A (Not So) Healthy Dose of Chaos: A New World

  “Not a problem at all.”

  “Good! It will take me some time, but I should be there in about two hours.”

  “Got it. I’ll be here.”

  “Good! See you then.”

  “Likewise.”

  He pressed the ‘hang up’ button and replaced the phone on its stand. He considered if it was her habit to add ‘Good!’ to the beginning of every other sentence, and then went back to finishing up looking at canned goods.

  Ken became concerned when it came to the two hour mark and hadn’t seen hide or hair of the lady on the phone. He thought she was just running late, and started working outside near the driveway to be there when she arrived.

  In the end, it was three hours before she showed up. Ken had been sweeping the driveway when a minivan pulled into the driveway.

  The driver turned the minivan off, opened the door, and stuck her head out. “Kenaeth Goldwrite?”

  “That’s me.”

  “Good! I’m sorry, but I’m sorely behind schedule.”

  “Not as if I had much to do.”

  Amelta was, in a word, cute. It didn’t really matter that she had the skin color of a peach, or dark spots that went from her brow, down her face and neck, each about the size of a small chocolate kiss.

  She had an exasperated look on her face, as if she was always on the go. One glance at her and anyone could tell she was an oddball: the kind of person that even small animals chase, and one who trips over buckets full of water.

  Ken quickly checked to see if there were any buckets of water around, and was relieved to find none.

  She fumbled in the back of her car, pulled out a briefcase, then walked up to him, extending her hand. Ken shook it, noting how soft it was. He put the broom against the edge of the windowsill and led her into the bottom floor of the house.

  “Here’s a living area. I usually stay down here during the summer, because it’s cooler.”

  A couple of feet away, he showed her a storage room, and farther back on the first floor, showed her two bedrooms.

  On the top floor, they went through the living room, dining area, kitchen, two more bedrooms, and the bathroom with bath and shower. Ken was using the master bedroom, so it was off limits to any guests.

  He led her back out to the living room, and she sat down on the sofa as Ken made coffee. Amelta was writing down notes at an insane pace, and as he brought over her coffee, glanced down and saw the notes that were written in some alien language. He placed her cup on the coffee table in front of her, but she seemed to be completely oblivious to it.

  Without looking up from her memo pad, she picked up the cup and started gulping down the coffee.

  “Hey, that’s—”

  He wanted to say it was really hot, but she drank it like it was lukewarm. He swore she had chugged the whole cup.

  “Whew!” She put the cup down, and then continued: “When can you start having guests?”

  “Wait. I’ve been selected already?”

  “Yes. I came today to give your house a final look and meet you in person.”

  “I guess I passed then.”

  “That you did. To get back to the question, when can you start having tenants?”

  Ken thought a moment. “Ideally, since this is short notice, I’d like a week to do some final preparations. Cleaning, moving of some personal items, and other miscellaneous tasks.”

  “That seems fair. I have a group coming in ten days. Does that give you enough time?”

  “More than enough, I think.”

  “Good! It’s nice to see the house is furnished. I believe Nanaia said you have a sister, correct?”

  “Yes, but she doesn’t live here.”

  “Married?”

  “I don’t think she is, but I don’t really know.”

  “No, no. I meant you.”

  “Not to my knowledge.”

  “Did Nanaia talk about compensation?”

  He thought back to two months ago. “Come to think of it, I don’t think she did. I guess there is more upkeep than if there was only one person in the house.”

  “Of course. Health care, including dental and vision, are included for you, the landlord. And remuneration is one-thousand dollars per month.”

  “That seems low, but we can probably make do with it.”

  “Per guest.”

  “Per . . . guest? How many people are going to be staying here?”

  “Well, you have four rooms, so at least four. Plus, one of the guests I’m thinking of doesn’t take up much room.”

  Ken’s attention was caught on the ‘doesn’t take up much room.’ Was the tenant the size of a pixie?

  Amelta continued. “That’s a total of five I have in mind for this place.”

  “Five tenants!? I could handle one or two, but five is over doing it.”

  “If you can handle two, what’s a few more?”

  Ken’s mouth went agape. A few more? They weren’t pets; they were people . . . or aliens . . . or alien people. Something like that.

  “Good! Then it’s decided,” she said.

  Ken hadn’t given her a response, so she must have assumed it was all right. Most people would think that if someone was staring at you with their mouth hanging wide open, they must have some reservations about what you were asking them.

  Except for the person sitting in front of him. Ken shrugged, and then something dawned on him.

  “That’s five grand in all, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. It’s paid out by the commission, funneled from their respective planets. However, there is one thing that I must tell you,” and her face took on a serious look. “This is a cultural exchange. Each of the tenants has their own job or such role while on Earth. Your goal is to teach them cultural aspects of Earth.”

  “Like what?”

  “That’s up to you to decide. But you have to take an active part in their education. It’s not as simple as just offering them a place to eat and sleep.”

  “Do they understand English? I know a little bit of Entine Standard from a DVD I got as a door prize, but that’s about it.”

  “Not to worry. One of the prerequisites for taking part in this program is at least a basic mastery of the language of the country they will stay in.”

  “So, I’m part teacher, part dorm father?”

  “Precisely!”

  “I think I get the picture. Well, no choice but to do my best.”

  “Good! You know, this house will be perfect for the tenants I have in mind. They wanted some place quiet. Not quite the city, not quite the country, but somewhere in the middle.”

  “The suburbs?”

  “Yes.”

  “I guess we’ll see how this goes.”

  Ken thought this was going much smoother than anticipated. The commission or group must have put a lot of thought into it. On the other hand, Earth was just a new member of the Entine Republic; there was probably a template for this kind of exchange floating somewhere in the headquarters of a galactic public relations office.

  “I do have a question about how things should go if, and I’m just preparing here, something doesn’t turn out right?”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “What if a tenant doesn’t take well to the planet, or there are problems and I would no longer want them in my house? I know it’s a blunt question.”

  Amelta nodded, understanding. “There are times when participants aren’t up to the challenge. There are clauses in the contract that state if there are any problems, the handler – me – will investigate it, and decide whether or not if the tenant should be removed from the current lodging. A tenant can also leave of their own free will.”

  Ken stopped in mid-drink. “Is there a contract?”

  Her face went blank. “I forgot to give it to you!”

  She went into her briefcase and pulled out the contract.

  “If you hadn’t reminded me, I would
have walked out of here without you signing it!”

  Ken resisted the urge to give her pitiful look. She put two contracts in front of him, and both had been marked with removable stickers on the side. He opened each page and quickly read through for anything out of the ordinary. Finding none, he signed each of the pages that were marked.

  “I’ll take this one, and the other is yours to keep.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No. Thank you. I think the participants are going to enjoy it on Earth.”

  “Last question: how long are they going to be staying here?”

  “It’s up to the tenant if they want to renew their own contracts. They will do that yearly, if you have no issues with the tenant continuing to stay. The program is for three years, but in extenuating circumstances can be extended.”

  “I see.”

  She put her documents into her briefcase, stood up, and extended her hand. Ken rose and shook it.

  “I’ll see you in ten days, Mister Goldwrite. If any of the tenants show up a little before I do, just sit tight.”

  “They’re not all going to be arriving with you?”

  “Just between you and me, galactic transport isn’t as reliable as you might think it is. It’s kind of like airlines on this planet. Weather and other things can delay their arrival.”

  “Here’s hoping they’re quiet, and everything will be stress free.”

  “I do have one last question for you, though.”

  “Yes?”

  “You didn’t seem particularly concerned with my appearance, and didn’t even make any comments about knowing your language. I mean, I can’t be mistaken as being from this planet.”

  Ken shrugged. “Was I supposed to?”

  Amelta shook her head, and gave a relieved smile. “I suppose not. Other landlords have when I showed up, and it’s . . . refreshing to meet someone who didn’t.”

  Chapter Two

  Or, A (Not So) Healthy Dose of Tenants!

  Ken wasn’t in a hurry. He had plenty of time, and there wasn’t much to clean or move. Most of the furniture was empty of anything important, and had been for years. There were a few books on miscellaneous shelves and a sweater or two in the closets, but everything could be done in a day, two at the most.

  It was three days later when the money was transferred to his bank account. He spent two days replacing towels, sheets, pillows and other things, putting the old ones into large plastic tubs in the downstairs storage room.

  A day before they were to arrive, Ken bought enough food for a cookout for eight, in case the woman who gave him the application and Amelta showed up.

  “Hopefully they’re not vegetarians.”

  He packed what he could in the refrigerator and freezer, and chuckled. It was the first time in years he’d seen it resemble ‘full.’

  A few days later, Ken was in the driveway sweeping away the dust and leaves from the previous day’s wind when the first tenant showed up.

  He heard a car stop farther down the street. He couldn’t see it, but he heard someone get out of the car, said something, and closed the door. He heard rubber grinding on pavement; the car must have made a U-turn, and the sound of the vehicle vanished down the road.

  Ken noticed a woman walking up the street, carrying a large duffle bag – something like the military on Earth would use – and holding a small piece of paper. She was looking around as she walked, and stopped in front of Ken’s mailbox. She looked at the mailbox, then at the paper, then back at the mailbox. She nodded as if confirming something, then turned toward Ken’s house.

  “Yes?” Ken asked from down the driveway.

  She reacted as if she hadn’t seen him in the first place. She walked up the driveway to meet him.

  “This is 7-3 Mary Drive, correct?”

  “That it is.”

  She looked completely human. Nothing about her outward appearance set off any bells except for the odd style of dress and the—

  —sheathed . . . sword?

  She had black hair to her shoulders. It looked like she was wearing some sort of uniform. It was dark blue, with a crimson trim on her slacks going down to her ankles.

  “Then you’re Kenaeth Goldwrite?”

  “That I am, but everyone calls me Ken. Are you one of my tenants?”

  She tipped her head toward him. When she looked directly at him again, he noticed she had striking eyes: the left was jade green and the right was ice blue.

  “My name is Cassandra Pyredom. Thank you for your hospitality.”

  Ken felt a little embarrassed, being thanked so formally. “Would you like me to help you with your bag?”

  “No. I can handle it.”

  “I guess the others are due any time—”

  Two pure white feathers drifted down right in front of them. One even lightly bumped Ken on the nose before it continued to the ground. Ken and Cassandra looked up. A woman, with blonde hair and decked out in a white and green dress was about fifty feet off the ground and descending, flapping her—

  —wings!?

  “Holy . . . moly . . .” was all Ken could say.

  The woman descended on the edge of the driveway, and looked toward Ken and Cassandra.

  She walked up to Ken and bowed. “Kenaeth Goldwrite?”

  “Y . . . yes . . .” Ken muttered, trying very hard not to be distracted by her large ‘endowments.’

  Boing.

  “I am Angelica Elegance. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” She turned to Cassandra. “Your wife, perhaps?”

  “No!” Ken and Cassandra shouted at the same time.

  “Oh my,” he reacted, putting her hand to her mouth in embarrassment.

  “Um, do you have any bags?”

  “Mine arrived on an earlier flight. Amelta said she would deliver them when she came here today.”

  “Okay. I guess the others are due any time—”

  They heard a low volume, panicked voice that sounded something like “Watch out! I can’t stop!”

  Something fast hit Ken on the side of the head. It didn’t hurt, but the surprise of it all knocked him off balance, and he fell to the ground.

  “I’m sorry!” the voice said.

  Ken sat up and looked up at his first two guests, then, not finding a third, looked around, and then noticed the woman standing near his left foot.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, fluttering her own pair of gossamer wings. “I’m really sorry. I was just flying too fast and couldn’t stop myself with my bag.”

  “Not a problem. Just surprised me a—Geez, you’re tiny!” Ken shouted.

  She certainly was tiny, only being about a foot tall, and dressed in a bodysuit, with four translucent wings sprouting from her back.

  Ken thought back when Amelta had told him that one didn’t take up much room.

  She was most certainly pixie-sized.

  She had a small suitcase next to her. Her hair was a little longer than Cassandra’s, and the tips seemed to be white.

  She’d been staring up at him with a worried look on her face until he said the word ‘tiny,’ and she frowned.

  “Aww. I’m sorry.” Ken stood up, and as he did, she fluttered up with him.

  “Um,” she began, “could you stick out your hand?”

  “Like this?”

  “Palm side up.”

  Ken did so and she landed on his palm. She was very light, almost half the weight of an apple.

  “I’m Katrina Faerblood. Thank you for letting me stay here.”

  “My, aren’t you a cute one?”

  Katrina shyly smiled, and then turned to the other two guests. “Who are they?”

  Ken pointed to Cassandra and said “That’s Cassandra, and the one with the wings is Angelica.”

  “Hello!” Katrina said in a cheerful voice.

  “Nice to meet you,” Angelica said. And then the dam broke. She scooped Katrina up in both hands. “You’re absolutely ado
rable!”

  “Th-Thank you . . .” Katrina replied, trying to maintain her composure. “It’s getting . . . a little hard . . . to . . . breathe . . .”

  Angelica let her go, and Katrina took a deep breath.

  “A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Cassandra nodded to the newcomer.

  Katrina went down, picked up her suitcase, and then went back up to Ken’s hand.

  Ken looked around. “I guess the others are due any time—”

  All four of them turned when they heard a vehicle pull up in the driveway. It was a black, stretch limo.

  “Wow,” they all breathed in unison.

  A sharply dressed chauffer exited the driver’s seat, and opened up the rear door on the driver’s side.

  “If you would, miss.”

  A woman, decked out in what Ken could only think was an expensive dress, stepped out. She looked about with a haughty turn of her head.

  “Not entirely what I expected, but I suppose it will do.”

  As she ran her hands through her long brown hair, Ken lifted an eyebrow at her, hoping that there was some mistake and someone who would say something like that right off the bat would not be staying at his house.

  The girl’s gaze finally came to rest on Ken and his entourage. She walked forward, and stopped in front of them.

  “Kenaeth Goldwrite?”

  “Uh . . . yes. And you are?”

  “Natalia Greentyme. I’ll be staying here, starting today.”

  The chauffer had finished unloading the eighth suitcase from the limo’s trunk, and put them close to the house.

  Once he had put the last one down, Natalia glanced back at him and said, “You can leave now.”

  “Understood, miss.”

  He got back into the limo, backed out of the driveway, and disappeared down the road.

  “Well then,” Natalia continued, “could you show me to my room?”

  Ken wanted to ask her why she didn’t even want to know the names of the other tenants, but mentally shrugged. “That might be a good idea for everyone.”

  A familiar minivan pulled into the driveway. Ken could see Amelta through the windshield, and someone in the passenger’s seat.

  She got out of the van. “Good! Everyone is here!”

  The passenger’s side door opened, and a petite woman stepped out. She had short black hair, and oddly enough, dressed in blue jeans and a T-shirt.

  “Let’s see. It should be Cassandra Pyredom, Angelica Elegance, Katrinia Faerblood, Natalia Greentyme, and the last one is Alisa Maestral.”

  Alisa didn’t even blink.

  “Shall we all go inside?” Amelta said.