Boukey laughed. "Of course, not only do Calliokan's have double the fingers, they have double the lifetime!! It was CallioPetey Jack himself! You can imagine my feelings. Well, there was a harrumph from inside the house, the distinct sound of a bottle being corked, and then a yelp from a ratty blorghound who preceded his master out of the door. Into the sunslight stepped a figure no bigger than the little old woman still weaving Calliokan tunes on her guitar. He looked at us suspiciously for a moment, then saw Sharazade, with the slash upon her face, and grinned."

"Now there is a pretty woman, don't you think so, Dorf?" he turned to his companion.

"Why the bejezuz are you asking me for -- don't let him start on you, Missy, he may be a hundred and sixty, but don't let him start on you." She strummed a mite angrily on her instrument.

"Now, Dorf. Waal, I suppose we better introduce ourselves, one to the other." He stuck out his hand. "CallioPetey Jack, but call me Jack".

He had 5 fingers on his hand. And 5 on the other.

I stepped back in some shock. Sharazade took his hand, but said nothing.

Then I came forward, and stammered out who we were, and some other nonsense.

"Waal," said Jack, "you had best come out of the suns. Wouldn't want this charming lady to catch her death. There is room there on the sofa, if you two don't mind bunching together, and I don't see why you would." So we sat down, while he swatted his blorghound off his porch chair, and sat down as well.

"I hope you don't mind my asking something, Sir, Jack."

"Shoot".

"I don't mean to doubt who you are or anything, but, um, you don't, well --"

Sharazade chimed in, as if reading my mind. "He wants to know how you can play so beautifully such complex music with only five fingers on each hand. He has been regaling me all through our voyage here with stories about your virtuosity, and the extraordinary capacities of Calliokan guitarists."

Jack smiled, "Isn't she just the sweetest thing, isn't she, Dorf?"

Dorf muttered."Well, my dear, the tragedy of it all is that my dear Mother, rest her soul, was an Earthling by descent, and Papa was a Calliokan. So what do I get: Calliokan height, and Earth fingers! Had a brother, passed on now, Vern, had it the other way around, Earth height and Calliokan fingers. Couldn't play guitar to save himself from hanging. Fast typist though. Why, he was so good that they raced him once against one of those speaking/typing machines, you know where you speak into a microphone and the computer types it out?"

We nodded that we knew of such machines.

"Well, they took Vern and this machine to a farm auctioneers convention up Destarlillo Side Road, and set them to work. At the end of the day Vern won, but the strain was too great -- he died on the spot. Wrote a song about it once -- bout a Key-Driving Man."

The old woman cackled: "He's been telling that whopper for 100 years!! Heavens, once he gets started, we could be here all day. Would you two like some coffee? Key-Driving Man! Holy Hannah!"

We said that we would like some coffee. She went towards the door, and then turned back around: "I only stay with 'im because of his sense of humour. He has a roving eye like all men. Remember, I warned you."