Hair Power by Piers Anthony

Author:Piers Anthony [Anthony, Piers]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781534919143
Publisher: Dreaming Big Publications
Published: 2016-07-05T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7:

Roque

Quiti flew to the ground, resumed physical visibility only, reset her clothing and appearance to something completely different from her norm, and walked to a nearby restaurant she had spied from the air. Now she resembled a tired older woman with spectacles and too prominent a behind.

She was in luck. There was an all you can eat entree. She took it, piled her plate modestly, but then went back twice more when others weren’t watching. She got a good bellyful.

It was still morning. She made sure no one was watching, then shifted to a new aspect: a young man roughly resembling Speedo. She got beside the highway and put out her thumb. Her mind was questing to be sure there was no dangerous driver in the vicinity. She was looking for a ride to take to a freight train stop about twenty miles distant. The train was going in a direction she wanted: where there was mental wind of a man. Would it work out? From this distance she could not be sure, but there was definite hope.

She was picked up, to her surprise, by a woman. She hesitated. “You sure, ma-am?”

“Get in, sonny. I’ve got a son like you.”

Oh. Quiti got into the car.

“Actually I had a son like you,” the woman said as she drove. “He’s dead. I miss him.”

“I’m sorry. If I may ask—?”

“Cancer. Melanoma. We thought the skin tumor wasn’t serious. Until it metastasized.”

This hit Quiti where she lived. “I—I know about cancer. My—my sister had it. Brain cancer. Inoperable. She’s gone now.”

“Maybe I knew it. There’s something about you that shows it.”

Quiti realized that that something might have been her mind questing out, intersecting the woman’s mind. Sometimes a person was aware. The woman had picked right up on that aspect, attuned to it. “It’s awful.”

“Where you going?”

“To the freight stop. Thought I’d hop a train.”

“My son did that. It’s illegal, you know.”

“I know. But affordable.”

“That’s how he saw it.”

“I think I would have liked him.”

The woman drove her to the stop. “Take care of yourself.”

“I will. Thanks.”

It was several hours before a train came. Quiti settled down against a wall and contacted Gena. Hairpower here. You okay?

Lonely.

So am I. I’m sorry. I’m waiting to catch a freight train.

Where are you going? No, cancel that; I don’t want to know anything that might mess you up.

This is okay. I’ve got mental wind of a man like me. With hair.

Oh, Quiti, I hope you find him.

I hope so too. I’ll be in touch again.

Then she contacted Speedo, letting him know that she was no longer with the trucker. I’m off their screen, I trust.

I hope. You’ll always be on my screen.

She laughed mentally. Remember: get yourself a girl. Not with hair like mine.

Got any in mind?

No. The ones I know are too old for you, or too young.

I’m at an awkward age.

Wait another year. She faded out of sight and napped.

The train came. While it was being re-tracked for its destination, she quietly climbed onto a car, up it, and settled on the roof.

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