Читать книгу Adamonde - Benjamin Vance - Страница 9

He had a million questions and she answered most of them perceptually; some literally. He couldn’t answer her questions, if she had any. She was still shading herself for some reason. He had two aliens to worry about then; well at least two.

Adamonde started the stove top again and cooked two eggs and bacon for him and French toast for her. He watched her beautiful backside as she worked and periodically turned to smile at him. He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. It didn’t take long for them to be seated at the table, her at his side, eating with her right hand and toying with his genitals with her left. She liked lots of honey on her French toast and ate with a spoon; always with a spoon.

After breakfast, he decided to take a shower and she followed. However, she dispensed with the monkeying, and he vaguely understood she’d lost some of her desire for him. She squeaked loudly and shook her head. Apparently it was some vague thoughts of not being able to please him. As he gently washed her back with her favorite body wash, he began to erect. His penis touched her side and she turned, looked down and smiled. Both of her hands went to it and she chirped cheerfulness as he grew. She put her finger down to her vulva and chirped at him and shook her head. He said, “Oh, I get it we can’t have sex because of the baby.”

She looked dumbfounded. She cocked her head and grabbed his right middle finger, washed off the soap and inserted it into her damp vagina. It was his turn to look dumbfounded. He said, “What am I supposed to feel, or not feel?”

She looked disappointed and choked out, “Noo … tthheenggg, noootthhhiiinnngggaa!”

“Oh shit, you mean there’s no more peristalsis in your vagina? Does that stop when you’re pregnant? Is that how you knew?”

She quickly nodded her head tentatively, and one idle hand went back to his still engorged but hanging penis. They stared at each other for quiet moments, then she let go of his penis and started gently caressing the rest of his body with fluctuating fingers and toes. He kept up a slow, mechanistic washing of her feminine parts until she felt him erect against her tummy again. She stopped, looked at him and chortled with questions in her eyes. She whispered, “Khyyoo, whhaanntt mhhee?”

He heard more of the question in his mind and asked, “Are you saying you don’t want to make love, we can’t make love with the baby or your peristalsis is gone? I don’t get it.”

She whispered, “Gohhnne, hhitttss gohhnne.”

“Sooooo, does that mean we can’t make love? Will it hurt you or the baby?”

“Knooo, Jon … tathan uuhhrrtt mee-bee.”

“He said, “I don’t think it will hurt me, Sugar, but I sure don’t want to hurt you or our baby. Let’s get out of this shower before we turn to prunes and see if we can discuss this after we dry off.”

She asked, “Prruuunnnees?”

He didn’t respond, just dried her and him with one big beach towel they kept for the purpose. After he dried her, she attached herself to his middle and he carried her to the bedroom, where he lay her down and covered her with only a sheet. He lay down beside her and she used her feet to throw the sheet back to allow him access to whatever of hers he wanted. His groin ached for her and she felt it, and then saw it in his throbbing penis. He said, “Don’t worry about that. There are ways to handle it, if you know what I mean. She didn’t grin, but with some effort whispered and pointed, “Phhuuutt hhiinnn mhheee baahbeee. Aahhdde … hemonntt whhaanntt Jon-tathan.”

He caught a whiff of cinnamon, felt for its smooth wetness, and she arched her back when he touched her there. She looked at him with pleading, pulsing eyes; he adjusted his position and slowly entered her. She squeaked and he stopped. She reached for his hips with feet and arms, pulled him into her and thundered with delight. There was no peristalsis, but the smooth ridges were still there and they caused her to roar and rumble as he passed over them, in and out in their pregnant serenity. His thoughts were a jumble as she started maniacally pulling at him and jerking her hips toward him. He felt the top of her pounding against his penis and became aware she was nowhere to be found in his mind.

He found he was doing what he was born to do and loved it. He placed her legs over his shoulders, pushed them back and pounded her pelvis. She was thrashing her head back and forth; pulling at every part of him she could reach, was soaked with honey and reeked of cinnamon. He heard two pops, glanced back at her exposed, wet spikes and didn’t give a shit. He was reaching his own climax and she was still not in his head. He looked down at their connection and screamed his pleasure as he erupted inside her like a volcano. She opened her mouth, her tongue came out and curled back on itself, she noisily sucked in a deep animal breath, screamed like an eagle and collapsed … unconscious.

Through his misty, fading passion he saw she was breathing normally. He somehow knew she’d succumbed to pleasure and it thrilled him to provide that, after she’d delighted him in so many ways. He waited to remove himself to see if the peristalsis was there; it wasn’t and he guessed it wouldn’t be until after the baby was born; if her species had more than one child over a lifetime. After he pulled himself out and left her small body oozing semen beside him, he lay on his side watching her and thought about her mortality, her propensity to have perhaps more than one baby, perhaps eggs even. He thought maybe that was why she didn’t eat eggs, except as French toast. It was too early in the day to be sleepy, but he covered them both and watched her beautifully peaceful face until he too slept.

***

His cell phone was ringing in his dream, then it wasn’t a dream and his cell was in the dining room. He threw back the covers and all that was left of Adamonde was a big wet spot. On his way to the dining room he heard her answer the phone with a chirp and a chortle. When he rounded the corner of the hall she was standing there nude, with a small towel between her legs and a sleepy smile on her face. He overheard someone on the phone saying, “Adamonde, Adamonde, is that you?” She stuck out her arm with the phone, he took it and kissed her; she hugged him warmly around the middle.

“Hi Linda, it’s me. What can I do for you? Did you get blood work back already?”

“Yeah, Jonathan, and I got a lot of questions about it from one of the pathologists. I haven’t returned his call yet, and won’t ‘til we talk. Can I come over to your place to show you what I have so far?”

Adamonde chirped and hopped once. He said, “Yeah, sure Linda. Come over after work or whenever. But, can I ask you a favor? Will you stop and pick up a bag of marshmallows and three or four cherry-filled doughnuts?”

“Oooo … kay, I guess they’re for Adamonde, huh?”

“Yeah, she’s clapping her hands behind my back already. Okay, see you sometime after 5:30. Be careful.”

Linda arrived about 6:15 p.m. with a dozen doughnuts and two bags of marshmallows. Adamonde practically attacked her at the door. She hugged Linda and grabbed a bag of white. She took them to the sofa squatted with her legs under her and tore open the bag. She crammed the first one in her mouth, growling. Amazed, Linda looked at her and asked, “Why does she keep her finger in front of her face when she eats?”

Jonathan said, “Don’t ask. Where’s the blood work. What’s the problem with it Linda?”

There’s no problem with it, per se. It’s just strange; the combinations and all. I really don’t know which animal to compare it to, and it certainly isn’t human. It looks like a cross between reptile and maybe … marsupial? Her red blood cells are definitely nucleated. And they seem to me to be constructed like our leukocytes or rather neutrophils … to be more specific I guess. In other words they’re disease killers. All her other cells are constructed the same way, except they’re bigger and ovoid or oblong or even kind of square sometimes. It looks like a circus in there. I’d hate to be a bacterial cell in her system.”

He looked at Adamonde who was smiling and stuffing another marshmallow into her mouth, “Soooo, I take it the pathologist can be placated with a bull shit scenario?”

Oh, yeah, he’s my bee-och anyway. First time I met him at his lab he tried to get me to go to lunch with him. He’s not my type in any case, but I get pathology comments from him for free whenever I want ‘em. I just make up some story about the blood getting mixed. What I really wanted to show you are the radiographs; just wait. Do you have a computer with DVD drive?”

“Of course, come on into the office. Do you have the disk with you?”

“Oh yeah, wait ‘till you see it. Here, Adamonde’s radiographs are the only ones on it, so you can keep it if you want. I’d keep it in a safe place, like a safety deposit box or something.”

He loaded up the disk and soon a strange being with 16 ribs came into focus along with a strong spine and loads of internal stuff he had no clue about. Adamonde chortled as if it were a common site.

Dr. Linda started pointing and explaining, “These bones here are what we call collar bones, or clavicles, but hers are savagely strong and set into deep sockets in her scapulae, see. Her neck has a large nuchal ligament which connects her skull with her spine. It seems too strong for someone as small as she, but you say she is very strong, so it’s probably a vestige of a past requirement. Her pubic bones, such as they are, don’t connect with other bones or her spine, but are actually separated by a type of cartilage I guess. They look like they’re just hanging in there.

“It looks like she could have a relatively gi-normous baby. Ours … the human female pelvis, is connected, but during childbirth it gets stretchy or loose in order to give birth. Her pelvis seems to be just hanging in between her leg bones and spine. She also has a greater muscle to bone weight I think. Her bones look like they’re made from aluminum or some other metallic substance, see how dense they look, but she probably has almost no bone weight. Also, they look solid, in other words no medullary canal to produce red blood cells. I don’t know where all the different cells are produced, but they look formidable.” She paused a moment and reflected, “I don’t know why I came over with this shit, but here’s the thing that stumps me the most.”

Dr. Donaldson explained as best she could, she could visualize Adamonde’s reproductive system on the radiographs and she looked pregnant with two fetuses. Jonathan just smiled, and Adamonde, who joined them at the computer, chirped and tinkled her pleasure.

Jonathan said, “She told me this morning. She knew it because her vaginal peristalsis stopped. Apparently it’s just for reproduction; strange, huh? I guess we’re having twin babies, Baby. Linda, I don’t think her pelvic bones are connected because she can twirl like a top to kill an enemy. A stray cat came around while we were outside and she warned it on her left side then spun to her right and hit it with her left spike like she was shooting a bow. It ran about 50 feet and died. I agree, somewhere in her history she’s had a biological need to kill fast and efficiently. That’s the reason I warned you about loose animals in the clinic.”

Linda distractedly responded, “I’m not a geneticist, but it seems every living thing eats, or is eaten; kills or is killed. It would be nice if we could be like plants and get our sustenance from the Earth directly, but then I haven’t seen any sentient plants lately. I rather like being aware of our beautiful world, you know?”

Adamonde, who’d been staring at the computer screen too, tinkled and chimed, and gently touched two small portions of the screen with two index fingers. Linda took note and asked, “Sweetie is that where you think your babies are?”

“Jon … tathan baahbeees.”

She was quiet and Linda kept looking over her X-ray attempting to visualize the particular organ or structure she’d been pointing to. Adamonde finally whispered, “Squeak, click, THRUMB!” Her intensity, conviction and maternal empathy forced tears from both humans. Jonathan leaned over and kissed the pink nape of Adamonde’s neck and there immediately appeared an undulating crest, but light pink rather than red; pronounced all the same, and slowly undulating like a fish’s stabilizing dorsal fin; almost emanating tranquility itself. It intrigued them both; no end.

She stayed there for some time, chirping and peeping to herself as if talking to the babies. Linda blew her nose and accidentally broke the silence enough so Adamonde turned to smile at them. She had pink tracks down her face; her lips were crimson, her eyes almost impossible to look at without squinting. Jonathan said, “My God girl, I didn’t think you could be more beautiful. Linda turned away, then back to the computer screen to allay her mounting sense of irrelevance.

Adamonde caught the sense of Linda’s growing terror, sought to stop it, turned slightly and seamlessly tore into the front of Linda’s blouse. Her large braless breasts swung free and Adamonde placed the side of her face on them and her arms around her waist, comforting Linda the best she knew how. Startled but still, Linda welcomed the affection, and reassurance, but was out a blouse. Jonathan averted his eyes unsuccessfully, due to Adamonde’s mental feedback; actually feeling the warmth of Linda’s body and sensed it affect his groin.

Not placated but accepting, Linda turned to the computer and asked Adamonde if she knew if those structures were where her babies were. Adamonde said, Hiii khnoo haall Aahhdde … hemonntt.”

Linda asked Jonathan, “What … did she just say exactly? I didn’t …” Jonathan cut in with, “She said, ‘I know all Adamonde.’ What that means exactly, I have no idea. Maybe she’s a doctor. Are you a physician, Baby?”

“Khyyoo seelliyy Jon … tathan, knooo pfhee-see-chuun. Aahhdde … hemonntt isss Ghohdeess twhoo haff baahbeees.” She smiled brilliantly at Jonathan and they both understood her: “You silly Jonathan. I’m no physician; I’m a goddess to have babies.”

She looked at them both with no reduction of crimson lips and brilliant eyes, and abruptly went spinning into the kitchen to find more sweets. Intuitively or extra-sensorially they knew the viewing was over. With both arms flat to her sides and her clothing a sensuously tattered mess, Linda said, “Damn it, I need to find someone or something to make love to. I’m going to stay away from here for a while Jonathan … unless … .” Jonathan understood, and looking at her standing there beautifully flirtatious, and unashamed said, “I wish I could Linda, God I wish I could, you’re a gorgeous woman, but I guess I’m too old-school. I’m a one woman man, even with that beautiful little alien in there. Don’t you have anyone you can trust?”

While trying unsuccessfully to arrange her tattered clothing, she said, “Hell no! I had someone who loved me once, a veterinarian too, but he’s in Guatemala at the moment and married … or was married. I haven’t heard from him in three years. I didn’t treat him right.” Just then Adamonde came spinning back into the room, handed Linda a cell phone, twittered and chirped at her like a reproving mother, then growled as she cupped Jonathan’s groin with one hand and steadily gazed at Linda. Neither one knew whether it was a veiled threat, a suggestion, or both.

It took forever for Linda to leave, knowing the morose sensations which would accompany her departure. Jonathan was sympathetic, but the longer Linda exhibited her breasts and attitude, the longer it would take for his shorts to dry. He wanted the wonderful lady gone for his own peace of mind and other things. Meanwhile Adamonde was watching TV and eating marshmallows. He vaguely heard her tink and chime as Linda donned her coat, finally closed the front door and walked slowly to her car looking mostly at the sidewalk. She didn’t call her friend in Guatemala, but said she would, and said she would call Jonathan the next day. She didn’t … do that either.

Three days after Linda’s visit, Jonathan finally gave in to Adamonde’s chirping admonishments and called Linda. She didn’t immediately call back. Toward evening though, Linda called and asked if she could come over. Jonathan was hesitant and told Linda he’d call back. He discussed the situation with the mother of his children to be, but Adamonde did not understand Jonathan’s frustration with Linda. She thought it silly that Jonathan would be tempted by Linda. It took some time to explain, yet … .

Linda arrived around 6:15 p.m. and she looked hot. Jonathan saw her coming down the sidewalk from the driveway and asked Adamonde to answer the door while he escaped to the kitchen. She tinkled and chimed and spun her little nude self to the door to wait. As soon as she felt Linda knock she jerked open the door and grabbed Linda. They were chiming and giggling and it finally overwhelmed Jonathan’s curiosity, and he sought them out. They were just sitting on the couch holding hands and apparently telling each other things about Jonathan without verbally conversing. The closer he got to them the more embarrassed he got. Finally, they recognized him mentally and as he turned the corner he saw Linda had on a “shiny yellow body” and black stockings over it. He simply couldn’t take the mental, sexual, sensual heat of her.

He took Linda tenderly by the hand and although she smiled and giggled thinking she was going have sex with Jonathan, he surprised her by scooping up her hastily discarded outer clothing, ushering her to the door; kissed her fully on the mouth and told her to go home. She was devastated. There was a too-friendly scene on the sidewalk with her and Adamonde, which any close neighbor would have reported, had it actually been witnessed.

As Linda drove away, Adamonde stood inside the front door with her eyes fixed on the opposite wall and sang peacefully in her language, then abruptly stopped singing, severed her connection with Linda and walked into the kitchen. Jonathan felt it profoundly and actually worried about Linda’s state of mind.

Adamonde came to him softly and asked him to hold her. She’d never asked, just jumped. He pulled her to his chest, wrapped her in his arms and was surprised he could put his chin on top of her head. He looked at the floor to make sure she wasn’t standing on a boost. She was apparently growing.

He asked, “Baby, are you growing? You seem taller, but maybe I’m shrinking due to all the body fluids I’m losing.” Adamonde actually giggled, chimed and smiled; her smile then turned to a great silent-wheezing laugh, she grabbed his shoulder with one hand and started to bend over with mirth. He couldn’t believe it. She actually understood he was joking with her. She couldn’t laugh, but by God she was laughing in her own way; sucking in little squeaks with every inhaled breath. The noises she made prompted him to start laughing. Soon they were both on the floor rolling around in a most raucous and sexually shocking way.

When they finally slowed to an occasional giggle, they were both wet and pink and smelling like cinnamon. Jonathan turned his back and secretly made himself a small mustache from some blackish magazine remnants shredded during their passion. She pulled at him curiously, but he turned away to apply it with the sticky remnants of her sweet cinnamon lubricant, then turned to face her with his eyes opened wide and his hands positioned in the air like a terrible creature. She shrieked hysterically and their knee-weakening collective mirth started anew.