it rocked. The tall kangaroo wore a red satin vest which
THE DAY op THE DISSONANCE
253
blended with her own natural rust color and, below, a kilt
similar in style to the rabbit’s. There were pockets and a
particularly wide one directly in front to permit the owner
access to her pouch. Jon-Tom stared at the lower belly but
was unable to tell if the female was carrying a joey, though
once he thought he saw something move. But he couldn’t
be sure, and since he was ignorant of macropodian eti-
quette, he thought it best not to inquire.
She also wore thick hexagonal granny glasses and a
heavy necklace of turquoise, black onyx, and malachite. A
matching bracelet decorated her right wrist, and she puffed
slowly on a corncob pipe which was switched periodically
from one side of her mouth to the other.
He halted at the bottom of the porch steps, “Are you the
one they call Snooth?”
“I expect I am,” the kangaroo replied, “since I’m the
only one around here by that name.” She took her pipe
from her lips and regarded them thoughtfully. “You folks
aren’t from around here. What can I do for you?”
“We’ve undertaken one hell of a shopping trip,” Jon-
Tom told her.
She sighed. “I was afraid of that. Just when I got
myself all nice and comfortable. Well, that’s par for the
course.”
Jon-Tom’s eyes grew wide. “That’s an expression of
my world.”
“Is it? I traffic with so many I sometimes get confused.
Sure as the gleebs are on the fondike.”
Jon-Tom decided to tread as lightly as possible, bearing
the rabbit’s admonition in mind. “We don’t want to