Alien Upstairs Read Free

a cushion in the center of the room, his red caftan billowing around him. “We're all here. At least all of us except Mrs. Ritter. I'm sorry to say that she declined my invitation."
    "Believe me, it's no loss,” Kathy said. “Mrs. Ritter heartily dislikes all of us."
    "She seemed quite an imposing old lady, I must say.” Raf smiled at Kathy. “Well, well, I certainly have a variety of people here. You, Mrs. Giordano, are a schoolteacher, are you not?” Kathy nodded. “And I met Mr. Litvinov and Miss Jaynes at Warwick and Baum's Department Store. But I don't believe I know what you do, Mr. Belder."
    "I work for the government. Fuel stamp board.” Larry tilted his balding head. “Not a popular position, I'm afraid."
    "And you, Mr. Simms?"
    Martin was silent.
    "Martin is my very good friend,” Larry answered. “Officially, I'd guess you'd say he's a homemaker.” Martin stroked Larry's arm while shooting him another venomous look.
    Sarah sipped her champagne. “What do you do, Mr. Courn?"
    Raf laughed. “Oh, my. At the moment, I suppose I'm at liberty. Or perhaps you could say I'm on a travel allowance, a tourist of sorts.” He chuckled some more. Sarah was feeling hot in her sweater, and wondered if it was the champagne. Raf's apartment did seem very warm. She recalled that heat would rise, but reflected that there was little heat in the building to rise.
    "Yes, a tourist. That's what I'd call myself. Yes, indeed. You see, I'm an alien."
    "What country?” Larry mumbled, his mouth full. “You must have had one hell of a time getting through immigration."
    "Oh, my. It's not exactly a country. I meant another world. I'm an alien from another world, a spaceship sort of alien. You see, some of us have been observing you for some time, and I thought I'd come down and have a little look-see."
    Larry cleared his throat. Sarah was afraid to look at Raf. Gerard rose. “Well,” he said, “I think I'll have seconds."
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    Kathy had come downstairs to have tea with Gerard and Sarah. “Party didn't last long,” Gerard said as he poured.
    "Well,” Kathy said, “it does tend to put a crimp in the evening when you realize your host is a bozo."
    "Still, it was nice of him to say I could borrow his books.” Gerard sat down. “He has quite a collection."
    "Maybe he is an alien.” Sarah sipped her tea.
    "You don't believe that ridiculous story.” Kathy stirred honey into her cup.
    "I don't know. I suppose I don't, really. I asked him why his apartment was so warm when I was helping him clear the table. He just laughed and said, oh, my, heat's no problem with my little doo-hickey.” Sarah fluttered her hands, aping Raf. “I suppose he meant that thing near the sofa, on the end table."
    "Heat rises,” Gerard said. “I wish I knew where his money comes from."
    Kathy shook her head. “He's probably somebody's rich son, and he's slumming. Unlike those of us who have to work, he can afford to let his delusions flower. Maybe his father's in oil or coal, and that doo-hickey is one of those new developments they're supposedly sitting on until things get really bad. I looked at it, though, and it looks like an old stereo component. He probably keeps it there for effect. Have you decided what to tell Epstein, Sarah?"
    "Not yet."
    "Well, let me know when you do. I'm taking the ownership option. Of course, it's useless for getting a loan—I already asked my bank about that, and it's strictly enclave houses only as far as loans go—but I don't want Epstein evicting me."
    "He wouldn't do that."
    "You never know. If he gets a few more rich clowns like Raf willing to rent, and we don't have signed leases, even nice Mr. Epstein might give us all the heave-ho."
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    Three
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    Sarah counted out her silver coins and put them in Mr. Epstein's palm. The old man seemed tired. “Thank you, dear.”