Chapter 3: Family Entertainment

Time feels like its moving too fast. It is already Tuesday afternoon, and the last time I did any writing for Pastor's project was Sunday evening. That was after my visit with Caitlin at her place, when I guess you could say we began our friendship. It seems like at least a week has gone by since then. Maybe that's because I feel like I have known Caitlin for a long time. Which in a way I have, but only if you count a lot of imaginary conversations in my head.

I am sitting at our dining room table at home as I write this. I did not plan to be writing this afternoon. I am okay about that, but I must say it was a surprise. Right now Caitlin, who I thought was coming over after school to be with me, is out in the parking lot in front of the house playing catch using lacrosse sticks, with my sister. Caitlin does not like the way our parents and I treat her. She did not actually say that in so many words, but you don't have to be telepathic to know it. On Sunday evening, when I went to call Pastor to give me a ride, he was tied up. Actually he was with Caitlin's mom and some other people, at the community clinic where she works. They were planning a volunteer project by church people, to help fix up the clinic building and grounds. He offered to get us and bring us over there, but Caitlin didn't want to, because of her mother. So, I called my parents, and they both wanted to come over and pick me up. My sister did too.

While we were waiting for them, Caitlin asked questions about my family. Maybe I made a mistake in telling her what my dad had said only yesterday, that my sister Clarabelle was ugly because our parents had asked the doctors to gene-tailor her that way (to keep her from the dangers of sexual temptation), before she was conceived. Caitlin wanted to know if Clarabelle knew about this. I said I wasn't sure, but I thought so. Caitlin said, "Well, I think that really sucks". When they arrived, Caitlin invited them in. She could not have been more gracious to my whole family. Mom thinks she's wonderful, and of course wants to meet her mom. But Caitlin also went out of her way to draw Clarabelle out, and I have to say, I didn't know my sister was so interesting until I heard her talking with Caitlin. Later Caitlin told me she didn't think Clarabelle was bad looking at all, just big-boned, with a strong nose and a prominent jaw-line. Her idea is, we are all prejudiced against Clarabelle's looks because of our parent's guilt feelings, and we are all doing a terrible number on her self-esteem.

Anyway, Caitlin and I had made plans to visit by phone Monday evening. That evening as I was waiting for her to call, I asked Clarabelle not to get into a long conversation with one of her friends, because I was expecting a call from Caitlin. Bad idea. When the phone rang, Clarabelle got to it first, and I had to try to concentrate on learning my French vocabulary assignment for about twenty minutes, while the two of them talked. Caitlin and I then had a great conversation, but it was mostly about the project, and Pastor and how he is rounding up more parishioners to do repainting and other fix-up work at the free clinic where Caitlin's mom works. I had hoped we would try some phone sex, but there never seemed to be the right time to suggest it, and then Caitlin said she had to go and do homework. Sigh. At least we agreed that she would get permission to get on my bus after school today (her mother had to write a note), and I would arrange for one of my parents to take her home later. "Later" now means sometime this evening, because Mom invited her for supper, and even called Mrs. MacDougal to propose that. And, of course, the two moms had a nice long conversation, and want to meet.

So now, it seems like Caitlin has become a part of our family. I love that, I really do. Everybody likes everybody. Clarabelle treats her like a wonderful big sister, and I can tell Caitlin likes acting the big sister, too. What could be better? Well, maybe I am a little jealous about all this happy togetherness. It may sound selfish, but I thought after Caitlin and I connected on Sunday, it would be just the two of us for awhile, getting to know each other intimately in lots of different ways. Things don't get this complicated when your girlfriend is a fantasy.

Now it is around 9:30 p.m. As I was writing the above, Caitlin and Clarabelle came in out of breath, all rosy-cheeked and happy. Only, now Clarabelle is not Clarabelle anymore. Caitlin told her she thought "Clarabelle" sounded like a good name for somebody's 4-H project, and she should shorten it so it wouldn't be such a mouthful. They kicked a couple of ideas around, and the-sister-formerly-called-Clarabelle liked "Claire" best. Mom and Dad said it was fine with them, as long as "Claire" will leave the birth certificate the way it is. When one of us forgets and calls her "Clarabelle", she pretends she didn't hear the person. Only Caitlin never forgets.

After supper, Caitlin offered to help with the dishes and the clean up, and so I helped too. I was expecting the rest of the evening to follow the same "happy family" groove, but right in front of my family, Caitlin said "Roger, we have some things we need to talk about. Shall we go up to your room?" When I said "yeah", she turned to my sister and said "Claire, I need to be alone with your brother for awhile. Don't forget, you're going to meet me at the gym after seventh period tomorrow, so I can introduce you to Coach Merriweather." I thought my sister was going to hug her.

I guess my body is still getting used to having a girlfriend. By the time I shut the door behind us, I was already half-hard, and I was listening for Sleesh to start raining down into the parking lot. Then Caitlin's first words were "I think we need to talk about sex". In about two seconds, it wasn't "half" anymore. Caitlin spotted it right away, the way I wanted her to. She just smiled and said, "That looks great," and went and sat in my swivel desk chair. Then she explained, "Roger, I didn't mean DO sex, I really did mean talk about it. Don't worry, there will be plenty of time for "doing" later. Is that okay with you?" What was I going to say, "Take it off, get down there and spread your legs, bitch, I need some?" Right. I think it took my cock about five minutes to slowly deflate like a balloon, while we had a serious talk.

This is more or less how the talk went:

Caitlin: You remember when you said I might be an exception for Pastor's rule, about not telling anybody about the project? And, he also said there might be a role in the project for me, right?

Me: Yeah.

Caitlin: There was a condition to that. If I understood you, the conditional part had to do with what kind of energy developed between us. Would I be reading too much in, to assume you guys were talking about sexual energy?

Me: Well I didn't think about it exactly. I guess I figured he meant, was there an attraction, some chemistry between us? Not, like, were we actively having sex. If that's what you're worried about.

Caitlin: Hmm. So, in this meeting we have set up with Pastor after school tomorrow, I guess before we talk about a possible role for me in this mysterious project, Pastor is going to ask us about sex, right?

Me: Maybe. Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?

Caitlin: Not exactly. I mean, since Sleesh are involved somehow, you can figure that sex is going to come into it. Its just that, with Mom having her boyfriends in and out of the house for about as long as I can remember, frankly acting like a real slut a lot of the time, my experience with sex has been a little strange, okay? At one time, the Michigan Office of Children and Families was starting an investigation into whether Mom provided a suitable home environment for a young girl. That was one reason we moved here, actually. Some of that has been traumatic, and maybe my own sexuality is feeling a little wounded and confused. I think I need to talk about some of that experience with you, before you and I become more physical. Also I was thinking, would it be okay with you if I talked some with Pastor about this, without you in the room tomorrow? Since sexuality is going to be an issue anyway, I would feel less awkward if I could try talking about it with Pastor as a concerned outsider, before I talk to you about it. How would you feel about that?

Me: Just fine. I mean, Pastor is a really great guy, and I respect his good judgement. I'm glad you think he could help.

Then we moved on to talking about different things for awhile, like classes, and Claire's interest in learning more about lacrosse and maybe trying out for the JV team next fall. Soon Caitlin said she had to get home, because she had homework material on her own computer that she needed. We had a great hug and a long kiss before we went downstairs to ask Mom to drive Caitlin home. I think I should see about setting up a password-protected partition for her on our home network. That way, she can keep copies of what she needs here, with full privacy.

Caitlin and I talked with Pastor for almost three hours this afternoon. Now I wish I had written about that right after I got home, because just after 9 p.m., I got the email that Caitlin told me earlier she was working on for me. That is what I'm thinking about now, not Pastor's project. That email is going to be part of this document too, because, no surprise, Pastor wants her to be a full project participant, in her own right and as my partner. In fact I am getting the idea that it is our relationship, as much as us as individuals, that is important to the project. We both quizzed him about that, and I will talk about what we learned later. Before I do, I want to insert Caitlin's email here, and then talk about some reactions to it. I hope writing will help me figure out better just what my reactions are. I have a lot of intense feelings, including confusion, lust, and sadness. Maybe I will try to put it in the form of an email to Caitlin, since she will be reading this anyway. (Hi, I love you babe, and everything is going to be okay.)

First though, I should mention briefly some of the main points that came out of our talk with Pastor, because that is background to some of what Caitlin wrote about.

There was never any question about Caitlin being invited into the project, just as I thought. Pastor told her about this journal or whatever it is exactly that I am keeping, on the topics of my developing relationship with Caitlin, and with the project too. The most wonderful part of the visit was when, after Pastor asked how we felt about each other, Caitlin said she felt like she was being swept along into something huge and grand. She said it felt like falling in love, even though it is stupid to use a word like that when we are only starting to know each other. But everybody knows feelings don't have to be rational, she added. I said I felt the same way, and that it was the most wonderful feeling. Pastor nodded and gave us a big smile, saying he felt very happy for us.

Then he brought us back to the journal. He told us Caitlin should contribute to that herself, if she wants. He thinks it could be very valuable to us, both now and later, as well as to the project. We asked what exactly it had to do with the project. His explanation was complicated, and frankly I am not sure how well I understood it. Caitlin acted like it made perfect sense to her though. (I'll come back to this subject later.) Pastor wanted to know how we felt about other people reading what we wrote, meaning other participants in the project, and unknown other beings who may become aware of the Schroedinger's Cat Box and its contents, when the experiment actually goes in motion. I had already told Pastor I was fine with other readers, and Caitlin said the same thing. Neither of us wanted our parents, friends, or the general public to see it though. Some things really ought to be private, even in a world with Sleesh. (If that is possible anymore.)

Pastor was extremely excited about Caitlin' ability to read and be understood to some extent by Sleesh, in ways most humans can't. He asked her a lot of questions intended to gauge the limits to her receiving and sending, to discover as concretely as possible what she picked up, and what form it took within her awareness. From some of the questions, he may be worried that because Sleesh seem to be able to tune in on Caitlin's thought content much better that they can with the rest of us, it could give them more knowledge about the Project than he likes. But, that did not make him back off at all from letting Caitlin know everything that our lack of technical training allows us to understand. Thankfully, because after she has gotten so excited about this project, I think that being kept in the dark would have been a major blow to her.

It was while he was quizzing her about the content of the Sleesh feelings and thought-images, and her emotional reactions to them, that she asked if she could talk with him about that privately. Since I had been expecting this, I had books and things to work on, and the 45 minutes or so I spent at a table in the rectory were very productive. When she came out she looked very moved, smiling with tears in her eyes. She gave me a big hug, and said the talk had been very valuable to her. While she was over getting her coat and scarf, Pastor said to me, "Your friend is a very sensitive and strong young woman. She has some things to tell you, and then you need to be there for her." Before we left, he asked both of us if we minded not having the kind of sex that led to orgasms, before the experiment this weekend. That really surprised me, but it wasn't like we already had an appointment set up for that. I'm not sure it was a surprise to Caitlin though. She didn't talk much while Pastor drove us to our homes.

I am going to skip a lot of the important content of our visit with Pastor until later. This is the email text that Caitlin sent me, about half an hour ago.

Dearest Roger,

It feels good to write "Dearest Roger"; only just a little bit scary. It is almost 9 p.m. of the day we visited Pastor. I am adding this short opening to a letter to you that I have been working on for several days. It is not easy for me to allow myself to be fully aware of some of the things I wrote in it, much less share them with another human being. I am not sure why ("the heart has its reasons"), but you are the only person I could share this with, except partly with Pastor. I hope you will understand why I wanted you to see this before we let the sexual part of our relationship go further. It may also explain why I still need to go slow, even though I am so attracted to you it hurts sometimes. Also, it may help you understand how much I need your wonderful empathy and compassion. I know this will challenge your capacity for both those things, but I have a fatalistic feeling that whatever happens, it will come right in the end. The next part of this letter I started two days ago, the day after we met.

A funny and completely unexpected thing has happened since you visited me Sunday afternoon. Remember how I told you that I could sense some of your feelings, coming through to me by way of the Sleesh outside? I thought at the time that the subtlety and detail of what I was picking up from you was far beyond my previous abilities. The odd thing is, it has stayed that way since, maybe even gotten stronger. For example I think I just had something like a conversation with Sleesh, highly unusual. A lot of them have been hanging around since your visit, like I have gotten more interesting to them all of a sudden. The subject of this "conversation" was masturbation, a topic that has come to mind a few times since your visit. I tried to put it to the Sleesh that none of us humans could understand why they had destroyed so many people when the people were masturbating, or getting ready in their minds to do that. Here is what I got back: 1) Confusion, since for them individuals hardly exist, and killing is about like pruning a bush would be to us. 2) The feeling that it is not even them doing it, rather it is just the way the universe works, and that before they came we had been too locked up in our individual heads to know it. And finally, 3), more confusion, because there is nothing wrong in their mind with what I imagine when I think about masturbating. I thought at first that was because as far as the Sleesh understand things, you and I have already started an erotic relationship, but that turned out to be only a small part of it. Our existing erotic relationship protects us, remember, as long as you fantasize about me and I fantasize about you. You understand, I hope, that if I did masturbate now (and I haven't yet since we met) I could no more fantasize about anybody but you while I was doing it, than jump to the moon.

Beyond that issue, what is abhorrent to the Sleesh is not only masturbation without any flow between the people involved. What is DANGEROUS and WRONG for Sleesh (because it violates important universal principles), is self-pleasuring that drives people apart, and makes humans more isolated than we already are. Okay, I don't fully get the distinction here, between "safe" and "unsafe" self-pleasuring. I'm not sure as a human I am capable of getting it, and frankly I did not try, because the Sleesh kept right on broadcasting or thinking out loud, whatever you want to call it.

(Brief insert: Before I go on to talk about what they "told" me, I need to give you a couple of Sleesh concepts, so you and I have the beginning of a common language about Sleesh thought. "Like" is not a word that would be in any Sleesh vocabulary if they had one, but "interest" very much would be. In fact, what we mean by that pales in comparison to what they feel. "Interest" is more like an imperative that they have no volition about. Another "word" for them would be "take seriously". Probably a more accurate way to put that, as applied to humans, is: "Accept as being real people, and not just meat robots".)

Since the visit we had Sunday afternoon, they "take you and me seriously" and are very "interested" in us. Maybe the next part is my latent narcissism embellishing on that, but I get the strong feeling that they think we are "important". At the same time I picked that up (I think), I had an image of Pastor and his friends building a powerful and dangerous something in the church. The feeling I was getting was, you and I are ALREADY a cornerstone to that machine, or our relationship is its fuel or something. Weird, hey? The part that should make Pastor feel better is, they think that what he is working on is our (human) business, not theirs. Although they believe it may change everything including their life here on Earth, they will not try to help or interfere with the project. That definitely does NOT mean they aren't very "interested", and I think Pastor can expect more and more Sleesh company as the project moves forward.

Okay then. Somehow because you came into my life, I am now more sensitive to Sleesh than ever. But the real thing I am writing to tell you about, is some of the ways that that sensitivity, though less acute before, has shaped my development over at least the last four years. (Pause for thought and rapid heartbeats here.) Perhaps the best way to explain what I mean is to just "show" you some picture postcards from my collection. In other words, share some of my memories of past encounters with or through Sleesh. Actually, "through" is probably the more important word here. As you will see.

Just one more necessary bit of stage setting before the slide show. I have a bad relationship with my mother. (Duh, like you didn't notice.) You just caught the merest tip of that ice-burg when you came over. The way I would put it is, she has never BEEN my mother, except briefly and unpredictably, from time to time. She would of course see it differently. What I mean by that is, my needs were never important to her, not next to her own, and the various men in her life. And, if you think charming Mr. Ott must be near the bottom of Mom's man barrel, guess again. I am so used to being a piece of furniture in this house when Mom has a man over, it doesn't even surprise me when they both treat me that way.

Now, consider three things you already know or can figure out: 1) I am very sensitive to Sleesh thoughts/ feelings, and the Sleesh are strong telepaths with a great interest in human sex. 2) A lot of sex goes on in our house, most of it bad, some of it very, very bad. 3) I am human, a young female-type human with little direct experience of my own, but a lot of indirect experience because of where I live. Okay, end of necessary stage setting.

Picture One.

See little Caitlin, wandering around a not-very-nice neighborhood of Detroit, in the dark. She is twelve. Her mother has no idea where she is, and could care less. Caitlin does this a lot, actually, and has a high opinion of her own ability to take care of herself.

She hears loud screaming coming from an empty lot, behind the wooden fence that runs beside the sidewalk where she is walking. Her first thought, little urban sophisticate that she is, is rape or murder. Then she realizes it is two cats. Actually she was right about the rape part, but fully consensual rape, cats being what they are.

She walks around the fence and into the dark, rubble-strewn lot, to watch the show. The first thing she sees, before she sees the cats doing something loud and interesting, is three big Sleesh in a semi-circle. She can see at a glance that these are fully aroused Sleesh. More, she can feel in her mind their arousal. She can even (and this part is new to her) empathize with it in her own body. She notices that her soft parts inside her underpants are wet, and her newly sensitive nipples are more sensitive than usual.

She feels the Sleesh being aware of her, even before they shift position to allow her into their circle. Now she can see the cats. A scrawny orange tabby tom has his teeth in the neck of the gray cat under him. That one is doing most of the screaming, while he contributes a loud whine that rises and falls like a siren. The female is very little, and Caitlin immediately feels sorry for her. The male is pumping his thing into her. Caitlin cannot actually see this, but she can see his frantic thrusts, and she understands enough to know what they mean. She has an instinctive sympathy for small female creatures, and she decides that she should drive away the wicked tomcat torturing her.

As she thinks this, she feels the attention of the Sleesh shift. Before, it was on the cats, with her somewhere at the periphery. Now it is on her, with the cats at the periphery. She has felt things like this for years, but never this strongly. Not even the most subtle body movement or sound betrayed the shift in their attention.

Suddenly it is as if an unseen hand had torn a curtain away from the window of a room where people are doing something. Now see can see inside. But it is much more than that: She IS the rutting tom, she IS the wildly in heat little female. She understands in a way below understanding, that yes, the female is being hurt, but at this instant she needs what is happening to her to keep on happening, more than Caitlin can imagine needing anything. And, the tom feels just the same way. The two are on the same wavelength, and the flow between them is powerful.

It takes a few moments of allowing that to resonate inside her, to become aware that she is actually feeling this on a sensory level. It hits her like a rock in the face: the fangs in the back of her neck, the cat-cock tearing at her. That last part seems to magnify, and the other thoughts and sensations to fade into the background. She can "see" it and feel it at the same time. It is red. Also, wet and cone-shaped, and covered with sharp spines that face backward. The spines hold the frantic penis inside her, so she can't escape. It feels like something big with fishhooks all over it, tearing and tearing at the soft pink walls of her private place. She is in agony, and vastly more excited than she has ever been before. In fact, she understands that she never had a clue before what those words, "be excited", really meant. Now she can begin to understand the disturbing noises her mother makes sometimes, when a man is in her bedroom with her.

Then almost as suddenly as they came, the sensations and the awareness fade. Not completely, but now they are not exactly her own feelings, but things she is looking at with some distance. She senses that this softening of focus is due to something like compassion on the part of the Sleesh. She is not sure about that, because compassion is a subtler feeling than lust and need.

She also sees/ feels that the Sleesh have what they needed from her already. Their own lust has been kicked up to a much higher level now. One of the big males has managed to slide himself up a canted section of broken brick wall, and is in the process of tipping himself head-first into the female, who has already positioned herself precisely to take him in. The other male crowds around helpfully, touching both of them gently with his engorged head, but mostly mirroring and amplifying their feelings back to them.

Instantly the she-Sleesh's strong tentacles whip around the big male's foot. Caitlin knows as if the feelings were her own, that they bring him both ecstasy and pain, in a combination as precisely tuned to release his passion as a key in a padlock. She watches with her eyes and not-eyes as the female, once little but now big enough to take in all of her mate, lifts him and plunges him into herself, lifts and plunges, lifts and plunges. As she does this, the girl can hear a grinding noise, like somebody had tossed a bucket of gravel into a big commercial dryer and turned it on. You've heard that noise too, haven't you dearest Roger?

Picture Two.

Caitlin is thirteen or fourteen. Actually, you can think of her as either one, or even some other age, because this scene has been repeated in essence, scores of times now. Really, Picture Two is a collage, or perhaps a Kaleidoscope full of different but related images.

Mom has a new man over. His teeth are yellow or shark-like. He grins sometimes for no apparent reason, or else glowers all the time. Sometimes he smells bad, or turns out to have no visible means of support. Not an honest one, anyway. If he is more than a one-nighter, he probably hogs the bathroom and makes you step out of his way in the narrow upstairs hallway that we had in Detroit. When Mother first brings him home, the two grown-ups will spend time in the living room making small talk. Usually they have drinks, which Mom always makes herself.

While this dreary drama is going on, the little girl practices the subtle art of being invisible to adults. Not long after the two adults have given up the pretense of being interested in each other in any way but one (and usually when the little girl is already in bed), she can feel the Sleesh begin to drop by to watch. It is not as if these visitors say "hello" to her exactly, but she can always feel their awareness of, their interest in, herself. She senses that that is because such a nice easy flow has already developed between the little girl and the big aliens. In fact, and it takes her a surprisingly long time to realize it, she is the main reason that the female adult and its interchangeable male partners living in the same house with her, retain some interest for them.

When the lovemaking, if you want to call it that, starts, she closes her mind to it. After the first time or two, it isn't even interesting, less interesting anyway than the cats. Even so, she can feel the Sleesh tossing images her way, trying to get her attention without being very pushy about it. Sometimes in the middle of reading about a horse or something, she will get a strobe-like color image of a couple of grubby fingers working Mom's wet cunt-lips apart. Or, she will feel the eager triumph in some male mind when he manages to pull Mom's head down so her mouth takes in his shaft.

Often, especially in the last half-year when she became so much better at it, the girl remains unmoved throughout, and forces the Sleesh to keep their little sensory treasures to themselves. But it makes the Sleesh so happy when she watches with them, and sometimes she still does. When that happens, gradually her mother's sensations become her own. Sometimes the man's experience is coherent enough that she can tune into that too. Often this is more exciting for her, and she rides his sensations as he fucks Mom.

Way back when, the girl had already heard a lot about what masturbation was, even before this free flow of erotic energy began to come her way. She certainly knew that it killed people, and it scared her. When all of this was still very new to her, (I think that must have been when she was getting close to her thirteenth birthday), she became aware how pleased the Sleesh were with her own arousal. In fact, the sprouting of little black hairs between her legs and the enlargement of her nipples pretty much coincided with the sudden blossoming of her heightened Sleesh-consciousness. She suspected all along that this was no coincidence.

One evening, "watching" the Sleesh watch Mom and her man grope at each other, she put her hand under the covers and let it rest between her legs. It felt nice, not only tingly-good, but comforting too. She could sense the Sleesh all relax somehow when she did this. Staying ever vigilant for a headache or any of the other bad sensations that people said came whenever (she thought) Sleesh found solitary erotic activity, she slowly and carefully expanded her sensory boundaries. She allowed just the tips of her fingers to discover the shape of herself through the crotch of her pajama bottoms. For many evenings, that was as far as she allowed things to go, and the Sleesh did not encourage her to try more. But, neither did they punish her for what she was doing.