When Chenille Is Not Enough

“Marsel,” Bozidar said, “the plan just got more complicated.” He asked Cecily, “How many are there?”

“Four.”

“More than I expected.” He grimaced and spoke to the screen. “Marsel, call the elders and tell them what is happening. Let them know the situation is out of my control, and remind them that we owe a debt to the descendants of She Who Found Us.” He tapped the screen and put the box on the coffee table.

“Where’s the dang gun?“Edna snarled.

“It won’t do you any good,” Louise said. “Chenille still works on the others, right?” she asked Bozidar.

“Yes.” The corners of his mouth drooped. “Would you permit me to speak with them before you kill them?”

“No one is getting killed today,” Susan said as she motioned to Cecily. “Upstairs closet, behind the extra pillows. I kept a few chenille beanbags. Tell your sisters to stay put.”

Cecily sped from the room. Kyle followed her as Gary two-stepped around them to enter the living room.

“What are the bolts doing?” Susan asked.

“Standing by the pear tree,” he said. “They don’t have faces, so I can’t tell if they’re watching the house or what.”

“They have only just arrived,” Bozidar said. “They will need a moment to adjust to their surroundings.”

“That sound your machine made,” Scott said, “that was a proximity alert?”

“You are correct.” Bozidar inclined his head to Susan. “With your permission, I will speak to them.”

“And say what, exactly?” Edna asked. “And why are we all standing here? We should at least be watching them.” She trotted to the kitchen.

Susan grabbed Bozidar by the elbow and propelled him along as she followed Edna. “If you think you can help, you’d better get out there before she does.”

Edna stood at the counter, watching the aliens from the windows. The rest gathered around the table. Susan prodded Bozidar, but before he could speak Cecily and Kyle ran into the room, arms filled with chenille beanbags.

“You kept more of this stuff than I expected,” Cecily said as she and Kyle piled the bags on the table.

Bozidar edged around the table, eyes on the beanbags. He jostled Edna, skittered back and fell against Scott.

“Watch it, space boy,” Edna said, never averting her gaze from the beige beings in the back yard. “They’re just standing there. Are they going to rush the door?”

Scott steadied Bozidar and patted his shoulder. “I don’t think so,” he said. “There’s no smoke, no movement. Last year they rippled before they attacked.”

Bozidar studied the creatures. “They are waiting for a signal. They know one of the clan is here, but not who, or why.” He faced Scott. “These are lower ranking cousins. They will wait for orders.”

“How can you tell?” Susan asked.

“That they are of an inferior class or that they will wait for orders?” Bozidar asked.

“Both.”

“Enough chatter!” Edna said as she grabbed a chenille beanbag in each hand. “One of them just moved.”

She tucked the bags in the crook of her arm, threw open the door and marched halfway across the patio before anyone could react. Susan was the first to follow, dragging Bozidar with her. Louise and Scott scooped up the rest of the bags. Louise blocked the doorway after Scott had exited.

“Gary,” she said, “make sure Cecily and Kyle stay in here.” She stared at her son, then at Gary, before closing the door behind her.

As Gary moved to block the exit, Cecily said, “You aren’t really going to keep us in here, are you?”

“Of course not,” Gary said, watching the group outside. “But we shouldn’t go out empty-handed. If there’s no more chenille, get something to whack them.”

“Mom, or the aliens?” Cecily asked.

“Both, if necessary. Get some brooms, or two-by-fours, anything we can use as a weapon.”

As Kyle and Cecily searched for something to swing, Edna advanced on the beige bolts. The creatures retreated until one bumped into the pear tree. Their surfaces puffed, and the creatures quivered. Edna shook her beanbags at them.

“Mother,” Susan said, her voice a cross between a command and a plea. “Don’t antagonize them. Let Bozidar explain first.”

“He’ll get his chance,” Edna said. She took another step toward the creatures. “Let me tell you about your new reality, fellas. I’m the granddaughter of She Who Found You, so you better behave yourselves.”

Bozidar approached the creatures, with a push from Susan. “She speaks the truth,” he said. “I have proof. The clan elders are considering what to do. If we are calm, I am certain your previous actions will be forgiven. I give you my word I will do all I can to bring you home in safety, with minimal demerits.” He moved one foot in front of the other, pausing between steps. His hands were open, held out by his sides. On the third step, he cautiously bent his elbows, brought his hands in front of him as if he were offering them a gift, and bowed his head.

The creatures huddled next to the pear tree. The outer folds of fabric undulated in a hypnotic rhythm. A quiet rustle accompanied the movement. One tottered forward and chittered at Bozidar.

“They did that last time,” Edna said. “Is that how you talk to each other?”

“Yes,” Bozidar snapped. “Would you mind letting me hear what they have to say?” He spoke to the four, inching closer.

The back door slammed. Gary, Cecily and Kyle stood on the patio. Gary held a shovel as if it were a bayonet, while Kyle clutched a heavy broom. Cecily had a length of chenille fabric wrapped around her arm, one end swinging free.

The four beige creatures scurried around the slender pear tree, squeaking in short bursts. They hid in a line behind the trunk.

“Oops,” Cecily said. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

Susan put her arm around Edna’s shoulders and immobilized her within a hug. She steered her toward the patio and said, “Gary, Kyle, put the weapons down. The rest of you, hide the chenille. Bozidar, tell your friends we won’t hurt them.”

“They are my clan, not my friends,” Bozidar said. He turned to the crouching creatures and chirped. He modulated to singsong vocalizing as he approached them.

The first bolt in line straightened. Its folds of fabric quivered, and a small lump appeared in its midsection. The lump morphed into a knob, then into an arm. Another arm grew next to it, and the creature extended them as Bozidar had done. It wobbled across the grass, squawking as it moved.

“Yes, I will tell them,” Bozidar said. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled. “They are willing to trust me.”

“They?” Edna asked. “I only see one surrendering.”

“Hush, Mother,” Susan said.

“That one is their leader. They will follow him,” Bozidar said. He motioned the leader to approach.

The leader shifted its body at an angle and motioned to its companions. The others did not move. The leader squawked, and its outer folds rippled. The others remained immobile behind the tree. Green smoke puffed from the leader’s top, and it stamped its foot.

Bozidar chirped at the three. He extended his arms, palms up, and bowed.

“Is there a problem?” Susan asked.

“Looks to me like the leader’s been voted out of office,” Edna said.

“The others are frightened,” Bozidar said. “Give me a moment. I am certain I can persuade them.” He continued to extend his arms and bow.

Scott took the chenille beanbags from Edna. “Will it help to clear the area of toxins?”

“It couldn’t hurt,” Cecily said. She carried the chenille into the house and returned with Bozidar’s black box. “Marsel is back. I could hear him shouting all the way in the kitchen.”

At the sound of Marsel’s voice, the four creatures chittered and shook. One of those still hiding behind the tree squawked three times. Its body rippled and popped, its legs doubled in length, it bobbed twice, then leaped over the fence. The other two were silent for a fraction of a second until, one after another, they also leaped the fence like frightened deer.

“No!” Bozidar cried. He lunged for the leader of the stragglers.

As his hands touched the beige fabric, the creature exhaled green smoke. Its arms joined into a club, which grew with each puff of smoke. The creature screamed like a furious sea gull and bashed Bozidar on the side of his head. Bozidar crumpled beside the creature. It kicked at him while its legs doubled, then tripled in length. It whacked Bozidar in the side and bounded to the back of the yard, then over the fence.

“Scott, get the car,” Edna said as she wriggled free from Susan. “They’ve jumped onto a dead-end street. If we hurry we can trap them.”

Bozidar rolled on his back and moaned. Susan and Cecily rushed to his side. Marsel still shouted from the black box.

“Catch them,” Bozidar gasped.

Edna grabbed Scott’s elbow and pulled him toward the door. Gary and Kyle retrieved their weapons and followed.

“How badly are you hurt?” Susan asked. “What can we do to help?”

Bozidar stopped moaning, shifted to his side and propped himself on an elbow. “The pain is receding. Let me speak to Marsel.” Cecily handed him the noisy box. “Marsel, be quiet,” Bozidar said. He struggled for balance as Susan and Cecily helped him to sit up. He held the box with both hands and glared at the screen. “That would have gone better if you had not frightened them,” he said.

“I recognized that useless one they elected leader,” Marsel said. “He entered into a breeding contract with my sister, against my advice. I had hoped he was one of the dead.”

“You might get your wish if they aren’t careful,” Cecily said. “It gets dark early in February. If they run into traffic they’ll be killed. Do they know about cars?”

A wind whirled through the yard, and Susan shivered. “It’s getting cold as well as dark. Let’s get inside.” She motioned to Cecily. They each put an arm around Bozidar and helped him to his feet.

Louise joined them and took the black box from Bozidar’s shaking hands. “Why didn’t they use a transporting device?” she asked. “Or did they leap over the fence to get here? Hang on, let me get the door.”

Louise opened the door while Susan and Cecily steadied Bozidar. Susan helped him through the kitchen as Cecily kicked the pile of chenille items under the table. Once in the living room, he sank into the couch and closed his eyes. Susan patted his shoulder. Louise and Cecily hovered behind the couch, while Marsel continued shouting.

“Please stop,” Bozidar said.

Susan sat next to him. “It won’t do any good,” she said. “I’ve sat in that very spot wishing away my problems. You’ll have to open your eyes some time and the problems will still be there.” She motioned for Louise to give her the box. Smiling at the screen, she said, “Hello again, Marsel.” She paused while he sputtered. “I think there is enough blame to go around. Let’s focus on getting your clansmen back. Is there any way we could signal them?” She glanced at Bozidar and shook her head. “Poor Bozidar is having a very bad day, so perhaps you and I could do this together?”

“I am capable . . . ,” Bozidar said, but his voice trailed to a wheeze.

“Just rest,” Susan said. She turned to Cecily. “Go check on your sisters, and get them something to eat.”

“I’ll help,” Louise said. She linked her arm with Cecily’s and led her from the living room before she could protest.

“Could we entice your clansmen to my shop?” Susan asked Marsel. “It’s the only place they know, even if it does hold unpleasant memories for them.”

“For what purpose?” Marsel asked. “They have already disgraced themselves by running away. They understand the consequences of their actions.”

Susan frowned. “Well, you’d better find a way to get around those consequences. They’ve been hiding on Earth for a year. Who knows how many humans have seen them? You don’t want them to get caught. That would be a disaster for both sides.”

“Disaster,” Bozidar repeated in a plaintive whisper.

“Let’s make this easy,” Susan said, keeping her tone cheery. “You want a quiet resolution to the problem, Bozidar wants to go home, and I want to run my business without worrying about homicidal aliens disguised as fabric. Once we know what your clansmen want, we can negotiate.” She lowered her voice and glared into the screen, “And I have quite the bargaining chip, being Agnes’s great grand-daughter.”

The front door slammed and Edna’s voice echoed throughout the downstairs. “Well, we lost them. Again.” She tromped into the living room and flopped in a chair. Pointing to Bozidar, she said, “He still hasn’t recovered?”

“Disaster,” Bozidar said. He struggled to his feet, but Susan tugged on his elbow and he collapsed again.

“Let him be, Mother,” Susan said. “I’m trying to get Marsel to help us find the lost lambs.”

“Lost gazelles is more like it,” Edna said. She waved at Scott, who entered the living room followed by Gary and Kyle. “Tell her, hon. Those things can jump like nothing I’ve seen. We’re lucky it’s getting dark. No one else was on the street and I didn’t see anyone peering from the windows.”

Scott nodded. “I was concerned when that blue light flashed, but it didn’t seem to attract attention.”

“Blue light?” Susan asked. “Marsel, does that mean they have a transport device?”

“Most likely,” Marsel said. “Please gather where I can see you all.”

Susan propped the device on the table. “Help me shift him,” she said to Gary.

Gary and Kyle positioned themselves behind the couch, reached over and grasped Bozidar’s arms, then tried to lift him. Bozidar remained inert, like a lump of epoxy stuck to the cushions. Susan and Scott moved the coffee table out of the way. Scott cradled Bozidar’s ankles and at his signal the three men shifted him to the end of the couch. Edna and Scott squeezed next to Susan, who repositioned the table and the black box. Gary and Kyle stood behind the couch.

“Is that better?” Susan asked.

“Yes,” Marsel said. “Would the elder one please resume her story?”

Scott squeezed Edna’s hand. “He means that respectfully, dear.”

She shook her fist at the screen. “Come here and I’ll show you who’s the elder one.”

“I’d like to hear the rest of the story, too, Mother,” Susan said.

“Fine, let your mother be insulted.” Edna glared at Marsel. “Anyway, we found your beige buddies loping down the street. We herded them toward the bike trail at the end of the cul de sac. Kyle jumped out of the car and almost ran them down, but they leaped up into the trees.”

“We tried to talk them down,” Gary said. “I did the bowing routine that Bozidar used. Even if I did it wrong, it kept their attention long enough for Scott to get there. I really thought you convinced them to come down from the branches, Scott.”

“What did you do, Mother?” Susan said. Her eyes confirmed she was accusing, not asking.

“Nothing,” Edna said. “I didn’t do a thing.”

Scott nodded. “I made her promise to behave. I don’t know what spooked them. One minute they were huddled in the tree, and the next there was a flash of light.”

Susan crossed her arms and pressed her lips together. “We have to make them trust us. Any ideas?”

“Food,” Louise said. She stood between the kitchen and the living room. “They’ve been hiding for a year. Alone. Scared. They must be starving.”

Scarlet smoke puffed around Marsel’s image. “Who is speaking? I wish you would stay in one place!”

“That’s Louise,” Susan said, “with a great idea. What could we offer them?”

Bozidar lurched toward Susan, spilling across Scott. He fell to the floor, landing with a thunk on his knees. Scott caught him before he bashed his head on the coffee table and pulled him onto the couch.

"Stotlet,” Bozidar mumbled.

“They have such a thing on their planet?” Marsel asked, his voice quavering with amazement and envy.

“What? What do we have?” Edna reached across Scott and grabbed Bozidar’s arm.

“It is a delicacy so rare many of us live our entire lives without tasting it,” Marsel said. “I myself have been privileged to partake of stotlet not once, but three times.”

“Congratulations,” Susan said. She rolled her eyes. “And where can we find this sto . . . stot . . . stuff?”

Bozidar shook his arm, dislodging Edna’s hand. He pulled his shoulders back and took a deep breath. “You call it ice cream.”