The Visitor
by Brian Lawrence

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Shelly awoke to a loud "AAAAAH", followed by a thump, a thud, and an expletive uttered by her husband.  She sat bolt upright, searching for Tom.  Nausea slammed into her mid-section as realization broadsided her.  She saw him through its eyes, tasted his scent on its tongue, heard his frantic heartbeat through its ears.  It became a force of wills, hers against its.  She had to delay it enough to allow her husband to escape.

Tom leaned against the dresser wearing only his striped pajama bottoms, his eyes wide with terror, his mouth opening and closing like a landed fish.

In a shaky, high-pitched voice, he said, "What have you done to my wife?"

Why did this happen?  My control, why did it slip?  Shelly forced its head to look at its hands.  Shimmering blue scales winked back.  Her heart sunk like a stone cast into a lake.

"Tom, settle down, I can explain."   No use.  She instantly realized that what she said and what Tom heard were galaxies apart.

Her frightened husband inched toward the open bedroom door, cautiously crossing one foot over the other, feeling his way, eyes riveted on Shelly.  But then he stopped, trapped by fear.

She felt it tense in anticipation, ready itself to spring, to disembowel, to seek its revenge for being shoved aside for so many years, for being caged like the vicious beast it hadn’t been.  But it would be now.  It would enjoy the anguish it would cause its other half as it ripped apart the human male limb by limb, organ by organ.  It was free, and never again would its other half take control

Because Shelly was aware of all this, she knew it was still early enough in the transformation that she had the strength to resist.  At least she hoped she did.

She felt its body sliding off the bed.  With tremendous effort she tried, but was unable to halt its progress toward her paralyzed husband.  But then its feet stuck in the sheets.

Why didn’t Tom run?

It kicked impatiently, trying to disentangle from the bed, but failed.  Tom remained plastered to the wall, his unblinking eyes unable to tear away from the thing thrashing on his mattress.

Shelly launched a new assault, but lost the battle as its claws sprung out and shredded the sheet in seconds.

It stood.

She refused to lose the war.

She screamed with all her might, forcing its vocal cords to emit a thunderous growl.

Tom snapped out of his horror-induced trance and bolted out the door, bouncing off the hallway wall, then running for the foyer.

A loud groan escaped its mouth as Shelly tried to transform back.  She failed, but the effort forced it to concentrate on her and not her retreating husband.  She continued her fight as she heard the sharp click of the dead bolt, then the front door smashing against the wall.  Only when Tom’s heavy footsteps and his wailing screams faded away, did she relax.

Frustrated at losing its opportunity for revenge, it fell back onto the bed, and Shelly seized control, knowing she could keep it now.  The effort, its first in months, had exhausted it, and it made but a feeble attempt to fight the transformation, then gave up.  For now.  But Shelly knew if she didn’t eat soon, it would grow stronger and she weaker.  The next time it took control, she might not regain it.

Still, she hesitated going to the kitchen.  What had happened?  She had always awakened before it did.  Always.  As long as she didn’t go over eight hours without a meal.

She jerked to a sitting position.  "That's it!" she shouted to the lonely room.  "I didn't get dinner last night."  Then softly, "Dammit, Tom.  I told you to wake me for dinner.  I've told you a hundred times never to let me miss dinner."

Now, Tom was gone.  Depressed and drained, she settled back onto her satin sheets.   The morning sun filtered through lace curtains creating kaleidoscopic patterns on the bed, its heat warming her face, reminding her of home.  All incentive to arise and start her morning routine fled.  She remained supine and allowed her mind to wander back to when she first met Tom.

*****

The forest was matted with tangles of fern and other undergrowth.  A magnificent canopy of tall oaks, sprawling maples, and towering elms struck awe into the visitor by its sheer density.  It stopped and cocked its smooth head, listening to the far off rat-a-tat-tat of a woodpecker, judging it to be at least a quarter of a mile away.

The dense, moist foliage provided a sharp contrast to its home, which was a desolate land, with an occasional patch of briars to add a smidgen of green to an otherwise brown landscape.  Its land was flat, and the bone-dry air clear.  The animals were scarce and scattered, thus the visitor and its people had evolved a keen sense of hearing rivaling the wolf, and a sense of sight as sharp as an eagle’s.

The sun was high and the temperature well over ninety, but in the forest was cool, especially to the visitor, who was used to searing heat exceeding one-hundred and twenty.

As it silently walked through the shade of the forest it blended into the darkness.  On those occasions when the visitor passed through a sun beam which had broken through the canopy, its shimmering blue, scaly skin, adapted to reflect the hot blue star of its homeland, glowed, creating a dancing aura.

It meandered through the forest, always knowing its exact location.  It paused, looked, and with lightning quickness snaked out a thin blue arm and plucked a black and yellow butterfly from mid air.  The visitor admired the struggling insect, then pulled out a small jar from a bulky brown utility belt, and carefully put it in.  Scattered throughout the pockets of the belt, it had collected several types of beetles and a shimmering blue butterfly with black tipped wings, an especially prized catch.

It continued on, scanning the area for more specimens, but then stopped abruptly.  A noise filtered through the general din of its surroundings.  The unmistakable sound of human voices came from the north, alluring voices that immediately touched off an internal battle.  Its curiosity won and it decided to seek out the source of the sound which it estimated at about a mile away.  Gliding swiftly and effortlessly through the forest, the visitor covered the distance in less than ten minutes.

It slowed its approach as it neared a clearing in the woods, stopping at the edge, and hiding behind the trunk of an ancient oak.  At the other side of the clearing a man sat on a blanket and a woman stood over him pointing her index finger at him, yelling at the top of her voice.

The visitor listened.

"You bastard.  You drag me all the way out here, to this God forsaken wilderness, just to tell me you want to back off of our relationship?"

The woman slapped the man hard, the sound like the crack of a rifle.  Then she turned and quickly walked away into the forest on the far edge of the meadow.  A few moments later, while the visitor still stared at the man on the blanket, an engine sputtered and kicked to life, then tires spun on a gravel road, then silence.

The visitor could see the hand print on the man’s clean shaven face.  He had not flinched or rubbed the tender spot.  Part of the visitor was enthralled by him.  It felt his anguish.  That part of it, the desire to comfort him, overwhelmed it and overpowered the other part, the part that wanted to leave, to continue collecting specimens and return to base.  The visitor made a decision to go to the man, to ease his hurt.

She stepped into the meadow, tripped on a fallen branch, which made a loud snap that attracted the man's attention.  He turned sharply, then rubbed his neck to ease the twinge caused by the sudden reaction.  A bright crimson flooded his face, temporarily covering the handprint.  His embarrassment melted away, replaced by astonishment.  She reveled in his stare, knowing he was attracted by her luxurious long black hair, finely curved athlete's body, barely covered in cutoff shorts and a half top.  She knew she appeared to him to be everything that the departed woman wasn't.

She paused and looked him over.  Since he was sitting it was hard for her to gauge his height.  His lithe body was well muscled.  His hair, a dark brown, was cut short with gentle waves.  His eyes were so brown that the pupil was barely distinguishable from the iris.

She resumed her advance.  As she approached, she sized up his psyche, using her ability to read emotions.  His nature seemed gentle, which explained the profound hurt he felt from the assault by his former companion.  When she was within mere feet of him, she stopped and smiled, then introduced herself.

"Hi, I'm...", pausing, she looked briefly behind him and noticed a small land snail creeping up a thin tree, leaving a trail of slime, "Shelly."  She extended her hand.

The man closed his still hanging jaw, shook his head slightly, as if to awaken from a dream, and stood.  He lightly grasped Shelly's hand and in a deep, clear voice said, "I'm Tom.  Where did you come from?"

At his touch she felt a jolt, but maintained control, keeping it away.  She hadn’t eaten in hours ,though, and knew she must soon.

"I'm from a long ways away from here.  I was just out in the woods collecting some bugs."  She pulled out a small jar from her belt and showed it to him.  He glanced briefly at the butterfly and quickly returned his gaze to her.

"Aren't you a little old to be collecting bugs?"

"I'm only a hundred and, I mean twenty seven.  And I don't collect bugs, I study them."

The near slip in telling her age went unnoticed as he remarked, "Ah, you're an entomologist."

"Correct.  That's exactly what I am."

"Would you like to have a seat?"  Tom pointed to the black and red plaid blanket spread over the long grass.

Tom sat and Shelly joined him.  Shyly, he asked Shelly if she had seen what had happened between him and the woman he had been with.  When she said that she had, he took some time to explain that their relationship had turned rocky and he wanted some time away from her.  Shelly listened intently and admired his dark eyes as they sparkled in the late afternoon sun.

Finally, Tom stopped his monologue and asked Shelly, "Don't you think it’s awfully hot here in the sun?"

"No, not at all.  Where I come from this is cool weather."

"Oh?  Where are you from, Arizona?"

"Arizona?  Yeah, close to there."  She quickly summoned her geography.  "New Mexico, near the Mexican border.  Very hot and dry."

"What brings you here?"

"Business.  I'm collecting specimens for my lab.  And you?"

"Vacation.  Some vacation, huh?  However, I must admit it's starting to look up."

Shelly glanced up then realized that "look up" was an idiom.  When she lowered her head Tom had a quizzical look.

"Butterfly," she quickly said.

Tom nodded and continued, "We arrived on Sunday and we're supposed to leave next Sunday.  Here it is only Tuesday and I'm alone."

"We also arrived on Sunday."

"We?" Tom asked.

Shelly paused to consider her reply.  "The collective 'we'.  I flew in and was referring to the other passengers."  She decided, for now, to skirt the issue of her adopted family.  "I'm also going to be in town until next Sunday," she added.

Her stomach rumbled and it stirred.  For a few seconds, she felt dizzy, but willed it away.  She looked at the food laid out on the far end of the blanket.  Apparently, Tom and his companion had planned a picnic.

She asked, "Are you going to eat that sandwich?"

Tom cocked an eye at Shelly and replied, "Uh, no.  Would you like it?"

"Yes, thank you very much."

Tom handed Shelly the sandwich which she gulped down in three bites.  He then offered her a muffin which she graciously accepted and quickly devoured.  She remarked that both were very good and when he mentioned there was wine and more muffins she said they were too good to resist.  Over the course of fifteen minutes Shelly ate three more muffins, two apples, and drank half a bottle of wine, more than enough to keep it at bay for some time.

"You have an amazing appetite.  How do you stay so thin?"

"I have a high metabolism rate.  It's not easy maintaining this body."

"Yes, but normally a woman has to watch what she eats to maintain a body like yours."

"I'm not like other women."

"No, you certainly aren't."

As afternoon approached evening, the sun dropped below the forest leaving the two new friends in a premature
dusk.  Tom suggested they head for town.  During the hour long hike, Shelly sensed Tom's protective nature, so feigning apprehension at the growing darkness and the forest noises, she took his hand.

With their hands locked, the adoration growing in her mushroomed.  Her attraction to him surpassed that to anyone else, including anyone of her own kind.  Through the gentle embrace of their hands she learned that her first instinct had been correct, Tom was a warm and sensitive man.  She could feel his strength and confidence surging through his veins as an antithesis to the quiet and humble nature he projected.  As unlikely as it seemed she was in love with a human.

It protested and reminded her of her origins.  It tried to regain control, to cause a transformation.

Shelly staggered with the sudden onslaught.

“Are you okay?”  Tom gripped her shoulders to help steady her.

She quickly squashed the rebellion.  “Yes, I’m fine.  Tripped on a rock.”

They continued on and arrived in town just as the sun made its last burst of splendor on the horizon.  They were staying in different hotels, so Tom walked Shelly to hers first.  They stood outside the grand old hotel in an awkward silence, looking everywhere but at each other.

Finally, Shelly boldly asked, "Would you like to spend some time together tomorrow?"

"I'd love to.  Pick you up about eleven?"

"Eleven is fine, but I'll meet you at your hotel."

“Sounds great.  It’s the Sleep Eaze.  Good night.”

Shelly turned and walked through the double glass doors of the hotel, then down the long hall, past the front desk, to room 112.  She inserted the key into the door and opened it.

The visitor walked into the room and joined its family.

*****

At ten forty-five a.m. the visitor had been up for hours. It had passed the time labeling and arranging the insect catch from the day before.  Its family was out in the forest collecting more specimens, unaware of their adopted daughter’s plans.

It stood and walked to the door, but then paused.  It resisted the transformation, sensing her desire, fearing she was growing too fond of her human half.

It turned, putting its back to the door.  One step, then its body was flung against the wall.  It pivoted, again facing the door.  Its hand reached toward the doorknob.  With its other hand, the visitor tried to pull the reaching hand back, but instead its body was flung forward.  With its face against the door, it gripped the doorknob and twisted, then jerked backward and flung the door open.

Shelly stepped into the quiet hallway, breathing hard.  A maid gave her a mildly curious glance, then went back to her work.  Shelly left the hotel and headed for Tom's.

At the Sleep Eaze, Shelly asked the front desk clerk to dial Tom’s room.  Moments later, he appeared in the lobby and gave Shelly a huge smile and a peck on the cheek.

"You've done something to your hair?” he asked.

"I have?"  She glanced in a mirrored panel on the lobby wall and noticed that her hair did seem a little shorter than she remembered from the day before.

"I trimmed it this morning."

They locked arms and left the hotel.

"Can we start with lunch?"  Her stomach growled loudly, underscoring her need for food.  It was being particularly difficult this morning, so she’d need extra energy.

"Sure,” Tom replied, shaking his head and smiling.  “I'm getting a bit hungry myself.  Skipped breakfast."

The rest of the day was spent window shopping in the small eastern town, with frequent stops at the various food establishments.  The day was capped off with a wonderful dinner at a chic Italian restaurant on the far west end of the town.

Afterwards, Tom walked Shelly back to her hotel, and like the night before, left her at the front door and skipped back to his own hotel.  Before he left though, Shelly leaned over and kissed him on the mouth.  It was a new sensation for her.  Her body temperature rose, her heart beat increased, and she felt her face flush.

Tom looked quizzically at her and commented, "I must be getting tired."

"Why's that?"

"You just went all fuzzy, out of focus.  I didn't feel dizzy, but suddenly my vision blurred."

"Isn't that wonderful.  You have the same effect on me."  She turned slowly and headed into her hotel, stopping just before the door.  "Same time tomorrow?" she asked in a soft voice.

"You bet.  Can't wait."

*****

Shelly avoided her family as much as she could knowing they would disapprove.  She made up excuses for places to go, never once mentioning she was seeing Tom, but they knew, and they feared what was coming.

She had always been impulsive and head strong, a trait that seemed to run in her family, her real family.  When Shelly was born, her father and mother were banished to the wastelands because he had committed two grievous sins.  First, he had abducted an earth female, a violation in itself punishable by banishment.  But then, to compound matters, he made her pregnant and allowed her to carry to term, thus producing Shelly.

Her father’s brother could not bear to see a child banished as well, so had persuaded the council to allow the child to stay and be raised as one of their own.  The council, after heated debate, had acquiesced, feeling the non-human side of her would be dominate enough.  They had been wrong.

On Saturday evening Shelly announced, “I’m going to St. Louis with Tom.”

"You can't be serious?" her adopted mother said.  "You won't be happy here without your family and friends."

"Mother, I love it here. And I love Tom.  I'll make new friends.  There’s nothing for me at home.  That desolate rock we live on.  Sand, sand, and more sand.  Heat, wind.  The place is flatter than this table."  Shelly emphasized by pointing down to the cheap round table in their hotel room.

"But our work?" added her father.

That was her father.  The only thing he ever thought about was his work.  The man was the most respected biochemist in their homeland and he expected both of his children to follow in his footsteps, if not in the same field, at least with the same prestige.

Shelly did not want to hurt his feelings, not now, so she said,  "Think of the things I’ll learn here.  I'll be able to travel all over this world.  We’ve only been able to see a small portion of it with our three visits.  It’ll be an extended laboratory.  I'll be home one day, I promise.  And when I am, I'll have so much to share with you."

Her father's eyes lit up and he nodded slowly, placing his hand on his chin.  Her mother, though, gave him a swift jab in the ribs and said,  "Don't encourage her.  She'll never survive here.  One day she’ll slip and they'll hunt her down like a beast."  Then turning to Shelly, she said, “You’re only half human.  You can’t keep your other half dormant forever.  It must come out at least occasionally.”

Though all her race were shape-shifters, only she had the ability to actually become human.

"Mother, you worry too much.  I'm staying and there’s nothing you can say to convince me otherwise."  Shelly placed her hands on her hips and put on her most obstinate expression.  She knew they would consent, they always did.  All her life, she’d asked for little, but when she did, her parents had given in.

Her brother felt compelled to get in his two cents worth, and remarked, "I hope he makes a lot of money.  You're
going to eat him out of house and home."

Shelly glared at him, then softened her expression and gave them all one last hug.  At the door, an internal battle waged.  This time, she kept it quiet, willed her body to remain stationary as it tried to deny control.  With an extreme effort that left her famished, she stepped into the hallway and bade farewell to her family forever.

*****

About two years after they were married, while eating dinner, Tom asked, "Don't you think it’s about time we had a child?"

Shelly coughed, nearly choking on a large bite of her hamburger.  She managed to swallow, then just stared at  Tom with a look of disbelief.

"Well, what do you think?"

Her mind raced.  She had to come up with something.

“But my career?  I enjoy working at the museum.  I'm not ready to give that up."

"You're career, as you call it, is going nowhere.  And by this time next year, after another budget cut, you may not have a job.  Come on Shelly, don't you want to have my child?"

She considered several options.  She could get angry at him for insulting her job, even if he was right.  Or, how about the truth?

"I can't have children."  She hoped her eyes did not betray the lie, partial lie anyway.  She could have children, just not Tom's.  Actually, that wasn’t quite the truth either.  She could have Tom's children, but she felt quite sure that everyone concerned, Tom, the doctor, the nurses, would be shocked to see what came out of her.  Not your normal baby.  It would give new meaning to the term "blue baby".

"How do you know this?"

"I've been to the doctor.  My ovaries are twisted.  Even surgery can’t fix them.  They’re already damaged beyond repair.”  She started to sob.  “I'm sorry I didn't tell you.  I thought you might leave me if you knew I couldn't have children."

She wailed pitifully then ran for the bathroom, where she locked herself in.

Tom followed and tried to console her through the door.

After a bit, her crying eased and she thought she was fine, ready to join her husband again.  Then why was she shaking?  She looked in the mirror.  A blue haze outlined her body.

“Oh, no.”

Her hair started to recede, her shoulders hunched.

She tried to wrestle control back.  The effort flung her body sideways.  She caromed off the wall.

“Shelly?  What’s wrong, honey?  Are you okay?”

She couldn’t speak.  Her lower half had completely transformed.  Her head was now bald and a baby blue color.  The pupils of her eyes had grown and yellowed.

Tom turned the door knob.  She’d forgotten to lock it.  When he pushed it open, she pivoted and shoved it closed, hard.  Her strength forced Tom back.  She heard him hit the wall across the hall with a loud thump.

“Jesus Christ, Shelly.  What’s the matter?”

She tried to say something, but all that came out was a low snarl.  She let it go, allowed it to consume her entirely.  The transformation finished in seconds, but then it relaxed, thinking it had won.  That’s when Shelly pounced.  She threw its body against the wall again, and before it could right itself, had transformed back.  She stood panting, furious that after all this time it had tried to regain a hold.

She emerged from the bathroom.

“I’m sorry, Tom.  Are you okay?  I didn’t want you to see--”

Tom hugged her and did not let her go for over five minutes.  Finally, they went back to the table and finished their hamburgers in silence.  The subject of children was laid to rest.

*****

Only one other time did it again have control, and that time, Shelly had allowed it.

Five years after moving to St. Louis, Shelly was walking through the neighborhood when a slim, red-haired woman approached her.

“Hi,” the red-head said.

Even though she looked nothing like she did the last time Shelly had seen her, she instantly recognized her best friend.

Shelly addressed her with her real name and the woman replied, "It’s Eva now, darling."

"Eva?  That's a pretty name.  Mine’s Shelly.  What are you doing here?  And how did you get here?"  Shelly narrowed her eyes at Eva, suddenly suspicious of her friend.

"I live here now.  We just moved in up the street.  And I got here the same way you did, about a month ago.  I just had to see what the big attraction was."

Turning up an eyebrow Shelly asked, "We?"

"Yes, darling.  I’m married to a wonderful man named Martin."

Even though Shelly was convinced her parents had talked Eva into coming to St. Louis to check on her, she was still delighted to see her old school pal.

"Did Martin come with you or did you meet him here?"

"Oh here, of course.  You know as well as I, there’s no one at home worth bringing along."

"And he doesn’t notice?”

“Not so far.  I let it out at night, while Martin’s sleeping.  Don’t you do the same?”

“Not anymore.  I’ve locked it away for good.”

“Oh, dear.  I’m not sure that’s such a hot idea.”

“It’s worked.”

“Yes.  Well you and your husband must come to dinner tonight.”

“We will.  Oh, Eva, I can't tell you how nice it is to finally have someone to talk to about home."

That Halloween, Eva paid a visit to Shelly.

"Shelly, are you home?"  Eva called from the front door.

"In the bedroom folding laundry.  Come on in."

Shelly heard Eva walk through the door and close it behind her.  For close to a minute Shelly heard nothing more.  Suddenly, the short hairs on the nape of her neck prickled.  She whirled around and came face to face with a thin blue biped with a smooth head, eyes set likes frogs on the brows, and large ears.

"Jesus, Eva!  You scared the hell out of me.  Boy are you ugly."

Eva shape-shifted and replied, "Thanks a lot.  Let's go trick or treating.".  Eva had that naughty school girl look on her face that she got every time she wanted to do something dangerous.

"I don't have a costume," Shelly replied, knowing what was coming next and dreading it.

"Of course you do darling, the same one I have."

Shelly protested mildly, but in the back of her mind it thought it was a great idea.  Between Eva and it, they convinced her.

Around seven, Shelly and Eva told their husbands they were going to a movie, then went trick or treating in there natural bodies.  They walked up to houses, rang the bell, and when the occupant opened the door they said, "Trick or treat" and then added some adjective, either nice or nasty depending on who the neighbor was.

What the person answering the door heard sounded like a record being played backwards at high speed.  The pair would take the candy, usually extra for their "extremely creative imagination", and have it eaten before reaching the sidewalk.  It was a night to remember, though it nearly turned into a nightmare.

They’d had their fill of door to door candy hand-outs and headed toward home.  It began feeling restless, anxious, not wanting to change back to human form, so it decided to assert itself.

Shelly should have seen it coming, but didn’t.  A group of children approached them, teasing each other, laughing loudly.  They stopped when they saw the pair of blue, lizard-like monsters.

“Awesome costumes, dudes.  Where did you get them?”

It reached out and lifted the twelve-year-old by his neck and pulled him toward it before Shelly could react.

In their native language, Eva shouted, “Shelly, what are you doing?  You’re going to hurt that child.”

It flung the child into a bush, growled, and reached for another child.  The group broke and ran, screaming at the top of their lungs.  It gave chase, closed on a girl dressed as Dorothy, reached out, and plucked her off the sidewalk, her legs still churning.  It turned the girl around and opened its mouth wide, revealing it double rows of sharp teeth.  The girl gurgled, trying to scream, but petrified beyond sound.

From behind, Eva shoved it to the ground.  The girl fell from its grip and landed hard on the sidewalk, where she sat and bawled.  It felt a clawed hand grip its arm and drag it away.

On the side of Shelly’s house, Eva slapped it hard, then came at it with bared claws.  Because its attention was on fending off Eva, Shelly was able to wrest control back.

Eva slashed.  Shelly ducked, barely evading the razor-sharp claws that would have shredded her human face.

“I’m back, Eva.  Stop.”

Eva shapeshifted.

“Shelly, what happened?

“It’s angry and wants out -- for good.  Never again, Eva.  I mean it, never again.”

*****

Shelly finally crawled out of bed and made her way to the kitchen.  Enough reminiscing.  If she didn’t eat soon, it would try again.  After finishing a breakfast of four eggs, six pieces of toast, and ten strips of bacon, Shelly dressed and wandered over to Eva's.

"I saw Tom running down the street, dressed in pajama bottoms,” Eva said as soon as Shelly walked through the door.  “He didn’t appear to be out for a morning jog.  What happened, darling?"

"I missed dinner last night and it got control."

"Oh, my.  I can see where that might upset him.  Well, what shall we do?  Want some coffee?

Shelly nodded.

While Eva poured two cups she thought out loud.

“First we need a story for Tom and the cops.  A practical joke?”

“Won’t work.  He might remember Halloween.  The attack of the blue monster was on all the news stations.”

“Yes, I remember that.  Well, there you go.  Whoever that was struck again.  And you, well, you were over here.  Came over early so we could go shopping.”

Shelly had her doubts, but she started to feel better.  Maybe she wouldn’t lose Tom after all.

“Next thing,” Eva continued.  “We need a place where you can let it out occasionally.  A controlled environment among friends, among your own kind.  This repressing isn’t good for you or it.”

“But--”

“No buts, darling.  You said it yourself before, it’s angry.  If feels caged, ignored.  You have to give it some freedom.  Now where can we go?”

She put the coffee cups on the counter and sat on a bar stool.

“I know, Martin’s firm has several warehouses on the river.  They’re seldom used.  Once a week we can meet at one of them.  We’ll call it lady’s night out.  Tell the boys we’re playing cards or something.”

“More like alien’s night out,” Shelly said.  She sipped her coffee.  “Got any donuts?”

Eva went to the cupboard and pulled out a box of mini-donuts.

“Let’s start tonight.  First night.  Show it some good faith, let it know you’re not angry for the stunt it pulled.”

“Eva?”

“No arguments.  Here.”  She reached toward the end of the counter and retrieved a pad of paper and pen.  We’ll invite all our friends.  I’m sure they’ll think it’s a great idea.”

Eva poised her pen over the paper.

“Let’s see,” she said, “there’s Theresa from down the street, and Margie from across the street, and Gina from the office.”

“Don’t forget Susan, the Avon lady,” said Shelly.

“Of course.  And there’s Elly from the beauty parlor, and Clarice from the health club and...”
 

Copyright 2001, Brian Lawrence