Forms of Love

by Rita Clay Estrada

  “She wasn’t,” he said automatically.

  “Shame on you,” she chided. “You’re old enough to know that no one is ever all right or all wrong. Least of all, Kendra. Don’t forget she was the only child of doting parents. She’d never had to deal with much adversity, so she hadn’t learned how to be strong. Before Hannah’s death, she led you around by the nose most of the time.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “I don’t know why, but you always thought you must have done something wrong that you weren’t ever aware of. You always thought you’d done something so hideous that it drove her away.”

  The depth of her perception hit him hard.

  “Get some gas, Dan, before we run out.”

  He snapped his attention back to her. Had he heard the words aloud or only in his mind? She sat calmly next to him, her eyes on the road, her expression a pleasant blank.

  With a silent obedience foreign to him, he pulled off the highway and into a self-serve gas station. After a long look at his passenger, he stepped out of the Jeep and began the process of filling the tank and checking the oil. All the while he kept an eye on his rider, wondering when she would disappear and he would come to his senses.

  Climbing into the driver’s seat, he stared at her. She was still there, waiting calmly for him to continue the trip. Twisting the key in the ignition, he ground the starter until it caught, then shifted the vehicle into gear and pulled into traffic. He kept his passenger within his peripheral vision. His mind started to work again.

  He remembered something she’d said earlier. “What training?”

  “We have tapes that teach us your human customs. They give us everyday knowledge of earthly expressions, history and current events.”

  His gaze darted to hers. “What are you?”

  Kendra leaned back and smiled at the brightness of the sun hitting the dash. “I’m a Herfronite.”

  “What the hell is that?” Frustration swamped him again. Everything was out of control—including his mind.

  “Herfron is a planet one galaxy away.”

  Slamming on the brakes, he brought the Jeep to a halt on the shoulder of the road. He turned and reached for the slim shoulders next to him. But when he touched her, his hands immediately gentled to a caress.

  “Don’t hurt me, Dan. Never hurt me.”

  His fingers sought and found her birdlike collarbones. “What would you do if I beat you?”

  Her large brown eyes stared up at him so calmly he could have got lost in them. “Put you to sleep instantly, then I would leave and let you awaken with no memory of anything that happened to you over this past week. You’d have to learn of Kendra’s death all over again and go through the pain of seeing her parents, her grave.”

  “You could do that?” He stared into her eyes, mesmerized by their soporific effect on him.

  “Yes. Although I’ve never done it before, the training tapes taught us the methods to use.”

  He believed her. “How?”

  “I can tranquillize your mind, then erase what I want or substitute some other actions.” She shrugged and he felt her muscles tighten and respond. “I knew you were coming and pulled you over to pick me up. Didn’t you feel that compulsion?”

  “I saw Kendra.” He searched her face again. “But you’re not her. You resemble her, but you’re not her.”

  “Right. But her memories of the past six months are mine. I was there when she died and I absorbed her memories and emotions. I tried to soothe those last moments for her.” She smiled sweetly, proud of her accomplishments. “I think I did.”

  “Why did you find me?”

  “Because she asked me to tell you about her thoughts and wants. I promised I would do so.”

  “Why would you do that? Why not just promise and then cut and run?”

  “We keep our promises.” She furrowed her brow. “We aren’t supposed to promise anything to anyone down here, but she was so...so adamant.”

  “This is ridiculous,” he stated once more. It was easier to deny this conversation than to accept it.

  A new thought entered his head and wouldn’t let go. “Did you kill her?” His hands tightened on her shoulders. He didn’t know how he knew, he just knew she would allow him to force her only so far.

  “No. I was just in the right place at the right time.” Her hands covered his. “She was my connection to a human personality.”

  Connection? Nothing in this conversation made sense.

  “She was the human I needed to create a human identity while here on Earth,” she explained.

  “But you’re not human, dammit!” His fingers tightened again.

  “No, We are Mais—a third-generation mixture. Our planet is the leader in math and engineering. Our species is mentally brilliant but physically weak. We began looking for a race we could mix with, a race that would contribute their strength while we retain our own intelligence, our mental powers. We’ve been working on it for the past hundred years and with the help of good DNA engineering, we’re finally succeeding.”

  “You mean—” Dan’s mind whirled as he stared at her features, the texture of her skin, the freckles on her nose....

  “I mean that genetically I’m a human, mentally I’m a Herfronite.” She shrugged lightly and his hands dropped from her shoulders. He didn’t know whose will dictated it, but they now lay in his lap.

  “I’m crazy. I’m really crazy.”

  “No,” she soothed, stroking his arm. “But you’re exhausted. Why don’t you let me drive for a while and you sleep in the back seat?”

  “No! I’ll drive.”

  “As you wish.” She faced forward again, waiting for him to begin driving. No games, no pretending. She just took him at his word.

  He put the car in gear and once more edged onto the paved road. A sign said Castroville 30 Mi. If he wasn’t crazy and this woman beside him really was what she claimed, he could pull into that town and ask for help. He almost grinned at the thought of running into a police station and yelling about invaders from outer space. It sounded like something out of a bad science fiction movie. They’d think he was nuts!

  He drove in silence for half an hour before hitting the outskirts of Castroville. Should he pull in?

  It would do no good except to discredit you, Dan, a voice in his head said. It was clear as a bell, each word crisp with meaning; it was her voice.

  He looked at her. “You did that,” he accused.

  She nodded.

  “How?”

  “It’s called malking. I speak to your mind.”

  “Can I do it?”

  “To me? Yes. To others of your race? Not yet, although you’re only about five hundred years away from doing so.”

  “How do you know?”

  She lifted her brows, obviously surprised he could ask such a question. “Our training tapes said so.”

  “Ah, yes. The training tapes. You mentioned that you were part human. Third generation. Then why do you call yourself a Her—?”

  “Herfronite?”

  “Yes. Explain it to me.”

  “Your scientists have been seriously playing with genetics for the past fifty years or so. Before the laboratory experiments you mated according to your Darwin theory. The strongest and brightest of the species propagate each other.”

  “That’s in animals,” Dan protested.

  “Even in medieval times, your people’s strategy was to marry strength with beauty in order to produce the best for their kingdom. It’s no different with any other planet. Each generation wants what is best for their descendants.”

  “Somehow I don’t think that’s the same as playing at gene-splicing.”

  “It’s exactly the same,” she corrected gently. “Only on a more primitive level.”

  “I see. To you we’re some kind of chimp involved in a laboratory experiment,” he stated dryly, not really believing it himself.

  She looked surprised that he understood so quickly. “That’s rig
ht.”

  “Are you kidding?” His voice rose with each syllable.

  “No.”

  “Are you telling me you’ve used humans in experiments?”

  “Yes. That’s how I came to be.”

  “By mixing two races? Ovum and sperm? Splicing genes!”

  “In the beginning, yes.”

  “How?”

  “The usual way.” Her chuckle was soft and light in the confines of the car.

  “You mean to tell me some Herfronite came down here and screwed one of our own, had a baby and then sent that baby down here to repeat the procedure?”

  “Yes.” She frowned. “Primitive, but it worked. Now we use other means. It’s easier.”

  “Lady, you’re sick,” he said disgustedly. “You need a hospital with padded walls and I need to be in the next room.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I find it hard to believe that anyone would make love to some weirdo from outer space just because they needed the release.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s disgusting, that’s why!”

  She turned her head and stared, her big brown eyes focusing on him as if he were under a microscope. His hands clenched on the wheel. As hard as he tried to fight it, a heat slowly spread through his groin, growing, producing that heavy feeling that came just before one hell of an erection. Then he had that, too. Only his whole body wasn’t aroused; those feelings were localized in his groin.

  “Stop it,” he gritted through his teeth, and immediately the pressure began to ease.

  Kendra leaned back, closing her eyes as if she was tired.

  They sailed through Castroville without slowing down.

  Kendra’s eyes were still closed, her head leaning back. But he knew she wasn’t asleep, just weary. Had the mind controlling, body controlling she had just done made her tired? If that was the case, he should make her even more tired. What for? he asked himself. There was nothing he could do except drop her by the side of the road and run. But something deep inside told him that if he found the answers to his Kendra’s problems, he would begin to understand the change in their life together.

  If what this woman said was true, his Kendra hadn’t walked in front of that car on purpose. It had really been an accident, just as Ed had said. At least that was something. “She wanted a baby. She wanted to be a mother. After we lost the first one...we’d tried for so long.” He took a deep breath. “You’re crazy and I’m even crazier for listening to you. You’re a figment of my imagination, and this is something I dreamed up because I don’t want to believe that Kendra’s dead. It’s a defense mechanism.”

  “Believe what you will, I speak the truth.”

  The late-afternoon sun slanted into Kendra’s side of the vehicle and she averted her face from its rays, curling into a ball on the seat and turning her back toward the heat.

  “Kendra?”

  “Yes?”

  “But why? I was always there for her! Always!” After Hannah died, he’d tried to reach out to Kendra, but she had cut him out of her life, eliminating any need for the closeness or tenderness that he offered. Soon, she’d eliminated the need to even converse with him. He’d missed the touching, the stroking, the meeting of minds. He’d missed it so much it became a constant ache.

  “She was always afraid to get pregnant again.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “She felt you had so much to keep you occupied and busy with your career. When you were home, she was afraid you would try to get her pregnant and then she’d have to go through another death. She was terrified of that. So she turned off the need for your touch, your presence. But your mind was elsewhere. Until bedtime. Then you added the pressure of sex—not the relief of touching without demand.”

  He felt the defense mechanism he had used for so long rise to protect him. “She never told me she didn’t want sex.”

  “She also hated her fear of pregnancy and tried to fight against it. It was just too hard for her to win. She wasn’t strong, Dan.”

  “That’s not true. She did all kinds of things that only a strong person could do. When I was out of town, she was on her own, taking care of bills, repairmen, everything.”

  Kendra’s eyebrows rose. “She followed a budget, cleaned house between the maid’s weekly visits, put checks in envelopes and kept your clothing clean. Did she run out of money? Not have the best appliances? Where was the stress?”

  “She was alone.”

  Kendra nodded. “She was lonely. That’s not the same and isn’t necessarily stress.”

  Kendra had been his breath, his life. And she was gone. He had loved her with all his heart. He’d have done anything he could to make her happy; he just hadn’t known what else to do. His breath caught in his throat. “I tried.”

  “I know.”

  His fist slammed against the steering wheel. “Every year we took off like this to Big Bend! I tried to make it as romantic as I could. Just the two of us, dammit! Every year!”

  “And she loved it. There was nothing to take away your attention. You focused on her.”

  “Then why did she put a stop to the trips?”

  “For that same reason. She was afraid you would learn of her fears. She didn’t think she’d make it through another death, Dan. As much as she loved you, she was frightened of you. She called off the trips and finally called off the marriage.”

  Dan remembered now. He’d come home from New York and begun talking about what they would need to pack for the anniversary trip to Big Bend. The more he talked the quieter she became. That night he had tried to draw her into his arms, but she had pleaded illness. Acting like a spoiled child and with a dramatically heavy sigh, he’d turned over and fallen immediately to sleep. Without touching, without cuddling.

  The next morning she had left for her parents’ home. He didn’t know until he returned home to find a note and an empty apartment. She’d left for good. Her good. His good.

  Damn!

  First had come anger. How dared she leave him like that! Then had come fear. Would she return? Should he accept her back? And if he did, would he do so grudgingly, generously or thoughtfully?

  But after a phone call to her parents, confusion had set in. Upon entering her parents’ door she had collapsed and they couldn’t stop the flow of tears. After several hours, they had taken her to the doctor’s office. From there she was admitted to a psychiatric ward. Ed and Margaret had kept him informed after that.

  Why hadn’t he seen it coming? Maybe if he’d known, he could have fended it off. Stopped the downward spiral. Gotten her help. Done something!

  Six months later she went to live with her parents, and he was only allowed limited visitation. Every time he saw her she seemed more distant. Each time, he felt the chasm widen between them and panicked at the thought of never having Kendra in his life. He begged her to come home. She said no. He demanded she return to him. She said no.

  After two years of this, he’d made up his mind that if she said no during the next visit—this visit—he would accept it. He’d take the job in Israel, and try to begin a new life.

  Dan had never been given an explanation for Kendra’s leaving before. He’d dissected his marriage from beginning to end, but had found no answers.

  Now he knew.

  Assuming, of course, that he was sane; that the strange woman who resembled Kendra was really seated next to him.

  And that this Kendra was right about his Kendra.

  2

  FLAT ARID LAND turned bumpy with brush and trees, like a scruffy three-day-old beard on the face of Earth. Dan used to tell his wife that when God decided to change the scenery He hadn’t wanted to shock his children with anything too drastic, so he created the high desert.

  He drove straight through the small town of Brackettville. Because of the terrain, it was the site of many Western movies, including The Alamo. Dan continued toward Del Rio. His hands were firmly on the wheel, his feet leaden
on the pedals. But his mind was occupied with everything but the act of driving.

  Kendra slept.

  Soon, signs of civilization appeared, telling him he wasn’t far from the town he’d chosen to spend the night. He passed the main entrance to a military air base, slowing down as the traffic became congested.

  “Kendra, wake up,” he said softly, almost afraid to have her alert. So much had buzzed through his mind since he’d picked her up that there had been no time to digest it. Perhaps when she stretched and awakened, she would turn into an ordinary hitchhiker. Perhaps....

  The young woman who looked so much like his wife straightened her spine and stretched her hands out in front of her, nearly touching him. Although she looked totally relaxed, she also seemed instantly alert. “Umm,” she murmured, glancing around the small town before allowing her large brown eyes to settle on him inquisitively. “So this is where we’re stopping for food?”

  “Yes.”

  “At that lovely restaurant? The one with the car in the lobby?”

  He glanced at her before focusing on the road again. “How did you know?”

  She pulled her midnight-dark mane of hair together and finger combed it back over her shoulders. “I saw it when you thought of it.”

  He wasn’t dreaming. She was still a nut case.

  She waited for a response, but he gave his complete attention to the twisting road leading toward Amistad Dam. “Are you not going to formulate thoughts anymore?”

  “Yes.” His answer was short and succinct.

  “Will you allow me to read them?”

  “I don’t see how I can stop you.” His voice was bitter with futility. He wasn’t sure his frustration was with her as much as it was with trying to deal with all the emotions that were flooding him.

  “Oh, that’s easy.” She swung her legs to the floorboards and stretched them out. They were tanned, long, supple.... “Think nonemotionally.”

  “And you can’t read them?”

  “Not easily.” Her brow furrowed. “I’ve noticed that my ability to malk with my own kind has become a problem since I first came here. I’ve been trying to figure it out, but came up with too many possibilities. Perhaps the reason we don’t allow our people to stay here longer is that we lose that which makes us different from you.”