Aliens In The Family

by Margaret Mahy

  "He might run out of oxygen," said Lewis, staring at Jake and trying to talk without moving his lips.

  "There's plenty of oxygen in the garage. It gets in under the door," Jake said knowledgeably. "We ought to check him out though. Do you have to pinch the keys?"

  "No, just get them from the kitchen," said Lewis, "and lock up afterwards so no-one pinches our lawn mower and things."

  Philippa was surprised when they came in to get the key, and even more surprised when the three of them walked out of the house together and across to the garage. She watched them roll up the door. Last night after the children had gone to bed she and David had had—not a quarrel so much as a disagreement, and she had felt very insecure all day. The new house and the new things in it, the tree-lined street and the nice neighbourhood suddenly felt fragile, like a cleverly-painted screen she had put up around her to hide the real, fierce world beyond. She was also frightened that there would be other disagreements that would turn into real quarrels and that once again she would find she had married someone she did not really want to live with. Thoughts such as these passed like dark spirits through her head and she felt as though the sparkling kitchen was not really hers—that nothing in the house had any history or permanence, everything was too new and she felt that she had no real place of her own.

  Once inside the garage Dora unlocked the car and said "Are you there?" wondering as she did so if she had perhaps imagined the whole thing, and then, Suppose he's smothered under that rug. She had an uneasy feeling that he might not be there at all. However Bond rose up from under the rug looking like an amazing clown, his pale face smiling and faintly luminous in the shadows of the garage. Lewis and Jake clambered into the front of the car and Dora got in the back with Bond. All four stared at each other like conspirators who weren't altogether sure just what they were conspiring about.

  "Thank you," Bond was saying. "I think I must have lost them by now. I must be out of their range. There's the whole city to look through."

  Something about the words he used made Jake regard him very closely and she suddenly felt a sensation like pins and needles all over her body but could not explain why. Taken piece by piece Bond was ordinary enough. There was nothing impossible in his many pockets or his white hair or his wonderful transistor radio connected by a silver wire to his ear, or even in the way his hand lay on his chest as if he was hiding a bullet hole. Yet Jake felt as if Dora had rubbed a lamp and a genie had appeared.

  "Who were they?" Dora asked Bond. "They weren't the CIA were they?"

  Bond looked at her with a hesitation in his expression as if he was having to wait for her question to be absorbed into his mind. He did not reply immediately.

  "Oh no," he said at last. "It was nothing like that. It was... er, a family matter."

  "Was it your father?" asked Jake.

  "Relations," replied Bond cautiously. "Distant relations. How far did we travel to get here?"

  "Oh, miles and miles!" said Dora reassuringly.

  Jake saw at once that this strange boy believed exactly what Dora said, although she knew very well that Dora simply meant that they had driven out of town—two miles at the very most. And, perhaps because the circumstances were so peculiar already, she noticed something else that also seemed strange to her. Bond looked at the three of them with an expression that reminded her of her father, though he didn't look at all like David. It was the expression of responsibility, of deciding to do something he did not want to do for the sake of others' happiness.

  "Thank you for opening the door. I'm very grateful. But I mustn't stay. I have to move on."

  Dora, who had been horrified at the thought of Bond staying in the back of the car, was now horrified at the thought of his going away. He stood for something too new and exciting to be lost. "Oh no!" she cried. "We can hide you here."

  "How can we?" stated Jake reasonably. "You need room to hide someone, enough room to be warm in and to have something to eat. There's not even a bush in this place that you could hide behind. Nothing tangled."

  Dora thought Jake was criticizing the new house, finding it plain and bare after her own country estate with its huge garden and woodland and stables. "I suppose you have masses of bush where you live," she said resentfully.

  Jake frowned, then her mouth turned up at the corners very slowly as if a smile, amused and not at all sinister, was trying hard to be born. "We could hide him and ten more like him where I live," she said. "Come on, Dora, be fair! It's too well-kept here to hide anyone for long." It was the first time she had called Dora by name.

  "I should leave now," repeated Bond, "but I need to sleep first if I can. Could I sleep in the car for an hour or two? I'd be most grateful."

  "You'd better keep down then," said Jake, "because my Dad's car is just turning in at the gate."

  "Lie down where you were before," hissed Dora. "I'll cover you up again and we'll come back later on. Don't let David see you." It occurred to Dora that she didn't even know this boy's name. She could only call him 'you'.

  "Don't look so guilty," Jake warned her. "Just stay cool!"

  However feeling guilty was part of Dora's way of enjoying the excitement. It was as if she was acting all the time for an invisible audience inside her head. Hooray for Dora, the brave and beautiful! they shouted whenever she came onto the stage. The gestures she made for their benefit were easily seen by anyone, but the applause was heard only by Dora herself.

  David's car glided quietly into the garage. "Hello kids! It's nice of you to come and meet me. It makes me feel wanted." He spoke to them all but it was Jake on whom his gaze rested.

  "We were just getting something out of the car," Dora said, so casually that Jake thought David would have to be suspicious. He didn't seem to notice.

  "I hope it wasn't the steering wheel," he joked. It wasn't very funny but Lewis laughed so hard he nearly choked. "The steering wheel!" he repeated to himself and laughed again.

  "I'll carry your briefcase," offered Dora.

  "Really? That's very civil of you, Dora." As they walked up to the house, Lewis and David in front and the two girls trailing behind, Philippa appeared on the steps to meet them.

  "She's put on a different dress and some lipstick! That shows they're in love," Dora murmured to Jake, her voice dreamy and sentimental.

  "She'll soon get sick of it," said Jake cynically. "Not love—but getting changed when she doesn't have to."

  "/ like getting dressed up for things," countered Dora defiantly.

  "You would!" grumbled Jake, but she had a lot on her mind and didn't sound as contemptuous as she would have done earlier in the day.

  Seven - Plans and Disguises

  The patchwork family sat down to dinner rather self-consciously, smiling politely at one another.

  "No more fights," announced Philippa, "because not only have I cooked this delicious meal, but I've been working out how to turn a corner of the living room into a bedroom for Jake. It would be like a sort of bedsitter for the duration of the holidays. I know someone we could borrow a folding bed from, and we could fit that in behind the sofa..." she turned to Jake, "if you don't mind having a leftover bit of space, that is, Jake?"

  "I don't need much," Jake mumbled, turning red. "I don't want to be any trouble."

  "Dora's room is so full of Dora's things," continued Philippa. "We thought it might work out to put you two together, but now I can see you're two totally different propositions."

  "From your photo you looked more like Dora's kind—not like a tough cowboy," added Lewis, and wondered why his mother frowned at him and said "Lewis!" in her 'scolding' voice.

  "People's things do make a difference," David agreed. "I like people, but sometimes I think it would be nice to get to a beginning place where there were just the people themselves—none of their things. No cowboy hats or second-hand jerseys..."

  "No red car," said Jake sternly. David looked at her for a second, then nodded rather ruefully.

  "All
right—no red car. No green car. Just people themselves. No other clues."

  "No clothes?" asked Lewis, seizing his table napkin as if he might need to cover himself at any moment.

  'No hair dye..." added Dora generously.

  "...or felt pens..." said Lewis, suddenly catching on. His felt pens were his favourite items. Drawing with his felt pens he could become anything he drew, even an eagle.

  "...or history," said Philippa.

  "No history!" agreed David, reaching for the salt. "History's the great clutterer. The world's full of people, all of us dragging our histories behind us like—like..."

  "Like long, tangly tails," filled in Lewis quickly.

  "...like long, tangly tails," repeated David. "It'd be nice to get to some clear place before things and history began and we could see one another very clearly and talk together like friends straight away, with no worry about the past or anyone's hair style, or what anybody wears and so on." He sighed. "Unfortunately, that can never be. Oh well, dreams are free!"

  "I think a space behind the sofa would be really good," said Jake, returning to the original conversation. She was grateful to Philippa for her consideration and snowed it by smiling in a way that made Dora realize that Jake could still look like her photograph if she wanted to.

  "That's settled then. So—let's go for a drive after dinner, shall we?" suggested David. "We'll drive over the hills, maybe watch the moon rise over the harbour, then stop at that place that stays open late for a milk shake before heading home. What do you think?"

  Dora looked dismayed. "I can't come!" she blurted out.

  "Dora, I thought you of all people would back me up." David looked surprised.

  "Well, we're playing a sort of game we've got to finish," she rushed on. "It's a game of Monopoly and I've got a hotel on Mayfair. We have to finish it. Besides, it would be nice for you and Mum to have some time on your own." She smiled brightly at her own ingeniousness.

  Overdoing it! thought Jake. What a fool! They must know there's no game of Monopoly set up anywhere in the house. It takes up half a room when you're playing it!

  David looked hopeful, Philippa suspicious. "Dora—you aren't up to any mischief are you? No stray cats? No plans to dye your hair?"

  "Oh no!" Dora cried with great sincerity. "Truly I'm not. It's just this game we're playing—we don't want to interrupt it, do we, you kids?"

  "No!" chorused Lewis and Jake obediently, with Jake wondering why she found it so hard to lie to David when it seemed that Dora found it so easy. But Dora didn't regard it as lying, merely preventing the truth from causing too much trouble.

  "Well," said David. "I must admit I'd like to show Philippa the moon. She hasn't seen it before you know."

  "Yes she has," said Lewis, confused. "She's seen it lots of times."

  "But the one they had last year had been put too close to the sun and was covered in blisters," said Philippa.

  "Those were craters!" cried Lewis, roaring with laughter at his mother's ignorance.

  "Oh Phil, darling. Let me take you away from all this. We'll test the moon—colour, texture, taste..."

  "Mmm, this moon is simply delicious!" Philippa said.

  "Cooked to perfection," agreed David.

  "You can tell they're in love," said Dora later as they watched David and Philippa leave. "They're even holding hands walking to the garage!"

  "That's a bit stupid!" commented Jake, scornfully. "It takes two hands to open the garage door!" But as they watched, it was opened using David's right hand and Philippa's left.

  "Did David and your mother ever hold hands?" asked Dora. "Mum never held hands with my real father. At least not when I was looking." She wanted to think that David had never truly loved anyone until he met Philippa. Somehow that would make her as much his true daughter as Jake was.

  Jake gave her a slight smile. "If Dad ever held my mother's hand it would be to make sure she didn't hit him!"

  "Did she ever hit him?" cried Dora, both shocked and thrilled at what poor David must have suffered before he became a part of their family.

  "I was only joking!" Jake explained. "Well... half true, half joke."

  "A Jake-joke!" Lewis seemed pleased with his quick wit.

  Jake ignored him. "Suppose they take your mother's car, though?" she said anxiously.

  "They won't! It rattles," answered Dora smugly. "Besides, I don't think there's much petrol in it."

  Sure enough, the car that eventually backed out of the garage was David's car, although Philippa was driving, enjoying the thought of being seen in a sporty car, quieter and faster than her own. The electric window slid smoothly down. "Can you please put the milk bottles out?" called Philippa. "Don't forget, or we'll have no milk for breakfast. See you later!"

  Cheerfully, the three children waved them on their way.

  "Now, let's get that boy out!" said Lewis with satisfaction.

  "Yeah, and ask him his name this time," added Jake.

  Bond told them his name. Somehow he looked even more odd sitting on the flowery sofa in their living room.

  "James Bond! Double O seven! Licensed to kill?" Jake asked, smiling. Bond turned his eyes towards her and for the first time she looked deep into them. They were blue-grey, the colour of the sea on a cloudy day, and showed no understanding at all of what she had just said. As she watched she was amazed to see comprehension flood into them as if the knowledge was suddenly supplied from thin air.

  "Don't you ever stop listening to your radio?" she asked impatiently, while Dora made fluttering gestures at her in an effort to gain attention.

  "Sorry!" said Bond, disconnecting the silver wire from his ear.

  "I've had a terrific idea!" Dora announced. Her terrific idea was they they should disguise Bond. "White Fire won't be any good for you," she pondered. "It's got to be Midnight Appointment or Kiss of Fire."

  "Kiss of fire?" queried Bond. He looked into space as he asked the question, rather than at Dora

  "I know—it's hair dye!" exclaimed Lewis before Dora could explain. "She's got a drawer full of it. What about Ginger Crunch?" he asked in an affected voice.

  Dora turned red with anger. "You shouldn't go looking in my drawers reading private hair colouring!" she declared crossly. "I don't go looking at your stupid feathers!" She turned to the other two. "I just thought we could dye Bond's hair as a sort of disguise."

  Jake waited to see what Bond might have to say about this but he seemed more curious than worried. Dora went to her room and fetched the bottle. She handed it to Bond who studied the label. "The single-step process to new, true hair colouring. It's as easy as one, two, three." He shook the bottle, removed the cap and smelt the lotion inside. "They don't actually recognize me by my hair," he said but was too curious about having his hair dyed to turn down Dora's offer.

  "Well, I think I'll be in charge of refreshments," said Jake. "This isn't my scene." For all that she kept on going to the bathroom to watch from the door while Dora fussed over Bond, finding him such a passive patient that she went even further and put his hair in rollers. Jake put together a tray of crackers, cheese and fruit, thinking to herself that a house where you could raid the fridge and cupboards wasn't half bad. She was beginning to feel at home here. By the time she had finished pouring some cold drinks, Bond was sitting with a sort of puffed-out tea cosy on his head which was connected by a wide plastic tube to a machine with a windy voice. His hair was being dried and Jake thought he looked like a spaceman. He did not seem in the least perturbed about being seen under a hair-dryer but she deduced that that was probably because he was a bit strange anyway—he even wore unusual red and black tattoos on either side of his neck. Lewis felt humiliated for him. As Jake pushed the crackers towards him, not very graciously, Bond smiled his bright smile at her.

  "You're all being very good to me," he said. "You don't know anything about me."

  "We go by the look!" said Dora. "You look as if you're on the right side."

  "You should
n't do that," warned Bond. "The look can be changed. I mean, you're changing the way I look now, aren't you? And some people can take off one look and put on another as easily as you might change a coat." As he said this he unbuttoned his shirt with many pockets, took it off and put it on again inside out. It was dark blue, quite plain, and changed him remarkably. "See?" he said.

  Jake had eyed with considerable doubt before. Now her eyes narrowed and something different began to show in her face. It was a distant cousin of fear—suspicion. Bond had changed his look not merely by changing his shirt. Jake imagined he had somehow managed to pull his face into a different shape, and it made the hair prickle on her head. Dora's hair did not prickle at all. Perhaps it was because Jake's hair was so very short and unshaped by the wonderful Mr Chopperlox.

  "You've got to go by the look!" Dora remarked, surprised that there should be any doubt. "That's what it's there for, so that people can go by it. You can't wait to find out if someone's nice before you rescue them!"

  "Well... you tell us if you're nice or not," Jake said to Bond, a challenging look on her face. Some questions need to be asked even when there is no possible answer. Jake thought her question could not be answered. However Bond tried to answer it as honestly as he could.

  "I think I am good," he said. "I won't steal from you or hurt you. But I might bring trouble down on you. I'm being followed by a kind of danger—and I'll have to move on as soon as I can."

  As he spoke, Dora decided Bond's hair was dry enough. She removed the dryer and the rollers so that his head was covered with glossy sausages. Then she brushed the sausages into fluffy curls. The curls, bright red and shining, made fiery ripples around his ears. "You took the colour exactly!" Dora cried with a dramatic gesture. She pulled Bond to his feet and spun him around to look at his reflection in the mirror over the mantelpiece.

  "Amazing!" said Bond. "It might even... no, probably not. I'll have to go."

  "Go!" wailed Dora. "But we've only disguised you! We haven't rescued you yet! Stay the night."