a tiny, lime-washed stone house appeared not a
hundred yards ahead of her. That was the odd thing about the Martian
midday; something small and miles away would suddenly become large and
very near as you approached it.

The heat waves did it, her father had told her. "Really?" she had
replied, and--_you think you know so doggone much_, she had thought.

* * * * *

"Aunt Twylee!" She broke into a run. By the Joshua trees, through the
stone gateway she ran, and with a leap she lit like a young frog on the
porch. "Hi, Aunt Twylee!" she said breathlessly.

An ancient Martian woman sat in a rocking chair in the shade of the
porch. She held a bowl of purple river apples in her lap. Her
papyrus-like hands moved quickly as she shaved the skin from one. In a
matter of seconds it was peeled. She looked up over her bifocals at the
panting Marilou.

"Gracious, child, you shouldn't run like that this time of day," she
said. "You Earth children aren't used to our Martian heat. It'll make
you sick if you run too much."

"I don't care! I hate Mars! Sometimes I wish I could just get good an'
sick, so's I'd get to go home!"

"Marilou, you _are_ a little tyrant!" Aunt Twylee laughed.

"Watcha' doin', Aunt Twylee?" Marilou asked, getting up from her frog
posture and coming near the old Martian lady's chair.

"Oh, peeling apples, dear. I'm going to make a cobbler this afternoon."
She dropped the last apple, peeled, into the bowl. "There, done. Would
you like a little cool apple juice, Marilou?"

"Sure--you betcha! Hey, could I watch you make the cobbler, Aunt Twylee,
could I? Mommy can't make it for anything--it tastes like glue. Maybe,
if I could see how you do it, maybe I could show her. Do you think?"

"Now, Marilou, your mother must be a wonderful cook to have raised such
a healthy little girl. I'm sure there's nothing she could learn from
me," Aunt Twylee said as she arose. "Let's go inside and have that
apple juice."

The kitchen was dark and cool, and filled with the odors of the
wonderful edibles the old Martian had created on and in the Earth-made
stove. She opened the Earth-made refrigerator that stood in the corner
and withdrew an Earth-made bottle filled with Martian apple juice.

Marilou jumped up on the table and sat cross-legged.

"Here, dear." Aunt Twylee handed her a glass of the icy liquid.

"Ummm, thanks," Marilou said, and gulped down half the contents. "That
tastes dream