The Man From Mars - Episode Thirty Eight

   "Do you speak English?" I asked, a little apprehensively. "Can I please get a glass of water?"
   Either she did not understand what I was saying, or she couldn't hear me because of my throat being so sore.
   Maybe I was speaking too quietly for her o understand me and too hoarsely to be heard?
   But she had to know I was asking her something. She was looking straight at me and surely she could see that my lips were moving.
   That is when I got worriedly excited. I had finally fully awaken enough to realize, where are my clothes? Where was Tiny? And where was the amulet?
   I tried to sit up in the bed so I could look around the room better, but that is when the woman pointed the gun at my head. With all the resolve of an expert marksman in her eyes.
   Every time I tried to move, to sit up, she got more determined with the gun. First she pointed it at my head. I moved again, she held it with two hands. I tried moving a third time, she closed her left eye and spied down the little site on the barrel of the gun.

   I didn't move a fourth time because, I felt that her only other option left was to, pull the trigger.
   Then I heard the strangest pounding sound on the door. It was, knock - knock knock knock - knock.
   Someone, on the other side of the door, was using the old "Shave and a Haircut" jingle to single that they were at the door.
   Of course, my captive, still aiming the gun in my general direction as she got up to respond to the person hitting the door, went knock - knock. "Two Bits."
   I can't believe these people. Their secret knock on the door is the "Shave and a Haircut" jingle and then they answer each other with "Two Bits?"
   Who were these people? What time period did they come out of. Straight out of Eighteen-Ninety-Nine?
   My question was soon answered, as my captive, first moved to the left side of the entryway and waited for a moment. I found out later, she did this in case someone put a bullet through the door. Then she reached with a pencil, which I didn't know she had, covering the peep whole where tenants usually look through to see who is on the other side. Again, I found out later, that is when a killer will shoot you in the head. As the peep whole darkens when you look through it because you block out the light coming from inside the room.
   With no guns a blazing, the woman puts her arm down to her side. The one holding the gun and opens the door with the other.
   I was so happy to see a friendly face, that I quickly got up and sat on the edge of the bed.
   With no clothes on.
   With no blankets covering me up.
   Completely naked.
   But I was still excited enough to yell, "Tiny!"
   For my efforts and excitement, I got a face full, of a rolled up bundle of clean clothes, which I was wearing before. The woman started laughing when the clothes fell away from my face. I must have had the funniest look on my mug for her to laugh so hard.
   I didn't have that "woe is me" look, because of having my feelings hurt by Tiny, for throwing my clothes into my face. It was the "woe is me" hurt look, of having the bundle of clothes wrapped around my shoes and having my nose bloodied.
   That is when the woman spoke English for the first time.
   "He is a funny little man, isn't he Tiny?"
   I am six foot. A little above the average height of most men. But like I said before, Tiny is a huge person. And now, noticing for the first time, this woman was as tall as he was. Maybe not as broad shouldered as him, but I imagine she would whip me in a arm wrestling match if it came down to it.
   Still naked and having my pride being hurt by Tiny. With a bruised and bloodied nose to go along with it. I spout out loudly to the woman, "You can speak English? Why couldn't you get me a glass of water?"
   "I am not your waitress or your maid." She tells me. "My only job is to protect you from hurting yourself, or by getting hurt from someone else."
   "Well, you didn't do a very good job at it. Tiny here nearly broke my nose!"
   "Wow," she exclaimed in disbelief. "He is a whinny little....
   "Don't say it." Interrupts Tiny. "You know I don't like that kind of language."
   With both of them staring at me, and with me not having enough sense to put my clothes on, the woman who held a gun at my head just minutes before, breaks the silence by saying, "So, this is the guy who is going to save the human race?"
   She pauses for a moment, then adds, "Huh? It's hard to believe, isn't it?"

To Be Continued.....

Next Week.

This is,

Always Loving A Good

Femme Fatale

In Any Story,

Jim Hauenstein,

And,

“I’ve never considered myself a femme fatale as I’ve never seduced anyone and ruined their lives. At least as far as I know.”
- Scarlett Johansson -

That is my story and I am sticking to it!

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