Free Red the First by C. D. Verhoff

left Mrs. Jenkins’s
house.
    “ Don’t you see how this is a
breakthrough? I’m not just hearing your thoughts, I’m seeing what
you see, feeling what you feel. This means my ability to read a
person isn’t limited by language. When you spoke in Arabic, I
didn’t understand the words, but I saw the cheeseburger you
pictured in your mind. And it was loaded with everything. I felt
your mouth salivate at the thought of it, I could smell the onions,
and I also felt a pang of sadness over the fact you can’t have them
anymore, at least not until Veronica’s ready to start butchering
some of the herd. Personally, I hate hamburgers, and I don’t miss
them a bit.”
    Red scratched his temple. His wife was
more aware of what was going on in his head than he was. How very
disturbing. “Woman!” he said a little more forcefully than he had
intended. “Stay out of my mind.”
    “ Don’t act like a caveman,
Red,” she snorted. “Trust me when I say that I have better things
to do than poke around in that thing on top of your neck all day.
It takes a lot of concentration to do it and I have enough on my
own mind without having to worry about what’s on yours.”
    “ Duly noted.”
    “ My ability isn’t completely
reliable, but imagine how handy it would be if we were traveling
abroad.”
    “ Yes, I’m sure it will be
useful when we board that next flight to Paris,” Red remarked
sarcastically. “Or the next time we visit the Great
Wall.”
    “ Humph.” Elizabeth took her
empty plate to the counter and slammed it into the sink. “Who are
you to mock me? At least I don’t believe in grocery store aliens!
What do you think it was shopping for—panty liners?”
    Red sent imaginary darts at his wife’s
head. He had told her the entire tale on the condition she would
not belittle him or tell another soul. He shoved everything off of
the table with a sweep of his arm, sending plates, glasses, serving
dishes and silverware alike crashing to the floor. As he stormed
out of the house, he heard Elizabeth shout at him.
    “ Real mature of you, Red.
Like I said before, you’re a big, grumpy ass!”
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 12
     
    Elizabeth regretted bringing up the
alien in such a condescending way, but Red had made light of her
ability to read thoughts. She frowned at the mess on the floor,
knowing the dishes would stay there forever unless she cleaned up
the remains herself. The food was a different story. She cleared up
the glass shards and dish fragments, and opened the back door and
yelled for Zena. The dog was a living garbage disposal. A mound of
black and brown fur bounded out of the woods, through the garden
and back door, sliding to a stop in front of Elizabeth. The dog
knew that when Elizabeth called, it could only mean one
thing—cleanup duty.
    All Elizabeth had to do was stand over
the mess and point. “Treat!”
    The dog wasn’t picky. As long as the
vegetables were coated in oil, or in dressing, it was the next best
thing to steak. Zena gulped dinner down in less than a minute.
Elizabeth let her lick the floor clean, patted her on the head, and
then opened the back door. Zena chose to curl up on the living room
rug instead, ignoring Elizabeth’s order to go outside.
    “ Even the dog doesn’t listen
to me,” Elizabeth complained.
    After cleaning the greasy spots with
soap and water, she plopped down on a rocker, nursing her wounded
pride.
    Zena was asleep on her back, snoring
away, privates totally exposed as her hind legs splayed out in
utter relaxation. At least someone was content. Elizabeth retrieved
her lopsided experiment in basket weaving from the coffee table and
started working the reeds in and out, in and out, hoping the
repetitive motion would calm her down.
    Red could be such an insensitive jerk.
She let out a long sigh. After an hour of working on the basket,
and numerous splinters in her fingers, the handle popped off and
scratched her chin. She was swearing when a knock rattled the