Kia-Lieē moved freely around the house during the day while Brad was at work. The previous night had been interesting, introducing her to chili and topping off the night with ice cream, and a personal experience. As the day wore on she found the TV some diversion, and used the shows to sharpen her linguistic abilities a bit. Brad had now instructed her on which shows to watch. She had no social contacts so her day was within the condo with very little interaction outside. Indeed, she had to keep her sunglasses on lest someone see her eyes, which while not being so large that she appeared alien, might draw attention to her in some way and due to her assignment her secrecy had to be maintained.
Still, she was becoming domesticated in some ways. Deep within her DNA was a woman and that woman Brad had awakened felt a need to please him in some way. After the joint he had led her into a world of experiences that had taxed her intellect, and awakened something inside of her that she couldn't quite put her finger on. She remembered the previous night and found the left over chili in the refrigerator. After much effort she got it into a sauce pan and got the range to ignite. Stirring it, without tasting, she warmed it. Then, fetching the ice cream she continued with the dinner.
Brad came home about five thirty. “I made food!” she announced with some pride. As he walked through his living area he noticed his mail sitting on the coffee table.
“You went for the mail?” he asked.
“Of course. I’ve seen you go there, and you keep the keys on that little box on the kitchen wall.”
“You figured that out?”
“Look,” she said, with a stern look, “my intellect far surpasses yours. In fact, there is not a way to even measure it in your time. There is nothing in your culture that I can’t understand, or find a solution for. That’s what I do. That’s why I’m here. Opening a primitive box, and retrieving some letters is child’s play for me. I could have probably gotten into that box without your silly, primitive key.”
As he looked at the mail he said, “Oh, my bad. I forget those things.”
“Oh,” she continued, “that man, you know, the one who rides the motorcycle, the man with the beard?
“Yeah, what about him?”
“Well, he talked to me when I picked up your mail. I think he’s looking for work.”
“What makes you think that?
“Well, he asked me if I could give him a ‘blow job” and I told him I didn’t have one, but that you were very influential in Real Estate, and you could probably give him one.”
“Oh, really. We’ll talk about your intellect, and understanding of my culture later.”
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