Page 31 - Extraterrestrials, Foreign and Domestic
P. 31

The Hermits

          Wilson  hesitated  for  less  than  one  second.  He  scampered
        through the tattered fence and thrust the newspaper into the old
        man’s open hands, then stood expectantly, like a retriever awaiting
        a biscuit. Al ignored him and carefully scanned the first page of
        the local news.
          There it was: ‘HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN? HUNT FOR
        RAPIST  CONTINUES.  Police  today  issued  a  composite
        rendering  based  on  victims’  descriptions.  Reward  offered  for
        information  leading  to  capture  and  conviction...’  And  a  sketchy
        likeness  of  Pancho  Villa.  The  picture  Lorraine  Lafong  sent  her
        brother to fetch. Al started to itch terribly.
          “Nope.  Nothing  in  here  about  the  circus,  yet.  Maybe  next
        week.” He carefully refolded the newspaper and handed it back to
        Wilson.
          The  boy  mumbled  something  Al  could  not  interpret,  and
        scuttled back into his own territory. The old man dropped his hoe-
        crutch  and  clambered  up  the  kitchen  steps  with  little  intent  of
        appearing casual.
          “Ricky!” he shouted hoarsely, upon reaching the stairs leading to
        the quarters of his guest. “Ricky! She’s gonna call the cops! You
        gotta do something! You hear me?”
          Al  scrabbled  up  the  cursorily  carpeted  steps  on  all  fours.
        Halfway up he saw the alien silhouetted against the wall behind the
        top landing. The man stopped, his heart pounding.
          “I  told  you  she’d  be  trouble.  There’s  some  nutcase  in  the
        neighborhood,  attacking  women,  and  she’s  got  it  into  her  head
        that I’m harboring a criminal up here. I don’t know what to do. I
        can’t stop them from searching the house without making it look
        even worse. What’ll we do?”
            Ricky’s  ocular  members  curved  down  toward  his  host.  “I’m
        shocked  at  the  change  in  your  epidermis,  Al.  Haven’t  you  been
        taking care of it?”
          “Eh? No, it’s just a little eczema, been kicking up on me since
        that  bitch  started  snooping  on  us.  Listen,  I’m  serious.  This  is
        serious. Wilson just brought her a newspaper with a very  rough
        drawing of the suspect; it may well be enough to get her calling the
        law down on us. In force.”
          Ricky stood or sat silently for several of Al’s heartbeats.

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