeds were covered with a layer of mold. She was unable to tell how many of the seeds were still good, unwilling to waste precious energy and tilled space to plant bad seeds in the hope they might germinate.
Her exultant mood evaporated. She dispiritedly left the animal hospital, passing by Baby as she let herself into the cabin. Baby’s neck swiveled toward the hospital. Realizing he’d remained outside, Netty returned to the door to call to him. The last thing she recalled before the pressure hit her was Baby’s golden tail in the air.
Netty picked herself up from the floor, having landed on her bottom again. She detected the same odor she remembered from the cavern. Sulfur. What just happened? Did it mean something? Netty stood rooted to the spot, confusion immobilizing her as Baby strolled past her to the straw mat at the fireplace as if nothing had happened.
Well, she shrugged. I guess that means it is time for dinner. Putting on the dinner pot, she grabbed a potato from the bin. She wondered if Baby would eat something this time. Putting out a bowl of water for him, she completed dinner and served it on her rickety table. Baby shuffled to the table, again wearing the water bowl on his head. Netty dropped her spoon and laughed. Maybe someday Baby would tell her what it meant. She finished dinner, noticing Baby didn’t touch his soup. Clearing the dishes, she dried her hands and headed to the outhouse to make her nightly ablutions.
As she opened the outhouse door, first looking for rattlesnakes, it occurred to her that she’d seen no signs that Baby had the same necessity. Assuming Baby was simply a woodland creature she’d never encountered before, she took herself off to bed. Why worry over something that really does not matter? she thought. She was beginning to love Baby even as he continued to mystify her. Her last thought that evening was how comforted she felt with Baby again pressed up against her as he slept curled under the covers by her tummy.
*
Netty and Baby woke the next morning to another beautiful day. Unfortunately, Netty’s outlook for her planting was so low that she found climbing out of bed a miserable chore. She planned to sift through the seeds to see if she could find a few that might be salvageable. If she had to spend any of the last of her silver coins on new seed, she could have great difficulty stocking in the supplies she’d need to get the two of them through the winter.
As it was, she would lose her opportunity to get a jump on the planting. By the time she’d traveled back and forth to town and planted the new seed, she could lose a full week. She knew she couldn’t take Baby to town with her and was unwilling to leave him alone just yet, afraid he might decide to return to the woods if she left him. She couldn’t bear the thought.
Shrugging into her work clothes after breakfast, she grabbed a small basket from the kitchen to store the few seeds she hoped to salvage from the caskets. She noticed Baby was already stretched out on the stoop in what was becoming his customary eating position. Whatever that means, she thought. Arriving in front of her old animal hospital, she slid the sliding wood door completely back to let in as much sunlight as possible. As she stood in the small room, she didn’t at first grasp what her eyes registered, not fully adjusted to the dimness. Slowly, awareness crept over her and she sank to her knees. Reaching out, she gingerly touched the little plants that lay all over the ground where yesterday she’d spilled moldy seeds. This cannot be. She quickly ran to the other caskets and found them chock full of little plants, all looking to burst out of their confinement and reach for the sun. Netty ran for the broken wheelbarrow she’d paid to have repaired. She hurriedly loaded it to the brim, worrying about their survival with no soil or water. No time to ponder on this new miracle, she quickly started down the road to her field, shouting to Baby as she passed him on the stoop.
*
By the time Baby made it to the field, she’d one beautiful row of seedlings in the ground and was digging holes for the second row. Distracted, she hardly noticed Baby, who approached the field, shining eyes focused intently on her as she planted. As she straightened up, wiping grime off her face, she watched as Baby made a hole with his fragile little fingers, plucked a plant from the wheelbarrow and buried it. Astonished and elated, Netty briefly wondered who had taught this to Baby.
Before long, Netty found herself running back to the hospital to refill the wheelbarrow and pick up lunch as Baby continued to do the planting. By late afternoon, Netty dripped with exhaustion. She glanced at Baby, now curled up inside the empty wheelbarrow and grinning at her with his amazing eyes doing their usual flashing. As tired as she felt, she still retained enough energy to scoop him into her arms and rub her face against his. Holding him on her hip like a mother would a child, she swung around to admire their work: row upon row of glowing greenery: corn, tomatoes, squash, beans, peppers, radishes, onions, watermelon, and honeydew. Even patches of strawberries and raspberries. Hmm, Netty thought, the plants sure appear taller from where I stand.
“Sister, eat,” came the whispered aura in her mind.
“Yes, yes, yes.” She laughed. “Soon, Baby. Now we must be patient while we wait for the plants to mature. We sure did a good job.” Turning her back to the crops, she plunked Baby down into the wheelbarrow and started down the road.
Her thoughts were happy ones, full of a hopeful future. Now she felt they stood a chance. Funny how she automatically thought in terms of they. Yes, they could be a family, the two of them.
She took a deep breath, drawing in the sweet twilight air, reminiscence of apple blossoms. She stopped suddenly; apple blossoms? She turned her nose and sniffed, the smell deliciously overpowering.
Dropping the wheelbarrow, she sprinted up the hill where the road to the orchard branched off, struck dumb by her discovery.
Tall with straight clean trunks they stood, bursting with blossoms: apple, crab apple, pear and wild cherry, and her beloved black walnut grove. This is impossible. What is going on here? Her gaze thoughtfully fell on Baby as he followed her to the top of the hill. She stared back at the orchard, dumbfounded by the impossibility, yet acknowledging a slow dawning of outrageous gratitude and smug security creeping into her consciousness as she began to accept their assured future.
Suddenly, she sobered, her joy vanishing. She felt a chill and shivered. Could this be magic or the devil’s work after all? Subdued, she gathered her wheelbarrow and made her way back to the cabin while her mind spun with confusion and possibilities.
Netty sat in her rocking chair, pressed up to the evening fire with Baby as he lay on his spot on the straw mat. It was time for her to make some decisions and put this issue to bed. She realized she was a simple woman, but she truly felt that all creatures, including people, were created by God. Without warning, a sleepy singsong whisper sang in her mind, a golden aura suffusing her mind’s vision.
“God is Father, Father is Womb.”
Netty reached over to Baby, shushing him. She needed a clear mind as she sorted out her feelings. She knew the country was young, much of it still not fully explored. There were many creatures that had probably only just been discovered and the knowledge of them not yet widely known; such as Baby.
Looking closely at Baby, she realized he didn’t resemble, in whole or in part, anything she’d seen before. He could walk upright (and perpendicular, she thoug
ht wryly) and his hands were similar enough to hers that he could perform tasks; basically fairly normal, although his eyes were certainly difficult to explain. What about my seeds and the miracle in the orchard? God does give miracles, but the presence of Baby seemed more than a coincidence.
As an afterthought, she rubbed her nose. This morning, upon awakening, she’d noticed what appeared to be peach fuzz on her head, filling in her bald spots. What more good fortune could happen to her? Not suspicious by nature, her natural inclination was to accept what had clearly been sent by God. Should she take Baby back to the woods? What would that prove? Maybe Baby portended a good luck charm. Her good luck charm; yes, hers. Netty lay down next to Baby on the straw mat, scooping him into her arms. His warm little body shuddered, seemingly with relief. Netty’s heart felt full and complete as she carried Baby to bed.
*
Netty and Baby’s days passed with plenty of hard work. Netty ripped down a shed next to the barn, using the material to build her fruit stand on the road into town. Her crops were coming in gloriously. Her blossoms in the orchard produced huge lovely fruits, ripening splendidly in the sun. Her fruit trees evinced an unexpected growth spurt, adding the height and girth needed to support the huge luscious fruits they spawned. And her berry patches ripened for picking, a mere half handful all that was needed to fill a pie. It was an exciting time. Her berry pies, baked in her mama’s bread oven were selling like crazy. She could not make them fast enough.
She constructed a special picnic basket for Baby to hide in while she spent time with customers at the fruit stand. Word of her pies and amazing fruit traveled to town. The owner of one of the popular local taverns took it upon himself to ride out in his shiny new automobile to see her. She was now his exclusive supplier of fresh fruit pies. And he wanted to be the first to see her vegetable crop come harvest time.
Netty was so busy, she hardly noticed that she’d slimmed down to a hard and strong figure. Easy to miss since she still wore the same clothes as when she’d met Baby. Unnoticed, her eyes took on a golden cast. Her hair grew long and lush, always pulled back and swept up in a ponytail, just like her mama’s. Oddly, her hair seemed to be changing color as it grew in. It looked like spun gold. Hard-won pride left a pretty smile on her face. Her days got better and better.
*
Baby stretched quietly in his picnic basket. He gave up trying to remember the purpose of his mission. He casually wondered about the whereabouts of his offspring. Not that it mattered. His species was fully prepared to face life upon Emergence, as they were born with the memory of their eternal history.
His life with his new Sister passed quite pleasantly, those of his species weren’t meant to be alone. He didn’t understand many of her customs, but not much seemed to be required of him, so he fell into an easy routine. Shockingly, he began to accept the fact that, here on this planet, his physiology behaved differently. Luckily, it appeared he no longer ran the risk of expiration.
Occasionally, his mind turned back to the moment he’d met his new Sister. He felt a twinge of fear as he realized the life force he’d called to feed on had turned out to be a Sister; a grave mistake as it was forbidden to heal a human.
He should have waited before sending her his grateful healing. He wondered if he’d angered the Womb with his carelessness. Unfortunately, he’d not been able to stop himself when she’d touched him, and had automatically helped himself to her life force. That in itself was allowed. It was just the bad timing of the state of what Sister called eating, the unexpected changes to his molecular structure brought on by his penetration into this new atmosphere, and the shocking discovery that his tail had fully evolved.
Only Elders sported fully evolved tails. Only Elders could heal other organisms. The control over his tail nonexistent and the ability to discriminate temporarily arrested had led to her healing. He knew it was sinful to heal a Sister of this planet, so he kept careful eyes on her, watching for the signs. So far, her changes didn’t frighten him. If she began to develop signs of an Elder, he knew the Womb might decide to take action. He had no idea what the Womb might do to punish him. After all, it was well known throughout most universes that the Womb resented the humans because of the defiance their creation represented.
Addressing his attention to his tail again, he felt the weight of the new membrane, all doubt removed. It was fully mature and functioning. He’d tested it on the Sister’s trees that had been dying, and on the tiny buttons she called seeds. Some were already dead. No help for them. But the rest were easy to correct. A gift, he did it happily for Sister; she’d seemed so distraught over the dead ones. He recognized they involved something to do with her eating. He knew how important that was.
Warily, he considered what the maturity of his tail portended. Surely he was on his way to being the first Elder of his species in a millennium, and along with that came, of course, immortality. Did the Womb realize this would happen? Did it have anything to do with his long forgotten mission? Baby stuck his head out of the picnic basket, looked around, climbed out, shuffled his way behind the fruit stand, lay down, stretched out his extremities and started to eat.
Chapter 4
Wil emerged from his room for the last time. He saw that the sky was gloomy and overcast. He didn’t do well on days like this. He always felt depressed when the sun went into hiding.
He’d said goodbye to his pa and ma last night. His two brothers weren’t interested in his affairs, so goodbyes weren’t needed. He felt he was leaving very little behind. His pa and ma had income from the large boarding house that had been in his Italian father’s family for generations. Both of his older brothers still lived at home with no signs of wanting to take a bride. He knew his pa and ma would be looked after.
He sure would miss his ma. He favored her with his bright clear blue eyes. She was Irish, from a big family. He had hopes that someday he’d have a family full of healthy little boys and pretty little girls. He thought of all the time he’d wasted on his halfhearted courting of Lexa, the only daughter of an Italian family from a town neighboring Boontown, where his family lived.
More accurately, it had been a case of her courting him. She was a big unfortunate-looking girl, very domineering, with a negative habit of constantly belittling him. Let’s face it, she’s a beast. With him out of the running, he was sure she’d have little chance of another suitor. Why he’d allowed himself to get involved was beyond him. His desire to have a family sure had overruled his common sense.
Wil Capaccino was a quiet young man of twenty one years, of medium height, but well-built with strong shoulders. His expression was sober and guileless, but when he smiled and those beautiful blue eyes lit up, he could melt the hardest anvil. Of course he was completely unaware of this. He thought himself a fair carpenter and wasn’t afraid to put in a hard day of work. And he was funny. He loved to make his friends laugh. He’d miss them.
He’d saved much of his wages from the last few years, only spending on presents for his ma and the occasional outing with Lexa when he couldn’t avoid her. His ma’s life had been hard; caring for both of Wil’s grannies, the boarders, his brothers and his pa. He’d miss her. But he knew it was time. If he was to make a stab at finding a full life for himself, he had to leave the small, predominantly Italian town he grew up in.
Norris County wasn’t big enough to escape the wrath of Lexa’s Neanderthal brothers so he thought he’d strike out for Sussex County. A man could find plenty of work in the farms that surrounded the country towns. Hopefully, he’d find the right little valley where he could buy himself a few acres of good bottom land and settle down.
Saddling up his mare, Maggie, he checked his bedroll and camping supplies. He wondered if he should bring another blanket, for winter hovered right around the corner. Dismissing the necessity, he mounted Maggie, tipped his hat to his boyhood home and took off down the trail.
*
Events chugged along nicely for Netty as the end of the brutal winte
r neared. Not a single day went by for want of food to eat. Netty loved to go down into the deep root cellar she’d paid to have dug last summer. It was extra-large to handle all the labors of her canning. She felt rich and accomplished. Her shelves gleamed with glass, reflecting the beautiful deep colors produced by her fertile field and the vigorous plants that had produced amazing sizes and quantities of fruits and vegetables never before seen in this part of the country, or maybe even the world. She prayed that the seeds she’d collected for next season’s planting would be just as prolific.
As the news of her successful farming spread, townspeople showed up at her door looking to trade goods for a sample of her home-cooked goodies. As a result the cabin looked much warmer and more cheerful. Bouncy chintz curtains at her windows, braided hooked rugs on the polished wooden floor. A stunning quilt lay across her bed; a gift for herself that she’d purchased from the church ladies on her last trip into town. She now owned her own horse and wagon; a huge extravagance, but a necessary one. She found it so much easier to carry her wares into town to sell rather than risk someone catching sight of Baby. It was bad enough that she took chances whenever she traded her crops and pies for repairs or construction around the cabin. Baby had developed a set of horns that were becoming more pronounced. Mature and elegant, they took on the sheen and hardness of solid gold. They sprouted up in such a growth pattern that they were growing through his crown of crystal antlers. When she stroked them, they felt warm and alive, way too tempting for many local hunters. She was afraid Baby might catch someone’s fancy and, when she turned her back, he’d be gone.
Her relationship with Baby grew closer than ever. They had stayed lost in their own world for most of the winter. Baking by day and enjoying the fire, curled up on Baby’s straw bed near the fireplace that roared all day into the night. There had been only one strange incident.