by Robin Roseau
"Fine."
The safe opened for me. I stared at the visor for a long time then sat in a chair and slipped it on. It activated immediately. I stared at the menu for a while then requested a video call with Bluebell.
She answered promptly.
"Skye."
"Professor, I would like to know who interfered with the financial aid office at the school."
"I'm afraid I'm not answering that."
"Did someone direct the bank to deny me a loan?"
"I'm not answering that, either."
"So you're kicking me out of school," I said. "One term to go, and I won't be able to graduate."
"You have options, Skye. Come home, and we'll discuss them."
"It's not my home, Professor. Don't you get it?"
"Skye, it will always be your home, even if you aren't ready to accept that."
"So, all my options involve crawling back with my tail between my legs."
"That isn't how I would put it."
"But it's not that inaccurate, is it?"
"Your options, if you wish to graduate, begin with coming home. And then we'll talk about it."
I stared at her image for a while. Without a word, I terminated the phone call. Then, as quickly as I could, before she could interfere, I turned off the visor and took it off. I stared at it, angry beyond belief, but I couldn't bring myself to destroy it.
I wasn't sure she wouldn't make me pay for it.
I returned it to the safe and locked it tight. I then spent a half hour prowling the apartment. Finally I grabbed my backpack, stuffed it full, and hefted it over my shoulder.
As I got to the door, the security panel came alive. "Skye, what are you doing?"
I turned to the panel. "I will not require any further time to vacate the apartment. I have taken everything that belongs to me. Anything still here belongs to your family. Thank you for giving me so much and then yanking it away. I never want to see another alien again."
Then I walked out of the apartment.
New Life
I walked out to the highway and stuck my thumb out. Twenty minutes later, I got my first ride, heading west.
I was lucky. No one who picked me up was a creep. It took two days before I arrived in Detroit. I used a truck stop to clean up and decided staying in Detroit wasn't my best plan. I continued heading west. In Chicago, I decided that still wasn't far enough from Boston, and Madison was filled with college students.
I didn't stop until I reached Minneapolis.
I found a woman's shelter. They didn't have any beds, but they let me shower and change. But I had money, and the woman at the shelter told me I could probably find someone looking for a roommate. "Some of the supermarkets have bulletin boards. You could check."
Maybe I should have stayed in a hotel, but every hotel I'd ever visited asked for ID, and I didn't want to be in any systems. I spent two very cold nights, wandering the streets of the city. A few times I ducked into all-night grocery stores, just to warm up, but I didn't want to press my luck.
It was sixteen grocery stores, seven bulletin boards, and fourteen phone calls from a pay phone before I found a girl who didn't sound like a drug addict and who had "a spare couch".
"Are there bugs?"
"It's not much," she told me. "But it's clean. I'm really careful about leaving food out."
"I'm homeless," I said. "Could I see it right away? The nights are cold. I have cash. Three hundred a month, right?"
"Right. Why are you homeless?"
"I got kicked out of college when my scholarship was cancelled."
"Do you do drugs?"
"No."
"Boyfriends?"
"I'm gay. Is that a problem?"
"Only if you hit on me."
"I broke up with my girlfriend last week. It's complicated. I'm not going to hit on anyone for a very, very long time."
"God, that's rough. I'm sorry."
"Thanks."
"What's your name?"
"Skye," I said. "Yours?"
"Daisy." I managed to not groan. Great. She had a flower name. Just the reminder I needed. "But I go by just Dee."
"Dee, I really need somewhere. I'm clean. I'm quiet. I'm not today, but I'm usually perky. If you'll give me a receipt, I can pay for the first two months in cash."
"Right, right," she said. "I'm at work. I don't normally get home until almost six, but I could run home at lunch, if you're fairly sure you're going to take it."
I started to cry.
"Oh, hey," she said gently.
"If it's clean, and you promise your boyfriend won't touch me, I'll take it, Dee. If you don't mind if I'm going to cry a lot for a few weeks."
"I understand. Do you have something to write with?" She gave me the address. "11:40. Can you find it?"
"I think so," I said.
"If you get lost, call me again."
"I'll find it," I said.
"What do you look like?"
"I'm kind of small, blonde, almost white hair, cut in a bob. I'm carrying a backpack. You can't miss me."
"Right. I'm tall, long, black hair. I'm wearing a navy blue business suit."
"I'll see you there, Dee."
* * * *
I made it to the apartment building by 11:15. It was in a brick building in the Uptown area of Minneapolis, two blocks from the bus line. It was better than we'd had in Cleveland, but not as good as anywhere I'd lived since. However, it had a modern security system, so I hung out in the entryway.
Dee was late, and I wondered if she'd blown me off. But then a woman in a navy blue business suit with long hair appeared on the other side of the glass door. She looked me up and down and asked, "Skye?"
I nodded, and she opened the door. "I'm Dee." She held out her hand, and we shook.
"Thanks for meeting me," I said. "I'm sorry I turned into a basket case on the phone."
"It sounds like you've gotten beat up lately. Come on. It's on the second floor."
We walked up and turned right. A minute later, we came to a door. "It's not much," she said.
"I don't need much."
She opened the door and let me in, following behind me.
It wasn't a dump. It was a cheap apartment, and she had inexpensive furniture. But it was clean and faced away from the street.
There was one bedroom, a bathroom, living room, and kitchen.
"You'd get the couch," she said, pointing. "It's just a couch. But there's a closet there for your things, and I have spare bedding and pillows."
I looked around for a minute, then Dee brought me back to the kitchen. She showed me a few things then said, "We'd figure out about food. It's cheaper for us to share the cooking than to each eat separately. Can you cook?"
"Yeah. My mom taught me." Then I began crying again, turning away from her. "I'm sorry."
She stepped up behind me and set a hand on my shoulder. "Are you always like this?"
"No. I'm sorry."
"The crying is freaking me out a little," she said. "But you need help, and I need money. Let's try it, but just month to month. If it doesn't work out, you agree to go without a fuss. I'll give you a little time to find somewhere else, but that means a few days, not weeks or months."
"Thank you," I said. "I promise, I don't cry all the time." I'd already separated out rent money. I didn't want her to see my entire wad. I pulled it out but then handed her three hundred.
"I'll throw in the last few days of the month," she said. "Otherwise I want to be paid on the first each month."
"Got it," I said. "Thank you."
"Rules. Don't make messes. When you're done eating, you wash up. No dirty dishes and shit like that."
"Right."
"At least for now, no girlfriends over."
"No girlfriends."
"My boyfriend is going to think you're cute. No wandering around the apartment in skimpy clothes. I get tired of hitting him on the top of the head. And don't tell him you're gay or he's going to ask to watch
the two of us. I know, he's a dick sometimes but he's pretty good most of the time."
"He won't touch me?"
"No, but if you give him something to look at, he'll look."
"I won't give him anything to look at."
"He's a dick about the toilet seat, too, but I don't invite him to stay nights very often, so you won't have to deal with it every night or anything. We're kind of casual still."
"All right."
"I'm on a schedule in the morning. If you need the bathroom, you either get out by six or you stay out until I'm out the door. If you get desperate, there's another bathroom in the basement next to the laundry."
"Got it."
"If you're as perky as you say," she added, "don't perk at me in the mornings. My boss is a dick if I'm late."
"I won't interrupt your routine."
She thought for a minute. "The laundry takes quarters. Don't touch mine, but I just bought two rolls and can sell you one for ten bucks."
"Thank you." We handled that exchange before she left.
"Last thing. Don't touch my clothes. I don't share. And I don't hug. Ever."
"That's fine," I said. "I don't think I'm ever hugging anyone ever again."
"Perfect. I have to go." She dug in a drawer and pressed two keys into my hand. "One fits the apartment; one fits the front door. Don't lock yourself out. If you lose one, it's twenty-five bucks to replace it."
"I won't lose it."
She looked me up and down then pulled out her phone and took my picture. "Please don't steal my stuff."
"I won't. Thank you, Dee. I need a waitressing job. Any suggestions?"
She nodded and grabbed a pad of paper and pen. She paused then wrote down several restaurants. "These are all kind of close. I can think of more tonight, and if you don't find anything, I can help you run around this weekend."
"And the grocery store?"
She added that. "It's four blocks," she said.
"I'll make dinner tonight."
"I hate mushrooms or anything spicy."
"Got it."
* * * *
I dug through my clothes. I hung up the ones that were basically clean and stuffed the dirty ones back into the backpack and left it in the closet. I decided I needed to do laundry, but it wasn't as desperate as finding a job.
But I started with a walk to the grocery store. It was five blocks, not four, and I was cold long before I got there. But I put enough food in the cart for a week then realized I was going to have to carry it, so I went around putting half of it back. Then I walked home and warmed up.
I got lucky. I got really lucky. At the third restaurant, I was directed to the manager. He looked me up and down and asked, "Any experience?"
"I worked at a place called Sunset for almost four years," I said. "The customers liked me."
"Did the manager like you?"
"Yeah."
"When can you start?"
"When do you want me?"
"Tonight. I lost three waitresses in the last week. Minimum wage plus whatever tips you make."
I knew about tips, although we didn't do that back home. I nodded, not sure how much I could make, but if it didn't work, I could look for something else.
He looked me up and down again. "The waitresses wear short black skirts and white blouses with a black tie."
"How short?"
"Anywhere above the knee. And no tennis shoes."
"Yes, sir."
"Come back at four. We'll do paperwork then."
* * * *
I called Dee. "I'm sorry. I got a job, but I start this afternoon. I can't cook."
"That's great about the job," she said. "And don't worry about dinner. Where?"
"A place called Dino's."
"Food's good. The manager is an asshole. My boyfriend likes to go."
"And look at the waitresses?"
"Yeah. I wouldn't let on you're gay. You'll get better tips."
"Right. Thanks. I don't know what time I'll be home."
"I'll leave a light on in the kitchen. Try not to make noise."
* * * *
Dino's wasn't a great restaurant. It wasn't as nice as Sunset. But it wasn't bad, either. There was room between the tables, and some of the booths were actually set up for intimate privacy. I thought that was nice.
The other waitresses seemed happy to see me. The front manager took a look at me and said, "You'll do. Any experience?"
"Yeah."
"Can you handle an entire section?"
"I might need help on the computer, but yeah, I can handle a section."
She gave me a tour, explaining the table numbering system and making sure I knew exactly what tables were mine. "I'll keep an eye on you for the first hour."
And so, my new life began.
Catseye
I settled in. I was able to save money each month. It wasn't a lot, but my stash went up, not down.
I thought about opening a bank account, but I didn't want the aliens to be able to track me, so I kept it as cash. I knew I was leaving myself open to theft, but I kept half of it in a money belt that I kept with me at all times. The other half I hid in the closet with my clothes. The best I could tell, Dee never even looked in that closet, and I hoped it would be safe.
Time passed. I returned to my old self, more or less, anyway. Customers at Dino's seemed to like me, and I received my share of tips. Some of the regulars began asking to sit in my section, and I treated them the way I used to treat the customers at Sunset.
Things with Dee were okay, but her boyfriend was a creep, and I didn't like the way he looked at me. So three months after moving to Minneapolis, I told Dee I'd found a new place to live. I thanked her for helping me out when I desperately needed it.
"I didn't think you'd stay forever, but my bank account thanks you for the nine hundred bucks."
I ended up with an efficiency apartment a block from Dino's. It was a dump, but it seemed clean, and that's what mattered. Dee helped me move in and took me to the store to pick up a few things. I bought a blow up air mattress and bedding, and that was to be my only furniture the entire time I lived in that place. Still, the mattress was more comfortable than Dee's couch, so it was a move up in the world.
Once a week or so, I went to the local library to use their computer. I didn't trust Jasmine's computers, so I couldn't email Mom. But I didn't think they had control of the entire human Internet, and I decided I could risk emailing Audra.
She was back at school, but she, like me, refused to have anything to do with the Catseye. I told her, "Don't forward any of my emails to Mom. If you want to forward anything to her, you have to cut and paste."
So we emailed back and forth, but I missed her terribly, and it hurt to be so far from her.
Then, early in April, I received an email.
Posey was parked outside my dorm room when I got back from classes. We talked. I hope that's okay. She asked about you, but I refused to tell her anything.
My reply took time to compose.
Audra, I love you more than anyone on the planet, and I want you to have a good life. If you want to allow them back in your life, that's okay. I just want you to be careful. And happy.
You can tell them I'm alive and I have a job. Please don't tell them any more than that.
And life went on.
* * * *
It was in May when the Catseye stepped into Dino's. Oh, it wasn't anyone I knew. But they were wearing glasses, and I recognized the body language and accent. They were struggling to speak to the hostess.
"Foreigners," said the floor manager, stepping up to me. "They don't speak English."
I sighed. "I speak a couple of languages," I said. "Let me see." She nodded, so I stepped up and then said in careful Catseye, "Are you here to eat?"
They both turned to me, and even without the tentacles visible, I could see they were shocked. One of them began speaking rapid Catseye, but I asked her to slow down. "Yes," she said. "We wish to sample the foo
d."
"I'm going to put them in 17," I said to the hostess. It was our most private booth. "Tell Katy she can take one of my tables." Then I turned to the Catseye. "Please come with me."
I led them through the restaurant and showed them the table. They both sat down in the booth, side-by-side, and I took the seat opposite them. "If you eat here, people are going to notice. Is this a good idea?"
"How do you speak Catseye?"
"That's a long story," I said. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't want to tell you."
"We won't pry," she said. She looked down at my name badge then back up to my eyes. "I am Blossom White. This is my wife, Ladyslipper."
"You have human names but don't speak English?"
"The woman couldn't understand our accent," she said. "Skye. Is that a common name?"
I considered them carefully. "I am being kind to you."
"Of course you are, Skye," said Blossom.
"I do not want any other Catseye to know you have met a woman named Skye. I do not want you to try to find out why I tell you that, either."
"There is a story here, isn't there?"
"I will take very good care of you here," I said. "Will you let me have my secrets?"
"Of course, Skye," she said. "Of course."
"All right. How are you going to eat? You can't exactly whip it out here unless you want to cause an uproar."
"This is a private table," said Ladyslipper. "We will be subtle."
"I'll get you menus and water. Did you want anything different to drink?"
"What do you recommend?"
"You might like the lemonade. Have you ever had it?"
"No."
"I'll bring one glass to try."
"Thank you."
A minute later, the house manager pulled me aside. "You speak their language? What is it?"
"A dialect from Africa. I grew up there. Long story." I pulled away before she could ask more from me.
Blossom and Ladyslipper asked for help ordering. I asked a few questions then made some suggestions. They took their time eating, and I took care of them while also managing my other tables. Finally I brought them the bill.
"Will you sit?"
"Only a minute. I have other tables." But I slid into place. "Did you like the dinner?"
"We did," said Blossom. "Thank you. You made good suggestions. We have heard about tipping, but we do not really understand."