Aliens For Neighbors by Clifford D. Simak

Author:Clifford D. Simak
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Faber and Faber
Published: 1960-11-15T05:00:00+00:00

Betsy was disgusted and was going home without me. That’s the kind of car she was. Just like a wife’d act.

She backed out and made a turn and headed for the road. At the road, she stopped and looked for other cars, then went out on the highway, heading straight for home.

I wasn’t worried any. I knew I could trust Betsy. We’d been through a lot together and she was intelligent, although I couldn’t remember she’d ever gone home all by herself before.

I lay there and thought about it and the wonder of it was, I told myself, that it hadn’t happened long before.

A man is as close to no machine as he is to his car. A man gets to understand his car and his car gets to understand him and after a time a real affection must grow up between them. So it seemed absolutely natural to me that the day had to come when a car could be trusted just the way a horse or dog is, and that a good car should be as loyal and faithful as any dog or horse.

I lay there feeling happy and Betsy went head high down the road and turned in at the driveway.

But we had no more than stopped when there was a squeal of brakes and I heard a car door open and someone jump out on the gravel.

I tried to get up, but I was a bit slow about it and someone jerked the door open and reached in and grabbed me by the collar and hauled me out.

The man wore the uniform of a state trooper and there was another trooper just a little way away and the police car there with its red light flashing. I wondered why I hadn’t noticed it had been following us and then remembered I’d been lying down.

“Who was driving that car?” barked the cop who holding me.

Before I could answer, the other cop looked inside Betsy and jumped back about a dozen feet.

“Slade!” he yelled. “There’s a skunk in there!”

“Don’t tell me”, said Slade, “that the skunk was drivin’.”

And the other one said, “At least the skunk is sober.”

“You leave that skunk alone!” I told them. “He’s a friend o mine. He isn’t bothering no one.”

I gave a jerk and Slade’s hand slipped from my collar. I lunged for Betsy. My chest hit the seat and I grabbed the steering post and tried to pull myself inside.

Betsy started up with a sudden roar and her wheels spun gravel that hit the police car like machine-gun fire. She lurched forward and crashed through the picket fence, curving into the road. She smashed into the lilac thicket and went through it.

I was brushed off.

I lay there, all tangled up with the smashed-down lilac and watched Betsy hit the road and keep on going. She done the best she could, I consoled myself. She had tried rescue me and it wasn’t her fault that I had failed to hang onto her. Now she had to make a run for it herself.

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