Chapter 4

I guess joining with Ellana must have afforded me some sort of status in the clan. If the women regarded me with some interest before, it was even more so now. If the men were friendly at our first meeting, now they treated me like a brother or a son. Envy, jealousy, selfishness didn’t seem to have any place in their lives; dissembling unnecessary among those who had no need to hide anything but their existence. These people were the perfect foster family, the kind I’d often fantasized about growing up.

As the days, weeks and months flowed by, my life became practically idyllic. Somewhere along the way, the big chip permanently affixed to my shoulder fell off. I never realized how much on edge I was until I wasn’t. For the first time since I could remember, I didn’t feel any need to be on the defensive, to look for trouble coming my way from around every corner. It was a nice feeling; so nice that I couldn’t quite believe it was true.

I wasn’t really required to do all that much of the day-to-day work, but I insisted on doing my fair share, even if it was nothing more than cleaning up around Errol’s shop, helping Ellana prepare dinner, or brushing Ninnith’s long slate-gray hair while she lectured on some mathematical principle or event in history. She was always teaching, whether or not I was scheduled for a lesson.

I had my regular duties of course. I cut the grass around the house once a week and tended the flower garden. Even out in the country like we were, there was still too much pollution in the air for them to work outside for more than a few minutes at a time.

Every few days, Ellana gave me a list of things she needed by way of groceries. That wasn’t as easy as it sounds because there were absolutely no processed foods on the list; no Mac ‘n Cheese, no chips, no canned foods, no commercially baked goods, nothing that contained any preservatives, salt, sugar or anything else like that. I got raw milk from a dairy a few miles away that boasted grass-fed cows, whole grains from a wholesale outlet in the city, fresh vegetables and fruits from farmer’s markets or a produce distributor.

A lot of our vegetables were grown right there in the caves. Not long after the Elves and I discovered each other, Chiam took me down a long tunnel to show me their hydroponics gardens; his own special realm. I could see immediately where most of the power from the solar panels went. There were LED grow lights everywhere, and they were all on timers. He grew tomatoes the size of cantaloupes, cucumbers, squash, several kinds of lettuce, strawberries, you name it. In another dark, damp room, he grew a bumper crop of mushrooms.

About the only commercially produced treat they allowed themselves was good wine. They couldn’t grow enough grapes hydroponically to make their own, so they had a list of some of the best labels, domestic and foreign, to keep in stock. There was a huge liquor store about a hundred miles away that I shopped once every two or three months, loading up the bed of the Tundra with cases and cases. I don’t drink any more alcohol than an occasional beer, because growing up with a couple of drunks as parents pretty much scared me away from that habit. I know it isn’t charitable to feel this way, but drunk people disgust me.

On the protein side of things, they even had an area way out in the farthest stretches of the cave where they raised chickens. There were about twenty of them, and they were allowed to scratch around in an area about the size of a tennis court. Timers controlled the lighting, providing them a normal diurnal cycle. They produced lots of eggs and tender young fryers. Their nitrogen-rich manure, along with the ground-up and composted leftover parts from butchering, and all vegetable matter waste, was used as fertilizer in the hydroponics gardens. Wasting anything was anathema to these people.

The hardwood I’d seen stacked up in the garage that first day was stock for Errol’s projects. If he needed more wood or anything special, it was my job to drive somewhere and find it. I mentioned all those power tools in the garage. They were all Uncle Sam’s. Errol never used them. He had a collection of ancient hand tools that was passed down from generation to generation, and he insisted that was how things should be made. I thought he was being a little short-sighted, but you sure couldn’t question his skill or the quality of his product. Every joint, every drawer, every cabinet door was perfectly fitted. Every item of furniture he turned out would become someone’s treasured heirloom.

I began my lute lessons the morning after Ellana initiated me into Elf love. Jakoby was right about Katia; she dragged things out of me that I didn’t even know existed. I’d plinked around on a beat-up old Gibson for years, but I never learned much more than about a dozen chords, which was a lot more than you needed for most of the songs I knew. Katia started me from scratch, showing me how to hold the instrument, how to place my thumb on the neck, and how to hold my left arm so I could reach every part of the fretboard. I spent hours getting cramps from running scales and practicing chords before we got around to any fancy finger work. I’ll never match her skill, but I’m already playing better than I ever thought I could. She and Mallya have been teaching me some of their traditional music.

And speaking of Mallya, I think she’s become my favorite lover. I have bed partners three or four nights a week. So far, three of them, Ellana, Gilleena, and Mallya have favored me with overnight visits at one time or another. Don’t get me wrong; any of the three easily beats the pants off of any lover I’ve ever had in the past, but Mallya has kind of a mischievous side to her that makes for a lot of fun and some amazing sex. She gives oral sex a whole new meaning, and I grow a boner about every time I look at her mouth. But if I had to choose one of them to be a life partner, it would be a tough choice because any of them would be more than I could ever hope for. I have no hopes of that happening, though. As welcome as they make me feel, I can’t these people marry outside their species.

Something else I learned; there’s no fear of accidental pregnancy with Elven women. They only ovulate once a year, and they do it at the same time. Elven babies are never unplanned.

Growing up, I never thought I’d see the day when I felt financially secure. Well, here I am! So far, over twenty-one grand has accumulated in my checking account, because I just don’t have all that much to spend it on, other than fuel and upkeep on the Tundra. I pay almost nothing for utilities because the solar panels and storage batteries produce all the electricity we need, even powering the grow lights. The only thing we use propane for is cooking, so that doesn’t add up to much. The HEPA filters need to be replaced about every four months, and that costs a few bucks.