The Odd Visitor

--Little Explanation Here-

*******You'll notice I did a little reference to Doctor Who here. I had my character, Breck Haines, meet up with him in a yet-to-be-finished adventure (Dang muse went on a loooong holiday! Didn't even send me any postcards neither.) so she's not exactly a newcomer to any approaching aliens. This isn't a cross-over, just some other experience Breck has had in another time.*******

Ok….

Um…..

Well, let's start off by explaining I don't really know HOW to start this darn thing off! I'm a rancher, for pete's sake, not a novelist!!!

I know, I know. Start at the beginning, right? With an introduction.

So ok.

Hello, my name is Breck Haines and I'm just a simple rancher trying to make it on my own out here in the Oklahoma foothills. I didn't want anything other than that but you know how it goes. You lay plans as best you can then something comes along that throws them first in the heap, then in the sewage and then finally in the trash!!!

Like this mess. I'm no stranger to strange adventures, I admit. Not after traveling with the Doctor for a year or so. But when I got back home I just wanted things to get back to the same ol' routine as before, back to good ol' normality with nothing stranger than mebbe a two-headed calf born once in a while or something along those lines.

Yep, that was my plan all right. But then this happened, this….ah..event? I don't think it could described as an adventure, although it probably was one for Jojo.

Who's Jojo now, you ask? Never mind, I'll get to him in a bit.

Now I don't even know why I'm writing this. Probably just to get it all straightened out in my mind and remind myself that yep, it happened. You haven't quite gone nuts just yet. One of these days you will, just not now. This is just a symptom.

But if any of you owlhoots think you're going to use this stuff against me in some way, forget it. I'll deny it. This is a work of F.I.C.T.I.O.N!!! Get it? I'll just say it never happened, how could it happen and you guys will be the ones who look the fool.

I'm not quite sure yet if it did happen myself. Could be the result of a really off batch of apple cider. Or a bad stew. Not that I make bad stew! But you can never tell with covered dishes at some community get-togethers. I've had me some chili once that….

No. No, I'm getting off the subject here. Let's stay focused.

One major event at a time!

Ok, like I said before, I'm a rancher, female, in my fifties (yeah, I'm old. Sue me.) and just gaining that bit of a bulge around the middle that no matter what I do, just seems to lie there unchanged. I don't smoke, or go off on drinking binges. The only medication I take is Advil now and again. There is no insanity to be found anywhere in my family. So I'm not off my head with this, is this clear?

Like I said, I've seen some strange things traveling around with the Doctor but hey, you saunter about the galaxies and you expect to see some strange stuff! Aliens, weird planets, foods that you're not sure whether to eat, wear or hold a political conversation with. That's the norm. That's what you'll see. You know that and you're not caught off guard that everything else in the cosmos doesn't resemble your home town in any ways.

But you DON'T expect weird things on your own homestead! On YOUR property! In YOUR chicken house!

I was just getting ready for bed that night, every critter that I had on my ranch had been fed, watered, bedded down, talked to, patted and medicated if need be. So I figured it was my turn to relax. I had just gotten out of a nice hot bath, gotten on my pajamas and was just pulling the covers back when I heard the chickens just a-squawking and carrying on like it was Doomsday! They don't do that unless something was seriously wrong or something was breaking in so I threw on my bathrobe, boots, grabbed my shotgun and hared on out there.

Oh yeah, grabbed my flashlight too off the back porch. It gets dark out there after sunset.

I have no street lights in my corner of the hills. Pitch black. Yeah, I like it that way. Of course the dogs had to join in the ruckus as well. Grits, my Catahoula Leopard Dog which was as good as hunter as he was a cattle dog, Rebel, the combination of just about every hound within 20 miles, and Skeeter, my little terrier which was sheer murder on any rat, woodchuck or possum that dared to show its face on his turf had to add their voices to the din and jumped up and around me in an effort to get me to join in the fun. I hollered the usual bad names at them and they laughed themselves off to harass whatever critter they could get a trail on, now that they were all wide awake and such.

I flung open the chicken house door and shone the light about. The hens were all cackling their fool heads off and flapping and running around like…well…like chickens with their heads cut off. I couldn't make out what the heck had started them off so I shoved them aside and out into the pen with the barrel of my shotgun. Most likely it was just a blasted weasel. If I could get a clear shot that would be the end of it, peace would return and I could get back to bed, with just a few feathers stuck to my robe.

I've had trouble with coons and foxes before with my chickens and I had built a nice sturdy pen for them. But those weasels are so small and skinny they could squeeze through just about any lil hole they could discover. I kicked the last fat hen out then scanned the area, rubbing and blowing the darn feathers and dust out of my eyes and nose.

Ever been in a stirred up chicken house? It's a mess, no matter how much you try to keep it clean! Feathers, down, dust and of course, dried chicken manure. It makes a pretty dense noxious cloud when chickens had been flapping and clawing and all. As soon as I kicked out the last hen I started coughing and needing a drink to wash it all out of my throat. Ugh. The light barely made any headway through the gloom. Just looked like a lighted up dust cloud.

So at first I couldn't see anything, but then I heard a very small 'achoo!' in the far corner. I swung my light and gun around, looking for my target. The dust was settling just a bit. Ah ha! So there it was! Huddled up and shivering, a small pile of black and grey striped fur.

Wait a minute. Black….and…..grey….that combination doesn't set well in the mind of a country person. Usually the danger sign is black and white but like I said, hen houses get dirty!

Dang. It's a blasted skunk! Man, if I shot that thing now, ain't no way I'd get the smell out from neither the house or me! Probably would make the eggs taste funny for the next four months too!

Cripes, why do I have this luck?

I slowly back away a bit and tried to calm it down. "Hey now, hey now. Easy now. I ain't gonna hurt you, nobody's gonna hurt you. Just….get on your way there. Easy now."

Um…the only way out was by me. Smart. Why didn't I put in two doors in the chicken house for an emergency exit?

Because I don't plan chicken houses for skunks, that's why. File that for future use in hen house design.

So now I slowly and carefully go the other way, leaving a clear path for the skunk to leave in. "Go on," I tried to urge it along. "Git! Get back to the woods! You don't belong here! Scat!" I waved the light at it for good measure. "C'mon, I'm givin' you a break here! I could blast your flippin' head off but I'm not! Just get outta here! Now!"

Then it lifted its head to look up at me. I stared at it. What th…? It didn't have the sharp muzzle and nose of a skunk, in fact its muzzle was shorter and rounder. The nose, set almost right between the eyes, was rather small. And the eyes were large, round and full of fright. Well, what I could see of them anyway. It had a thick thatch of black hair on its head with strands hanging down in front of its face. It stared back, then tucked its head back in its folded arms and I could hear muffled sounds sort of like sobs.

Uh…skunks or any other critter I know of, don't cry. Well, they can, I suppose, but not like a person would. This…thing was crying like that, like a person. Like a scared lost kid, in fact.

But a kid in grey and black striped fur? What kind of footsie pjs is that? In the middle of the night and in a hen house to boot. Nope, didn't add up. Only thing I could think of that did was…dang. An alien.

Oh Doctor? I have a pick-up for you. Please get back to me as soon as you can.

I squatted down, keeping my light on it and trying to think what this thing was. I had seen some aliens in my time but not one exactly like this. And anyway, what the hell was an alien doing in my hen house scaring the coop out of my chickens??

Perhaps I can talk to it, find out what it wants, send it on its way, then get back to the house and a nice peaceful night's sleep. I set my shotgun down so to show it I didn't mean it any harm, then moved the light to one side. Why blind the poor thing?

" Ah….hello….you seem to be in…some sort of..trouble? Can I help you with anything?"

Its head came up again and once more we stared at each other. And stared. I'm no good judge of time but it could have been around 3 minutes or so. This wasn't getting anything done so I tried a smile. "Hey, it's ok. I'm not going to hurt you. My name's Breck. What's yours?"

It took a few moments for it to decide to reply, but I couldn't quite catch the murmured answer. I leaned forward. "I'm sorry, your name is..?"

This time it was louder. Barely. "Jojo."

"Jojo". I straightened up and smiled at him. At least I thought it as 'him'. 'Jojo' is more of a name for a boy. Right? "I'm pleased to meet you, Jojo." Nice and polite, while squatting in a cloud of chicken poo.

No answer. He just kept staring at me from his huddled position. I could see his shoulders were still shaking a bit from his low sobs. Dark tracks ran from his eyes down the sides of his face from his tears. I could feel sympathy welling up inside me. Oh, the poor little thing. Sort of made me long to go over, gather him up and hug him. But at this point I thought that would really scare the heck out of him. How would you like it if some large alien came over, snatched you up and held you close? You wouldn't, right? So, talk, just talk.

"Ah….so..where're you from, Jojo? How did you get here? And why are you in my chicken house?" I asked him. Reasonable questions, I thought.

No answer at first, then I saw his lick his lips, swallow and was about to talk again when one of those blasted hens decided to see just what was keeping her from her own deservedly night's rest and squeezed in. Jojo's eyes got even wider and he scrunched his body up in an even smaller ball. "No! Please!"

"You get your fat feathered fanny outta here!" I shoved the hen back into the pen and this time flipped the catch. There. No more paltry poultry interruptions. Poor Jojo must have been pecked a few times by the silly biddies. I could see it would hurt and scare the living daylights out of him but then, he did scare them too. Tit for tat.

I tried to calm him down again. "Hey, it's ok. It's ok. She's gone. She's not going to hurt you. It's all right." He didn't respond so I tried a small joke. "Hey, if she really hurt you bad, I can make sure she's on the dinner menu tomorrow!"

No answer or response of any kind. Oh well, not only am I not a novelist, but I'm also not a stand up comic. I'm a rancher, remember? Plain simple country girl.

A plain, simple country girl squatting in her hen house at night talking to some alien critter. Or trying anyway.

My legs were falling asleep. I'm getting too old to hunker down like this!!!

"Look, Jojo. My house ain't exactly the Ritz or even Area 51 but it's a danged sight more comfortable than this coop. And cleaner too," I added when Jojo jerked his head in another sneeze. "How about we go over there, get cleaned up, have some coffee or whatever, and let these darned chickens have their roost back? Then we can get you back to…whever you're supposed to be."

He slowly looked over at me again and I realized just how small he was. Even curled up like that I could see he wouldn't be any taller than a three-year-old toddler. Not that it wasn't bad, smaller aliens are a bit easier to deal with that the big hulking things. Even though some smaller aliens can be quite nasty in their own right. Still, Jojo didn't look like he could be threatening. An alien scared of chickens can't be much of an invasion force.

("General! The aliens are forming an attack fleet!" "Quick, Captain! Ready the chicken missiles! That'll fix 'em!)

He started to rise up but as soon I got to my feet he flattened himself back against the wooden boards. Cripes, too much too fast, I thought. Looming over him like that. I squatted down again, gritting my teeth. I hate that pins-and-needles feeling!!!

"Hey, it's ok. I told ya I'm not going to hurt you. Take it easy, Jojo. And take pity on me! I'm getting stiff sittin' like this!"

He swallowed again, and then uttered a third sneeze. I felt one tickling my nose as well. "Yeah, let's get outta here before we both suffocate. Bleh!" I rose to my feet again slowly so this time it didn't startle him and went out first after retrieving my shotgun, then backed off to wait for Jojo to make his appearance. I thought it best to think of a wild colt at this point. Not too close and not too far. When he was far enough away that I wouldn't scare him again, I went back inside to open the side pen hatch so the hens could get back to what they were doing. Which was, of course, sleeping.

Jojo stood there, watching, silent. I noted that my evaluation of his height was pretty accurate; he wasn't even three feet tall. No wonder the hens could get the best of him. I couldn't see him winning a fight with a sparrow.

I led the way with my flashlight, warning him of the rocks that we passed and the pitfalls to avoid. I try to keep the lawn around my house neat and cut but in this country you have these huge tracks of granite poking up here and there like some sort of dinosaur backbone. Too much bother to dig them up so one just tolerates them. And then there's those danged armadillos! The nature books say they 'dig for insects' but anybody who has ever had one in their yard will tell you, they don't 'dig', they excavate!!! You could almost fill one of their holes with water and stock it with catfish, they dig so much! So I didn't want Jojo to fall foul of one of those pits. He'd disappear and I'd be spending the rest of my days wondering whatever happened to that li'l alien I met one night.

I got better things to do with my time.

And wouldn't you know it, at this point the danged dogs showed up! Oh blast it! They looked on any small furry critter in the yard other than livestock as their rightful prey and here I was escorting a small furry alien across the yard! I could just see myself trying to explain the murder of their citizen by my mutts to some alien courtroom. Had to think fast. I caught sight of the quarter of venison I had hung up to age by the back porch door, lunged for it and threw it at the approaching pack. "Here! Here! Take this, you mangy hyenas!!!" That made them decide on a change of menu then and there. Rebel grabbed the haunch and took off, the other two giving chase and demanding their fair share in full voice.

Whew! Well, I can always get another deer. I turned to see where Jojo had gone and spied him cowering by the back porch. First chickens and now this. He's going to need some serious therapy when he gets back to whatever world he was from. "It's ok, they're gone." I tried to reassure him. "That'll keep 'em busy for the rest of the night."

So anyway, I got up on the back porch and turned on the back light. Jojo walked up from his hiding place and I saw he was having a bit of trouble on the wooden steps but I wasn't sure if he wanted help or not. When in doubt, don't. But hmm, his short legs did have a time and he ended up pulling himself up by the banister. His arms were quite long, probably to compensate for the shorter limbs? I have no clue.

I could see him better in the light. Along with his long arms, his body was also on the long side, shaped sort of like a skinny pear, more weight on the bottom. He had almost no shoulders to speak of and…no sign of external ears. But he did hear when I spoke to him (if the darn chicken squawking didn't make him deaf by now) so I gathered his ears could be like the chickens'. They have no external signs of them either, just the lil feathered flaps on each side of their heads. Guess he had furry flaps under his hair.

I held open the door but before he went inside he stood there a moment and gave himself a vigorous shake. Dust and chicken feathers floated away in a cloud and his fur stood out for a second or two before it settled back down. Handy way to clean and I was rather glad he did that. It reminded me I should at least try to get a bit cleaner myself. Leave the blasted feathers and stuff outside! I brushed myself off, shook my bathrobe a bit, scrapped my boots then we both went in.

Jojo stood there looking at me as if he wasn't quite sure what to do or what was going to happen next. Oh well, I thought to myself. Whatever he is, he's a guest. Treat him like one. I waved him to the kitchen table and chairs. "Have a seat. I'll whip something up to drink or even to eat if you're hungry." He didn't answer but chose the closest seat to clamber up on. Then he just sat there, silent, staring at the floor. Heh, even his feet and hands were furred! For an alien, he was downright cute! Mebbe I could breed them and sell them as pets…..

I'm kidding, don't worry! I think there's some law around somewhere prohibiting selling sentient beings in pet shops. Beside I had no idea if housebreaking them would be a major issue.

"What sort of drink would you like? I have coffee, tea, somewhere I got hot cocoa mix." I rather hoped he wouldn't choose the cocoa. I still wasn't sure where I had put the stuff and whether or not the mice hadn't found their way in it.

His voice was so low and soft I could hardly make it out. "Some..water…please?"

"Certainly," I told him cheerfully. Yeah,good idea. Darn chicken dust needed to be washed down. "Like some ice with it?"

"Just…water. Thank you."

I got him a glassful and slowly took it to the table. Slow and easy. I decided that I was going to make myself a small cup of coffee. My own nerves needed a bit of soothing. Clucking hens in one's ears does that to a person. While I was filling the teapot up my eyes fell on the cookie jar and my mind went back to the child-like sound of sobbing he was doing before and thought perhaps this –is- just a child. And what child passes up a chance for…cookies?

I put a few on a plate, set the teapot on the stove and returned, slowly!, to the table. "Hungry?" I asked as I set the plate down in front of him. I took the seat at the other end and before I was totally settled he had taken a cookie and had given it a sizeable bite. I smiled to myself.

"So, Jojo. Where are you from?"

His reply was mumbled through a mouthful of cookie. I waited until he swallowed, his voice was low enough as it was. "Wh..Whoville." He took another cookie from the plate and bit into it.

Whoville. That was a new one on me. "Ok, and where's that at?" I asked him.

He started to speak, then stopped in mid-breath. His face took on a confused look, as if he had no idea how to answer the question. Then his eyes filled up with tears and he looked away.

"Hey, it's ok. No rush. No problem," I tried to soothe him. He looked back at me with the most lost expression I had ever seen. Even the cutest basset hound puppy had nothing on those eyes.

"I….I don't know….." he said, his lower lip starting to tremble. "I just…don't..know! I..I was there and…then suddenly…I was……was…."

Oh no, he's going to start crying again. "Hey, it's ok, it's ok," I told him. "Look, it's late and sometimes it's hard to think straight when you're tired. What say we just get some sleep and tackle this problem in the morning? We'll figure it out, don't worry. Ok?"

He looked at me, looked down and sighed. He nibbled at the cookie again. At least the tears had remained unfallen. "Yeah. S..sure."

"Good! Let's see….." I went into the living room and was alerted by the teapot squealing on the stove. Too late for coffee now so I had to go back, turn the darn thing off, then go back to the living room.

I didn't have much by way of fancy furniture but what I did have was pretty darn comfortable. But I only had one bedroom. I took a blanket and the largest fluffiest pillow I could find and was about to place them on the couch when I remembered Jojo wasn't all that big. The lazy-boy rocker might be more comfy for him. I leaned it in the back position, fluffed up the pillow on it and shook out the blanket. "This work for you?" I asked him as he was standing in the doorway watching. He nodded, then his hand went up to gingerly rub his head. Drat, I had forgotten about the chicken attack!

"Are you hurt? They peck you?" I asked gently. He had winced at one point and nodded. "Here, let me see." I knelt down and he came over with less hesitation now. I ran my fingers through his hair (Yep, I was right, no ears but small flaps where they should be. Purely logical. But the females of this race, whatever it is, can't wear any earrings! The poor girls!) He flinched at some places but as far as I could tell there wasn't any blood, just a bit of bruising. Hard-headed perhaps. At least they missed the eyes! "Well, no serious damage that I can see," I concluded. "Anywhere else?" he shook his head.

"That's good, here, let me give you a hand." I held out my hands to him and after a moment's hesitation he allowed me to pick him up and set him on the chair. He weighed only about twice my largest hen and his fur, while long and rather shaggy-looking, was quite soft and thick. I tucked the blanket in around him as he got settled in. "There ya go. Comfy?"

"Yes."

If he keeps up speaking that soft I'm going to have to get me a hearing aid.

"That's good. Now, if you need anything, you let me know, ok? I'm just at the other side of the hallway here. Anything at all. Good night."

Jojo mumbled a 'g'night' and then added "Uh…Breck?"

I paused and looked back at him from my bedroom doorway. "Hm?"

"Th..thanks."

Heh, cute and polite. Why weren't there more aliens like that out there?