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

might, for it is our right, ‘cause we are number one!

As they cheered and yelled and screamed, Zormna took a long breath, bending at her knees. She looked up to where Jeff was watching her from the midst his friends with a gaze that had such a sorry, yet amused expression. Zormna could feel it in her bones that this day was going to take a lot out of her.

*

“I still don’t see why you won’t come to the dance,” Jennifer said after the game. They were at the gate that led out of the school grounds.

Zormna shook her head. “I have to prepare the house for the party. Maybe I can even sneak in a little nap.”

Jennifer sighed in a way that was more sad than usual. “We never do anything together anymore. Can’t you come for at least one dance?”

Shaking her head while looking at the ground, Zormna replied, “No. I don’t think it would be wise for me to go if I want to be awake for tomorrow. Besides, you’ll be with Kevin. You won’t even miss me.”

Not entirely agreeing, Jennifer still nodded and watched her go.

“I’ll go with her,” Darren suddenly cut in from a shadow.

Startled, Jennifer lifted her eyes toward Darren who was already jogging out to Zormna on the street. Zormna didn’t seem as startled that he was there. She smiled and talked with him as they walked. Their relationship had improved a lot since the start of the year.

“So, you really don’t want this party?” Darren asked.

Zormna shrugged. “Not exactly. Watching Jeff, he seems to imply that this party might not be entirely what I would want.”

Darren nearly laughed. “This is according to Jeff? Since when did you take your cues from him?”

Zormna smiled. “He’s better experienced at cultural things than I am. And besides, we understand each other.”

Nodding while swallowing his laughs, Darren said, “Ok, so what kind of party is this?”

Shrugging, she continued toward her house, almost trudging. “I’m not sure. Brian says he and Adam will take care of food and entertainment. I don’t know exactly what you do at parties here. Ours were usually dancing and feasting.”

He nodded again. It was starting to come clear for Darren. Secretly, he smiled that they talked about Zormna’s home world one more time. She did not often mention her home much, and he was not allowed to ask.

They approached her house. Zormna pulled out the key for her door with a glance across the street. There, as usual, she saw the FBI car conveniently parked, prepared to make observations in hopes of slip-ups. She squinted at the vehicle. Smirking, Zormna stopped fishing for keys and instead headed toward the car across the street.

Both men inside sat up when they saw her approach. One man started the engine, perhaps preparing to escape another mini EMP device. This was a new car after all.

Calling from the middle of the empty street, Zormna said, “Do you want to come inside and bug the house? We’re having a party at my place tonight.” Then laughing, she added, “But I guess you already know that, huh?”

The agents in the car pulled into first gear and rolled down the road, perhaps to go around the block to find a more covert spot to park.

“No?” She called after them with wave. “Ok. See you later!”

Darren stood on the front step watching with his mouth open. Shaking his head, he asked, “Why do you do that?”

Zormna shrugged as she walked back up the steps to unlock the door. “It’s fun.”

He shook his head as he followed her in. “You’re nuts.”

 

People didn’t start coming to the house until nine thirty, and those that did come Zormna didn’t even know. She had them sit outside on the lawn to wait for Adam whose party it was. They made several rude remarks about her, a number of which Zormna had learned never to repeat in mixed company, let alone in any company—making her inclined to get out the water hose to spray them off her lawn. Adam didn’t come until nine forty-five. Brian and Sam and the rest of them showed up with him, carrying in several ice chests of sodas and lots of chips. Mark and Jonathan brought in two very large speakers. Zormna’s mouth gaped once she saw them. They also brought another music player, just in case. Jeff walked in empty-handed at the tail end of the group, hands in pockets and an apologetic look on his face. His so-called brother Alex came in behind him. Several cheers and thrilled greetings were thrown Alex’s way, but Jeff only smirked.

Zormna heard words of “Where you been, man?” and responses of “Oh, working,” pass between Alex and the boys there several times. When Alex reached Zormna at the kitchen, he let an accommodating smirk cross his face.

“Zormna,” he said.

She nodded. “Al.”

Alex smiled, stepping a little closer. He was taller than Jeff by two inches, which meant he towered over Zormna by at least a foot. “I heard you were having a party.”

She grinned wider, staring up at him. “Are you here to keep things under control?”

He shrugged then dug out a soda from the cooler on the counter. “Something like that.”

Peering up at him with a narrower look, Zormna asked, “Where have you been?”

He popped open the can and took a sip. “Workin’.”

She smirked, thinking I bet you have. The work Alex was probably up to had mostly to do with the revolution—though he also helped pay the house expenses by working at the auto shop. And though Zormna was curious about what the rebellion was doing at the moment, she knew now was not the time to ask.

The party started ok. They played some of their favorite songs mostly and danced. Many more people came in and filled the house, dancing and talking. Many more enjoyed exploring the mysterious crazy woman’s house. Most stared at the desert paintings on the walls and peered at the odd wooden carvings of suns that also hung on the walls, though most were searching for antennas and weird things in the silverware drawer. Instead they found some rather nice silver forks and knives to a set—and soon after that they discovered the rather irate owner standing next to them asking them why they were going through her silverware.

Zormna ended up pushing out the drinks chests, then barred the rest of way to the kitchen to protect her crystal and porcelain eating ware, though it did not work once her back was turned. Many people made it past her barrier to look into her fridge to see what the niece of a town nut ate. All of them were sorely disappointed when they discovered the fridge was mostly empty, except for the packages of cheese and juice containers, along with a singular carton of eggs. They glanced at her once as if she were loony then left the kitchen.

Many explored the upstairs.

“Look at that! It’s a canopy,” one girl exclaimed.

Zormna jumped up and rushed out of the kitchen when she heard those words. The crowd was already too thick by that time. She could hardly see the other side of the room for the number of people in her living room. The music was turned up even louder and dancers were now standing on the couches. And someone was sitting on the player piano. Zormna tried to look over the crowd, but found it impossible to see past the sea of heads and bodies, jumping up and down and jerking to the beat in the song.

“Hey, this one is locked,” another voice said from the upper floor.

It was her junk room. It had been mostly cleared, and now contained storage for things she still had to get rid of.

Zormna pressed through the crowd faster. Pushing and scrambling under and around people’s feet, she almost fell over. On the floor, Zormna could see someone had spilled soda on her carpet. She crawled farther and found another strange odor she was not familiar with. It was another spill, but it didn’t smell like cola. Taking a whiff, she wrinkled her nose. It wasn’t vomit either, but it didn’t look good.

She continued to push through the bodies to the stairs. Zormna almost fell on the steps when she got out. Turning, Zormna gazed up the stairs to landing. There, just three steps up, were two of her classmates—Tammy from History and Michael from English ‘sucking face’, as Jennifer put it. Revolted, gagging, Zormna just closed her eyes and rushed up the stairs past them.

When she reached the top, she swung around the banister then flung herself into the open junk room doorway. They had figured out how to open it.

“What are you doing in here?” she exclaimed, already out of breath.

All three boys’ eyes popped up at Zormna.

“What is this stuff?” the first pimply teenager asked, pulling a shepherdess knick-knack from a box.

Glaring, “What does it look like? It’s junk. Now get out.” She jerked the glass figurine out of his hand and tossed it back into the box along the wall.

One guy just sat on the fancy loveseat, not intimidated and certainly distracted. “Cool, what’s this? Why do you have this old TV in here?”

Zormna scowled. “It is broken, and we didn’t have room in the truck to take it to the junkyard.”

“Do you have one that works?” he asked.

Rolling her eyes she shook her head, Zormna. “Yeah, the one downstairs.”

“Why did she keep all this stuff?” another asked, picking through the boxes. There were about a billion scarves and shepherdess figurines. There was also the old satellite dish from the roof, which she had intended to sell.

Moaning to herself, Zormna slouched. “I don’t know why. She was crazy. You tell me.”

One decided to. “I think she really tried to contact Mars. She used to drain lots of energy from the houses around here that hiked up her neighbor’s bills. And some people say she has this crazy radio that she uses to—”

Zormna rolled her eyes and shoved them out of the room. “That’s it. Stop snooping. It’s just junk. Even the FBI wouldn’t find anything in this mess.”

The boys shared a look, peeking once at her. Zormna stormed out of the room, closing the door again. When she stepped out, she peered over the banister to the crowds below. Her view gave her a different perspective for the party. Top view. Most of the kids were dancing and hopping, making a grand noise. But she also noticed a cluster sharing a reefer in her front doorway.

Her eyes widened.

Immediately Zormna hurdled over the top banister, landing right at the bottom of the stairs. The near crowd jumped back from her and screamed.

The other strange smell had also increased in the room. That was no soda smell. Zormna clenched her teeth, her eyes narrowing into slits, plunging into the crowd. Zormna pushed her way to the music player. She immediately punched off the power button.

The conversation and thumping dance that rumbled in the room quivered down to a murmuring: “Where did the music go?”

Adam looked up from his date who had her arms wrapped around his neck as they danced close.

Brian glanced up from his group on the couch. They had been laughing at some obviously involved and private joke like usual. Mark and Jonathan were glaring up at their now scattered winnings from their card game—the result of people stepping on them to get away from Zormna who stood on top of the piano bench, livid.

Jeff and Alex were outside when the music stopped, trying to usher away the ridiculously drunk as well as herd away the new bringers of the brew. Zormna bellowed in her Irish-like brogue. “ALL YOU DRUNKS GET OUT NOW!”

Jeff looked to Alex.

Alex glanced back at him.

They both dashed to the door, shoving aside the weed-smoking teenagers in the doorway then pressing through the crowd to reach the house owner.

“I WANT ALL YOU UNINVITED PILFERERS TO TAKE YOUR FOUL MESS OUT OF MY