Bati

by Nikki Clarke

  “Mommy!”

  “KJ, oh my god. Are you okay?” I squeeze his arms and legs. I run my hands down his little body, making sure everything is alright. He tolerates my frantic inspection with quiet unease. I know I look crazed.

  “My ball went into the street.” KJ’s chin wobbles as he misinterprets my expression as anger. I’m not angry. I’m terrified.

  “I know, baby. Consider this me yelling at you for following your ball into the street. I don’t know how any times I told you never to do that.”

  He’s fine. I pull him into a hug and squeeze tight. His arms come around my neck.

  “Sorry, mommy.”

  “That’s okay, baby. Go to Auntie Shay. I have to see if my friend is okay.”

  I pass him off to my sister, who’s standing behind me looking about as ready to cry as KJ. Shay loves these Lyqas. It didn’t take much for her to start thinking of them as her own. At the moment, I understand.

  I move next to Kwarq. Bati’s still unconscious, and I want to shake him and make him open those ocean blue eyes for me.

  “Is he okay?”

  I assume because his family isn’t freaking the hell out that he’s not dead. At least I hope he’s not dead. Just the thought makes me queasy.

  “He is okay. He has just been stunned.” Quth, their father, runs his arm over Bati’s back and abdomen then taps a slim metal bracelet at his wrist. A projection of some kind beams a few inches above it. “There is no damage. He will recover, but we should get him inside. People have come out of their homes to observe.”

  I glance around. People are standing on their porches. Of course they are. Black folks aren’t going to miss a chance to see some drama.

  Behind us, my mother tryies to calm my ex-husband’s mother. She was dropping KJ off after he spent the night with her.

  “Did you see that boy run?” There’s no mistaking the shock in her voice.

  “I know, Annette. He’s some kind of track star. Good thing, too.” My mother steers Annette away as the other woman tries to resist.

  “That was not normal!” she protests.

  “Annette, you better get on home and clean those scrapped knees. You’re gonna scar.” My mother gently pushes her off in the direction of her house up the street. Annette stumbles away but continues to look back in confusion.

  “Let’s go on and get this boy inside.” My mother nudges her head in the direction of the gathering crowd of neighbors. Kwarq and Ah’dan lift Bati between them and carry him into the house.

  “You’re sure he’s okay? Why hasn’t he woken up, yet?” I’m dogging their heels. Bati’s mother is right beside me. Her eyes, which are bright and blue like Bati’s, shine with tears. They’re made of the same luminescent fluid that seeped from the wound in Bati’s back.

  “I am not sure, my dahnai. I must examine him further,” Quth returns somewhat impatiently. “He may just be stunned. Sleep is a natural defense of the Lyqa body. Any severe trauma will often result in a resting period to allow for recovery.”

  “He’s in a coma?” My voice rises in panic.

  “It’s not a coma, Tee. Get back. He wouldn’t even be out there if it weren’t for you.”

  I turn to a glaring Amina. I can’t deny that her words sting my already stinging heart. She pushes past me and rushes to open the door to her room. Kwarq and Ah’dan carry Bati in and gently deposit him on the bed.

  Kwarq turns to my sister and frowns. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him look at her with any but complete adoration.

  “We are happy that he was outside. Imagine what would have happened to our dah’san if he had not been. You are too harsh with her.” He looks to me. “It is the pregnancy. Her emotions are unstable. Please forgive her.”

  When he turns a pointed look on Amina, she stares back at him for a second before sighing heavily and walking over to me.

  “Fine! Ma’h qitah, Tee,” she drags out like it’s the last thing she wants to say. She wraps her hands around my waist and squeezes me as best she can with her belly. I can only stare down at her. She looks like she did when we were kids and my mother made her apologize to me. “I shouldn’t have said that to you, blah blah blah.”

  She lets me go and steps away before stabbing her finger at me defiantly.

  “You better be happy he was rescuing K or else I would never talk to you again!” She huffs and storms off. When I turn my confusion on Kwarq, he rolls his eyes.

  “She is doing the most,” he says in his weird Lyqa accent and turns back to his brother.

  Bati’s face is so still against the pillow. I lingered outside the door to my sister’s room like a weirdo until his mother finally came into the hall and told me to come in. I thought she’d be mad at me for treating her son like shit, but she’s been perfectly nice. Just like Bati. Just like this whole Lyqa family. Guilt eats at me. I really am rotten.

  “Is he going to wake up soon?”

  “He will wake when his body has contained the trauma. This is not unexpected,” his father replies gently, but he looks worried. Bati’s mother, too, looks terrified. Her eyes are puffy from crying.

  I can’t stop myself from reaching out a hand to smooth it over his cap of tight red curls. He’s so strange looking, but still so handsome. I’ve spent a lot of time pretending I don’t want to look at him, mostly so he wouldn’t see how much I really want to look at him, but now that I have the chance, I can’t look away.

  All I can think about is how light my heart is when he’s around. Something I was all too happy to ignore earlier today, but now it feels like the most urgent thing in the world. I want to hold him. I want to slide into the bed beside him and rub over all of his smooth, warm skin. I want—him.

  I’m an idiot. My whole life, I’ve been dodging no good ass dudes, and the moment I find someone who looks at me like I’m the best thing since sliced bread, I send him packing back to his planet. What the hell was I thinking?

  I tell myself that when he wakes up, I’m gonna take it back. Maybe seeing where this whole Lyqa lust thing can go isn’t such a bad idea.

  BATI

  I smell Tiani. She’s a light flowery scent that makes my heart thump with excitement. I think for a moment that I may have dreamt her rejection. Perhaps she is here with me now in this too small bed, and everything is as it should be.

  The lingering smell is cut sharply by my mother’s worry. Ah, yes. The boy. The truck. The moment I believed myself to be dying. That wonderful contentment that filled my heart. But I am not dead. The soft sounds of my mother’s weeping tear at my spirit, and I will my eyes to open, so that I may put her mind at ease.

  “I am well, mother.” I say this in Lyqa, and a second later, the sweet cloud of her fragrance, a smell I have found comfort in since the day I was born, surrounds me.

  “Dahni, you nearly killed me.”

  She does not speak in metaphor. As her child, we share the lehti’an. My death would have weakened her spirit. It is not uncommon for Lyqa mothers to follow their dead children if the grief is too intense.

  “I am sorry, mother.” I’m still staring at the dark insides of my lids. I crack my eyes open. Everything above me is obscured by the large mass of my mother’s curling hair. I open my mouth to speak but only end up taking in a mouthful of the soft strands.

  “Lehti, let our son breathe. Choking him to death now that he is conscious will not do any good.”

  My mother raises her head, and her large, blue eyes—eyes like my own—are swollen and red. Behind her, my father brushes at his own eyes before leaning down to place a kiss on my head.

  “I’m glad that you are okay. I don’t think I would have been able to bear it if we lost you.”

  I take hold of his hand and squeeze. “I am well father, do not worry.”

  “You talk funny.”

  I turn my head to the side, and I’m met by the scrunched up face of the boy from the street. Large round eyes framed with tightly curled lashes stare down at me. Something abo
ut them is familiar. His round, brown face is plump the way babies’ faces are. Other than that, he is a scrawny little thing. It is quite adorable.

  He’s holding a small toy vehicle, not unlike the one that nearly took his life, and I’m strangely comforted by the idea that he is shielded from the trauma of his experience by such innocence. I am also overcome by the same sensation of love that I felt outside. It makes me sit up, wincing at the pain in my side, before I reach out to lift him and pull him into my lap.

  I cradle him against my chest, just needing to reassure myself he is unharmed. He holds himself rigidly in my arms, but allows me hold him for a few moments. I’m careful not to squeeze him too tight. He is much smaller than Lyqa children.

  “Why are you hugging me?”

  I pull away, remembering again that such displays of affection are awkward among humans. I set him back from me and rub my hand playfully over his head, the way my father did to me when I was young.

  “I apologize for touching you without your permission, KJ. You scared me very badly outside, and I would know that you are unharmed.”

  “What’s unharmed mean?”

  I chuckle.

  “It means not hurt.”

  “Oh,” he’s turning the car over in his hands, but staring closely at my face. Suddenly, his eyes narrow, and it’s a very familiar gesture. “How do you know my name?”

  “The woman you were with called it out. I am sure you have already been told, but it is always best to allow a toy to come back to you rather than pursue it into oncoming traffic.”

  “Huh?” His mouth turns up in a confused smile, and I find myself smiling back.

  “Do not chase your ball into the street.”

  “Oh, my mommy already yelled at me,” he sighs out in a small voice. I cannot tell his age, but he is very intelligent. I feel a sense of pride in this fact. Although, I don’t know why.

  “Is your mother also unharmed? I saw that she fell.”

  The boy’s face scrunches up again, and I’m once more hit with the sense of familiar. “That was my Grammy Spence. Mommy is downstairs with my aunts, my new uncles, and my other grandma.”

  Ah, of course. I look up to my parents in question and they smile. This is Tiani’s son. I would have realized it, eventually. There is no other reason that my connection to him would be so strong. The same leht that has bound me to his mother has also connected me to him. I hear his little heartbeat. A soft patter beneath mine.

  “Is there damage? Can I stand?” My father, who was once a healer, shakes his head.

  “I have scanned you. There is no internal damage. Some bruising. You are quick, my dahni. I am thankful for that.”

  “Your name is Danny?”

  I turn back to the boy. He moves closer, settling against my arm. He lifts his hand and pokes at my cheek as if trying determine if I am real. I let him.

  “No, dahni means ‘son’.”

  “This is your dad?” He points to my father who smiles warmly.

  “He is.”

  “And that’s your mommy?” He shifts his little finger to my mother, and she smiles widely. I know both of my parents have probably already begun to think of him as their grandchild.

  “She is.”

  He leans away and looks up at me.

  “Do you know my mommy?”

  I smile. “I do.”

  “Are you her friend?”

  I think back to the moment when Tiani told me that we meant nothing to each other, and that slight ache returns to my chest. However, I force my smile to stay in place.

  “I am not a friend of your mother’s, but I am good friends with your Aunt Amina,” I tell him instead. I would not lie. Not even to a child.

  “KJ, where are you?”

  Tiani’s voice carries through the open door a second before she appears there. She looks first at me, and immediately her expression shifts. She smells anxious. I’m struck with the realization that she has most likely been filled with guilt that I was hurt. I don’t like it. She has nothing to be guilty about, and I would get hit by a thousand trucks to ensure the safety of her son.

  KJ jumps and scrambles away, slipping out into the hall. Tiani looks at me for another moment. Her anxiety shifts to something very close to warmth. She appears to want to speak. But, instead, she turns and leaves, closing the door after her.

  It takes me a while to get the strength to rise from the small bed. My brothers burst into the room after Tiani leaves, both awash with relief. My and Kwarq’s twin second hearts trip into rhythm the moment he walks into the door, and his agony washes over me.

  “I am okay. Do not worry.”

  Ah’dan follows him in, making a fuss about me being clumsy before embracing me with a deep sigh. He only stays for a moment then he ushers our parents out, aware that Kwarq and I require a moment alone. The bond between Lyqa twins is almost as strong as the leht.

  “You saved her son,” Kwarq acknowledges when we are alone.

  “It was the leht. I would have tried to save him anyway, but the feeling inside of me, the instinct to protect him was so strong, I felt like it took over. Like I was outside of myself, looking in.”

  My brother nods in understanding. “I know how you describe. So what will you do?” he asks after a moment. I don’t have to question what he means, but I do not know if anything has changed that would allow me to stay. I’m sure Tiani is grateful, but that is not what I want. I want her love. Having met KJ, it is an even more difficult realization that I am not only letting go of a lehti but also of a son.

  “I would not let guilt change her mind. I will still go.”

  Kwarq looks as if this is the response he was expecting. A twinge of sadness rolls off him, and I grip his shoulder in comfort.

  “Do not be sad for me, brother.”

  “I would have you know the contentment of the leht. I would have you feel the love that I have with Amina.”

  “I know, but it is not meant to be. It’s okay. Sometimes it’s this way.” I repeat this to myself as I let him help me stand. Perhaps if I tell myself this enough, it will one day be true.

  Chapter 6

  TIANI

  The moment Bati turns the corner into the living room, I jump to my feet. I’ve been rehearsing what I want to say since I ran out of his room like a coward. Fearful the words will evade me again, I rush to speak.

  “Bati, thank you so mu—“

  I move toward him, but he stops me with a raised hand. It feels like rejection.

  “You do not need to thank me, Tiani. I am only glad that I was here to offer assistance,” he doesn’t look at me. He stares down at my son, who’s playing with a pile of toy cars on the floor. He kneels down and rubs his hand over KJ’s hair, and I have to close my eyes around the pain that surges through me at the thought of what probably would have happened if he hadn’t been there.

  Amina said she never would have talked to me again if something happened to Bati, but I’m sure I never would have talked to myself. I want to hug him. I want to feel for myself that he is okay, but he held his hand up to me. He totally gave me the Lyqa hand.

  “It was nice to meet you, my dahni. Promise me that you will be very careful while playing in the future.” He surprises me by leaning in to press a kiss to the top of KJ’s head. He pulls back to rise, but KJ hops to his feet and hurls himself against Bati, his little arms going around Bati’s neck and squeezing tight.

  “Thanks for not letting me get hit by a car,” KJ mumbles. I’m unsure of what to do. Bati’s eyes flick up to me for a split second, and I think I see sadness there. He wraps his arms around my son in a gentle hug and then eases him away.

  “You are a very clever boy. Be happy and try not to give your mother a hard time.”

  KJ nods and drops back to the ground like this display of closeness with Bati was the most normal thing in the world.

  Bati rises from his knees, grimacing as he straightens his back. He got hit by a truck for my son. He could have died,
and I get the impression he would have been okay with that if it meant KJ was okay. That urge to touch him, to kiss him, is so strong. But he still hasn’t looked at me, and I don’t think that’s by accident.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  It’s such a stupid question. He got hit by a truck. I don’t know Lyqa anatomy, but I imagine that anyone getting hit by a truck wouldn’t be one hundred percent okay. He looks a little worse for wear. His face is drawn as if he’s in pain, and he keeps pressing a hand to his lower back.

  “I am well, Tiani. Do not trouble yourself with concern for me.” He turns away from me to face his family. He’s not so subtly telling me to kick rocks. I can’t blame him.

  “Are we ready to depart?” he asks his brothers, and my chest twinges painfully. I don’t want him to go, but I can’t get my mouth to form the words to ask him to stay. And anyway, what would him staying do? Give me a chance to take back being a jerk to him? Then what? He’ll have to leave eventually.

  “Amina is in the middle of a hunger. As soon as she has had her fill, we will go to the pods. It should not be long. She is nearing her birthing. She is insatiable.”

  Kwarq looks away, and a deep blush pulses his golden skin. Since my sister has been home, she’s basically spent her time shoveling food into her mouth and shoving her tongue down her husband’s throat. Apparently, Lyqa pregnancy makes her hungry and horny. At least she has an excuse. I don’t know what made me act the way I did with Bati. I mean, obviously, he’s fine. It didn’t take much for me to want him. And now he won’t even look at me.

  “I’ll go check if she’s finished,” I mumble and scurry out of the room like the little monster I am.

  “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

  Amina halts the fork holding a large spool of spaghetti at her mouth only long enough to get her words out and then she shovels it in. Her eyes close in satisfaction.