Only Alien on the Planet Read Online Free PDF

foreboding. He pulled his coat off the back of his chair. “Come on,” he said. “Get your stuff together.”
    “Just where are we going?” I asked, having this sinking feeling I knew.
    “Smitty's,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
    “Oh. Uh-huh,” I said.
    “I'm serious. He's more technical than I am. He can explain this to you. I can't. Come on, Ginny. I'm not kidding.”
    So what was I going to do? Short of throwing myself on the floor, I mean. Whatever else I may be, I do have my dignity. Caulder made me pack everything up, then he dragged me out the door and down the sidewalk, and there we were, standing on the Tibbses' front porch. My stomach was doing horrible loops.
    “Hi, Mrs. Tibbs,” Caulder said when the door finally opened. Smitty's mother was a youngish looking lady, very consciously dressed. “We've got a couple of math problems we can't quite nail down,” Caulder explained, smiling. “We thought maybe Smitty could give us a hand.”
    She arched her eyebrows; evidently, this kind of thing didn't happen very often.
    “We won't take too much of his time,” Caulder assured her.
    She looked doubtful. Actually, she looked at me, and then she looked doubtful. She pushed open the storm door. “Well,” she said. “Come in.”
    We followed her into the living room, where there was this powder blue carpet and a pale sofa with brocade upholstery. It was—I don't know—perfect in there, the kind of place you'd expect to find plastic runners on the floor. Like an ambassador's office or something.
    She extended one hand, meaning we were supposed to sit down, which I did—but only on the very edge of the sofa cushion. I couldn't have vouched for the condition of the seat of my jeans, and I was terrified of leaving grimy smudges on that furniture.
    “John,” she said. There was a man sitting over in the corner behind a newspaper, half hidden by an open grand piano. “The children have come to see Smitty.” She smiled at us and sat down across the room. “How is your mother, Caulder?” she asked. “I haven't seen her for a while.”
    “She's fine,” Caulder said. “She's always got something going.”
    “Well…” Mrs. Tibbs said, and looked down at her watch and frowned. “John,” she said again. The newspaper didn't even rustle. Mrs. Tibbs sighed. “I have a meeting, and I'm running a little late…” she said to us.
    “We're fine,” Caulder said, not giving an inch. “We just need to see Smitty for a minute.”
    She was clearly undecided as to what she should do with us. The newspaper shifted, came halfway down. “John,” she said. “Caulder's here.” It was the big man from the driveway. He gave us a not unfriendly glance and a nod. “They want to see Smitty,” she went on.
    “He's upstairs,” Mr. Tibbs said.
    “I know he's upstairs,” she said. “They want to ask him about some—what was it, Caulder?”
    “Math, Mrs. Tibbs.” Caulder was being very polite.
    “Math,” she repeated, looking at her husband.
    He looked at her blankly. It was like she was trying to get him to say something, but he didn't have the faintest idea what she wanted.
    She gave her husband a long look and then turned back to us. “I'm not sure what you think he can do,” she said. “Of course I'll call him down for you—but Caulder—”
    “We just have a few questions, Mrs. Tibbs. You know you don't have to worry about me.” Caulder patted my trig book and smiled at her again.
    “Well,” she said. “I'd love to stay and help you myself, but I do have my meeting…” She stood up. “Just don't upset him,” she said. And then quickly, “Of course, Caulder, I know younever would. Why don't you two go on into the dining room where you can work, and I'll go up and get Smitty. Then I'll have to go—”
    “We'll be fine, thank you,” Caulder said. He got up and so I got up. We followed Mrs. Tibbs out of the room and went in through a door she opened for