I woke
up alone this morning.
I hadn't
really expected Sini, Kiva or Pax to be in the room, but I hadn't
anticipated Skyla being gone too. Concluding that Sini must've come
in at some point and got her, my next thought was to wonder why Sini
hadn't awakened me. Had I been sleeping so soundly that she didn't
want to disturb me, or was it that she simply hadn't bothered to
consider I might want to know where Skyla was? I honestly did try
to give Sini the benefit of the doubt – I mean, I am
a really sound sleeper – but I have to confess that my feelings
were still raw from the night before and, even though I tried not to
be upset, I still experienced some nebulous bad emotions that I
couldn't quite name.
When
I discovered Skyla wasn't there, I crawled into bed again and
attempted to go back to sleep. I should have known that would be
impossible. I really wasn't tired enough to sleep any more, and
lying awake in bed really isn't any fun unless you've got someone to
snuggle with. Reaching across the space between the bed and bedside
table, I touched the button on the top of my alarm clock. The
clock's little synthesized voice announced that it was 6:13 a.m.
Damn! Why had I
awakened so early? And it was the rarest of days too; a Saturday
when I wasn't scheduled to work at the store. I groaned.
My
phone was next to the clock. I picked it up and, yet again, touched
a button to call a synthesized voice to life. My iPhone cheerfully
asked, “How may I help you?”
“Call
Michael Brightman,” I said.
Michael
would be pissed at me for phoning him so early, I suspected, but I
needed to talk with someone and he was the only one I really wanted
to talk to just then. In response to my command, my phone initiated
the call. I could hear it ringing as I waited for my brother to
answer. At least my phone pays attention to what I say,
I thought bitterly and then immediately felt guilty for such a
self-absorbed sentiment.
Michael
answered on the fourth ring. I imagined a groggy-sounding greeting.
What I got was, “Tyler! Are you okay?”
“What?”
I said, caught off guard at the unexpected note of concern in my
brother's voice. “I'm fine. I mean...not really, but ...how did you
even know it was me?”
“Caller
ID,” Michael said. “Seriously,
are you okay?”
“More
or less,” I said. “I'm not sick or anything.”
“Oh,”
he said, all the worry draining instantly from his tone. “Okay. So,
if nothing's wrong, then why the hell are you calling me at this
god-awful hour?”
“I
didn't say nothing was wrong. A lot of things are wrong. It's
just not an emergency.”
“So,
it could have waited?”
I
sighed. “I guess, but I was awake and I needed to talk, so...”
“So
you decided to wake me up too.”
“Sorry,”
I said. “Anyway, now that we're both awake, do you want to go for
breakfast?”
“What?
No...hell, no. Josh and I were out last night and I'm
totally trashed. I'm pretty sure eating right now would be a really
bad idea.”
“Coffee,”
I said. “You could meet me for coffee.”
“I
could,” Michael conceded,
“But that would require dragging my ass out of bed and putting on
clothes and...you know, leaving the apartment.”
“I
have to talk to you.”
“About
what?”
“Me
and Sini, and...other stuff.”
“Trouble
in Paradise?” said my brother in his most snarky tone. “I can't
help with that. I suck at relationships, remember?”
“Look,
Michael, I'm sorry I said that. You know I didn't mean it.”
“Sure
you did, and it's true anyway.”
“I
need to see you,” I said. “It's really important.”
“Why
can't you just tell me on the phone?” Michael said. “That way,
neither one of us has to get up. I know you're still in bed, too.”
“How
could you know that?”
“It's
six o'clock on a Saturday, isn't it?”
I sighed
and rolled onto my back. “Okay, yeah, I'm still in bed. I'd
rather talk in person, but if you don't want to get up, I guess we
can do this on the phone.”
“Okay,”
Michael said. “So, tell me what's so important that you had to call
me this early on a Saturday.”
“I
slept alone last night,” I said. I just blurted that out and I
have no idea why. It was hardly the way I'd intended to start.
To my
utter astonishment, Michael laughed. “Oh my God...really?
Is that it?”
“What
do you mean, is that it?”
“You
slept alone. Big deal.”
“It
is a big deal and it's not funny!”
“Tyler,
are you listening to yourself right now?” Michael said. “Can you
hear how freaked out you sound?”
“Maybe
I sound freaked out because I am
freaked out.”
“Why?
Did you and Sini have a fight or something?”
“No,”
I said.
“Is
there another guy?”
“No.”
“You're
not seeing another woman, are you? No, wait...dumb question. Forget
I asked that. Is Sini seeing another woman?”
“No!”
I said. “If you're not going to take this seriously, I'm hanging
up.”
“Hey,
I'm taking it seriously. Besides, you called me, remember? I don't
care if you hang up. I'm not the one who's apparently desperate to
talk.”
“There's
a lot going on around here. I need an objective opinion.”
“Because
I'm so objective, right?” Michael said, but then he seemed
to soften up a little bit and amended, “Listen, why don't you take
a deep breath and start over? Tell me what's really going on over
there.”
I
did take a deep breath. In fact, I had to take a few of them before
I tried to continue. Sadly, my second attempt at an explanation of
the cause of my distress wasn't any better than my first one. “There
are aliens sleeping in our living room!”
“Sini?”
“Yes...but
other aliens,” I said. “Sini's brother and Pax's family.
They showed up yesterday and the whole place is in a state of
chaos...and I...I think Sini is going to leave with them.”
“Oh,”
said Michael.
“I
don't know what to do.”
“When
are they leaving?”
“I
don't know.”
“Okay,”
Michael said. “I was planning to come over there this evening to
see the kids anyway. Can you wait till then for us to talk? Like,
they're not going to beam up to their spaceship right after lunch or
something, are they?”
“I
have no idea,” I said.
“Just...don't
panic,” Michael said. “I'll see you later, I promise.”
“Okay,”
I said.
I
didn't feel all that much better after my conversation with my
brother. 'Don't panic' wasn't exactly the advice I'd wanted from
him. I'd expected something a bit more substantial. I mean, I
could've gotten 'Don't panic' by reading The Hitchhiker's Guide to
the Galaxy. Now that I'm thinking about it, Hitchhiker's
Guide might've been the more appropriate source of wisdom in that
particular situation anyway. Just then, I thought I could appreciate
how Arthur Dent must have felt during his adventures with Ford
Prefect. Most of what was happening around me clashed violently
with my concept of normalcy, yet the situation was too intimate and
tangible for me to deny that it was real.
People
from another planet were sleeping in our living room.
It
was definitely one of those moments in which I had to decide between
going crazy or going with the flow. Go with the flow...for now,
said the part of my consciousness that struggles to keep me sane. You
can think about losing your mind after you've taken your medication
and had breakfast.
Good
old voice of reason...what would I do without it?
Concluding
that it was pointless to stay in bed any longer and that I'd probably
cope better with the day ahead if I had a healthy dose of caffeine
coursing through my bloodstream along with my usual cocktail of
doctor-prescribed chemicals, I got out from under the blankets and
headed for the kitchen.
It
was strangely quiet downstairs. I didn't hear any sounds at all from
the living room, which could only mean the Erisans were already up
and moving...but where were they? The only voices I detected as I
approached the kitchen belonged to Pax and Dylan. That didn't
surprise me. Dylan is often in charge of breakfast because he's one
of our household's habitual early risers. Pax usually gets up early
too. He's the quintessential morning person who wakes up fully alert
and ready to go.
I
am not a morning person. I shuffled into the kitchen and announced
my presence with “Coffee, please.”
Dylan
laughed. “A little early for you to be out of hibernation, isn't
it?”
“Yeah,”
I said, rubbing at the kinked muscles in the back of my neck. “Look
at me, out of bed before nine o'clock on my day off, and it isn't
even because of a screaming baby demanding a diaper change. Ironic,
huh?”
Pax made
a noise like, “Eeeww!” and fell dramatically to the floor.
“Diapers! Gross!”
“I
hope you don't do that when you grow up and have kids, Pax,” Dylan
said.
“I not
going to have any kids,” Pax informed us, and hopped up from his
'faint'. “Or maybe I have kids, but my partners take care of them
because I going to fly into space.”
“The
man with the plan, eh?” Dylan said.
“Yes,”
Pax said. “I the man. That what Xander always says. I the man.”
“I'm
not sure Xander is the best role model for your future, Pax,” I
said.
“I
don't need a model,” Pax said. “I know how to roll already.
See?” He dropped to the floor again and, presumably, began to
tumble around. “This the way I roll!”
“Nice,”
I said.
Dylan
was still laughing. “You've got to give him points for effort.”
“Where
are Sini and the girls?” I said, deciding it was probably best not
to make too much fuss about Pax's obvious showing off.
“Sini
and Rommie decided to go out for breakfast,” Dylan said. “They
packed up all the kids and went downtown. Rommie said something
about Sini needing to have a girl talk, whatever that means. They
left around six o'clock.”
At
least somebody's having a meaningful conversation with Sini,
I thought. I said, “Sini got Skyla up before six o'clock?”
“Depends
on what you mean by 'up'. Skyla was pretty much asleep on her feet
from what I could tell. Cleo and Jack were ready to go, though.
Seriously, those kids take after Rommie. I swear that woman gets up
before the crack of dawn every day.”
“Says
the guy who's wide awake at this horrendous hour on a Saturday,” I
said. “So, where's everybody else?”
“I
right here!” Pax said.
Dylan
said, “You mean our
everybody, or...?”
It being
6:45 on a Saturday morning, I could pretty much predict where 'our
everybody' would be. Most of our roommates would be asleep, or at
least lying around in bed. Beau would be on Dylan's computer,
fighting his dyslexia to write an email to his little brother before
going to his job at the supermarket. Hunter would be creeping home
from wherever she'd been last night, and should soon be making an
appearance in the kitchen to eat up any meat that might be left over
from last night's dinner.
I said
to Dylan, “Our alien visitors.”
“They're
outside,” he said.
“Outside?”
If I could have stared at him in shock, I probably would have. As
it was, I felt my eyes widen and I think my jaw muscles might've gone
a bit slack. “Are you saying we've got four Erisans outside...on
Prince Edward Island in the middle of March?”
“Yeah.”
“Are
they naked?”
“I'm
pretty sure their only flavour is plain. I don't think they've ever
heard of all-dressed.”
“You're
a real comedian, Dylan,” I said. “Let's just hope none of our
neighbours looks out the window and sees them out there. What are
they doing, anyway?”
“Playing,
I think,” said Dylan.
I
crossed the kitchen and went over to the back door. Opening the door
a bit, I stuck my head out so I could hear our friends in the yard.
I didn't have to strain my ears. Immediately I opened the door I
could hear them playing. They were laughing and chirping and making
all kinds of other sounds I'd never observed before. Judging by
where all the noises were coming from, it sounded as if one of them
might be up a tree or maybe on the roof of the garden shed. Another
one was squeaking frantically. The squeaks were high-pitched, so I
thought that one was probably Suvi, or possibly Jex. The other two
seemed to be running around.
I tried
to picture the scene; four tall, naked aliens cavorting in the snow,
the sharp March breeze making their long hair fly around their heads
like flags. I imagined their blue or green skin would be bright –
and highly noticeable – against the white snow. Part of me was
desperate to be able to see them, but another part of me just wished
they'd hustle their green and blue asses back into the house before
somebody on our street called the police.
Then, as
I stood there listening, it suddenly occurred to me. There was
something not quite right about the
noises they were making.
Now,
before you all start to suggest there's no possible way I could know
what are the right noises for Erisans to make, let me try to clarify
this. It's not that I thought the noises themselves were wrong, but
it was the way they were making them that seemed off. All the sounds
were extremely high-pitched, even the ones made by Piri, who I
presumed was the one up in the tree or wherever. It might have been
my imagination, but I got the impression that our visitors weren't
merely excited to see snow. They were frenetic. They seemed
agitated, as if they had more energy than they knew what to do with
and they had to burn it off as fast and as wildly as they could.
I
came back inside and shut the door. Turning toward Dylan, I said,
“What's wrong with them?”
“You
noticed that.”
“Noticed
it? Four grown-up people from a tropical planet are out there
running around bare-ass naked in the snow and screaming like little
kids who just found out school's cancelled. I'm sure that's not
normal.”
Dylan
was quiet for several seconds, but finally he said, “They got into
the coffee.”
“Sini
drinks coffee, but it doesn't make her act like that.”
'Yeah,
she drinks it,” Dylan said.
“These guys just ate the coffee beans without bothering to grind
them and brew them first.”
“Should
I be afraid to ask how many coffee beans they ate?”
“Uh...probably,”
Dylan said. He placed something in my hand. “This was full
yesterday.”
I
examined the object Dylan had given me and realized it was a plastic
bag. I guessed this was the remains of the large packet of coffee
beans Sapphire had bought only last week which, when it was full, had
weighed a couple of kilograms. I held the bag out to Dylan. “They
ate all these?”
“I
said not to!” Pax exclaimed. “I said they supposed to make a
drink out of it, but Kiro say he
the expert on Earth stuff.”
“Some
expert,” Dylan said.
“I
tell him that I the expert because I live here,” Pax
insisted. “I said if they eat the coffee, they get sick, but nobody
listen! Then Dylan came in and nobody listen to him either.”
“Do
you think they'll get sick?” I said.
“Probably
Jex get sick. He get sick all the time,” Pax said. “Piri says
Jex delicate, but Suvi call it something else.”
I didn't
really want to explore the dynamics of Pax's parents' relationship,
so I said, “If they do get sick, what should we do?”
“Suvi
a Healer,” Pax said. “She know what to do.”
“A
Healer? Your mother's a doctor?”
“Yes.”
“For
people?”
Pax
giggled. “That a silly question, Tyler. Of course
she a doctor for people.”
“Well,
she could be a doctor for animals, like your Grandpa is. I just
thought I'd better check.”
“She
definitely a doctor for people. She work in a medical centre, and
if you have an emergency, you go there. Like, if you fall out of a
tree or if you accidentally swallow a rock, she know what to do to
fix you.”
“I...see,”
I said, making a mighty effort not to laugh.
Dylan
wasn't nearly as successful at keeping his amusement to himself.
“Pax, how did you accidentally swallow a rock?”
“It
was a small rock,” Pax said.
“Yeah...but
how?”
Pax
sighed. “It a very long story.”
That
response only caused Dylan to laugh harder. For my part, I could
easily imagine numerous scenarios in which a young child accidentally
swallows a rock. If the child in question happened to be anything
like my nephew Jack, who is constantly playing in the dirt,
swallowing a small rock by accident wouldn't really be outside the
realm of possibility.
Neither
Dylan nor I asked Pax to elaborate on his rock-swallowing incident.
We turned our attention to preparing something for breakfast. I was
highly dissatisfied that I had to drink tea with my scrambled eggs
and toast but, circumstances being what they were, it wasn't like
there was much of a choice.
Our
wayward alien visitors found their way inside just as we were
clearing the dishes from the table. They were all very cold, and
Kiro asked if we could give them some hot water to drink. That
seemed like an easy enough request. All of us should know by now,
however, that 'simple situation' and 'alien visitor' do not belong in
the same sentence.
While I
was washing the dishes, and Dylan was boiling water in the kettle and
attempting to explain to Kiro where our electricity comes from, Piri
got into the cabinets. He discovered Pop-Tarts, which he promptly
determined to be “good Earth food!” He shared them with his
spouses, who seemed to agree with his assessment of the inherent
goodness of toaster pastry. This would have been perfectly okay if
they'd each eaten one Pop-Tart, but they didn't limit themselves to
one each. Even Pax's frantic decree that, “Too much sugar is bad
for you!” – a truly unexpected statement from him – was not
enough to deter them. By the time they were done, not only
were we a coffee-less household, but we suffered from a distinct lack
of Pop-Tarts as well.
I don't
think I need to tell you that the end result of our visitors'
feasting on coffee beans and Pop-Tarts was not pretty. The crash
after a caffeine and sugar high of that magnitude was horrible, to
say the least. As Pax had predicted, they got sick.
Suvi and
Piri endured it stoically enough, but Kiro and Jex didn't. Kiro
moaned and groaned theatrically and, in between bouts of nausea,
declared loudly and repeatedly in English that Earth people had tried
to kill him. He was getting no sympathy from his sister. When Sini
got home and discovered what had happened, she told Kiro in no
uncertain terms that it was his own fault he was sick and that he was
stupid for not listening to Pax's warning about eating the coffee
beans. Kiro responded by groaning, then he announced that he was
going to throw up and dashed outside without another word.
For most
of the morning Jex lay on the couch, whimpering pitifully. Pax's
assessment of the situation was that Jex was in pain and that he was
cold, unhappy and scared. This, Pax said, was not an unusual state
of affairs as Jex was often ill and always behaved as if he were
dying, no matter the mildness or severity of the illness.
“Suvi
say Jex not that sick. She
say it all just a big game,” Pax concluded. “She say Jex
do it for attention.”
If that
was Jex's strategy, it was working splendidly. Despite Piri's own
obvious discomfort he fussed incessantly over Jex, a fact which
seemed to annoy Suvi quite a lot. At one point, as I was passing
through the living room, I overheard her talking to them and I
certainly didn't need a translator to know she was mad. If the tone
of her words wasn't convincing enough, her intimidation noise
confirmed it. I don't think her fit of temper had the desired
result, though, because Jex started crying and Piri immediately went
to comfort him. Suvi let out a growl of frustration and stomped away
from them. She commented irritably to me, “They bad. Husbands
very bad.”
I
wanted to say, Ever ask them how they feel about wives?
I
have to admit, I was with Jex and Piri on this one. Sure, they were
carrying on a bit melodramatically, but I didn't see any good reason
for her to yell at them. They were sick, and everyone knows yelling
is not good for sick men. They had each other for moral support in
dealing with their wife, though, which was more than I could say for
myself. I'm completely on my own in dealing with mine.
What
I actually said to Suvi was, “Do you need anything? Can I help
you?”
“Help?”
she echoed, sounding incredulous. “You make husbands sick. You no
help.”
“Hey!”
I exclaimed. “I wasn't the rocket scientist who told them it was
okay to eat two kilograms of coffee beans and then roll around naked
in the snow. You can blame Kiro for that.”
“Kiro
bad,” Suvi judged. “Earth bad. It all
bad. We go ship. It all good.”
“You
didn't have to come here, you know. You can go back to your ship any
time you want.”
She
didn't reply for several seconds, and I wondered if she'd understood
even half my words. At length she said, “Pax here. We come.”
“Yeah.
Well, as long as you don't–” I began, but stopped just short of
saying aloud what had sprung into my mind. Yeah, it's fine that
you're here, and it'll continue to be fine as long as you don't fly
off with Pax and Sini and my girls.
It
was unfair of me to think that, I know. Pax really belongs with his
parents, among his own people. He needs things that we can't give
him, and it would be totally selfish for me to expect his parents to
leave him here just because I love him and would miss him if he left.
Still, the idea of letting Pax go is just as awful for me as the
thought of Sini leaving.
The
silence between Suvi and I became a little awkward as it stretched
into several seconds. I'd almost made up my mind to excuse myself
and walk away when she spoke.
“I
feel...you afraid,” she said.
“Yeah,
I guess,” I said.
Then
she touched me, something she'd declined to do yesterday even though
I'd given my permission for her to do it. She traced her fingertips
gently down the side of my face, and her skin against mine felt dry
and cool, just like like Pax's and Sini's. “Your mind like Erisan
mind.”
“I
don't understand,” I said.
“I
feel you,” she said. “No feel others.”
“You
can feel me, but you can't feel other Earth people?”
“Yes.
Sini and Kiro same.”
“Pax
and Piri can feel me too,” I said. “And Jex can feel me, can't
he?”
“You
different,” she said. “Piri and Pax strong. They feel all
people. Erisan people only feel Erisan, but you different.”
“Pax
and Piri can feel all Earth people but you can only feel me, and
you're saying most Erisans are like you?” I struggled to interpret
what she was trying to tell me. “You're saying that you and Kiro
and Sini can feel me because it is me who's different?”
“Yes,”
Suvi said, although I'm not sure she fully comprehended what she was
saying 'yes' to.
“How
am I different than other Earth people?” I asked.
She
made a sound of frustration. “I no words,” she said. “Ask Sini.
She tell.”
“Okay,”
I said.
I
have to say, I was highly intrigued by the notion that it was
something unusual about me that made Sini able to sense my
feelings. I'd never imagined myself as someone with an unusual mind,
and I couldn't even begin to guess what actually made my mind
different from the mind of any other average Earth person, but I was
definitely curious to find out. Hopefully, Sini would be able to
tell me. She'd never mentioned anything about it before, and I'd
always assumed she could read my emotions by virtue of our close
bond. I'll confess I felt just a little let down to learn that
wasn't the case, because I really like the idea of our relationship
being unique and special, but my disappointment did not in any way
outmatch my desire to understand what was really going on.
It
was only after the sound of Suvi shuffling her bare feet on the
hardwood floor alerted me to the fact she was still standing in front
of me that I realized I'd gotten lost in my own thoughts. I wondered
if Suvi was waiting for me to continue our conversation or if perhaps
she needed something.
Taking
a guess that she wasn't really interested in talking with me any
more, I said. “Suvi, what do you need?”
She
seemed to be deliberating for several seconds, but then she replied.
“Water.”
“You
want water? Okay. I can do that. Come with me.”
She
followed me out to the kitchen and hovered at my elbow while I filled
a large glass with water. She was fascinated by the process,
although I couldn't imagine why. Eris is a technologically advanced
world, and I know from what Sini has told me that indoor plumbing is
just as commonplace for them as it is for us. I wanted to ask Suvi
why she was so curious about my filling a glass with tap water, but I
knew I'd just confuse her if I did, so I kept my own curiosity to
myself.
I put
one of Pax's bendy straws in the glass. Piri had been pretty excited
about those at dinner last night, and had demanded to know the
English word for them. He'd repeated it over and over until he got
it right. It was a challenge for him because the Erisan language
doesn't have blended consonants and Piri, by his own admission,
hasn't got much aptitude for languages. His explanation of this –
“I learn bad words” – lost a lot in translation, but Pax helped
me figure out what his father had been trying to say. Piri learned
quite a few new words last night despite his linguistic shortcomings,
including the names of most of the vegetables that we served, the
names of various articles of clothing and, most notably, how to say
piano.
I have
to grin when I think about Piri's reaction to my piano. At first he
seemed a little afraid of it, but once Pax helped me explain to him
that it's a musical instrument, he became very animated and insisted
that I show him how it works. I played a few scales for him and he
was able to repeat what I'd done with little effort. Then, he wanted
me to play an Earth song for him. The song I chose isn't particularly
difficult, but I think it's lovely, and it reminds me of the first
time Sini described the sunrise for me.
When I
was done, Pax clapped appreciatively. He said Piri should have a
turn at the keyboard, and I agreed, mostly because I wanted to see
what would happen. To my utter astonishment, Piri began to play
something that sounded remarkably close to In The Morning Light,
the song I'd just finished. After that, no one could get him away
from the piano. His aptitude for languages may not be great but his
ear for music is totally off the charts. Once he'd gone up and down
the keyboard a few times and worked out which keys produce which
notes, he was able to play very simple but nevertheless lovely
renditions of several melodies from his world. Most of them were
unfamiliar to me but I did recognize a few, including Kiva
Anoa, the Erisan love song for
which my younger daughter is named.
At
one point Piri had started singing along with his own accompaniment,
which occasioned much chirping on the part of Suvi and Pax. With his wife and
son beside him Piri started the song over again, and the three of
them sang together in exquisite three-part harmony. I didn't
understand any of the words, but the sound was beautiful.
By
the time they were done, Sini and Kiro were crying. Even Jex, who
could not hear the music, was weeping. Jex must've been signing
something because I overheard Kiro comment to somebody, “Jex says
they are overflowing with love and joy. He says they have not only
found the missing part of their trio but they have also found the
missing piece of their souls.”
That
should've made me happy, but it didn't. All it did was make me feel
even more miserable as I thought about how much Pax has woven his
way into the metaphorical fabric of my
soul. Suvi and Piri may have regained the third part of their trio,
but where did that leave me? I tried not to think about it, but you
know how that goes. The harder you try not to think about something,
the more you think about it.
But,
I digress. I was telling you about my encounter with Suvi.
I
gave her the glass of water and then followed her back to the living
room. Suvi spoke to Piri and Jex in their language and it sounded
like maybe she was apologizing to them. It was kind of hard to tell,
but Piri's reply sounded contrite. Maybe he was apologizing too. I
imagined the conversation consisted of her saying that she was sorry
for losing her temper and that he was sorry for being a pain in the
ass, but she had to understand that he wasn't feeling well and she
must know by now how he gets when he's ill. She responded with some
variation of the non-word sound that I refer to as 'comfort clicks'.
Maybe that was, I know. Let me see if I can make it
better.
It was
apparent Suvi couldn't get Jex to drink anything but, after a little
coaxing, Piri drank some water. I could hear him slurping it, and I
guessed he must've placed the straw just beneath the surface of the
water to produce that noise. Obviously, he'd learned that trick from
Pax last night. One of Pax's favourite ways to get a rise out of
people at the dinner table is to make slurping noises with his straw.
We've stopped asking him not to do it. The only way to make him stop
is to pretend it doesn't annoy us at all. Reverse psychology, you
know?
Suvi
finished off the water herself and gave the empty glass back to me.
She said, “Thank you,” and Piri echoed the sentiment.
Sometime
after noon they all fell asleep, Jex and Piri on the couch, Suvi
curled into a beanbag chair nearby and Kiro sprawled in the middle of
the living room floor with one of the throw pillows from the couch
under his head. Sini described the whole scene to me in a tone of
disgust. She finished off by saying that her compatriots looked like
a bunch of students passed out after attending an all-night party and
having chewed too much of something called hazha
root. When I asked her what that was, she said it's a plant-based
intoxicant. According to her, hazha
is a recreational drug used by pretty much all adult Erisans and,
from what she told me, I gathered that it makes people feel
uninhibited and overly confident and just plain awesome. She
explained that if it's overused, however, users can hallucinate or
become ill. The aftereffects of too much hazha make
you feel like you've been bashed over the head with a big stick, your
eyeballs enlarged to the point where they no longer comfortably fit
your eye sockets, and your mouth filled with ashes from the previous
night's bonfire.
“Are
you speaking from personal experience?” I said.
She
didn't seem amused and told me that it was none of my business. That
sounded to me like the response of someone who'd suffered one too
many hazha-induced
hangovers and was none too proud of her youthful indiscretions. I
didn't pursue the topic any further but, in some weird way, it was
kind of reassuring to know that Erisans are prone to the same
weaknesses as we are. I could just picture that wild Erisan party,
beautiful blue and green bodies dancing next to a roaring fire,
everyone high on hazha
root and ready to do unspeakably reckless and pleasurable things.
Sex and drugs and...it suddenly occurred to me that I've never asked
Sini if Eris has a version of rock-n-roll.
When
they woke up in the late afternoon, our guests all seemed to have
recovered to varying degrees. Kiro crept out to the kitchen and
asked for water. It was Remi's night to cook dinner, and I was
hanging out with him while he worked at it. Remi got a glass of
water for Kiro and he sat down on the floor to drink it. He
volunteered that he didn't have an upset stomach any more, but that
he was sore all over. I wasn't surprised.
The next
one to turn up in the kitchen was Piri. He seemed pretty much fully
recovered and even told us that he was hungry. Okay, what he
actually said was, “I eat?” but we got the general idea. Remi
gave him a carrot and a potato, and slowly articulated the name of
each. Piri got pretty excited over the potato and even managed a
small chirp. When I asked Kiro about that, he explained that the
potato looks like a common Erisan staple vegetable called,
coincidentally enough, pato.
Apparently, pato is
much larger than our potatoes, but Kiro's description of it gave me
the impression the two vegetables are more or less the same, at least
in shape and colour.
With
Kiro's help, Piri asked us if we could cook the potato for him. I
poked some holes in it with a fork and put it in the microwave which,
predictably, became another focal point of fascination.
Unfortunately, I couldn't really explain how the microwave works. I
said he'd have to ask Sini about it later.
Piri sat
on the floor next to Kiro and nibbled his carrot while his potato was
baking. It wasn't hard to tell from which parent Pax had inherited
his insatiable curiosity and his enthusiasm for life. I listened to
Piri chattering away in the tone of a small boy at Canada's
Wonderland and found myself amazed that he seemed none the worse for
wear after that morning's adventure. Not for the first time, I
wished that I shared the Erisans' empathic sense. I would've loved
to know what was going though Piri's mind.
Knowing
what was going on in Kiro's head wasn't difficult to figure out.
The more Piri talked, the more irritated Kiro became. In the middle of Piri's monologue,
Kiro exclaimed in English, “Shut up! I do not care about stupid
Earth technology!”
“What's
the matter, Kiro?” I said, even though it was fairly obvious at
that point.
“He is
acting like a child at his first street market, and it is annoying
me.”
“Now,
there's some irony for you,” I said.
“I do
not recall asking for your input.”
“I
didn't ask for yours yesterday, but I got it anyway, didn't I? Now
you know how it feels.”
“It
feels like you are enjoying
it.”
“Possibly,”
I said. “Come on. Cut the guy some slack. He's excited about
being on a new planet. I seem to recall you were excited yesterday.”
“That
was before you tried to kill us with your dangerous Earth food.”
“Coffee
beans are not food,” I reminded him. “And Pax did try to warn
you.”
“Details,”
Kiro said.
“Important
details. If a stranger was visiting your world and you told him not
to eat a poisonous plant, would you expect him to do it anyway?”
“That
is ridiculous. I would expect him to trust my experience.”
“Pax
has been here a while and he knows that eating two kilograms of
coffee beans is dangerous.”
Kiro
made a disgruntled noise. “You reason like an Interpreter of the
Law.”
“A
lawyer?” Remi said from his place at the counter. “Check it out,
Tyler. He's only been here one day and he's already got you pegged.”
I
said, “Guilty as charged.”
“You
are an Interpreter of the Law?” Kiro asked. “A...lawyer?”
“Not
until I finish school, but yeah. That's what I'm going to be.”
“My
condolences.”
Remi
laughed at that, and so did I. Remi said, “I guess there are some
universal constants.”
“I
guess so,” I agreed. “Lawyers: reviled everywhere in the known
universe.”
Piri
interjected then, with what was clearly a question delivered in a
tone that had a distinct whine in it. My off-the-cuff interpretation
was, What's so funny? I hoped he didn't think we were
laughing at him. Fortunately, Kiro intervened with a translation of
what we'd been saying and, once Piri understood, he laughed too.
Piri started to say something in response to Kiro, but in the middle of his sentence he got distracted by the beeping of the microwave announcing that his potato was done. He let out a chirp that could've rivalled one of Pax's in his most hyper moment. I heard him scramble to his feet and trot across the room. He got to the microwave before Remi did, and he must have snatched his potato from the oven with his bare hands because the next thing I heard was a yelp of pain and then something hitting the floor.
Kiro sighed. “It
is difficult to believe they let him be in charge of an entire
starship.
“Is
Piri really in charge of your starship?” I asked.
“Not
this time,” Kiro said. “He is
a captain, but I think our government believed it would not be good
for him to be in charge this time. Taro Vik commands this mission.
He is Piri's friend.”
“And
he's okay with you guys being down here for over twenty-four hours?”
“What
is the Earth phrase? We have...checked in. Captain Taro knows we
will come back to the ship tomorrow at this time.”
And
there it was. Just like that, I learned that in twenty-four hours I'd more than likely be saying goodbye to Pax. Would I also be saying it to Sini and my daughters? Michael's advice from that morning echoed in my head: Don't panic.
Yeah. Easier said than done.