"A most illogical approach, Maggie. And our contribution was negligible."
The young man pulled the heavy coat from his shoulders and threw it to the floor. Dust and soot were caked all over it.
"Your observations are irrelevant, Scott," said Maggie. "We were able to provide sufficient assistance until the official response arrived." She swigged heartily from a plastic sports bottle and slumped onto the recliner by the picture window, ignoring Zack who stood right beside her doing his best to understand their bickering.
"Don't let me stop any further heroics you had planned." Scott wiped his forehead.
"Enough squabbling," said Mestral. "Family should work together." He symbolically rapped his fingertips on the tabletop. He nodded firmly to his companions and they nodded agreement without further dissent.
"If you guys want to move in, I'm happy to split the rent," Zack noted. "Just hang your coats on the pegs provided and don't laugh at my goth friends when they come round." He looked from one face to another, suppressing his frustration behind a fake smile. But no-one replied.
"I must apologize," said Mestral. "We had hoped to approach you in less chaotic circumstances. I anticipated some sort of geological incident. But these things are never precise."
"So you did specifically come for me? That's a new one." Zack knew he was outnumbered if things turned weird - or more weird to be precise - but he was afraid of very little.
"I am sorry you were trapped in your car," said Mestral. He waved his hand to the younger ones and pointed to the small kitchen recess. "Coffee. Black. Hot. Now."
:::
Mestral sat down at the little kitchen table, steam drifting up from the big cup in front of him. He gestured to the stool opposite where a second cup of the steaming brew stood. Zack declined the offer. "You sustained an injury a few years ago?" Mestral began.
"I've been in a few fights, man. I can handle myself." He gripped his left wrist and flexed it as if preparing to punch.
"But you were not always audio impaired?" Mestral was clear, as before.
"What's that?" Zack replied cupping his ear.
Mestral tried to mouth his words more clearly. "I said: you were not born with…" As Zack laughed he could see there had been another humorous intervention. "Ah. This is another poor taste joke. I understand."
Zack laughed to himself. "Whatever, man."
"About three years ago, you were involved in an altercation on a public transit vehicle."
Zack raised his own eyebrow. He remembered a lot of aggravation on a lot of public vehicles. But one in particular could not be forgotten. "Yeah. Yeah, that hurt a lot."
"We work for a charitable foundation." Mestral left his answer hanging then sat back in his chair. Scott sighed visibly in the background.
Zack started wagging his finger. "You're not religious nuts are you? The kind who see every disaster as a chance to make friends."
"No. We see our role as a quiet one, operating in the background."
"What was quiet about attacking me on a bus? I was only listening - listening! - to my music." He moved to the refrigerated cabinet that held only cheese, milk, soda and a short six-pack of beer.
"Our ambassador acted out of character. He had been gravely ill. We would like to make some amend for your discomfort."
Zack pulled a can of Old Milwaukee from the plastic rings. "Ambassador? That's a weird kind of diplomacy." He placed the remaining cans in the small box of the fridge. Before he closed the door, he nodded to Mestral. "You want one? I don't have any other reward to offer."
"No, we don't want to keep you long. We wish to talk of compensation." Mestral opened his hands wide.
"You rescued me to give me money?" Zack tried not to show that he was furious.
"It's more of a package," Mestral mouthed. "A trust in your name. Annual payments for living costs. Monthly instalments if required. And a college fund." He continued "I can personally recommend UC Berkeley. Once repairs have been effected to the campus, of course."
"Just leave. Thanks for not leaving me to die. There's your payback. Things would have been easier for you I'm sure if you'd just left me. If you've got a waiver, I'll sign it. Then go."
Mestral leaned back nodding. "Papers will not be necessary. I do have some advice then. All those jobs you apply for in the Valley? You should turn up for at least one of those interviews. With a tie."
Zack shook his head laughing.
:::
The three visitors muttered as they pulled on their jackets. Zack ignored them and tried to get the remote to show the closed captions on the music channel. He could just about tolerate MTV if he was able to criticize the lyrics.
Maggie leaned over the back of the chair and put her face close to his. "I could attempt to reverse the damage caused by Ambassador Spock," she whispered. She looked intently at Zack's facial shape, then assessed the shoulder and collarbone. He noted the close-knit woolen cap that barely covered her ears. "There is a completely unethical technique I could use to flex the bones of your skull. It is similar to being punched in the face, but you might hear again."
Zack thought she might be threatening him. "I thought I was the deaf one. I want you to go. I need to get my head straight, on my own. Then there are some people I need to check up on. Hopefully they're not dead. If I want to help them I'll do it in my own way. Not with legal papers and quick fix medicine."
Maggie shrugged her shoulders and smiled slightly. "Later," she said. "And buy better coffee if you want people to come round."
Mestral gestured to her. Zack could see that he and Scott were already on the porch. "I wish you long life and prosperity Zack," Mestral said almost to himself.
Zack turned back to the TV set. "Whatever," he replied.