
##4076155 Editor 's Note : To stay current with the climbing populace , we occasionally have field reporters observe and report on climber behavior . Recently , we sent an intrepid contributing editor ( CE ) to Shelf Road , a popular limestone sport destination in southern Colorado . Although he went missing under suspicious circumstances , we were able to recover his notes and tape recorder some weeks bter , scattered across the hillside . With these , we reconstructed the day 's events . OUR REPORTER ARRIVED ON A CROWDED MARCH WEEKEND , settling into a hollow below a pin tree 100 feet from the cliff to document the dozens of craggers . The day progressed predictably -with standard-issue hanging , Beta-spraying , and snacking- until around 1:30 p.m. , when a booming voice sounded from the trait : a certain " Daddy , " announcing his presence , his terrified bottle-blonde " Babydoll " in tow . For reasons that will become clear , our observer was hesitant to leave his hiding place . But he could see through the trees that Daddy had a stickdip @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , frosted hair , and " muscle fat , " while Babydoll had outsized artificial breasts , booty shorts , nd a garish slab of make-up . Daddy had also driven his jacked-up conversion van along the blocked-off grade to the old parking lot , running over the " Voluntary Road Closure " signs . A thorough analysis has revealed that our ill-fated reporter chanced upon America 's most horrible sport-climbing couple . Here we document in chronological order , highlights from our CE 's two hours of tape recordings so you can contact the proper authorities should you encounter these specimens . We have also applied with the local naturalhistory society to name this new species : Cragus Ignoramus Dooshbagus ( Americanus ) . Daddy real name unknown : Hey , Babydoll , Daddy thinks we should safe-rope up a nice 5.9 to warm up . Daddy 's got this one on lockdown because he uses it all the time to get ready for the twelvers and thirteeners . So shake that pretty tail and flake down the rope right here . Babydoll real name unknown : But , Daddy @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ besides , there 's people on this route already . Daddy : Do n't sweat it , doll . We 'll tie up Adolf next to their stuff as a little hint to get movin ' . Then I 'll just stick-rope the up-clippers and make you a nice , safe free-line through the top hooks . Daddy just wants you to be safe , Babydoll . Daddy thinks maybe first-roping 's a little too dangerous for you on 5.9 . Babydoll : OK , Daddy . Whatever you say . Daddy : That 's right , doll-Daddy knows best . Journal Entry , 1:37 p.m. ( excerpted from our CE 's field notebook ) : " Daddy short-chains his beast to a tree three feet from the belayer below the 5.9 . Belayer tries to sidestep the snarling dog and move the backpacks while keeping a brake hand on the rope . Daddy pre-hangs his rope and draw on the first bolt of the already-occupied route . Climber lowers off nearly atop pit bull . Confrontation ensues . Original party hastily packs up and departs . " Daddy : That @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ! This here 's Daddy 's warm-up and ai n't nobody gon na tell Daddy different . Daddy 's been warming up here for years . Hell , Daddy mighta even installed them top hooks himself . Entry , 1:45 p.m. to 4:07 p.m. : " Daddy spends the next two-plus hours stick-clipping his way up the 40-foot route , frequently fumbling quickdraws , the stick , and doing about one in five moves free . The climb appears to be a pocket ladder with straightforward reaches between deep solution holes . When Daddy latches a pocket , he makes pull-up moves , his feet dragging against the rock . Each time he hangs , he screeches , I said ' Take ! " you f-king whore ! ' before again becoming apologetic and saying he just wants his ' doll to be safe ' and that just gets a little scared sometimes . ' " At the bigger , hueco-sized pockets . Daddy kicks his feet into the air , screams ' Footloosin ' ! ' , and then whoops at Babydoll before demanding that she ' Reel in the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Eventually , Daddy reaches the anchors , where he clips in with a daisy chain , threads the rappel rings , whoops again , and tells Babydoll the line 's fixed and ready for down-roping/ Babydoll lowers Daddy , and they eat Cheetos , drink Dr. Pepper , and French-kiss , discarding their trash in the cactus . " Daddy : OK , up you go , doll . Now do n't out-climb Daddy ! ( Just kidding . ) You know how Daddy does n't like it when you climb better . ( Just kidding ) . Daddy had to 10-rest it , but maybe you can do it nice with a one-rester and make Daddy proud . Babydoll : I 'll sure try , Daddy . I always feel safer knowing Daddy put the rope through the top hooks . Journal Entry , 4:30 p.m. : " Babydoll does n't look challenged by the but hangs a few times anyway , which seems to please Daddy . As she climbs , Daddy yells up a continuous stream of Beta . Key phrases include : ' Feet loose ! ' @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ' Reachhang it ! ' ' Gasto-cling ! ' ' Knee-block the fingerhutl ' etc . " Since much of Daddy 's logorrhea is drowned out by Adolf 's incessant barking , I 'll record some of Daddy 's physical characteristics . I 've used my binoculars for a closer look : *Daddy has ice-bfue eyes one might call ' lifeless ' or ' sociopaihic , ' *When not climbing . Daddy puts on a No Fear hoodie. *When climbing . Daddy wears a Tour de Pump muscle shirt At what he deems to be the ' free-cruxins , ' he 'll remove the shirt and tie it doo-rag style over his head for a move or two . * Daddy has both ears pierced with multiple hoop earrings. * Daddy 's tribal armband tattoos seem to be of a Native American pattern enclosed in rings of blue-inked barbed wire sitting atop a flaming-eyed skull with hieroglyphs on both sides . * Daddy is between the ages of 28 and 54 , indeterminate . * Daddy wears knock-off Terminator-style sunglasses with a skulland-crossbones pattern along the stems . * Daddy spends @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ he refers to as his ' Peace Keepers ' ) than watching his climber . He also has an odd fascination with his crotch , framed as it is by the leg loops of his harness . * Daddy chain-smokes. * Babydoll is basically the female version of Daddy . " ONCE BABYDOLL COMPLETES the climb . Daddy gives her what he calls ' Daddy 's Special Speed Lower/ and she smacks the ground with an audible thump ... Daddy : Sorry about that , doll You got ta have faster reflexes like Daddy when the ground comes rushing up at you . But Daddy got you back on the ground sooner so he could have himself a little sugar ! Babydoll : You hurt me , Daddy . Daddy : Daddy did n't mean to . Daddy 's real sorry , doll . Daddy would never do anything to hurt you or your fine fanny . Journal Entry , 4:42 p.m. ( final entry ) : " I could continue to observe this horrific spectacle , but I believe I have enough data for a preliminary assessment-plus , Adolf , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ . " I can only hope that these were singular specimens and not a new breed of climbing couple , though I 'm alarmed to realize I 've seen incipient shades of these noxious traits in my own and others ' behavior at the cliffs . But surely it 's impossible that such couples have proliferated across the American crag-scape . Think what it would do to our collective morale . Think what it means for our sport : that the vandals have invaded the temple . That the ' Jerry Springer ' -esque hordes now frequent the cliffs , and climbing 's not so special or counterculture ! anymore . That climbers are possibly just as shitty as the rest of the human race . The thought is just too depressing . For now , I must leave . " Crikey , I think they heard me turning off the tape recorder . He- they -Daddy has spotted me . What is he taking from his pack ? ! He 's coming . The dog , the dog is. .. 1-OH , WHAT THE ... ! 
##4076158 " Cadmium : a family of yellow to red colors , renowned for their brilliance and lightfastness . First discovered outside of Thebes , Greece in 1817 . Named for the founder of Thebes , the ill-fortuned Cadmus . Due to their toxicity , cadmiums are being replaced by azo yellows and reds in artists ' materials . " -The Artist 's Color Book LLOYD EXPECTED ME AT the gallery . I hated to go . I promised I would . I needed the cash during probate . The painting lay on the kitchen table by an old journal . There was one black garbage bag left from the trash to be hauled off . So much junk . My mother never threw anything away . After placing the painting in the bag , I went downstairs . It was pouring . I hesitated at the door . Moon-colored leaves from the spindly maple splotched the sidewalk in front of our three-story brownstone . The streetlights made the drumming rain sparkle . Cursing , I ran for the subway holding the painting over my head as protection , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ . I pushed my way out at 57th Street , two blocks from the gallery that showed mother . More running . Shit . Water trickled cold tracks between my shoulder blades . The sign on the gallery door announced a private function . Invitation only . In my paint-spattered leather jacket , I did n't look like anyone who should be at a private function . Servers in black and white held trays set with glasses of wine and expensive tidbits . Julia Katz , my mother 's closest friend , beckoned through the rain-tracked glass . She pulled me into the antiseptic showspace . " Caddie child . Come in . Lloyd 's been going crazy waiting . Is that it ? " Julia 's pointed chin dug into my shoulder as she hugged me , ignoring my wet . Her perfume , Poison , smothered me in a memory of Julia and my mother laughing in our dirty kitchen , a bottle of wine between them , talking about things I could n't understand . My mother 's pigment-stained fingers tapping out secret messages on the table . @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ They were always talking about things I could n't understand . Lloyd 's pink face gleamed with goodwill . His hands shook as he accepted the garbage bag . Whispers circulated as guests explained to each other who I was . Daughter , you know ... the unknown painting ... have her mother 's talent ? ... did n't know Cassandra died . Screw them . Julia twined her arm in mine and snagged two glasses from a passing server . " The wine 's crap . It does n't matter . Drink up , baby girl . You 're paying for this . " We trailed Lloyd to a spot-lit location . He reverently removed the painting from the plastic bag , then placed it on the wall where the lights drenched it . Beneath it he affixed the pasteboard sign , CADMIUM , OIL ON LINEN BY CASSANDRA ROSS . Desire breathed out in his sighs . He stroked the canvas 's paint-splotched sides . You could still see her smeary fingerprints on the folded cloth edges . The paying guests herded in front of the piece . I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in whispers . Art critics had theorized about it for years . No one could view it unless I permitted it . Until tonight , I had always turned them down . It was mine , and mine alone . It was Cadmium , and it was legend . I thought I should burn it . When she died , I swore I 'd use it for firewood . It showed a beach laced by a strip of water with waves that seemed to roll . You could practically feel the sun crisp your skin . A little yellow boat had been dragged up on shore and footsteps dug into the sand until they disappeared behind dune grass . The images were razor sharp ; real life was n't as clear . The path at the top of the dunes wandered into a mossy wood . It was hard to see under the trees , and believe me , I 'd tried . I wondered what happened in the woods . Perhaps that 's what made me shove it in a corner with its face to the wall . It was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ could n't destroy it , but that did n't mean I had to look at it . Julia wandered me around the gallery . " When Lloyd told me you agreed to show the painting , I wondered what you were thinking . The painting 's never been in public . " " She did n't leave anything , you know . Just trash . What am I going to live on ? Maybe this will start a revival . You know she has n't shown in years . " Her lips thinned . " I 'd help you . I was just thinking what a risk you 're taking . " " I need the money . Lloyd 's paying well . " Lloyd used this one-night showing to display the other of my mother 's paintings he still possessed , like jewels in fine settings . I 'd seen them in the mine of my mother 's studio . The pictures glowed with that unique fire she provided . A preternatural beauty that hooked your soul . A second Turner , some said . A feminist Caravaggio . Her @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Julia , always Julia . Made famous in paint . A smiling sphinx . A New York houri . Her lynx eyes holding unknown truths , and with her , so many men . Cassandra 's Adonises . One of them was my father . I have no idea which one . As we paced , Julia nodded to the sharply dressed people , promising dinner here , a phone call there . I 'd forgotten she was a somebody . Married to an important someone . " What are you going to do now ? " she asked . " Finish school here . Clean up the house . I knew she was messy , but my God , the place is disgusting . " My wine was red . It was impossible not to admire the color . The color of garnets . Julia said , " Cassie lived by her own rules . Her last days , she only wanted to paint . Nothing else mattered . She was in such pain . " She drank her straw-tinted wine like water . Maybe it was to her . @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ? I found an old painting journal . It was in bad shape , but still legible . " Julia snatched another glass of wine . The server offered one to me , too . I took it . He had pretty eyes . Lloyd was doing business with a bald Asian man . That was good . " She meant to . " Julia sloshed her wine , as if that would improve it . " Then you were born and babies change things . " She shrugged her scarlet , silk-draped shoulders . " She started on the Cloud Set series instead . " We 'd circumnavigated the gallery . The freshly painted white walls bounced the chatter of the carefully dressed guests . The noise rattled in my head along with the garnet wine . We stood before Cadmium . Julia said , " When she painted this she was round as an orange with you kicking inside . She told me about the Rare Earth series , but she only painted Cadmium . She got that wicked smile , you know what I mean . " I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ particularly good Christmas present , or when a new man came into her life . She got it when she loved a painting , before she forgot the painting in making the next one . Julia tugged my tattooed earlobe . " She was a mystery to me too , Caddie . I loved her . A genius . She held nothing back , ever . " Julia scanned the painting . " I remember the beach being bigger . I think the water was more pthalo green , and the woods , did there used to be woods in this picture ? I ca n't remember . " I gave her a look . " It 's Cadmium . What do you think ? " WHEN YOU GROW UP , you have your own life . You do n't think about your parent 's friends . You 're busy with what you want to do . Julia phoned occasionally , but we moved in different circles . She made a name as my mother 's high priestess and her husband was important . It was n't my world . I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ invested , or mortgaged , or something . We did the things young married couples do . We went to good shows and had select parties in the brownstone house . When Julia called me , of course I was glad to see her . She 'd practically been my aunt . Besides , Dev said knowing Julia and Frank was good for his career . I had n't thought of that . Julia wanted to borrow Cadmium . She was opening her own art gallery , separate from Lloyd . A display of Cadmium would guarantee success . Age had made Julia more birdlike . It had made me more contented . I brought her up to the old brownstone 's third-floor studio . It was tidy . No jars of pigment spilled across tables in streams of color . No sticky swathes of varnish dripped from the shelves . No cont crayons rolled along the floor , to be found later , broken-backed and reproachful . I 'd had the floors sanded to remove the stains . The room smelled of clean earth . Julia sat in my studio @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ slapped a lump of clay on my wheel . She said , " If you put the house in both your names , he 'll have a right to half of it . This place is a piece of art history , you should be careful . " The clay slab was cool under my fingers . I kept a steady push on the pedal to keep the wheel turning evenly . The pot was coming along nicely . It had a good form . The utilitarian comforted me . Julia did n't know Dev . He was a good man . " Of course you can borrow the painting . You were my mother 's friend . My husband would n't do that . " Julia crossed her legs . " At least arrange it so he only gets any postmarital value . Property in this part of the city has gone way up . Think about it . Are you showing any of your work ? " She stood , flattening her dark skirt along her thighs to walk about . She drummed her fingers on the shelves holding @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ work . Julia loved my mother 's paintings . Fragments of sky and sea . Secret words . Splintered music . These were nothing like that . Julia picked up a rounded shape . " I like the female features of these constructions . What attracted you to pottery ? " My fingers slipped into the clay . I spent a few moments repairing the error before I answered . I thought about what I liked . The rootedness . The common voice of clay . Pottery reaches into civilization 's earliest moments . I feel I can touch the first people who molded a shape from sticky red stuff . I sense their art . When you work in clay you speak to earth and fire . " Pottery is practical . And it 's not painting . " I snapped my lips shut . Tipping a round-bellied pot back in place , Julia walked to the corner where Cadmium rested . I pinched in the clay , shaping it into a new form as an idea crystallized under my hands . The potter 's wheel whirred as I watched @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ mind : Julia and my mother kissing a man by the window . Alberto ? Frank ? Their hands smoothing the line of his jaw to his shoulder , down his muscled chest , the three of them whispering , until they spotted me in the doorway . How old was I ? Nine ? Ten ? " Have you looked at this painting since its last showing ? " Out the window behind her were silhouettes of water towers , fire escapes , laundry fluttering like Buddhist prayer rags . I could tell from the corner of my eye she was tilting Cadmium to catch its glitter . The path through the woods was forked . The sky had darkened , giving the colors of the meadow flowers a violent intensity . There were small animals too . I tried to identify them . Squirrels ? Rabbits ? Once I thought I recognized a fox . " No . I put it away . I 've been too busy for Mother 's old things . I threw out all her stuff . " " Pity . " I heard Julia @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ " Some art student could 've used her paints . You probably could 've sold her brushes on eBay to a collector . You 're invited to the opening , of course . You 're always welcome . The beach is gone now , did you know that ? I can hardly see it , except in the distance . " My attention dropped from work to Julia . I was ruining this pot . Damn . I 'd have to scrap it . " Really ? Was there much of a beach ? I 'll pass on the opening . Dev and I are pretty busy in the evenings . Are n't you taking a risk ? In showing it , I mean . " " What color are the Mona Lisa 's eyes ? I could n't tell you . If anyone says anything , I 'll just smile and make cryptic comments . After all , it 's only been seen the once , years ago at Lloyd 's . Are you sure you wo n't come ? " Now I was just pretending to work . At @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ . " I 'm sure . I 'm glad you called , though , and we 'll talk more when you return it . You 'll have to tell me how things go . " The warmth of her hand on my arm startled me . Julia said , " I 'll let myself out . Try painting them , and maybe add some glazes . Do n't bite me . Just try it and see . It 's good work . Your mother would be proud of you . I 'm proud of you . Do n't be such a stranger . You 're the last breath of Cassandra Ross , and that 's a dear and precious thing . Think about my advice . " She squeezed my arm and was gone . I heard her clopping down the stairs , then the dim rattle of the door . I wished for music to drive away the ghosts . How had my mother stayed on alone ? I slumped the pot . The clay forms stood in their serried ranks . I considered them with color . Earth tones @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ . I had to hand it to Julia . All those years of being with my mother . She had the eye . I needed a little cobalt , some umbers , and of course , orange and red . The cadmiums . That night Dev and I agreed to sell the house . It was too big for just the two of us . We 'd move to Jersey . A third-floor studio was impractical for pottery anyway and the money would help him out in the deal he was working on . We were married and that meant we were partners . THERE 'S NO PLACE like Vermont . It has an edge , just like blue M &Ms; taste better than the other colors . Every fall , the dying leaves shout in my colors . Cadmium orange . Cadmium red . Cadmium yellow . Sometimes I go out in the yard of my house in Colchester , rake the rufous leaves of the big sugar maple into a pile , then roll in them . It gives me a witchy look when I teach my classes at @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ my frizzled hair . Fortunately , I do n't think anyone cares what the sculpture teacher looks like and I do n't care if I get tenure , so everyone 's happy . Except Julia . She was n't satisfied with her " I told you so " moment . She said my mother wanted me to have the brownstone . It was wrong for it to be sold . It was a , what did she call it ? An historical artifact , and now it was lost . Even though annoying , Julia was helpful . Her husband was able to pull enough important-people strings to keep Dev from escaping with every penny , and property in Vermont is relatively cheap . At least it is if you 're buying a rundown farmhouse with a sugar maple out front and a barn that can be turned into a sculpture studio . Julia also discovered some drawings Mother made of me in childhood . She said they should be mine . I sold them , every one . The Cadmium series . For more money than Dev will ever see @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ My vessels , or rather Cadmium Ross 's post-feminist explorations of power in a gender-transitional world , which is what Art in America calls them , have their own reputation . Occasionally I flip Cadmium over . I see that I 'm past the fork in the road . The path leads through a field of ripening wheat . Which is appropriate since I 'm pregnant . I never asked about my father . I doubt Cassandra knew . I know who my baby 's father is . It does n't matter . He has another family . Besides , I 'm a post-feminist explorer in a gender-transitional world . It 's not his business . Gravel crunches in the driveway . Julia promised she 'd come see me . I open the door . Her skin has the parchment look of one gone old , or very sick . She must read it on my face . Julia says , " I 've brought you survival supplies from civilization . Decent coffee . The art books you wanted . I asked them to put together a Care package from Zabar @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ . I 'm tired . " When I come back with the bags , she 's sitting at the checkered table , sun warming her hands . Julia says , " This is a beautiful place . Your mother was never neat . If something fell on the floor , she 'd leave it there forever . Maybe she knew her time would be short . I do n't know . But you , you look wonderful . Teaching agrees with you , Caddie . And congratulations on your show at the New Museum . It was a little out there for my taste , but I 'm old-fashioned . It was very well received . " Her eyes are polished amber embedded in a yellow face . They glisten with intelligence . She 's the last connection with my past . I look at her and see a distant land where two women laugh around a bottle of wine , talking of shows and handsome men while I play with oil sticks at their feet . " Julia , I 'm pregnant . I 'll have a baby in the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , you know , because of the chemicals . I 'm blogging and thinking about some big projects after he or she is born . Maybe some earthworks . Maybe something conceptual . " A shadow crosses Julia 's face . " Wonderful news , Caddie . Wonderful . I 'm happy for you . The father ? " I brush the air . " Who needs fathers ? Where was my father ? " Julia closes her eyes . " The painting ? Do you still have Cadmium ? " I take her hand . " Come with me . " We go upstairs to the baby 's room . I hired my neighbor , Felix , who 's a carpenter , to build me a custom crib from native birch . It glows pale gold in the afternoon sun . Cadmium hangs above it squarely in the light from the bedroom window . In the landscape the beach is invisible . The woods are a green haze on the horizon . Glorious butterflies speckle the field . Rising cumulous clouds give a late-summer air . Julia covers her mouth @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ . " " She never left me . " I place my acid-stained hand on my belly . " Just as I 'll never leave my baby . She put herself into Cadmium . At first I was angry with her . I did n't think she loved me . Not like she did you . I did n't understand . I was wrong . She 's been with me every step of the way . That 's why she never finished the rest of the Rare Earth series . " " I 'm so sorry . " Julia 's eyes redden . " I 'm dying . They say there 's nothing they can do . Caddie , I 'm so sorry . " She sat in the rocking chair I 'd bought for me and the baby . " I loved your mother , from the second we met at art school . We connected , like magnets . Cassie believed that an artist was her art . It was n't just form and color , painting was life . It was breath itself . " I told her @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ her paint . She swore that grinding her own pigment was the only way to get such colors . I 'll never forget the day she showed me some sapphires she bought , sapphires , for God 's sake ! She ground them down for a particular blue . Her methods killed her . They killed her baby . " Lightheaded , I sat on the little stool I 'd put in the room . " What do you mean ? " " We both got pregnant . It was okay , until Frank wanted to marry me . He said my baby had to go . Instead , I moved in with Cassie . " She was working on the Rare Earth series . She lived it . You know what she was like . She became covered with paint and pigment . She was more color than woman . Cassie obsessed over her work . She painted Cadmium first , while I watched , both of us big as houses . One day her baby stopped moving . She went crazy . She painted Cobalt . She painted Viridian @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was dead . Finally I got her drunk . Frank helped me take her to a hospital so it would be over . The stress put me into labor . " Tears stream down my cheeks . My fingernails carve half moons into my palms . " And the baby ? " " She worked with that dead thing inside . It had been gone for a long time , poisoning her mind . I gave her you . Cadmium . Frank and I married . He bought her that brownstone . " " My father ? " Julia 's yellow skin stretches over the bones of her face . Her lips tighten . Some things would not be spoken . " We were wild . " " The paintings ? Viridian , Cobalt ? " Now she weeps . " They were terrible pictures . No one could bear to look at them , to see what it was she saw . I burned them . It 's better they 're gone . " My face is wet . I try to feel pity for the dying woman across from @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ " Get out . " I press my palms into my eyes until I see crimson . I hear the chair creak as Julia pushes herself up . " I 'm sorry . The child broke me . We kept our secret . Your baby will never need anything . I 'll see to it . I always have . " Through the window , the late-afternoon light infuses the leaves with color . Cadmium orange , cadmium red , cadmium yellow . The house gets cold . Things will be different for me . My knees creak as I stand . The doctor said my joints would loosen . The last light dances across the painting . It 's changed . A viridian sea shimmers against the cobalt sky . A cadmium yellow boat sails against the waves . I ca n't tell where it 's going . White gulls dot the waves . From the empty shoreline an untrodden path leads through a tangled landscape . 
##4076167 MONDAY : WE SPENT THE WHOLE DAY unpacking our tea chests . Everyone seems to have suffered some loss : Edna found her grandmothers teapot smashed . I noticed that my musical saw was missing no doubt stolen by the so-called workers of Botmores Interplanetary Removals , PLC . Peregrine , our oldest , missed his acne medicine and his collection of early Bananarama records . The twins , Mandy and Jason , accuse me of having packed only one of the table tennis paddles . By the end of the day , we were all in a bad mood , discouraged . What a way to start off in our new home . The landscape does not help . All those beautiful red mountains with pink streaks may look lovely in the brochure , but in reality they look ugly and lumpy . Like upended baboons arses , Edna remarked . I agreed , and added that the big volcanic one reminded me of a baboon with piles . She said there was no need to be vulgar . If I was going to start making crude @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ pack my musical saw and go back to Earth . I said that I sincerely wished I could do just that . There were some tense moments and a few exchanges of harsh words . Still , we managed to get a fire going in the barbecue set , and after a supper of beans on toast followed by Instant Whip , we all felt much better . I called a family council round the smouldering fire . After all , I said , things are nt so bad . Weve got tools , we can always make new paddles for the table tennis . Weve got glue , we can mend the teapot . There are probably natural acne cures all about us , if only we look for them . I expect I can always order a new musical saw . So chin up , everyone . Peregrine sulked . What about my records ? I opined that such music was bad for his character anyway . Everyone else brightened up . The twins went off to look for an acne cure , they said , and Jason fell @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ . TUESDAY : The neighbours came to help us put up our new home . None too soon for me . Last night I discovered that Mars is alive with insect life , much of it blood-sucking . Weve all got mosquito-like bites . Its a mystery to me what all these mosquitoes lived on before people came here . Putting up a new home here is easier than it sounds , because virtually everything is prefabricated and self-raising . Still , our neighbours did help screw on the coach-lamps and install the musical door chimes . Everyone hereabouts seems to have these chimes . They can be programmed to play any one of a hundred popular tunes , but for some reason , everyone seems to prefer Loch Lomond . Not us . Ive decided well have something quite different , Colonel Bogey . The neighbours are not all wed hoped . There are Dick and Ida Twain , both of whom sell insurance , and their surly son , Zero . Zero is just Peregrines age , but somehow I do nt think theyll be friends . Perry is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ model aeroplanes , the Scouts , train-spotting while Zero is a shifty , seedy lout who seems to have but one interest , working on his hideous American car . He has dirty fingernails , and I would not be surprised to learn that he smokes . Then there are the Bleriots , Jack and Jenny . He works for the government , monitoring religious broadcasting I believe . Shes a guide on canal tours . They both seem very cheerful , good-natured people . Almost too much so . I wonder if they drink in secret . There is also an older couple , Harold and Denise Pratt . They run a novelty and gift shop , or should I say shoppe , in the High Street . Harold has evidently never got over being in the service . He asks everyone to call him Wing Commander , and he s very keen on civil defence . Offered to help us plan our shelter . I declined politely , saying we had quite enough to do without worrying about that . For one thing I had to teach the kids @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ . I do nt see why the council cant put up a fence or something what do we pay rates for ? Wing Commander Pratt persisted , however . I let him go on about his shelters for a few minutes , then I said , If they ever do bomb Mars which I very much doubt I just hope I am squarely in the middle of it , at Ground Zero . Who wants to survive a thing like that ? The Pratts went off in a huff . I wonder if it was they who nipped into our larder and made off with half a dozen fresh eggs and a tin of salmon . Someone did . WEDNESDAY : Jack Bleriot came over to help us set out the roses and the gnomes . He said , A word to the wise , squire . Lock up your larder . Certain items are worth their weight in radium out here you know . Like eggs ? I said , at once on my guard . Like tinned salmon ? Right . Tin of salmon fetches fifty quid on the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ are very buoyant too , ditto Marmite-flavored crisps . Ditto Boots beer kits . Really ? I said coldly . As for custard powder , you can name your own price , squire . I said , You seem to know all about it . Everyone does . You will too , once youve been here a few months . Oh and by the way , if you have a lot of duty-free to unload , just say the word . A lot of duty-free ? I was surprised at the idea . Of course not . We brought only our legal limit two bottles of South African sherry , twenty Peter Stuyvesants and a pair of Levi-style jeans made in Russia . He groaned . They never check , you know . You could have got away with a couple of cases of Hong Kong scotch , anyway . I was about to explain that I have never in my life found it necessary to get away with anything , nor break the rules of my King and Country . Indeed , I was the last person on Earth to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , because at that moment I was called away to fish Mandy out of the canal . THURSDAY : Peregrine is spending a lot of time with Zero Twain , though they obviously have nothing in common . The two of them spend hours pottering about with Zeros huge , vulgar American car . Its pink and purple and covered with chromium gewgaws , and when they start it up , the noise is equally hideous . I cant think what Perry gets out of it . He seems to have lost all interest in the Scouts . If only we had some trains he could spot ! Im worried about the lad . Mending the coronation teapot turns out to be a tougher task than Id anticipated . Its been in the family for generations dates clear back to the coronation of Charles III . We used to have the set of assassination mugs to go with it , but they all got chipped and I threw them out before they could harbour any germs . Later I learned that even chipped mugs were worth a small fortune . So @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ mend the pot , I took it round to the Pratts shoppe . Denise Pratt promised to try mending it . Splendid , I said . If you succeed , you might even try selling it for us , in your shoppe . The e isnt pronounced , she said . Its just shop . I know that , I was about to say , when she moved off to wait on another customer looking for Toby jug . Denise Pratt seems to have no sense of humour at all . Her husband , the Wing Commander , popped his head in , saw me and waved . Ah , there you are , Broxbum . Been meaning to show you my shelter . May as well have a squint at it while youre here . Here , give me a hand with this case of tins , will you ? I helped him carry the case down the ladder into a stuffy little cellar . Its very heavy , I said . What is it ? Water . Got it cheap , old man . Yank surplus , they practically @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ paying anything for water slightly risible , but said nothing . The dank little cellar turned out to be his shelter . It was equipped with folding cots , shelves , a radio , a chemical toilet and an enormous supply of toilet rolls . There was plenty of tinned food on the shelves , but no sign of my tinned salmon . I see youre fond of pineapple chunks , I said . They cost a pretty penny , old man , but its well worth it . If only I could lay hands on some custard powder .... He mused for a moment , then continued the guided tour , showing me an exercise bicycle , some handcuffs and sexual paraphernalia , which included several inflatable friends and a Teasmade . FRIDAY : Started my new job here as deputy assistant head controller in Department M/H/112 . What we are actually doing though I violate the Official Secrets Act by writing it down here we are designing a new set of postal codes for Mars . So far the Department has only got as far as M4Q H11R 16JKP @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ brought in to speed things along . The extra letters are nt actually necessary , but they do help create jobs at the post office . SATURDAY : My first day of rest . Took the family on a narrow boat along the Grand Martian Canal up as far as Baboon Piles Mountain . Had a quarrel with some ass at the lock . He kept insisting his boat had a right to go first just because it had arrived a few minutes before us . I pointed out that a narrow boat surely takes precedence over a hired rowboat . The man was completely unreasonable , so finally I let him have his childish way . Mandy fell into the water once , Jason twice , me once . Later we stopped for a cream tea rather expensive for tinned cream , I thought and we came home tired , sunburnt , mosquito-bitten , but happy . SUNDAY : No eggs for breakfast , because someone broke into our larder during the night and stole the last few . They also took our bottles of South African sherry , to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and buying an old American car to work on . I tried to turn the conversation to O-levels and his future . Gave up , finally , and instead read my way through a Rupert Murdoch Sunday paper . What a mess the Solar System is in ! I considered writing a letter to the editor , asking why his paper cant print some good news , something positive for a change . Colonel Bogey pierces my reverie . Two Jehovahs Witnesses at the door . I tell them politely that I am Church of Mars . After they go , I decide to change the door chime . Loch Lomond really does sound better . Back to the Sunday paper , I read a fascinating memoir by Virginia Sackville-Wests maids great-niece . Perhaps one day these humble jottings of my own will also find such immortality .... Found the musical saw ! It was in with the Christmas things , the crackers and packets of marzipan . I tune up , as the sun sinks behind the B.A.Mountains , and I play some eerie Martian Chronicles music . When I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ splash of one of the twins , falling in. 
##4076174 Ellie knocked on the door of her brother 's room and then took a step back and two to the side . At first she thought she need n't have bothered being cautious . When Jamie opened the door there were no mechanical monsters leaping out at her , there was just him . " I need your help , " she said . " It 's about Chestnut . She 's a horse . " " Really ? " Ellie saw something behind Jamie that looked like a mechanical hawk on a perch . It cocked its head to look at her . She shuffled sideways to put Jamie between her and it . " Chestnut is n't acting right . No one knows why . They 're going to destroy her if she goes on like this . You have to help me . I 'll do your chores for a week , if you do . " " A month . " " OK . " " Wow . You usually bargain . After school tomorrow then . " Chestnut was in a small paddock @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the empty pasture beyond . Two other horses grazed quietly on the other side of the paddock , making soft ripping sounds as their lips tore the long grass from the ground . " What 's it looking at ? " asked Jamie . " No one knows , " said Ellie . " Every morning when they let the horses out of the stables she comes to the fence and does this . She hardly eats . She does n't socialize with the other horses . No whinnying , grooming , or rubbing . If she gets any weirder - wood chewing , that kind of thing - they will put her down right away . Do you think she 's looking at something ? " " Could be . They have much better vision than humans . Let 's see . " " She 's a rare breed , Jamie , part Asian wild horse . And she 's beautiful . We have to save her . " Jamie was n't paying attention . Things without wires in them did n't interest him . He was extracting a helmet @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ followed by heavy wraparound goggles linked by cables to a rebuilt computer in the bag . He settled the goggles on his head and his face disappeared . " Image processing , " he mumbled to Ellie . " Now I 'm seeing what it sees . " Jamie went quiet , his head swinging from side to side . The two horses on the other side of the enclosure nickered softly and continued to munch hay . Chestnut did n't move . " Nothing , " Jamie said after two long minutes . " Look . " The goggles blotted out the world as Ellie peered through them . " The colors are weird , " she said . " And I can see behind me . " " Horses only see in two colors . Red and green look the same to them . And they see almost 360 degrees . Eyes on the side of the head you know . You 're seeing what it 's seeing . I 've done a scan of everything it can see from where it 's standing , especially where the visual @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ run the scan through some really good pattern recognition software . It 's not seeing anything out there but the usual . " He started to pack up his bag . " Please . They 're going to kill her if she does n't get better ! " " I can try listening . I ca n't do smell . Their sense of smell is better than ours too , but I do n't think it 's being cued by smell . " Ellie followed the direction of the horse 's eyes . Chestnut 's nostrils were still , her long red-brown face looking beyond the fence as if to some scene that only she could see . " I ca n't read her mind you know , " Jamie said , trying to help . " Are you sure ? " Ellie pleaded . " If anyone could , it would be you . " Two days later they were back at the paddock . Jamie had spent every non-school hour since their last visit in the workshop that was his room . " You know how Wii controllers work @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ behind them . " Silly stuff . If you want to play a game you should just play it , not pretend to play on some screen . " He looked crushed . She softened her tone . " But the Wii controllers are pretty smart , are n't they ? " she offered . " Absolutely - three axis accelerometers , vibration sensors , the works . But what we 're using today is next generation . " Since Jamie 's wireless power patents had been granted , and money had started pouring into his trust fund , he had acquired some remarkable connections for a 16-year-old boy . Still , Ellie had to stifle a giggle when she saw the ridiculous-looking hat he was holding . It hardly looked next generation to her . " Jamie . That 's just a hat . " " The hat is the mounting . " He pointed at a ring of black cubes and circuit boards running around the rim . " That 's the device . " " And . . . " " The new Wii 's read brain waves @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ as the basis for this . " " And . . . " " It wo n't read the horse 's mind but it should give us the flavor of its thoughts - some idea of why it 's acting like this . " Chestnut looked silly as Jamie put the straw hat on its head . He had even cut holes for the horse 's ears . She stared out patiently at nothing as Jamie slipped on a lightweight helmet and plugged its trailing cable into a huge thing that looked like three of his rebuilt computers joined into one . Suddenly , Jamie went still , staring off into the distance like Chestnut . Minutes passed . " Jamie . Are you OK ? " Should she take the helmet off his head ? Unplug the cable ? " I 'm fine , " he finally responded . His voice sounded thin and far away . He pulled off the helmet , turning to face Ellie . He was trying to cover the tears that were leaking from his eyes . She had never seen him cry before . @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I 'll have to take it back to the bench and tear it down . We can try again some other day . " Ellie could always tell when Jamie was lying . She snatched the helmet from him and jammed it onto her own head . Soft curtains of green fell through her mind and a feeling of loss overwhelmed her . She was virtually experiencing Chestnut 's feelings . Now she knew what was wrong with the horse . She closed her eyes and the green rippled like waves on the sea , or wind on grass , calling to her . She took a step forward , only remembering the electric fence when Jamie put a hand on her shoulder . The world was out there , beyond the fence , a world of endless grassland . Like Chestnut , she wanted to gallop through it , to live as the horse had been born to live . Jamie lifted the helmet off and abruptly Ellie was back in the warm spring sunshine , tears rolling down her face . " I do n't know why , " @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ wants to be somewhere else . " " She wants to be free , " whispered Ellie . 
##4076176 Scene 1 N1 : Ronnie and Jonah 's parents are divorced . Their mom has just driven them to their dad 's home , in a small beach town . Ronnie and Jonah are going to stay there for summer vacation . N2 : Ronnie is mad at her dad because of the divorce . She does n't want to stay with him . She storms out of the house and takes a walk down the beach . N1 : Ronnie walks past some boys playing beach volleyball . One of the boys jumps for the ball and crashes into Ronnie . Her soda spills on her shirt . Will : Look , I 'm really sorry . Are you OK ? Ronnie : I 'd rather drink my soda than wear it . Will : I 'm Will . Let me buy you another shirt . Ronnie : No , thanks . Will : Why do n't you come and watch me play ? I 'm pretty good . Ronnie : I 'm going to pass . But thanks . N2 : Ronnie walks down the beach @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ girl named Glad walks up to her . Glad : If I were you , I 'd stick with the stained one . Ronnie : Yeah , these shirts are all pretty lame . N1 : Ronnie becomes friends with Glad . She meets Glad 's boyfriend , Marcus . N2 : Marcus is mean to Glad . He also flirts with Ronnie . That makes Ronnie angry . Scene 2 N1 : Inside the house , Dad and Mom talk . Dad : Does Ronnie still play the piano ? Mom : Not since the day you left . Not once . She is really upset about the divorce . Dad : She 'll be OK . N2 : Mom leaves to go home . Dad and Jonah walk into Dad 's workshop . Dad : I 'm making a stainedglass window . It 's for the church down the road . Jonah : I saw - it was burned down . What happened ? Dad : No one is really sure . Hey , I 've been looking for an assistant to help put in the glass . Jonah @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ N1 : The next morning , Ronnie goes for a walk on the beach . N2 : She sees a raccoon destroy a turtle egg . A woman is standing there . She shows Ronnie the turtle nest . There are more eggs . Woman : The mother must have laid them last night . Ronnie : Are they going to be all right ? Woman : As long as the raccoon does n't come back . N1 : Ronnie calls the local aquarium . They send a volunteer to protect the turtle nest . It 's Will . Ronnie : You 're the volunteer they sent ? Will : What , I ca n't play volleyball and like turtles ? N2 : Ronnie and Will guard the nest . They stay up all night talking . They get to know - and like - each other . N1 : In the morning , Will takes Ronnie to the aquarium . He gets into a wetsuit and cleans the inside of a huge fish tank . He meets Ronnie at the surface . Will : Pretty cool , huh ? Ronnie @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ it from in here . Ronnie : Maybe I 'll do that someday . N2 : Will pulls Ronnie into the tank . Ronnie : Will ! Will : I guess someday is already here ! N1 : Ronnie and Will have fun swimming around in the tank . Scene 4 N2 : Ronnie and Will start dating . One day , Ronnie goes to Will 's house for dinner . The house is huge ! Ronnie ( to Will ) : You 're rich ? Will ( joking ) : No , but my parents are . Ronnie : But why did n't you tell me ? Will : Because it does n't matter . . . not to me . N1 : Ronnie 's family is poor . Will 's mom thinks that Will should break up with Ronnie . At dinner , she tells Ronnie that Will 's sister is getting married in a few weeks . She says Will already has a date for the wedding . N2 : Ronnie 's feelings are really hurt . Scene 5 N1 : Ronnie and Will go outside after dinner @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ some other girl to your sister 's wedding . . . Will : Not as a date . She 's a friend of my sister 's . Ronnie : You know what ? Maybe you need to find a girl with a big , perfect house . Someone more like you . Will : Ronnie , there is nothing " perfect " about this house . Nothing has been perfect in my family for a long time . The wedding is going to be right here . The reason I did n't invite you is that I do n't like to be here . Ronnie : I do n't understand . Will : I had a brother . Mikey . He died last year . Ronnie ( quietly ) : Oh , Will . . . Will : My mom was driving him to soccer . Mikey and I were in the backseat , goofing off . My mom turned around to tell us to shut up . . . and lost control of the car . Ronnie : I 'm so sorry . N2 : They sit in silence , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ you . Will : I love you too . Ronnie : Listen , there is something you do n't know about me . N1 : Ronnie leads Will back to his house . She sits at the piano and begins to play . She is amazing . Scene 6 N2 : At home , Ronnie 's dad swallows a pill . Just then , Ronnie walks in . Dad : Did you have a good time at Will 's house ? Ronnie : I played the piano tonight , Dad . N1 : Dad is very happy . A smile spreads across his face . Dad : How was it ? Ronnie : Like I never stopped . N2 : Ronnie throws her arms around her dad and gives him a big hug . Scene 7 N1 : One afternoon , Ronnie finds her dad at the church . She has noticed him going there before . Ronnie : Why do you like to come here ? Dad : I was the last person in the church the night it burned down . I was playing the piano here . I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ up across the street . The church was on fire . Ronnie : Tell me more . Dad : I was confused . My doctor had put me on some new medicine . Ronnie : What medicine ? Are you all right ? Dad : It 's nothing . Anyway , I ca n't stop thinking about how I accidentally burned down my very favorite place on Earth . That 's why I come here . N2 : Ronnie can see that her dad feels very guilty . Later , she tells Will what her dad said about the church . Scene 8 N1 : Will goes to talk to his friend Scott . Will : Scott , we have to tell the truth about the fire . Scott : We agreed that we would never talk about that night . Will : Ronnie 's father thinks he did it . Everyone in town thinks he did it . Scott : Right , and nobody cares ! They all think it was an accident . Will : He did n't do it ! We did ! Scott : Look , how @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Two ? You 've known me my entire life . If people find out we caused the fire , we 'll get in big trouble ! Will : It was an accident . We 'll just tell them what happened . It will be OK . Scott : If you tell , our friendship is over . N2 : Will does n't know what to do . Scene 9 N1 : Will takes Ronnie to his sister 's wedding . She and Will dance together . Then she sees Glad . Glad is working , serving food . Glad : Hey , Ronnie . I broke up with Marcus . Ronnie : Good . That guy was a jerk . Glad : I 'd better get back to work now . N2 : Ronnie heads back to the dance floor . Then she hears Glad scream . Glad : Let go of me ! Marcus : I 'm talking to you ! N1 : Will and Ronnie run over . Will sees Marcus push Glad to the floor . Will punches Marcus . N2 : Will 's parents are furious . @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ . Scene 10 N1 : Will drives Ronnie home . When they get there , Jonah runs up to the car . Jonah : Hurry ! You 're going to miss it ! N2 : They run down to the beach . The turtle eggs have hatched . The baby turtles are crawling to the ocean . N1 : Dad is there too . It 's a beautiful moment . Then Dad starts coughing . He ca n't stop . Jonah : What 's wrong ? N2 : He is coughing up blood . Will and Ronnie rush over . Ronnie : Somebody , help ! N1 : Will Ronnie 's dad be OK ? Will Scott and Will confess about burning down the church ? And what will happen to Ronnie and Will when the summer ends ? See the movie to find out ! - Adapted by Zoe Kashner and Tara Welty 
##4076177 They were drinking tea . One of the few things that Mrs Njoku and her daughter Sochienne could still do together without acrimony was drink tea , because when Mrs Njoku suggested they go to the new boutique on Victoria Island , or Titi 's Place for a facial - things they used to do together in Lagos before Sochienne went away to university in America - Sochienne called her a " fat bourgeois " , a dilettante dancing while Nigeria was failing , as though she could somehow solve the country 's problems by depriving her self of a manicure . But this , drinking tea , was neutral - as long as it was without fresh milk . The first week of Sochienne 's return , Mrs Njoku had bought a carton of fresh milk , excited to be able to offer her daughter something different from the usual condensed or powdered milk , but Sochienne said she would not touch that imported thing from Shoprite which most Nigerians did not even know existed , and she would drink only the locally made condensed milk . @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ as she felt , that the condensed milk was only locally assembled , since the companies imported milk powder and added water to it in Nigeria . Sochienne looked surprised by this news , but she insisted on calling it the local milk with a tone that made " local " sound pious . And so Mrs Njoku put away the fresh milk and bought tins of Peak condensed milk , which they poured , in a thin stream , into their tea . They were on their second cups when Sochienne said she wanted to have her wedding at Amarachi , the country house where she had spent childhood holidays , because she preferred a venue of emotional significance to an overpriced gilded hall . Mrs Nj oku choked on her tea . She had already hired the famous wedding planner , already booked St Mary 's Catholic Church and the grand convention centre for the reception . But more importantly , Amarachi was decrepit , the grounds sloped , this was rainy season and the mud would ruin women 's shoes , and nobody would take a wedding seriously @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ nobody would come . And she would , of course , be a subject of mockery in homes and hair salons all over Lagos . She could already imagine Mrs Fernandez-Cole , lips curled , saying " village wedding " . Sochienne added , between leisurely sips , that her fianc , Mwangi , had first suggested it after she told him about Amarachi , and she had then wondered why she had not thought of it herself . Mrs Njoku put her teacup down . Of course it had to be that dull-eyed Kenyan with an unpronounceable name who would bring up such an idea . She very nearly said , in her new distress , that she still did not know why Sochienne wanted to get married so young and why she could not have met a young man in America who was Igbo , or at least Nigerian . But she held herself back in time and instead said that there was not enough room at Amarachi to fit all their guests . Sochienne smiled , as though Mrs Njoku were the child and she the mother , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ; the other 400 were people she did not know and would not miss if they did not attend . So Mrs Njoku poured hot water on a new teabag and agreed to her only child 's wedding in an ordinary village house because she feared the next suggestion would be a ceremony on Bar Beach , with everybody wearing second-hand clothes . Perhaps Sochienne should never have been sent to college in America . But who knew a private university in Ohio would mean that Sochienne would return six years later , announcing that she was engaged to a Kenyan , refusing to eat meat , asking the baffled houseboys about fair wages , and wearing her hair in long rubbery dreadlocks ? What should have alerted Mrs Njoku , she realised now , was discovering , on her first visit to her daughter 's university , that the students wore bathroom slippers to their lectures . " Oh , Mummy , they are wearing sandals because of this rare blast of warm weather , " Sochienne said when she pointed it out , as though giving bathroom slippers the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ There was also a certain alarming sloppiness to the students . Mrs Njoku had been assured that wealthy Americans sent their children there - the outrageous tuition certainly suggested that - but here were young people in slouchy T-shirts and discoloured beads around their necks . Still , she had not worried too much about her daughter then , nor did she in the following years , because she assumed that the child she raised would retain her good sense . She had wanted Sochienne to be educated in England after completing primary school , and had suggested that they send her to Cheltenham Ladies ' College , where many of their friends sent their daughters . But her husband said Sochienne would not go abroad until university because he did not want her to turn out like those Akindele children who had spent so long in England that they referred to fellow Nigerians as " those people " . He wanted his daughter to attend secondary school in Nigeria so that she would know who she was . Most of all , he wanted her to get an American university @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for Nigerians to get over their colonial clinging . Mrs Njoku should have resisted more . If only her husband were alive now to see what Sochienne had become ; so much for knowing who she was . When they first met , there was something about the wedding planner 's knowing manner , yellow skin and fussy , expensive handbag that irritated Mrs Njoku . But she was determined to use the same wedding planner as Mrs Fernandez-Cole , whose daughter 's wedding Mrs Njoku had attended with the hope of finding something to deride ; but it had been flawless . Mrs Fernandez- Cole came from one of those old Lagos families that sniffed at people who did not , like them , have " Brazilian " great-grandfathers . Mrs Njoku thought it silly that anybody could feel superior about having forebears who were slaves in South America , yet she always felt plebeian in Mrs Fernandez-Cole 's presence , always fought the urge to smooth her hair and straighten her clothes . They were strenuously warm with each other when they met at Ikoyi Club , as they @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ - Cole thought the Njokus were parvenus to be tolerated with amusement , while Mrs Njoku felt a helpless , enraging need to prove herself an equal . And so when she told the wedding planner that the wedding would now be held in their country home in the east , her main worry was that the wedding planner would call Mrs Fernandez-Cole right away to gossip and giggle . But the wedding planner said , in a matterof-fact tone , that she needed cash right away to book a new caterer , since Yinka 's Foods &.; Events only worked in the Lagos area . So Mrs Njoku went with Sochienne to the bank . In the lobby , she saw the Osazes ' daughters , who now had British accents after schooling in England : their " Good afternoon , aunty " sounded so polished . They had never been half as pretty as her daughter , but in their fitted jeans and high heels , with their straight weaves that hung down to their shoulders , they were normal . Sochienne hardly noticed the Osaze girls . She @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ John - as he fed wads of naira notes into the counting machine , packed the cash in a brown paper bag and handed it to Mrs Njoku with a slight bow . Mrs Njoku gave him two thousand naira and nodded to acknowledge his " Madam , thank you very much " . Later , as they climbed into Mrs Njoku 's Range Rover , Sochienne said it was unethical of Mrs Njoku to have given money to John . Mrs Njoku clicked her seat belt and told the driver they were going to Lekki , before turning to her daughter to say that it was a tip , a simple tip , and had n't Sochienne accused her of being out of touch ? And yet now she had given a tip to an underpaid bank worker , it was unethical ? Sochienne mumbled something about tipping a chronically underfed waiter with a roast chicken , all the while looking at the beggars who made their way from car window to car window in the traffic , their skin tight over bony faces , their eyes hopeful , saying @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ bless you " . Mrs Njoku thought that perhaps she had been too harsh in her own defence . She asked Sochienne if the air conditioner was too cold . Sochienne said no . She asked what changes they would ask the wedding planner to make to the decor now that the wedding was at Amarachi . Sochienne said she did not know and shrugged , as if the wedding planner was a special indulgence of her mother 's that she had to humour . Mrs Njoku watched a hawker running after a car in the now-moving traffic . She had a headache . She asked if Sochienne wanted to stop at Chicken Republic ; they had salads that Sochienne could eat . Sochienne nodded , somewhat reluctantly , still looking out of the window , and when they pulled into the restaurant , she asked the driver to come in with them , turning to her mother to say that the man had not eaten anything all day . Mrs Njoku said she would get him something to take away . Sochienne sat still and said she wanted the driver @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ daughter and wanted to slap her , push her out of the car , trample her . She asked the driver , who looked both confused and terrified , to stop the engine and step out of the car . Then she leaned back on her seat and called her daughter a self-righteous ingrate . She was getting sweaty because the windows were up as these words tumbled out of her mouth . " You think if you take the driver into Chicken Republic to eat at the same table as you then you have done a good thing for him , but you have not because it is not about his own wellbeing but about your own well-being , and you are too self-righteous to see that you will only make him uncomfortable if he sits with you and you will change nothing in his life , and just in case you do n't know it , your father is lying in his grave , looking at this person you have become and he is tearing his hair out and eating it ! " Sochienne looked stunned . Then she @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ostrich who wanted to pretend that all was well , and Mrs Njoku opened the door and beckoned for the driver to come take them home . They did not speak to each other during the drive . They did not have dinner together . They did not drink tea . And they barely spoke to each other until the wedding at Amarachi . Mrs Njoku was , on the wedding day at Amarachi , making calls on both her cellphones , shouting at people , and inspecting the chairs tied with cream-and-blue ribbons , the newly trimmed bushes of ixora and hibiscus , the gravel spread on the muddy ground . The gazebo was tilting slightly and needed to be adjusted , but the man who set it up had disappeared . The wedding planner was complaining about the buffet tables . The clouds were darkening . Mrs Njoku was aware that her breathing was shallow . Mrs Fernandez-Cole had already called her to say she was at Enugu airport and how nice it was to be in this part of the country , in the tone of a person @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ were lying . Sochienne was upstairs chatting with the bridesmaids , stringing together some wilting flowers she had insisted on plucking from the frangipani tree . It was only an hour before she would have to get dressed but she was supremely calm , which annoyed Mrs Njoku , because the least she expected from her daughter , after all she had gone through for this wedding , was some bridal jitteriness . When the hairdresser arrived , flown in from Lagos , Mrs Njoku worried about Sochienne 's hair : what were the options for dreadlocks really ? Sochienne said at least her hair actually grew on her head , while her mother 's curly weave was just sewn-on plastic . Her tone was the same as when she said " fat bourgeois " and so Mrs Njoku went to her room to take a bath . The wedding planner knocked on her door moments later to say that the clouds were even darker now and that Sochienne had suggested a traditional rainholder . Mrs Njoku thought this - a man preventing rainfall - a silly superstition . She said @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ would move indoors and even though it would be cramped , it was doable , since the verandas were roofed . But Sochienne came into her room without knocking and said , with that tone that had begun to gravely irritate her mother , that rain-holders were just as superstitious as Catholic rosaries , and that faith was like a tin of Quality Street- she selected what to believe just as she chose only the nut-free chocolates . Her faith selections were : guardian ancestors , rain-holding , a happy God . Mrs Njoku found this listing of her daughter 's beliefs disconcerting . It reminded her of her late husband , an agnostic who had nevertheless called his country house Amarachi : " God 's Grace " . But it was the image of Quality Street - the purple tin of sweets she and her husband had first bought their daughter when she was eight , giving it to her downstairs in this very house , watching as she pored over the different shiny- wrapped toffees - that made her send for a rain-holder . The wizened man arrived and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ gin , and assuring everyone that there would be no rain . Guests were being seated . The bridesmaids were ready , lips glistening with gloss . The Kenyan arrived with his family from the hotel in Onitsha . His Senegalese kaftan , delicately embroidered at the collar , was perhaps the closest he would ever come to looking elegant , Mrs Njoku thought , but she still wished he had worn a suit . She fingered the diamond on her throat and felt a dizzying sense of displacement ; it was as if she had been written into a story that was not hers . She found Sochienne on the veranda , standing by the crumbling banisters , dreadlocks swept up , eyes kohl-rimmed , dress asimple calf-length sheath . Mrs Njoku felt wounded by the smallness of this day and by the plainness of her daughter 's face . She suggested alitile more make-up , but Sochienne shook her head and asked if her mother remembered when her father climbed up the frangipani tree with her to help conquer her fear of climbing , when it was so sticky-hot @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ father nearly burned down the house while making a fire to roast cashew nuts , when she threw up after eating a boiled snail ? Mrs Njoku had hated those holidays because their friends were in London , while her husband insisted they stay at Amarachi . Now , she moved closer to her daughter , silent , and thought that , for the first time , Sochienne looked familiar , with that expression of wonder she had often had as a child . The wedding planner came in to say that it was time . Sochienne raised her bouquet . She had combined the expensive silk flowers the wedding planner had ordered from somewhere in Europe with the frangipani flowers whose petals now drooped in the moist heat . She asked if her mother liked the bouquet and Mrs Njoku said no , following her daughter downstairs . In the end , it did not rain . It did drizzle , a fresh light shower , the clouds parting just before the reception started , when the wedding planner came up to whisper to Mrs Njoku that Sochienne had changed @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Like You " to Nico Mbarga 's highlife classic " Sweet Mother " . 
##4076179 I en minutes to closing on a cold , rainy Thursday night , and Kent Green was thinking it would n't be the end of the world if no other customers came in before he closed the sales office and locked up . It had been so dead since late afternoon he 'd sent the other salesmen home to their families . Divorced and owner of the place , he stayed . Dreading the arrival of possible customers was not a standard powertrain of thought for the owner of a used car lot . But it had been a long miserable day , and Kent was willing to pass on the chance to go get soaking wet once again only to hear someone tell him they were " just looking . " Some tin had moved during the day , in spite of the foul weather : a four-year-old hybrid and a three-year-old pure electric , both reasonably clean units with average miles on them ; stock in trade for Blue Sky Motors . When his father started the lot in the Sixties he 'd chosen that name @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ flying cars he saw touted in magazines like Popular Science and Popular Mechanics . The name ended up working as the place came to specialize in eco-friendly used vehicles . Fate , maybe . Eight minutes to closing . Kent closed down his computer and hauled his feet off the desk . Drained the tepid dregs of his coffee , no more eager for a long drive home to an empty house than more waiting for nothing to happen . That was when the short guy in the long gray robe came through the door . Kent 's welcoming smile was automatic , if not entirely heartfelt . Smiling was a reflex so deeply wired into him that he 'd once smiled all the way through a holdup . Hey , you never knew , the guy might come back looking for a getaway car . The robe 's hood hid the customer 's face , which could be a warning sign of bad intent , but this part of town saw all sorts of strange types . Then there was that New Age monastery up in the hills . Twice @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ . " Welcome to Blue Sky Motors , " he called . " I 'm Kent Green . Can I help you ? " The hood moved so it was pointed at him . " Perhaps . " The more specific that first answer , the more serious the buyer tended to be . Perhaps was something a be-back might say . But the smile stayed , and Kent came out from behind his desk . " I bet we can help . What 's your name ? " " Moto . " " So , Moto , are you looking for a good , clean used car ? One that 's kind to the environment - and the wallet ? " " We may be able to enter a business relationship . If we can work out certain details regarding trade-in . " The guy - he was pretty sure it was a guy-had an odd , hard-to-place accent . Usually he could peg accents . He heard a lot of them in this part of the state . This one , no idea . " What have you got @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ . " Not strictly true- there was a substantial government buy-back bounty on certain gas-guzzlers- but no sense bringing up confusing details until he knew what the guy was driving . " My trade-in is rather unusual . " That usually meant a retrofit or a homebrew . Tricky market . Most people wanted pure stock . But there was a certain segment of the car-buying public that cherished the oneoff because of the air of individuality it imparted . " Is it outside ? " He had n't seen anyone pull into the lot , but playing a few hands of computer solitaire when he should have been stapling himself to some overdue paperwork might have kept him from noticing . " Yes , it is . " Kent peered past the guy in the robe , and out through the plate glass window . Pouring harder now , and a wind had kicked up . Lovely . But his smile never faltered as he reached for his jacket and hat , both emblazoned with the Blue Sky Motors logo . " Well , let 's go take a look @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ habit of playing mental games because those games could sometimes give an edge . Trying to guess what a customer might be driving , or be inclined to drive away . Picking the decision maker in a couple , spotting hagglers . Kent was figuring that the monk would have something practical , maybe a pickup or a sedan . A van . With luck an old Mercedes , but more likely an old gas-sucking station wagon . The good news was that the car was parked out under one part of the lot covered with a canopy . The bad news was that the car was a - - Corvair . A bright banana-yellow Corvair . Kent kept his smile as he walked toward it . A used car dealer has to be able to make lemonade out of lemons . Corvairs were somewhat collectible . At least it was n't a Yugo or a Gremlin . " Do n't see many of those anymore , " he said with a bemused chuckle . " Not like this one , " Moto agreed . " It is a most exceptional @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ He was no expert , but there seemed to be something subtly off about the car . The lines were n't quite right , the overall shape slightly distorted in a way he could n't put his finger on . " 2018 . " Kent gave the monk the eye . " Ca n't be . They quit making these back in the ' 60s or ' 70s . Or is it a reproduction ? " He reached the side of the car , and did have to admit that it looked either showroom-new or cherry-rebuilt . That would also explain the sense of oddness about it . " Reproduction . Yes , in a sense . Of one of the most beautiful vehicles ever produced . " " Huh . " You might call it cute , but beautiful ? Putting a value on it was going to be a bitch . Usually he had Julio take potential trades out for a drive . Five minutes behind the wheel and his service manager could give chapter and verse about everything from the front end to the tranny to the condition @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ value to within a hundred bucks . " You must take this vehicle for a drive , " Moto said . " I 'm not sure that 's necessary . " It was late . It would take both Julio and net-searching to evaluate it . His driving it would count for little . " Please . Only in this way can you understand what an exceptional trade this vehicle would be . " Kent glanced at his watch . After nine now . No way there was going to be a sale tonight . But maybe if he agreed to a quick spin the guy would come back in the morning . He wanted Julio to see it , if for no reason other than the novelty of the thing . He shrugged . " Sure . Why not ? " As he opened the driver 's side door and slid into the seat , the monk went around and got in the passenger seat . The first thing he had to do was fumble for the lever under the seat so he could shove it back , not surprising @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ left the door open so the dome light stayed on , helping him see what he was doing . The dash was n't like any he 'd ever seen before , blank black plates where the gauges should have been . Maybe it had looked like that on the original , but he doubted it . No seat belt . But the shift lever was easily enough located , as were the steering wheel , brake , and gas pedal . After a bit of searching he found the key , turned it . " Sure runs quiet , " he observed . The car only made a soft hum . That suggested some form of electric or hybrid drive system . The original Corvairs had , if he recalled correctly , a noisy rear engine . " Yes , this vehicle is very quiet . If you would please pick a destination for the test drive . " " I was just going to take a quick ride around the lot . My service manager would be the one to take it for a real test drive . " The @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ not sufficient . Please pick a destination . A place five miles away would serve our purposes . " " Really , I do n't need to drive it that far . " Nor did he want to go out on the highway without seat belts . " Please , I must insist . Pick a destination . " Kent was too much of a pro to sigh . " Okay , there 's a truck stop at the intersection of this highway and Route 215 . Mack 's . " That was a drive-to spot he and his sales force gave test drivers fairly often . " Excellent . Please put the car in drive so we may commence the test drive . " Kent did as he was asked . The car rolled forward , out from under the canopy . Rain immediately lashed the windshield . Before he could ask where the switch for the wipers were , they came on automatically . " Nice touch . The lights came on by themselves , too . " " This is , as you will see , an exceptional @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the accelerator pedal so we may proceed . " " Sure . " He fed it only a little gas . Corvairs were reputedly one of the least safe , least road-worthy vehicles Detroit had ever churned out . He did n't know if they - or this reproduction- would live up to that reputation , but he was willing to bet it would n't handle like a Porsche . " What the- " he shouted as the car shot not forward , but straight up , acceleration shoving him into the seat . In a second the lot was a small bright square far below him , and the car was still blasting skyward like there were rocket engines bolted to all four wheels . Actually they were n't going straight up , but following the sort of curve made by a mortar shell , a curve that was already topping out , and sending the car plummeting down as only a couple thousand pounds of wingless steel can plummet from a height of over a mile , the ground rushing up in a blur There was a slight jarring @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the back corner of Mack 's Truck Stop . " -hell ? " Kent whispered , looking around and surprised to still be alive . " Ten seconds , " Moto said . " Greater performance is available , certainly for longer trips , but it is always prudent to exercise caution when in control of an unfamiliar vehicle . " Kent pried his fingers loose from the steering wheel . Turned to stare at the monk . " What , " he whispered hoarsely , " is this thing ? " In the back of his head numbers were running . Car sales run on numbers : book and trade values , APR , payments ; a good salesman can reflexively crunch numbers quickly . He was thinking five miles- okay , call it three miles as the Corvair flies - in ten seconds comes out to somewhere in the neighborhood of a thousand miles per hour . " We call it the Turble . " Which sounded like a supercharged turtle . Detroit had done worse , though not lately . At least in the name game . " @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ mine ? " " That is the desired arrangement . " " Any one in particular ? " " Let us return to your place of business so that I may determine which vehicle would be desired . Is that acceptable ? " " Sure . " He gingerly took hold of the steering wheel . " So what do I do ? " " Simply step on the gas . " Ten seconds later they were back at Blue Sky Motors . Kent cautiously guided the Turble back under the canopy , then with a peculiar mixture of relief and regret , turned off the key . They had barely stopped when Moto hopped out of the car and started toward the nearest line of cars . He watched in growing bewilderment as the monk opened the driver 's side door of each car , leaned inside , and sniffed the seats . Moto lingered over an ' 08 Escape hybrid , finally closing the door carefully , almost reverentially . Kent could n't see Moto 's face , but did n't need to . He knew he 'd just @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ back inside that Kent realized that , in spite of his time in the lot seat-sniffing , Moto was n't wet . That was n't true for him , when he hung up his soggy coat and hat both began to drip . Kent went back behind his desk and sat down , ready to do some serious business . " So what kind of deal are you looking for ? " He had to work at keeping any trace of eagerness out of his voice and off his face . Having had some time to think about it , he knew he wanted that Turble , and wanted it badly . If only for himself . " I seek a direct trade , vehicle for vehicle , " Moto answered . " There would be some minor restrictions , but none that should preclude agreeable commerce . " " We can probably work something out , sure . You have a title for the Turble ? " " I have the creator 's certificate . " " So who built it ? " " We did . " " Who @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to let that detail remain unresolved for the moment , knowing he 'd circle back to it later . " So what does your Turble run on ? " " Water . " " Fuel cell ? " " Not precisely . " The monk sat slightly forward . " There are deeper implications to this deal than I have yet mentioned . I am proposing an ongoing business relationship . More Turbles in trade for selected vehicles from your lot . " It hurt to keep a poker face , hurt like biting back any reaction to being offered a Rolls Royce in trade for a tricycle . " That . . . might be possible , " Kent allowed , sounding reluctant to move too fast on such an idea . " We would hope so . For each vehicle we select we would provide a Turble , subject to contractual limitations pursuant to our forged agreement . " Warning flags went up in Kent 's head . The monk was talking like a lawyer , and it was a truism that selling a car to a lawyer was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ or riding a gassed-up Pinto through a car crusher . He steepled his fingers , face solemn . " What kind of limitations are we talking here ? " Moto was silent a moment , as if considering which cards to lay on the table . " I am what you would call a sales representative , " he said at last . " The interests I speak for have an appetite for certain vehicles . As a medium of exchange we have created a vehicle of our own , the Turble . If over time transactions prove satisfactory , we may provide other models - other vehicles - to widen the base of exchange . Our contacting you is a means of testing the market since we have reason to believe we could not successfully enter into direct commerce with potential customers for the Turble . " " So who do you represent ? " Moto 's confession that he was a sales rep meant that the gloves could come off . Customers had to be treated carefully . Sales reps were made to be squeezed and abused . " @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Some place we would normally refuse to do business with ? " " I represent the Koomban Empire . " " The who ? " " The Koomban Empire . " Moto stood up and took off his robe . " Whoa , " Kent said . He did n't shove his chair back in shock , but his eyebrows did go up almost to his hairline . Moto was , under the robe , a five-foot-tall red devil straight from a ' 50s tattoo . Red skin , potbelly , forked beard , pointy tail , horns , and all . " Please do not jump to conclusions , " Moto said . " Such as ? " Kent asked in a voice that hardly shook at all . " I am not a demon or devil , imp , or other manifestation of evil . " " You are a sales rep , " Kent pointed out . Moto sat down . " Point taken . " He crossed his legs , showing off bristly goat feet . " I am an alien . A Koomban . Marketing studies @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ill favor . We concluded that we would not be judged kindly , or be particularly successful , were we to enter direct trade with your kind . " " Probably not , " Kent said agreeably , though he had a feeling that some people would gladly trade their souls for Turble . And the difference between some bottom-feeder car dealers and the forces of Hades was n't that great , mostly coming down to less brimstone and more deceptive contracts . " Our requirements for assaying trade vehicles are , by your habits , somewhat unusual . " " You mean telling what you want by sniffing the seats ? " Moto shrugged . " Ownership and use of a vehicle imbues it with traces that we can sense . For my kind , sitting in such a vehicle is similar to your sitting in a theater seat and watching a play or movie . We are choosy . Some movies have greater depth and interest than others . Still , we understand how the root of our desire for your vehicles might be misunderstood . " " I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ n't care if they ate the seats and screwed the airbags if it meant getting a car that went a thousand miles per hour . But this was n't the time to disagree with the man . . . or whatever . " There is one point in our contractual agreement that may present some difficulty . " " And that is ? " " Buyers must swear loyalty to the Koomban Empire . " Kent sat up straight and scowled , as if just hearing about a delinquent lien or an admission that the car spent a few days at the bottom of a river . " Now wait one minute , Moto . What do you mean by loyalty ? " The Koomban held up his hands . " It is nothing , really . Verbal boilerplate . " " Swearing loyalty to an alien empire is hardly nothing . " " Really , it is . The oath is strictly pro forma , not that dissimilar to the EULAs you agree to when commencing to use software . " " But you 're an empire . You want @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ or something ? You want us to agree to pay tribute , or provide troops , or something like that ? " " Most certainly not ! " Moto said , sounding offended . " Then what does it mean ? " " Were we to become part of some conflict , and I assure you that is most unlikely , then your loyalty oath would bind you to being on our side . The best comparison I can make would be to the manner in which you are on the side of various sports teams . " " So . . . we 'd have to root for you ? " " Yes . We would even issue you pennants and noisemakers . But we have not required such contracted enthusiasm in centuries . " " So ... I 'd have to swear this oath ? Or would it be sworn by the buyer ? " " The buyer . " " Would a written declaration count ? " Moto 's faint smile was devilish . " Am I correct in understanding a proposal to hide the declaration in the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ him in the eyes . Yellow , slitpupilled eyes . " You have a problem with that ? " After a moment Moto shook his head . " No , that would suffice . " Kent sat back , staring at the creature across from him and thinking hard . " So how many units are we talking about ? " " As many as you want . You provide suitable vehicles for us , we can provide Turbles- or at some point other models - in trade . " " How much should I sell the things for ? " Moto showed pointed teeth . " For what the market will bear , of course . " " What about the dangers of flying cars ? " " There are none . Our vehicles will automatically avoid other objects . Their inertial damping systems allow for evasive maneuvers that would destroy anything you can build and kill anyone riding inside . That system is robust enough that , were you to somehow fly one into the side of a mountain , the vehicle would be undamaged and the passengers would @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ no safer vehicle to be had anywhere . " " And they run on water . " A nod . " About one gallon for every ten thousand miles . " How about repairs ? " " They are largely self-repairing . Only tires and wiper blades would need to be replaced . We are not certain that the eight-track will be viewed positively by many , and it may have to be replaced . " " Warranty ? " " Ten years , bumper to bumper , with generous terms for trade-backs . " There had to be other questions- important questions- but Kent could n't think of them . Only one left : " So how would we seal a deal ? " " A simple handshake for now , followed by a one page contract . So you find our offer interesting ? " " I guess . " Kent sounded unsure , still slightly reluctant . Pure salesmanship . Moto peered at him for several seconds , stroking his forked beard , then said , " Did I mention that you would get to keep the Turble @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ as payment for any vehicle you might take . " " Like that Escape ? You seemed to take a shine to it . " Moto ducked his head . " It too is an exceptional vehicle . " Kent leaned forward . " What say I give that car to you ? Personally . " " That would be . . . most kind and generous . " " So would Blue Sky Motors becoming your exclusive dealer . " Moto stared at him . After a moment he smiled . Kent smiled back . Alien to one another , but each understanding the other perfectly . Kent walked Moto - once again robed - out into the lot . In Moto 's hand were the keys to the Escape , and in his hand were the keys to the Turble . The rain had let up to a light but steady drizzle . " I shall return in two nights , " Moto said as he opened the small SUV 's door . " We can then commence the exchange of more vehicles . " " Works for me @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ " " That is agreeable . " Moto climbed inside , closed his eyes a moment , sighed . " Remarkable vehicle . " He removed an object about the size of a cell phone from inside his robe , placed it on the dash . " Drive happy , " Kent said cheerily , closing the car door . The Escape rolled forward a few feet , then suddenly leapt straight up , and was gone from sight in just a couple seconds . Kent stood there , staring up into the sky for almost a minute , then went back inside . First thing in the morning he 'd turn Julio loose on the Turble , trying to find out what made it tick . If the tech was beyond him , he knew of two people , regular customers , who might be able to help . One was a retired rocket scientist , the other an unemployed physicist . The list of bases to be covered was daunting . He had to figure out what to charge for a Turble , who to offer it to , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to find out what made that Escape so irresistible so he could start acquiring tradeworthy tin . He was going to need new security , new advertising , more lot space , and a plan for dealing with media and government attention when news of his new line broke . But for now , it was time to lock up and head home . Maybe take a detour or two for some more Turble drive time . He was whistling the theme song for their commercials , Nothing But Blue Skies , as he crossed the lot . Back inside the Turble he inserted the key , turned it on , took hold of the wheel . " All hail the Koomban Empire , " he said with a laugh , then put the vehicle in drive and rocketed merrily into the night . 