“What? You’re giving me to someone? You’re giving me to someone that I have never met?” she asked angrily.
“You have met him,” responded the alien. “He is right there.”
Kate turned to glare at the man sitting on the other end of the couch. He smiled weakly and shrank back. Kate turned back to the lizard.
“Why are you doing this?” she demanded. “I was just having a night out. I was only a few miles from my home. My Dad doesn’t care if I go out. He probably didn’t even know that I was gone.”
“You were fifteen miles from your home, you did not have your Comprehensive Personal License with you, and you are right. Not only did you not have a note from your owner, your owner did not even know that you were missing, and he has not been aware of your absence for five days.”
That last part stung. Had her father not even known that she was missing? She knew that she was not a son, and that he considered his sons his pride and joy, but did she mean that little to her father?
“I’m an American,” she responded bravely. “I’m a free person and I won’t be anyone’s possession. I’ll never understand you barbaric beings.”
The alien leaned forward menacingly. Kate pressed back against the seat.
“You are lucky that you are not on your way to the moon. Do you understand that?” It’s voice had changed. There was a dangerous quality to it that Kate had not detected until now. Maybe she was just imagining it. Whatever the reason, Kate swallowed and then nodded.
“When you see my assistant again, you may thank her that you are still on this planet. Now get out of my office. Someone will be sent to escort you to your transportation.” The Ragoon waved them away.
The man lifted a hand. “Before I go, may I ask if I can get my car back soon?”
The alien gave him a menacing look. “Are you speaking of the car that you were driving when you almost killed me and my assistant and this girl? At this moment, it is a large, what do you humans call it, paperweight that is sitting on a dock in Oakland, waiting to be shipped to China.”
“You crushed a Maserati?” asked the stunned man.
“Into a very small block of metal,” the alien responded with a touch of satisfaction in it’s mechanical voice. In a daze, the man followed Kate out the door.
Outside of the alien’s office, Kate rounded on the man. “I don’t care what they say. I am not your property.”
The man held up his hands. “Hey, I know that. I’m just as much of an American as you are.”
“And don’t try to…to take liberties with my body,” Kate said as her face reddened.
The man snorted, “Take liberties with your body? Geeze kid, what century are you from? Here’s some news. Girls these days say, ‘Don’t try anything. That’s if they don’t use the F word.”
So Kate used the word, after looking around to make sure that her father wasn’t around by some weird unlucky chance.
The man sighed. “Look, kid, let’s back up a little. What’s your name?”
Kate scowled. “My name is Kate Garcia, and I’m not a kid. I’m seventeen.” Well, I will be in a couple of days, she thought.
“My mistake,” the man responded politely. “My name is Runyon Silverstar.” He smiled and waited. Kate gave him an impersonal nod. He frowned and waited. She looked bored. He stared at her.
“You don’t know who I am, do you?” he said.
Kate lifted her nose. “Should I?” she asked in a sacccarin voice.
“I’m a famous movie star,” he said indignantly. “I was the lead in three movies. I was up for a part in ‘MacKenzie’s Rock!’”
“Never heard of it,” sniffed Kate as she lied. “Never heard of you, either.” This was the truth.
“Geeze, where have you been hiding?” Runyon grumbled. “Under a rock?”
“So sorry, Your Greatness,” responded Kate sarcastically.

It’s Annie Hall meets Indiana Jones: A young Chicagoan embarks on a solo, round-the-world journey beyond a failed relationship and in search of adventure.

The manuscript is done, but I’m enhancing a narrative thread about the breakup and the girl back home.

The story begins like this:

I’m in an overcrowded public minibus in South Africa and everyone around me is screaming. Our battered vehicle rolls backward, out of control, down one of the resplendent Twelve Apostle Mountains. We’re moments away from a 5,000-foot death plunge.