In the Next Life, Canto III, stanzas 315-319

And then she thought to ask the six four K:
“Sir, what are your intentions, if you please?”
All right, so what exactly did she say?
I wouldn’t know; I don’t speak Insidese.

“I’d like to take this rascal for a jaunt
while I become a super-hominid,
and then my spirit will return to haunt
those who would kill me, and who nearly did.”

He sounded less like Heaven’s messenger
and more like one who might have upward passed,
yet Ciral somehow still excited her.
No wonder, is it? She’d but to contrast.

By this time they were at the highway’s edge,
and Esther had to laugh at Ciral’s eyes,
for not unlike a baby bird in fledge,
he exercised new limbs with some surprise.

“Be quiet, girl; I need to concentrate.”
He couldn’t take the ridicule in stride.
She knew a weakness now, at any rate.
With prudence, she could prey upon his pride.

6 4 K: The $64,000 Question was an early television quiz show whose title came to mean the most important of a series of questions.

©2011 Louis A. Merrimac

In the Next Life, Canto III, stanzas 309-314

And so as soon as she’d removed the screws,
she dropped the panel just within her reach,
but out of his, as one with naught to lose
might leave a rowboat hidden by the beach.

With that in mind, she made the little snip
and others. Here a tighten, there a splice,
and then they were in motion. Get a grip!
Recover balance! This was not so nice.

“It’s dark,” he said, as he switched on the spots.
The day returned by quadrants all around.
She had to look, though knowing she’d see lots
of damaged corpses strewn about the ground

The smoke was clearing now, and nearby knelt
some half a dozen tubes. They had reclaimed
the humans from her ship, and Esther felt
relief, regret, and something yet unnamed.

Her relatives were safe; for that thank God,
but Esther could have joined them had she known.
And more than death, that they now lived abroad
increased her sense of being all alone.

Now she had Ciral, whom she could not lose.
Someone like this would not again appear,
so when he said again that she could choose,
she gave up them and then for him and here.

©2011 Louis A. Merrimac

In the Next Life, Canto III, stanzas 301-308

Once in the cockpit, she confessed her lack:
“It’s never been my job to run this craft.
There is no way to bring the pilots back.
So will you drive this thing yourself?” she laughed.

He emptied on the floor a bag of tools
and handed her a crude screwdriver blade.
“Don’t be too sure you’re following the rules
unless you know what game is being played.”

He pointed to a panel on the wall.
“Remove that piece and cut the yellow wire.”
She asked him for a scissors or an awl,
but got instead a sideways-cutting plier.

She’d wanted something sharper for defense,
for she was certain that he would attack.
The screwdriver—but he had too much sense.
As soon as she was done he took it back.

The panel—she could use it as a club,
but she would have to do it in advance.
And that eraser could give her a rub.
Until he struck, she wouldn’t take that chance.

And ere that happened, how could she be right?
Aware not what he’d done nor might yet do,
for all she knew, God might have seen her plight
and sent an angel down to see her through.

Unlikely? Sure. Romantic? Oh, you bet.
And though he didn’t look the dashing prince,
he blew away what she had thought she’d get.
It didn’t take much charming to convince.

©2011 Louis A. Merrimac