Out Of This World Read online

  I pulled Earth: An Introduction to Physical Geology from the shelf. It wasn’t the most riveting book in the library, but it certainly had all the information about Earth’s geology that Celeste might want. Just for grins I also pulled Fingerprints Of the Gods, a fascinating book I’d read suggesting that the history of mankind was far older than anyone previously thought. The author used tools like archaeoastronomy, geology, and computer analysis of ancient myths to support his theories. It was fascinating material to a nerd like myself.

  “Interesting choices, Bella,” she remarked.

  “What other kinds of books would you like to check out?”

  “How many am I allowed at one time?” she asked.

  “You can check out up to five. I’ll need to help you get a library card. Do you have a driver’s license or some other kind of identification?”

  Celeste did her cute little head tilt and I sensed that she didn’t have any such thing. This was going to be a problem, but I was a master problem solver and decided it would be my personal challenge to help Celeste out.

  “I don’t suppose a computer chip containing my biological, physical location, and other necessary information will work?” Celeste touched my arm and I felt a warm, peaceful feeling travel up my arm and seep into my whole body.

  Maybe she was teasing me, but deep down I knew her response was odd. Everything about Celeste was out of this world, but I didn’t care. At first, I convinced myself that Celeste just had an unusual sense of humor. Later, I kept flip-flopping over what I believed.

  “A computer chip isn’t exactly a common form of identification recognized in this little hole-in-the-wall town.” I was compelled to help, so I quickly added, “No problem, I can check them out under my card and I’ll help you get a new license or some form of identification. I assume you just moved here from somewhere?”

  “I am temporarily in this location,” she offered.

  “Okay, no worries. We can still use your temporary address to obtain ID. Do you have a piece of mail with you? Maybe a bill or something?”

  “Address? Bill?” She quirked her head.

  Okay, now I was getting a little concerned. What am I getting myself into? I frowned. “Celeste, where do you live? Temporarily, that is?”

  “I live in my ship, of course, but you are not allowed to visit. We have strict guidelines.” She touched my arm again and the peace flooded me.

  She grinned.

  Now I was sure she was teasing me. I liked it. No one, except maybe Sydney, had ever been playful with me before, because they always assumed I was too serious to enjoy joking around. I laughed at her, but then I got serious again because I thought that maybe she was homeless, although her appearance wasn’t ragged like most of the homeless people I met on the street. Maybe she was just a traveler who had recently come into town and hadn’t arranged for a hotel yet. She seemed kind of lost to me. It’s amazing the things you tell yourself when you just can’t embrace the truth. It’s easy to fit nice little explanations into our narrow worldview and believe something even when it doesn’t quite match. I absolutely did not want to think of any less desirable explanations. Either I was crazy or she was, and neither explanation was very appealing.

  My Aunt Marie was a hoot, but she had several screws loose and I’d heard that mental illness was genetic. I sure didn’t want to go there. It was a lot safer to believe that Celeste was an odd duck needing my help than that I was following in my Aunt’s looney footsteps.

  I didn’t care if Celeste was some kind of escaped mental health patient. She didn’t seem dangerous to me so I just convinced myself she was harmless. Besides, Aunt Marie was my favorite Aunt. She was the only person who could consistently get me to climb out of my cave and do crazy shit with her—like make sandcastles in the pouring rain.

  “How long do you plan on staying in Roslyn?” I asked.

  “As long as it takes,” she answered cryptically.

  Okay, I really wanted to help this woman, but she wasn’t making it easy for me. It was a surprise to me when I blurted out, “Come on, if I can’t go to your ship, then you’ll just have to establish temporary residence with me. My place is not big or anything, but I have a guest bedroom and there’s plenty of room for one more. Besides, having someone to talk to at night could be an adventure.”

  “I do have a place to rest, but I would enjoy spending more time with you. Are you sure this is not an inconvenience or against some rule?”

  I really wanted this woman to stay with me. I didn’t care if I might be enabling her delusions. It never hurt Aunt Marie. I blushed. “No, Celeste, I would really like you to come stay with me for as long as you want.”

  “Will you be able to let me read the two books you’ve chosen?” she asked.

  “Sure. You can select two more. I already have one checked out, so with the additional two books, that will add up to the five I can check out. What else would you like to explore about Earth?”

  “I would very much like to know more about ancient civilizations.”

  I grinned. This was another favorite subject of mine. “Oh, I love learning about ancient civilizations.”

  I walked over to another aisle and plucked two of my favorite books from the shelf. I showed her the books and she smiled and nodded. I headed to my desk to check out the four books I’d selected for Celeste. I typed my selections into the computer. I didn’t need to record Sydney’s book because it was the fifth book I’d checked out. No one needed to know I was secretly reading the book. I glanced at my watch and was pleased that I could legitimately leave without feeling like I was shirking my duties.

  My little cottage was walking distance from work. I grabbed my jacket from the back of the chair and walked to the front door of the library. Celeste followed without saying another word. After I locked the door, we walked side by side for two blocks until we approached my house.

  †

  I loved my little A-frame home. It reminded me of a ski chalet. It was only twelve hundred square feet, but the rustic nature suited my personality. A little rough around the edges, just like me, a socially awkward teen that’d turned into a recluse. I didn’t have the spit and polish that Sydney had, or even something remotely close to it.

  Gizmo, my cat, was peering through the front window. Although I couldn’t hear her meowing a hello; as soon as I unlocked my front door, she scrambled to greet me. She was more like a dog than a cat.

  Celeste followed me into the house and Gizmo gave her a greeting too, “Meow.”

  “Cat?” She leaned down and stroked Gizmo’s silky fur.

  I wished I were Gizmo right about now.

  Celeste chuckled.

  “Meet Gizmo, my cat. She’s a little hussy. She’ll cozy up to just about anyone if you keep petting her. Unlike most domestic cats, Gizmo never met a person she didn’t like. I don’t think she has a bit of independence or aloofness in any of her cells.”

  Celeste smiled. “She is a beautiful cat, like her mother.”

  No doubt my face was bright red again. I had to change the subject. “Um, do you have extra clothes or anything? Maybe a travel bag stashed somewhere?”

  I noticed she carried a small backpack and I thought that was kind of odd because she definitely looked like a purse woman. Elegant women usually didn’t add a backpack as a fashion accessory.

  “I have limited Earth clothing, but…” She unzipped her backpack and pulled a wad of cash that would choke an elephant. Holding it out she said, “I believe I can use this paper to obtain more.”

  I hadn’t really noticed her clothing before because I was too busy drooling over her lavender eyes. I scrutinized her outfit and quickly assessed how expensive her black pants and tailored silk shirt looked. The clothes fit her slim physique like a second skin. I admired a nice body as much as everyone else does, but it’s always a person’s eyes and their smile that sucks me in. In that respect, Celeste had pretty much everyone else beat.

  “I’m sure we can get
you more clothes tomorrow. I don’t even want to know where you got the cash. Lucky for you I’m off on Saturdays and can take you shopping. My car’s not much, but it will get us to the store and back.” I recalled her ship comment. “I’m guessing, besides your ship, you don’t really have a different mode of transportation.”

  I was proving to her that I could joke around just like everyone else. At least I preferred that notion to the other less acceptable one that I was feeding her delusion.

  “Thank you, Bella. You are a kind and gracious host.”

  “I’m not much of a cook, but I can whip us up some dinner if you’d like.” Actually, I am a pretty good cook, but no one likes a braggart so I chose not to share that fact.

  Celeste tilted her head and frowned. “You have to whip your food before serving it?”

  I laughed, thinking she was joking with me. “Funny. No I don’t even eat red meat, so I hope you don’t mind a vegetarian meal.”

  “I would love to try your plant varieties,” she said.

  “Okay spaghetti squash it is with a nice red sauce. I’ll fix us some arugula salad with craisens and goat cheese. That should complete the meal. Would you like a glass of wine?” I asked.

  “Oh yes. I am not supposed to try the wine, but I have wanted to taste this beverage ever since I read about it.”

  I put my finger to my lips. “Hmm, what should I choose? I’m sorry I’m not a huge wine connoisseur so I don’t really pay attention to what wine pairs well with pasta. I don’t really drink a lot of red wines, but I’ve read that Merlot goes well with red sauce so let’s try that.” I knew I was thinking out loud, but Celeste didn’t seem to mind about my confession regarding wines.

  I pulled a 2008 Merlot from Cave B out of my mini wine refrigerator and retrieved my birthday indulgence, an electric wine opener. I always seemed to get bits of cork inside the bottle whenever I tried using the more conventional wine openers—not that I had much experience. I saw this gadget in a kitchen store and had to have it. It was a ridiculous purchase because I rarely had company and almost never opened any of the bottles of wine I had stacked in my closet and in the special wine cooler. I’d opened maybe three bottles of wine in my lifetime, except for the occasional wine I opened while cooking, all for my family. I had hoped that one day I would have a reason to entertain, and now I did.

  Zzzzzzzz

  The electric corkscrew buzzed as the cork magically rose inside the gadget and then distended back down. I set the bottle on the center island in my kitchen to let the wine breathe because I’d read that’s what you’re supposed to do with reds. I never needed more than four wine glasses. I pulled two of them from the cabinet and set them beside the Merlot.

  Celeste was standing in my kitchen watching me and I felt like an idiot because I hadn’t even invited her to sit down and relax.

  “Celeste, I’m sorry, why don’t you take a load off?” I pointed to the bar stool next to the butcher-block island where the wine was breathing its way to an acceptable taste.

  “What load would you like to me take and where would you like it?” she asked.

  I chuckled. She really did have a good sense of humor. Maybe I could learn something from her. Yep, I continued my rationalization that her peculiar comments were all part of her incredible sense of humor.

  “Go ahead and sit down,” I directed.

  She set her backpack next to the barstool, sat down, and watched me as I pulled out ingredients from my cupboards and clipped some herbs from the potted plants along my windowsill. The sauce was easy enough. All I needed to do was open up some canned tomatoes, crush some garlic, and add the wine and other fresh herbs. I tossed the ingredients into a large sauté pan and filled up a large pot with hot water. After placing the water and sauce on the stove to heat them both up, I turned to look at my guest.

  I started getting a little nervous because she seemed to scrutinize my every move. I wondered why she appeared so focused on me. I normally fade into the background and the only time anyone ever bothered with me was to engage in a little all-American bullying. As an adult I’m now universally ignored, but as an adolescent I was the perfect lightning rod for teenage taunting with my coke bottle glasses, and braces complete with full headgear. Around the age of fifteen, I finally convinced my mom to let me wear contacts and my braces were also history, but that didn’t matter to those who’d already pegged me as the enemy.

  It was never a good idea to handle a large knife when I was nervous. I tend to slice things not meant to be sliced—like my fingers. I would have to be extra careful about cutting up the spaghetti squash lest I carve up my hand. I carefully quartered the winter vegetable and then tossed it into the water without bothering to wait for it to boil.

  I figured the wine had breathed enough and, if it hadn’t, I hoped Celeste wouldn’t notice. I needed a drink to calm my nerves. I poured the wine into our glasses, handed her a glass, and held mine up to meet hers.

  “Cheers,” I said.

  She tilted her head, but didn’t bring her glass up to mine. “Is there a competition we are cheering for?” she asked.

  I chuckled. “Come on, just touch your glass to mine so I can finally gulp this wine down. You’re making me nervous, you know.”

  She brought her glass to mine, tapped it, and then watched as I took a big swallow. She followed my lead and took an extra-large swig and then immediately starting coughing.

  I reached around to pat her back gently. “Are you all right? I don’t think Merlot is meant to be guzzled. Try sipping it. I know I’m a terrible role model, but I tend to consume alcohol more rapidly whenever I’m uncomfortable.”

  Celeste touched my arm and that sense of peace I was beginning to attribute to her touch flooded me again. She sipped her wine and nodded. “This has a nice flavor. I think I will like trying more wine. There are many varieties, yes?”

  “Oh yes, there are. It all depends on the type of grapes used, where they are grown, and who the winemaker is. The results are dramatically different. Making wine is a little bit art and a little bit science. Excuse me while I finish making dinner. Why don’t you take your wine and relax in the living room.” I pointed to the couch several feet away.

  “I cannot assist you in any way? If you demonstrate a task, I am able to replicate the movements.”

  “No, please, go sit on the couch and relax. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”

  She nodded and headed to the couch.

  While I finished making dinner, I stole a few glances and saw how Gizmo, the little hussy, crawled into Celeste’s lap and made herself comfortable. I could hear her loud purr from several feet away. I quickly tossed some arugula, blueberries, craisens, goat cheese, and cashews into a large bowl and grabbed my homemade salad dressing. My nephew always joked that it was like liquid gold because it was the best he’d ever tasted. I usually traveled to Leavenworth, Washington, to buy the special balsamic vinegar and olive oil. This particular batch was a combination of cranberry walnut balsamic vinegar and blood orange olive oil. It was by far my favorite. I wanted to impress Celeste.

  Celeste was humming and I swear, combined with Gizmo’s purr, it almost sounded like they were in harmony. I hated to interrupt, but dinner was finally ready.

  “Okay it’s ready, but don’t let Gizmo con you into feeding her. She’s a squash addict and she loves my red sauce. We can eat here in my tiny dining room.”

  Celeste approached the table and glanced at the two place settings. “You don’t let Gizmo eat with you?”

  I laughed. “Well, I don’t set a plate at the table for her, but I guess she does kind of wiggle her way onto my lap at dinnertime, and I relent a little as I feed her table scraps. I know I shouldn’t, but she’s just so darned cute. I try not to feed her too much people food because it’s really not good for her.”

  “She is a lovely companion. Her spirit is pure and she is very fond of you.”

  I waited until she sat down and then I brought over the salad,
sauce, bowl of squash, and grated Romano cheese. I’d already placed the bottle of wine on the table. I pointed to the food. “Dig in. I’m not very formal, so you don’t need to follow any strict ceremony here.”

  “Do I need to dig under there to harvest the food?” she asked as she pointed to the bowl of squash.

  She was such a jokester. I laughed again. “Here, I’ll dish it up for you.”

  We finished the bottle of wine and, because I wasn’t used to entertaining anyone, my eyelids began to droop. I figured it was time to head off to bed. Besides, tomorrow would probably be a long day of shopping and touring Celeste around, and I wanted to be a good host.

  I motioned for Celeste to follow me, pulled out a fresh towel, and dug in my guest bathroom drawer to find a new toothbrush for her to use. Fortunately, I had several in various drawers left over from my bi-annual visits to the dentist, along with multiple small tubes of toothpaste. I don’t know why I kept them. I suppose I thought it would be wasteful to toss them out. I’d already located a t-shirt, some shorts, and a pair of extra sweats, which I laid out on the bed for her. I didn’t know exactly what she had in her backpack, so I figured I’d better equip her with everything she might need.

  Celeste seemed to be dragging as well. I don’t think she was used to drinking alcohol and was probably a bigger lightweight than I was. It’s not like she was drunk or anything, but I could tell that it affected her. She got a dopey look on her face and giggled a lot during and after dinner. We talked mostly about nerdy things like the Earth’s geology and ancient myths, but she added her unique sense of humor to the discussion and that caused me to giggle along with her.

  I led her to the guest bedroom after showing her the bathroom. “If you need anything at all, my bedroom is just one door down. Sweet dreams, Celeste.”

  She smiled and bid me goodnight.

  When I settled into my bed, I let my mind wander—fantasize actually—that Celeste would knock on my door in the middle of the night. Then one thing would lead to another, and we’d end up making mad, passionate love. Of course I knew that would never happen, but a girl can dream. I closed my eyes and I’m sure I sported a smile on my face all night long.