Where the Forest Meets the Stars(17)

“I love the natural look of your garden,” Jo said.

“Thank you,” Ms. Ivey said. “Do you know how to take care of flowers?”

“I do. My mom had a big garden.”

“I didn’t grow up with a garden, but I love flowers,” Tabby said. “That’s why your house was one of the best on our jogging route.”

“Let’s go inside and look at the lease,” Ms. Ivey said.

“You’re going to let us rent it?” Tabby said.

“If you agree to the terms.”

“We’ll agree to anything,” Tabby said. “I’ll sign over my firstborn.”

Ms. Ivey smiled. “I’m glad you love it that much.”

Ms. Ivey served iced tea while they talked about the lease in the living room. She gave Ursa milk and cookies at the kitchen table. She also gave her crayons and paper, probably too childish for her, but Ursa obediently drew pictures while they talked business in the other room.

They soon discovered they shared many more interests than flowers, birds, and cats, and Frances, as she insisted they call her, eventually trusted them enough to tell them why she was leaving her beloved house. Her former partner, Nancy, who’d moved away after they split two years earlier, had been in a devastating car wreck and had no one to help her. Nancy had a shattered arm and leg, and the foot on her other leg had been amputated. Frances needed to leave immediately. She would stay in Maine for at least one school year to keep the lease simple.

Though the rent was high and Jo hated to pay for two houses until August, she signed the lease and paid the portion Tabby couldn’t afford. As Tabby had said, why not use some of the money she’d inherited? Her mother would have loved the house. Every time Jo sat in the garden, she would feel connected to her.

Tabby wanted to go out for pizza to celebrate after they signed the lease. Jo followed her to the restaurant, and as she pulled into the space next to her, Tabby climbed out of her VW and peeled off her shirt in the busy parking lot.

“A little exhibitionist, don’t you think?” Jo said.

“Who cares?” Tabby said. “And no way I’ll be seen in public wearing that hideous shirt.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Right, like you’re so emotionally involved with a T-shirt.” She pulled a tee with a Rolling Stones tongue over her black lace bra.

Ursa’s dimple marked her grin again. She took the crayons Frances had given her into the restaurant so she could finish a drawing. They ordered slices, and Tabby got a beer. Jo had water, and she let Ursa have a Sprite. When the drinks arrived, Tabby held up her beer for a toast. “To our awesomest house.” Jo and Ursa tapped their glasses to hers. “Don’t you think it has to be fate that this happened?” Tabby said. “I mean, how weird that we loved that house so much and now we’re going to live in it!”

“I made it happen,” Ursa said.

“How’d you make it happen?” Tabby said.

“I’m from another planet. My people can make good things happen.”

“Really?” Tabby said.

“She likes to pretend,” Jo said.

“It’s not pretend,” Ursa said. “And the proof is that house.”

“How do your people make things happen?” Tabby asked.

“It’s hard to explain,” Ursa said. “When we find Earth people we like, good things all of a sudden start to happen for them. It’s how we reward them for being nice to us.”

“But that means you made Nancy get in a car wreck,” Tabby said.

“I didn’t want that,” Ursa said, “but sometimes bad things happen to make good things happen.”

“You know what I hope happens?” Tabby said. “I hope Nancy realizes she still loves Frances, because Frances is obviously still shitloads in love with her.”

“Maybe that will happen—because I like Frances,” Ursa said. “Are Frances and Nancy lesbians?”

Tabby grinned. “Yeah, they’re lesbians. You cool with that?”

“I support gay rights,” Ursa said.

“Wow,” Tabby said to Jo, “and from Banjo Land, no less.”

“I’m from Hetrayeh,” Ursa said.

“Is that your planet?” Tabby asked.

Ursa nodded. “It’s in the Infinite Nest Galaxy.”

“Whatever that is,” Tabby said. “How do you know about gay rights if you’re an alien?”

“I saw it on the internet at Gabe’s house. I’m supposed to learn about Earth, kind of like getting a PhD.”

“Awesome,” Tabby said. “Who’s this Gabe you keep mentioning?”

“He owns the property next to my rental house,” Jo said.

“This is Gabe,” Ursa said, sliding a paper out from under her drawing of a house.

Tabby studied the crayon drawing of a bearded man with blue eyes. “This is good, Ursa. How old are you?”

“My age wouldn’t make sense to Earth people,” she said.

Tabby looked at Jo. Jo shrugged.

After they ate, Tabby drank another beer and they discussed their move to the rental house. Ursa worked on her second drawing, a front view of Frances Ivey’s house. When she went to the bathroom, Tabby said, “Tell me more about this kid.”

“I know about as much as you do.”

“Do you have any idea where she lives?”

“I don’t.” Jo watched Ursa walk into the bathroom on the other side of the restaurant. “And she hasn’t been reported missing. I check the internet almost every day.”

Tabby leaned across the table, whispering, “You shouldn’t have brought her up here. What if something happened to her while she was with you?”

“I didn’t want to leave her alone all day.”

“You could get in big trouble, Jo!”

“Do you think I can’t see what a mess it is? But I don’t know what to do other than literally tie her up and drag her to the sheriff. And then she goes back to the people who hurt her.”

“Shit.”

“I’m hoping it’ll work itself out somehow.”

Tabby swallowed a swig of beer. “Is she . . . normal, do you think?”

“As normal as she can be under the circumstances.”

“But does she actually believe she’s an alien?”

“I don’t think so.”

Tabby picked up Ursa’s drawing of the house. “There’s something odd about this.”

“About what?”

“Look at the way she drew depth and dimension in this picture. And she saw the house from the outside for maybe a few minutes, but she got all these details. She even remembered the design in the stained glass above the front windows.”

“She’s really bright.”

“How does that Gabe guy figure in?”

“She likes to hang out at his farm.”

“He’s okay with that?”

“It’s a village-raises-the-kid kind of thing.”

“You know the guy? Are you sure he’s not a weirdo?”

“He seems okay.”

“Seems?”

“His dad taught literature at the University of Chicago. He went there for a while, too.”

“He could still be a creeper.”

“Ursa would tell me.”

“Since when is Banjo Land inhabited by literature professors?”

“Since before you became a bigot.”

“I’m not a bigot!”

“If you believe everyone who lives in rural America is a backward hick, you’re a bigot.”

“Okay, so maybe they all aren’t.” She picked up the drawing of Gabe. “Maybe this guy isn’t, even though he uses his beard to clean grits off his plate.”

“He reads Shakespeare.”

“No shit?”

“All his barn kittens are named after Shakespearean characters.”

Tabby burst into laughter.

“Seriously.”

She laughed harder, wiping at tears.

Ursa nearly ran back to the table. “What’s so funny?”

“Shakespeare,” Tabby said.

“Not usually,” Ursa said. “Most of his characters have sad fates.”

“Oh my god!” Tabby said. “Even she reads Shakespeare! I take it all back about Banjo Land!”

“What is Banjo Land?” Ursa asked.

“It’s where purple shoes are harvested.” Tabby pushed her purple boot out from under the table and wedged it next to Ursa’s purple gym shoes. “We have the same color taste in footwear.”

“Purple is my favorite color,” Ursa said.

“I see that,” Tabby said, noting her lavender puppy shirt and purple shorts. She looked at Jo. “She has to hear it.”

“No,” Jo said.

“Hear what?” Ursa said.

“You see that thing over there, little alien?” Tabby said.

“What thing?” Ursa said.

“That machine with the colored lights.”

“What about it?” Ursa said.

“It’s called a jukebox, and it plays music from all of human history, all the way back to the original version of ‘Walk Like an Egyptian.’”

Ursa stared at the jukebox.

“The most awesome song ever written is in there,” Tabby said.

“Please don’t,” Jo said.

“What song?” Ursa said.

“‘The Purple People Eater.’ Have you ever heard it?”