The Mars Project by Julie Steimle (english readers TXT) 📖

house where they said a very customary goodbye, unable to say much more. Only Jeff managed to say in his usual tone. “Let me know if the McLennas give you flack for coming in late.”

Zormna nodded and waved. They waited until she walked into the house.

Once she was inside, Brian nearly exploded.

“What in the world happened back there?” he nearly yelled through Jeff’s ear.

Sticking his finger in the auditory canal, Jeff winced. “Ow, Bri. I can hear you fine without you shouting.”

Still upset, Brain did say quieter, “What happened? Did I, or did I not just see Zormna kick Damon and Jared’s butts back there?”

Nodding, knowing there was no way out but to admit to the obvious, Jeff replied, “That, we did.”

Brian nervously burst out laughing. He was trying to catch his breath from his exasperation as Mark and Jonathan started talking at once. Adam and Sam both sat there shaking their heads.

“Did you see the way she just pinched Jared and held him there with her tiny hand? How did she do that?” Mark was trembling either with excitement or complete terror.

“I certainly wouldn’t want to get on her bad side,” Jonathan remarked, still shaking from the incident.

Brian glanced at Jeff, who was staring at the roof of the car as if he was still trying to recover from his embarrassment. “I see now why her breaking your nose was so hard to get over.”

Jeff looked down at him, making eye contact. Smiling truly, he accepted his friend’s sincere apology. “Thanks.”

Brian let off the brake and drove off from the curb.

 

Chapter Eleven: A Few Words Too Many

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“My view is that to sit back and let fate play its hand out and never influence it is not the way man was meant to operate.”—Sen. John Glenn—

 

 

Saturday morning, Zormna arose heavily after a late night. She was aware that she had embarrassed Jeff in front of his friends, and in doing so opened him up to many difficult questions he would have to answer. Yet, still after a long night sleep and thinking about it, Zormna still felt she had done the right thing. True, Jeff probably would have won the fight with that Monroe football player easily, but she doubted he would have won it without seriously wounding the opposition in the process. That, she believed, was completely out of the question. She couldn’t afford having her extra eyes and ears, and her friend (she admitted) taken to Juvenile Hall for fighting—even for a night. Besides the FBI could also use that as an excuse to pick him up for who knows what.

Zormna knew Jeff’s upbringing had made him reflexively prepared for such confrontations. A descendant of famous rebels (as well as singing stars), he had his share of cuts and bruises from dealing with the gangs in his own neighborhood. And after dealing with the People’s Military, he was more than able to take on a stupid punk kid. But now she didn’t want anything happening to him, especially after they had made so much progress in just being nice to each other. She only hoped Jeff wouldn’t hold that night against her. He was a grudge holder, after all. And their friendship was already too shaky.

She quickly dressed then walked down the stairs to see if the McLennas were awake. If they were, she’d have to politely say a few words before slipping off to her house. If not, then she’d just leave without the usual debate.

But once she reached the ground floor, she saw Mindy and Andrew lying on the carpet in front of the television watching Saturday morning cartoons. Jennifer was sitting on the floor reading the comics, and Mr. McLenna was stooped over the inner workings of the vacuum cleaner at the table, struggling to repair it. Mrs. McLenna stood behind him, wringing her hands while watching. She glanced up once Zormna stepped down the last step with an attempt to go around the banister—the final obstacle on her way to the front door.

“Where are you going?” Mrs. McLenna asked curtly.

Zormna winced and stopped. She turned around. “I was going to my house.”

Mrs. McLenna’s eyes narrowed in spite. “What for? The culture fair is over. You are done with your schoolwork, I’m sure. What reason can you possibly have to go there?”

Mr. McLenna lifted his eyes toward Zormna with the same spite, frustrated with his task and angry that now Zormna was getting off without working at all.

Zormna stepped toward them and responded like a soldier. “I thought it was better to ease my boredom in a place away from under your feet. And I need to clean it. It gathers dust if I don’t. And I ought to cut the lawn.”

Mr. McLenna frowned. “We have work here that all of us have to do. You should at least do something constructive to contribute before you go off and raise hell.”

Cleaning house was raising hell? Trying not to roll her eyes, Zormna approached Jennifer’s father with a glance at his work. Without a word, she picked up his needle nose pliers and pulled out the hair that was wrapped around the spinning part of the vacuum sweeper. Then, nudging him aside, she sniffed the machine, made a face and clipped off the old vacuum belt. Dipping her hand into his toolbox, she searched, then remarked, “You need a new vacuum belt. It didn’t work because of the hair which cause the belt rubber to melt. The engine is fine.”

Mr. McLenna’s jaw dropped. He glanced at his wife. He then gazed downward introspectively. “Can you fix cars?” he asked.

Zormna shrugged. A trace of interest flickered in her eyes. “I can fix almost any machine. Basic training.”

Mrs. McLenna glanced at her husband delivering a can-you-trust-her look. He seemed resolved that he could, as it only involved a car and not the life of his children. Mr. McLenna rose to his full height and looked down at Zormna with some of his old strength.

He said, “I need my car fixed. If you fix that, you can go wherever you please.”

Zormna smiled with an almost saluting nod.

*

When Jeff pulled up in his truck at Jennifer’s house to check on Zormna, he noticed several weird things. First, that the FBI car which usually sat on the curb was nowhere to be seen. He had expected them, upon his arrival, to get poised for intense surveillance. But the second weird thing he saw almost made him burst out laughing. The hood to McLenna’s car was propped open with Zormna’s tiny figure dangling out of it. Mr. McLenna also stood nearby, pointing out things in the engine while handing her tools. Jeff could have sworn her remembered Zormna saying Mr. McLenna would not let her near his tools, let alone the engine of that car she had bought. Now he was helping her mess with his?

Parking just a few feet from where the FBI car usually sat, Jeff quietly turned off his engine and climbed out. Zormna and Mr. McLenna didn’t even turn their heads. Mostly likely they assumed it was the FBI returning, thinking there was no point in looking up. So, Jeff gently closed the door and crossed the street to their carport, gazing inquisitively at them.

Mr. McLenna looked up this time, hearing foot falls. He shifted a little as his eyes narrowed sharply on Jeff.

“Alright, as far as I can see, these fluid lines are now secure, and the tubing is not cracking. I think the problem might be in these valves here. They could be clogged, causing the pressure that keeps making your tubes pop off,” Zormna called from inside the engine. Her hair on one side was a little blackish with oil, and her cheek had a streak across it where apparently she had pushed her hair out of the way. It was beautiful.

Jeff peered over Zormna’s shoulder into the engine, smirking. She just seemed so comfortable there.

Mr. McLenna continued to glare at him as he responded to the girl elbow-deep in his engine. “Uh, huh. So what do you recommend?”

Looking up at him, she replied, “An oil cleaning corrosive that won’t damage your engine. Do you have any seerpin?”

Mr. McLenna gave her a dark look, hissing through his teeth with a peek at Jeff. “You should know we don’t have that.”

“Ever tried cola?” Jeff offered. “Sometimes we clean our engine with Coke. It works well.”

Zormna jumped, nearly hitting her head on the hood.

“Jafarr, don’t startle me like that!” She rubbed her head, getting more grease on it.

Jeff shrugged then glanced up at Mr. McLenna.

But the man’s looks had gotten even darker in a stare at him. “Why you little….”

Jeff closed his eyes, cringing. He kept forgetting Zormna always went back to his real name when startled or nervous.

Mr. McLenna started, backing away from Jeff as if he had the plague. “You pretended to be my son’s friend, didn’t you?”

Zormna looked up then winced, ducking her head. “Sorry….”

Jeff shook his head, waving it away. “Just forget it. Despite your loose lips, he’d have figured it out anyway without you blowing it. And honestly, I’m glad it happened when the FBI was gone.”

Both Zormna and Mr. McLenna looked back to the empty road, though Zormna masked a smirk.

“Where did they go, anyway?” Jeff asked. “Did you do something?”

“Wait a second.” Mr. McLenna held up his hand, staring at Jeff. Then he looked to Zormna. “What is really going on here? When you came last spring, you said you were here to live with your great aunt. But you know him, don’t you?”

Moaning, Zormna hung her arms. “Oh for pity’s sake…”

“Don’t be mistaken, Mr. McLenna,” Jeff interjected. “She never intended to meet me here. And she never lied to you.”

“Except about—” Mr. McLenna looked ready to shout, but Jeff lifted his eyebrows pointing around at where the FBI car had been. Then gestured to his ear. The man stiffened, glaring again to Zormna as if he had been manipulated by her the entire time.

In a lower voice, Jeff replied, “She didn’t lie to you. She just didn’t tell you who she was entirely.”

“And you know?” Mr. McLenna bit back.

“Yes,” Jeff said, chin stiff. “Including her rank and position in the Patrol. I know her because I encountered her before on a number of occasions. And I came to the U.S. to get away from…well, not her specifically, but you get the idea. We had no intention of ever meeting again.”

Peeking at her, Mr. McLenna whispered, “And what is her rank?”

Sighing, Jeff shook his head. “Let’s keep you ignorant. The FBI are watching somewhere, and I’d hate to see a fellow countryman get hurt.”

Zormna’s eyes had been down the entire time.

But Mr. McLenna stepped back from Jeff again. “You know, I can’t tell if you are warning me or threatening me.”

Jeff smiled. His dark eyes glittered as he replied quietly, “Yes. To both.”

“You don’t look Guard Class,” Mr. McLenna murmured, peering hard at Jeff’s hands.

Chuckling, Jeff gazed at the man with a smirk, lifting both palms. “Then use your eyes and think about what I do look like.”

Mr. McLenna shook his head slowly. “But…they would never leave—”

Jeff stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked on his feet. “Shows what you know…” Then he