Where'd You Park Your Spaceship?, page 29
Did you know this? That there’s a long history of rosemary
being good for memory?
I picture my mother and I in our garden.
With that bread between us.
Heen, you with me?
I nod. More than you know, I think.
She says softly Maybe the bread is helping them remember
why they loved each other in the first place.
I nod again.
*
I round the bend and into the clearing.
I’m mobbed by the kids.
They climb on me. They poke me in the ears. They run
their sticky fingers through my hair.
I love it.
HEEN HEEN HEEN they say over and over.
Nooji wants to show me how he painted the wall of his room.
Splasha is wearing a crown made of bark and wants me
to come to her atelier-I love that she uses that word-so
that I can be fitted for my crown.
Florent wants to show me a new zip line they’ve built that
lands in the pond.
I had wondered if they’ve even remembered me from my
convalescence in their midst.
They have.
Ziga Mey is already here. She hugs me. I feel her fingers
on the back of my jacket. She turns me around.
WOW HEEN! You are killing it in this jacket!
Borns emerges from the kitchen.
A living LIGHTNING BOLT!
He embraces me.
The fact that you have chosen to wear a new jacket for
this occasion only adds to the momentous nature of our
feast!
Peeble comes out of the kitchen.
HEEN, our guest of honor.
I’ve never been a guest of honor.
I imagine you’re ready to get that wire off…
I give the double thumbs up.
Lan Zing and Bobby Freelance arrive.
Hugs all around.
Splasha puts a tape measure around my head.
Peeble motions to her daughter Sufy. Will you please bring me my kit?
Her kids help her do medical things? Peeble leads me to a chair by the fire. She’s got a light set up on a stand. Florent sits next to me and says I haven’t seen her do one of these before.
Borns carries a tray of drinks around. He holds up his glass for a toast. Each of the kids has a glass. Clearly they do this all the time. Lines appears. We fist bump. I melt. I imagine we’ll always be connected. I glance in the direction he came from.
There are building supplies scattered about.
Borns catches my glance.
Heen, Lines will want to show you what he’s been working
on later…
I make eye contact with Lan Zing.
She smiles. At me. And Borns.
Peeble is ready to go. Borns, finish your toast so I can
do some work here.
Borns loves this. Yes my Peeble. A toast to all of my
favorite humans in the same place at the same time!
Favorite humans.
I lean back in the chair.
Peeble gives instructions to various kids who hold towels
and clippers and trays-
The first wire is removed.
I feel the eyes on me.
This is the sort of thing that happens in a THRIVAL, not a
dinner party. In the world I grew up in there were lines that
demarcated WHAT goes on WHERE. A THRIVAL GUIDE,
doing an outpatient procedure like this, at home, in front
of a fire, after the toast, before a dinner party, with the
guests watching?
I am a long, long way from where I came from.
Peeble keeps telling me to hold my head still. I look around at these people who have become my world. Their aches and pains and loves and longings. I went from flying around the galaxies to a very small world in a very short time. Something about this chair and having to stay still and all of them surrounding me breaks something open in me.
Something new.
The thought arrives:
I could do this.
I could live this life.
I could make this my world.
It hasn’t occurred to me until now.
For these people, this is their world.
Why couldn’t it be mine?
I have been leaving for so long I stopped ever considering
staying.
It simply never crosses my mind.
Until now.
I’m sorry, Heen, did I cut you? Where does it hurt?
Peeble is apologizing.
For what?
I look at her like I don’t know what she’s referring to.
Nothing hurts.
You have tears streaming down your face she tells me.
Apparently I do.
From that thought.
That possibility.
There she says. That should do it.
She closes up her kit.
I move my jaw just a touch.
No more wires.
I open it a little.
I feel my tongue touch the back of my teeth.
It’s tender. But almost healed.
The kids come in close.
Splasha puts a crown of bark on my head.
Sufy sits on the arm of the chair.
Lines has this expectant look on his face.
Borns laughs. This is the big moment we’ve been
discussing for days. What word will Heen say first?
Nooji is so excited. We’ve been placing bets.
Bobby Freelance loves this. What are the favorites? I
might want to get in on that…
Ziga Mey lets out a squeak. The anticipation is killing me!
Right! He’s had weeks to think about it…
Lan Zing leans in as she says this.
I have avoided being seen for a long, long time.
But now these eyes, watching me.
They see me.
I open my mouth.
Piddle, piddle, piddle.
PART 4 I BET YOU HAVE A GUN
I float home from Borns and Peeble’s place.
What a meal.
We sat around that table for hours.
Lan Zing. Lines. Ziga Mey. The other kids coming and going.
I loved it.
A thought appears somewhere near the top of my heart.
I’m happy.
I stop in the middle of the trail.
Happy.
I have not used that word, or felt that word, or thought that word since before I lost her all those laps ago-
People like me-happy passed us by.
I follow the path through the CENTER. Around the edge of the park, past the school, up the stairs behind those square green and blue houses, down the hill near the pitch.
It’s late and it’s dark and I’m a little buzzed from Borns serving all those drinks-what did he call his secret potion? A Hoo Hah? I drank a lot of Hoo Hahs tonight.
It all feels backlit with magic.
And I don’t even talk like that.
Firdus.
What is it about this planet?
And these people?
Because I have been to a lot of planets. And met a lot of people.
I land. I do the job. I go back to my ship. On to the next planet. How many has it been?
137? 138?
138 jobs?
138 planets.
And then this one.
Firdus.
Different than all the others.
It’s more…look at me, trying to name it…more alive?
I’m still wearing the crown Splasha made me. It fits perfectly
-as perfectly as a crown made of bark and twigs and leaves can fit.
It’s quiet.
The sound of my feet on the path.
Gravity doesn’t have the same hold it usually does.
Bits of the evening keep coming back to me. What Peeble
said about how people heal. Lines showing me the house
he’s building. Me agreeing to come back later in the week
and help him. Lan Zing telling the story about the man
with the zipper shirt and the white dog and me being slow
and BARBARA BARABAR wanting another loaf-I see their
faces, lit by those candles on the table, reflections
shimmering off the wine glasses, the SUNS as they set
over the hill.
I climb the stairs.
I enter my flat.
I hang my new jacket on the hook by the door.
I brush my teeth.
Sufy ate something sticky and then grabbed my ears. I
wash whatever that is off.
I’m so tired, but it’s good tired. Satisfied tired. At-peace
tired.
A few days ago I was wiping down the tables just before closing. I overheard two women at the counter talking. One was raving to the other about how she’s been sleeping naked recently and it’s so much better.
I should try that.
The bedroom is dark. I take off my crown and place it
carefully on the end table. I leave my clothes in a pile on
the floor and climb into bed. I am going to be asleep so fast.
Click.
The floor lamp in the corner switches on.
I sit up.
There’s a chair next to the light.
There’s someone in the chair.
A woman.
She’s got her hand on the little wooden ball at the end of
the chain that turns the light on and off.
She’s wearing my new jacket.
How did she get it on…while I was brushing my teeth? How
did I not hear that?
There is a silence between us that is it’s own kind of
noise. So quiet it’s loud.
She looks about my age. Half her face is shadowed. She’s
wearing black pants. With pockets on the sides. Under
my jacket her shirt is white, with a V neck. Her legs are
crossed. Her shoes are silver. They’re more like boots,
with zippers going up the back of the heel.
And her expression. Blank, but intense.
Our eyes are locked in. Mine straight at hers. She doesn’t
flinch. Or say anything.
Her hair is black. Jet black. The color and shine-of-a-crow
black. She’s wearing a silver head band that makes her
hair stick up and back on top. There are tiny little stars on
her head band that glow in the light of the lamp.
I notice myself noticing.
I’m terrified.
I’m conscious of this.
The noticing keeps the terror at bay.
I’m going to need to say something.
Someone is.
I sense she’s in no rush.
I open my mouth.
Which is still sore.
I flinch.
My tongue is so tender. I feel the ridge where it’s been
healing back together.
I go full Captain Obvious on her.You’re wearing my jacket.
I am. Her voice is unexpectedly deep. And gravelly. Is that a
word? Scratchy.
She doesn’t move a muscle.
Not even a slight twitch.
And you’re in my flat. I try to infuse my words with as much gravitas as I can but they come out limp. Flat.
She lets go of the light switch and sets her elbow on the
armrest.
I am. She is perfectly calm.
I point at her. And you’re in my room.
She laughs. It’s a throaty laugh, explosive. Her whole body
lurches forward. She sits back in the chair.
Wow. You’re really good. You don’t miss a thing, do you?
She’s mocking me.
I mean, YOU ARE a SERIES 5 and YOU DO have a
reputation for being one of the best. I suspected I’d see
some serious game but what you just did there, noticing
that I’m wearing your special new jacket and I’m in your
flat-you ARE impressive. To see greatness up close like
this? WHAT AN HONOR. Anything else significant you’ve
noticed? What are you going to tell me next-that you
noticed my pants have pockets on the sides?
I pull the sheets a little higher on my body.
I feel very vulnerable.
I slide my pillow up and lean back against the wall.
Her eyebrows raise. You always sleep naked?
I sigh. No. This is the first time. Ever.
It feels good to tell her the truth.
She nods. Half the job is timing, right? Isn’t that what they
taught us?
I do a Dill Tudd head tilt.
Huh?
I know that Huh? never makes a person sound very
intelligent, but her talking about timing and me being
naked under these covers-
Who are you?
She wags her finger with disapproval. Not an interesting question right now. WHO ARE YOU? That’s the question.
I point at her. Again. You’re the one sitting in my-
She cuts me off. Oh please. Is there anything more precious than a SERIES 5 growing some feelings?
I am becoming increasingly alarmed with how much she knows about me. How do you-
She laughs. And that meal tonight-you in your sweet little fairy crown toasting with your new friends-whose heart doesn’t warm at the sight of that?
You were watching me?-
And you and Fozzy the other day and that lovely little sweaty hug after the game like you’re going to be teammates for laps to come because YOU ARE JUST ONE OF THE THEM AREN’T YOU!!!???
I pound my palms on the bed.
STOP! You don’t get to just appear in my room in the dark
late at night and go on like this, you don’t realize-
Realize what? How special Firdus is? How YOU JUST
DON’T UNDERSTAND, it’s not like the other planets!
These people here, they’re different. They-
I yell. They are!
I repeat it for effect.
They are. This is…I am-whatever you’re going to accuse
me of next or mock me for or however you’re going to
show me you know what my life is like here…YES. And
YES. Heat at the back of my neck. YES. It’s true. So I don’t know who you are or how you got in my flat or how you know what you know about me-
She holds up her hand. That part’s easy.
I sometimes feel like my whole life I’m a half step behind.
What part’s easy?
Explaining. Me. What I’m doing here.
Finally, some answers. Good, feel free to proceed.
She stands up and leans against the wall. I’m a SIGN 7.
That sounds familiar and unfamiliar. A cold and distant
knowing creeps in.
A SIGN 7?
Yes. You’re a SERIES 5. I’m a SIGN 7.
She thinks that clears things up?
I have no idea what that is-
You’re a SERIES 5. You get sent on jobs. Same with me.
They give me a job. I go there and I do the job.
I stop her.
They?
You know.
A connection between us. Not hostile.
You got sent to Firdus to do a job. What’s the job?
She sits down on the bed.
You, Heen Gru-Bares, YOU are the job.
She says this softly and slowly. Which makes it infinitely
more devastating. If I wasn’t frightened more than perhaps I have ever been in my entire life I would be giving way more energy to noticing right now that she possesses an elegance and beauty violently at odds with her ruthless exterior.
I’m the job.
I speak it half like it’s a question, half like it’s the answer to
that question.
Yes. You.
Silence between us.
But first, I need a little more time and you need some
sleep.
I roll my eyes and throw my hands up in the air.
Like I’m going to sleep after this…
I say it with way more drama than it deserves. As I set my
hands down on my lap I notice how heavy they feel. Now
my elbows. I become aware of the effort it’s taking to
keep my head leaning back against the wall. She gazes
expectantly at me.
I become very suspicious.
Wait…
It takes way too much effort to say that.
Is it my jaw still getting used to working again?
No.
Nothing to do with my jaw.
I am slipping.
Did you do something to make me feel like this…?
The last few words of the question slur.
How did you-
She glances towards the bathroom.
You brush your teeth every night before bed, don’t you?
I do…
Did you check tonight to make sure no one sprinkled a
little concentrated melatonin on your toothbrush to help
you fall asleep? Probably not-who would think to do that?
It would take way too much energy to reply. She places
her hand gently under the back of my head, adjusting my
pillow, helping me lie down.
Are you tucking me in?
She pulls the covers up.
I am tucking you in. Sleep well, Heen Gru-Bares.
As I drift away I ask her Why are you here? What is happening?
I hear her whispered reply There are, of course, answers to your questions…
And then she’s gone.
I hear the front door close.
I’m out.
*
I’m late for work.
I am never late for work.
The SUNS are almost up.
I start running.
I’m going to arrive all sweaty.
I walk.
How embarrassing.
Arriving late.
I will skip my front door Borns impersonation.
I go around back.
I slink into the storage room where my apron is.
Heen?
Ziga Mey calls me.
