Since JoAnn didn’t give one hoot in hell about this obsolete creature, called Andrew, she just might catch his logical attention and straighten him out. Maybe. He was probably more mature—He was how old? Probably about forty. A little old to be adjusted by someone her age. He probably would not listen to her. She’d see.
She looked back at Andrew. He was sliding his eyes down her body. That was about what every male did. To her, it was irritating. So basic. She wondered if there was any man around anywhere who would consider her mind first. Most of them never noticed that she had a brain. The males almost all thought she was a wingy-ding.
They just wanted to see the silken hairs on her body and find if they were the color of the hair on her head. They were most earnest about that. She had never been snared by such a dummy. That’s why she was still single.
Men were single-minded and rather limited. Uh...not Tom. It had been a surprise that he’d exited as he had. She would give him another look over.
But in the meantime, she had to do something about that lost-in-time person, Andrew Parsons, who didn’t know which side was up.
While JoAnn was thinking that, Andrew was secure in the fact that she was taken with him. How that came about, God only knows, but Andrew smiled at her kindly.
Like the nurses at the hospital, women tended to be lured by Andrew. He understood that was so... and accepted it. He sighed gently, but he was very pleased.
Buddy, who had been Andrew’s dog, had escaped and gone over to Rip’s house. He knew the house because Rip had kept him there nights when Andrew had been hospitalized.
This time, Buddy had abandoned Andrew. It had taken some time for Buddy to realize Andrew used a dog or a person. The human male was extensively spoiled. Buddy had been loyal and endured. But not being fed last night had been the crowning blow. Once too often. He’d gone hungry too many times. Buddy was through caring for the selfish Andrew.
So the dog had gone to Rip’s house.
At Rip’s house, Buddy just went through the dog door and barked once to let them know he was back.
Andrew’s sister, Lu, came into the living room at Rip’s house. She smiled at the dog. “So you’ve come home.”
The dog understood the words which people never know dogs knew, and he smiled. He laughed. His tongue panted and his smile was wide.
Lu asked, “How’d you get away?”
The dog looked at the dog door and back at Lu. He’d given her a reply.
Lu asked, “Are you here to visit?”
The dog went under the table and lay down. That was to indicate he was hiding there, and she wasn’t to tell anyone she’d seen him.
She didn’t catch on at all. She squatted down and asked, “Why are you under there? Are you hiding?”
Buddy came out, sure she understood his plight and that she was on bis side. He smiled at her.
She laughed and said. “I’m glad to see you, too. Come into the kitchen while I finish the dishes. Look at my hands! Who would ever believe I’m a Parsons?”
The dog gave a discreet, low bark as he told her she was perfect.
She asked, “You’re hungry? You can’t be! You’re teasing me. We only feed our dogs in the morning and again in the evening. You’re not to get a lunch, too!”
The dog laughed. She wasn’t too sharp but she was kind.
She said, “Rip will be here for lunch. I just might give you a little taste...if you promise not to blab. Okay?”
The dog had to walk around a little with his head down. But he thought she was hilarious.
Rip came inside the house in a hurry. He ignored the dog and just took Lu against his body as he kissed her. She wiggled against him to get even closer and blushed and kissed him back.
Even though the dog pranced and barked to get in on the greeting, neither person was aware of it. They clutched each other, kissed and—not letting go of each other—they stumbled into the bedroom. And at the last minute, Rip closed the bedroom door.
So Buddy was in the hall. He was closed out He could hear the rustle of clothing, Lu’s soft laughter, and the creek of the bed. Buddy felt sorry for the people. Their mating was so complicated. With dogs, it was easier.
Three
For Andrew Parsons, the days were too long and the nights were even longer. He was bored out of his gourd, but he didn’t know of any other place where he wanted to be.
Actually, he’d had no response from any of those places that he’d contacted as a haven. He’d contacted a good many places while in hospital where he had been recovering from his injuries.
There were some places that had regretted with a brief but polite rejection, but there were those that had never replied. Either way, it had been demeaning.
Andrew wondered if Mrs. Keeper was going to oust him from the Keepers’ place. Would she?
He avoided confronting her.
He did not want to go home.
His father was simply ridiculous. He was such a burden on Andrew’s mother. His father needed his mother by him all the while. Such a leech.
Andrew did not think of himself as a leech. Not at all. Never. He was a jewel of a guest. He realized that. The fact that he was there heightened the caliber of any place.
He had been educated abroad in one of England’s exclusive, private schools. Those who’d been students were brain heads and rather strange. If one did not know of their particular interest, he had been rejected by the students.
Andrew had learned to speak as they did and discarded the TEXAS speech. They laughed at his accent and word choice. His speaking as they did, had made no impression at all.
It had been a long, hard time, but he had learned to be aloof. He knew his value.
So he had been the only student who was interested in the States, he had been terribly homesick, and one elderly, bumbling man taught Andrew in that pioneer field of TEXAS. Unfortunately, everything the old man knew had occurred long ago.
They didn’t know of anything current about the United States. They hadn’t even thought doing so could be important.
However, no one at the Keeper place paid Andrew much mind. Of course, everyone was civil. They greeted Andrew and nodded across a room, but no one ever sat down with him and asked him questions. Nor did they ask his opinion. No one ever asked his point of view on any subject.
Andrew had all this long-ago knowledge of the States stacked up inside himself, and no one was curious enough to ask him a question. How strange is such a careless, rejective world.
Of course, Andrew didn’t approach any other person. He didn’t offer anything at all to anyone. He waited to be approached. He was tolerant of the people who did not know of history or of the makings of the world. He had his own opinions, his own ideas. He could give people another view.
They didn’t ask.
He didn’t offer.
The reason he never started a subject was not that he wasn’t outgoing. He had been. But too often the listener got up, excused himself and...left.—or one just walked on off to start with. Escaped?
Andrew felt that people needed to know basics. They needed to know who and how and why things were as they’d been. Everybody seemed to think current knowledge was enough.
They put it on the internet.
How can people build on things unless they know basics?