Feel Again
Page 5
He lifted her strange gown off over her head, revealing her bare beauty, then he took off his own garments. She still did not protest. He kissed her again, their forms sliding down against the wall of the prison cell. He went inside of her, and then, something strange happened. Her perfect skin darkened; her hair turned from purple to flaming red.
Samakri was human.
The last thing that Lionel and even Samakri would have expected as an outcome of their encounter was that Samakri would become human. Yes, she was a beautiful human; just as much as she had been a beautiful alien. But, how could she possibly explain what had happened to Blekrin. If he came to know, he would surely kill the both of them, or, at the very least, Lionel. However, as Zebdian Armpha, he would also surely know without being told. So, they devised a plan.
“First,” Samakri told Lionel when she became aware of the situation, “You will return to Earth; no questions asked, and you will do so in secret, lest my father know what is going on.” For the first time since Lionel had met her, Samakri appeared to be feeling true emotion. After all, she was human now; she was different, of course.
“How can I leave you now, Sam?” he asked her, hoping sincerely that they would not be forced to part ways so soon, though a little voice in the back of his head; his conscience, perhaps, was telling him that this just might be the case.
“I do not know,” she said. “I do not know.” Silence. “Then,” she continued, fighting back tears as best as she could, “I will tell Blekrin that I have changed form in order to disguise myself. Hopefully, I will soon be able to join you on your home planet of Earth, though that is not completely certain as we stand here today.”
Lionel was trying to come up with the courage to ask Samakri a question that he had been holding back for quite some time; a question that she would only be able to answer truthfully now that she was human. Yet, for some reason, he was more afraid to ask this question of her than he would have been to ask it to a complete stranger. He wanted to send it to her by way of thought bond, but then he remembered that she could not read his mind anymore.
“Before I go,” he began. “I mean, before you send me back to Earth...”
“Yes?” Sam asked him. “Please continue.
“I would like to ask you a question.”
“Go on,” she said. “Ask me.”
“Do you love me?” Lionel asked Samakri, feeling the words flow from his tongue like a mixture of fire and ice. He would understand if she did not love him back. After all, she had only yesterday been inhuman; frightening.
“I do,” she said.
Lionel prepared himself for the inevitable. Samakri marphed him back to Earth. One minute, they were together; Lionel surrounded by an orb of eerie green light; the next, he was completely alone back on Earth. Back where he had started.
He looked around the room and realized that it was his room, back at Carla’s house. It was the ugly carpets, the ugly wallpaper, the broken furniture and the ghetto peeping from beyond the windows. It was home, and yet it wasn’t really home anymore.
Then, Lionel took a look at himself in his dresser mirror. He looked a little different then he remembered. And then he saw; his blue eyes were turning a strange shade of dark purple, similar to the color of Samakri’s hair. Then he took a good look at his own hair. It was still mostly black, but the roots were growing in neon green.
Lionel was truly afraid now. He walked away from the mirror and stood in the light. His skin had become pale; as white as a blanket of snow studded with pearls where Lionel’s freckles used to be. He was panicking. He knew what was happening to him, but he did not want to think it. His mind had changed too.
He could hear Carla coming home with her kids, and, suddenly, like a flash of lightning had entered Lionel’s mind, he could hear them. He could hear everything. He could hear their thoughts; everything that they had ever said, did, wanted; all rushing through his mind like a tornado through Kansas. And, then, he just knew the truth.
He, Lionel Davidson, was a Zebdian.
He was an alien.
Chapter Ten
No, this can’t be, Lionel thought. This cannot be happening. I can’t be one of them; not after she finally became human. Not when we finally had a chance. Lionel Davidso was perplexed beyond a shadow of a doubt, and he also knew for certain that he was no longer human. Samakri was human. It seemed now as if nothing would allow them to be together.
“Lionel, is that you?” he heard Carla, his foster mother, call out in a tone of both joy and fear, which was, however, somewhat diluted by the cries of her youngest child, a baby girl named Lily or Lana or something of the sort. “Are you home? Where have you been all this time? Are you hurt?” She was knocking on the door now. Perhaps she had cared for Lionel all along. A lump rose in his throat. Had he worried her?
“Yes, it’s me,” he began, hesitant at the thought that she might discover him in his current state. “You can’t come in though; I’m getting dressed.” He figured that Carla might assume that he had company and back off. It worked.
“Well, I don’t want to bother you if you’re, uh, busy in there. I’m going to be heading back out with the kids, so if you don’t mind, it would be nice if you could get dinner started while we’re out.” So long as he could conceal his changing form, he would be all set; eager to help after all of the trouble that he had apparently caused.
Once Carla and her babies were safely driving out of the parking lot, Lionel threw together a mix of chicken, carrots, and potatoes, dumping the concoction into a slow cooker. Then, when he was sure that they had gone far enough, he grabbed a black hoodie and pulled it over himself, grabbing his car keys hastily and exiting the apartment.
Lionel chose a multifunctional tattoo and tanning parlor called “Sun and Sin” a few blocks away from the apartment building where he, Carla, and her kids resided. Nervously, he walked in through the dirty glass door and approached a bald-headed muscle-man in his mid-thirties who stood behind a rusty metal counter lined with displays of gold-plated jewelery.
“How may I help you, kid?” the man asked grudgingly. He seemed none-too-pleased about providing services to a kid who might be underage or looking for trouble.
“I need a medium tan, non-prescription blue contact lenses, and a black dye-job,” Lionel asked him anxiously.
“Gee, kid,” the man started, giving Lionel a once over for the first time, and looking a little spooked, “You say that like you’re making an order at McDonalds.” The guy really did not seem to have any sense of humor whatsoever.
“So, you can help me then?” Lionel asked, wondering if the man was going to turn him down. “Uh...”
“Sure I can,” he said, “As long as you show me an I.D.” Lionel knew that the man wasn’t joking about this and would probably get him into trouble with the law if he didn’t get his card out. Lionel handed the man his battered driver’s licence over the counter, trying not to contaminate himself with rust and germs. “All set to go,” said the man.
Lionel was relieved. An few hours later, freshly tanned, dark-haired, and blue-eyed, at least for the time being, he was on his way back home to Carla’s apartment. As he walked in, the gloominess of the sullen place was lightened by the smell of freshly roasted food. When Carla and her kids walked in just a few short minutes after Lionel got home, he thanked his lucky stars that he did not get caught. If anyone back here on Earth learned a single secret of Zebda, it would surely mean their death. In fact, Lionel was not yet certain that he would remain alive for long after escaping from planet Zebda. Samakri would only be able to keep their secret for so long before Blekrin would wonder what had happened, as he would soon become suspicious of Samakri’s inability to appear alien, or, on Zebda, “normal.”
“Is something bothering you,” Carla asked, sounding more concerned than she normally would have. “You know, you can tell me. You don’t need to keep everything a secret from me all the time. It’s okay to be honest. We’re family.”
That night, Lionel dreamed of Samakri. He dreamed that he was back on planet Zebda. The evil Nelvak was torturing him nearly to death, a Yalmax whip slapping hard agaisnt his bleeding and burning flesh. And, then, he saw her. She was a Zebdian again, with her magenta tresses flowing against her back, down over her full chest and past her tiny waist. Her yellow eyes were glowing with friendliness and human love, which she expressed by pulling her brother off of Lionel. She then smiled at him and took his hand in hers, and they walked out of the Haklar and marphed to Earth where they both became human and lived happily ever after.
Lionel was more than disappointed when he awoke at 3:14 A.M., his muscular body sweating profusely against his plaid flannel bedsheets. It had been only a dream. Lionel sighed. He wanted more than anything to see Samakri again; to be with her again. Just then, one of Carla’s little ones, a boy of three named George, walked into Lionel’s room.
“Li’nel,” he mumbled, toying with his little hands. “I ‘ad a bad dream,” he added, looking wide-eyed and apparently quite frightened.
Yeah, kid, well, join the club, he thought. But that was not what he said to the young child. “What’s the matter, Georgie? What did you dream about?”
“I dreamed that a pretty girl with purple hair came to our house and she took you away from us and brought you somewhere else and me and mommy never saw you ever, ever, again.”
A chill ran up Lionel’s spine. Could the little boy, George, really have dreamed of Samakri as well? Was it possible that they still had a thought bond? Could Sam connect with Lionel while he was still on Earth? He wanted to know. It isn’t possible, though, he thought. Samakri can’t connect with me anymore because she’s human now. But, could Lionel connect with her?
“Li’nel,” the boy said again, sucking his itty-bitty thumb and drenching it in spit. Gross, Lionel thought. “Can you get me somethin’ to eat. I’m h’ngry.”
“Sure,” Lionel replied, although he did not really want to get up for the day just yet. “What do you want me to make you?”
“Pancakes, pwease,” George said, smiling his award-winning and innocent smile up at Lionel.
“Okay, sure thing,” Lionel grumbled. They pattered along into the kitchen, hopefully not waking up Carla or her other children. As Lionel flicked on the lightswitch on the wall adjacent to the refrigerator, George screamed very suddenly.
Lionel turned to face him. “What’s the problem now?” He suddenly felt as though he did not really care if the boy had a problem any longer. Uh, Oh, he thought. I’m losing my emotions like one of them. He turned to face the boy once again.
“You don’t look normal, Li’nel,” he said. You have green hair and purple eyes,” he said, stuttering. “It’s the same c’ler as that girl’s hair,” he added, becoming even more scared than before. “Are you dying?” the boy asked, concerned.
“No,” Lionel replied, realizing in that moment that what was now happening to him was much worse than dying could ever be. He needed to get to Zebda as soon as possible. But, who would get him there. Lionel looked at the boy, his eyes beginning to spin.
“You will not remember any of this,” he said, his voice and spiraled irises entrancing the boy; locking him under his spell. “You will go back to sleep and not ask me for food, or anything else, for that matter, ever again.” Lionel had the boy so entranced that he feared that he might also be under a spell-at his own hand.
Once the boy, George, was safely away from the kitchen, presumably nustled up back in his tiny toddler bed, Lionel charged over to the countertop, where a large yellow phonebook rested on top of a stack of old, assorted newspapers and magazines. He scanned through the pages with lightning speed, until he reached the page he was looking for.
The top margin read, “Psychics.” Lionel was not entirely sure if a psychic could help him locate Samakri. Scanning to the bottom of the page, he spotted an ad that read, “Psychics, Witches, and Healers: Serving All of Your Daily Supernatural Needs.” It was not what Lionel originally had in mind, but it was definitely worth a try.
Lionel dialed the number into Carla’s grimy cordless phone, each button leaving a loud beep in its trail, which was dangerous for Lionel. It could wake up the others. An eerie-sounding voice answered the phone. A woman.
“I’ve been waiting for you to call looking for her. What’s her name again? Samakri?” Lionel was too stunned to speak, but all he could do was reply with a simple “Yes.”
Lionel awaited the mysterious psychic woman in a strange room filled with the smoke of incense and the aroma of herbal tea. Most of the other clients were superstitious old ladies and gothic teenagers with black and red clothing. Many of them looked at Lionel rather suspiciously because he seemed so out of place. It made him feel rather uncomfortable, and his strange appearance must have scared the bejeezes out of most of them, regardless of how badass or old and wise they thought they were.
After about two hours of waiting somewhat impatiently, pacing back and forth in the eerie waiting room, a woman with silver hair and colorful beads around her neck came out from behind a bright blue oriental curtain. She shimmied past a table full of skulls that Lionel sincerely hoped were not real, her long and flowing skirt swishing against the dark wood. She glanced over at Lionel and their eyes met; the woman staring right into Lionel’s. That kind of pissed him off because he now felt the need to reserve eye-gazing for Samakri.
“Lionel,” the strange woman said. “The time has come for us to meet.” Her green eyes glistened with mischief and advendure, perhaps even a tiny hint of danger. Lionel was rather hesitant to go behind the curtain with the woman, but her followed her cautiously, glancing back at the table full of skulls now and then and hoping that his own would not soon join the collection. When he was finally behind the curtain, he never looked back.
“Can I tell you a secret?” the woman asked of Lionel as he sat at a small table, before he even had the chance to ask her anything that he might have wanted to know.
“Sure,” he replied, carefully trying not to offend the woman.
“I am not a real psychic,” she answered quite bluntly, the shimmer leaving her eyes, at least according to Lionel’s perception.
Lionel was confused. “If you’re not a real psychic,” he began, “Then how do you know about Sam? How did you know my name?” He was beginning to wonder if the woman was not even more sinister than she had originally expected. Lionel bit his lip hard, and it started to bleed. He licked the blood off quickly, not wanting the unnamed woman to know that he was nervous to be there with her.
“Ahh,” the woman said, pouring herself a cup of tea and also placing one in front of where Lionel sat, his chair shaking with him. He refused the tea. “Your strange lady friend came to see me a few nights ago. It was the most peculiar thing I’ve ever seen in my life. She looked like one of us, but she claimed to be from a place called Zebda, allegedly another planet. I wouldn’t doubt it, either,” she added, gently sipping at her tea. “She showed up in a cloud of eerie green light and everything. She said that she could not bear to be without you and that her father gave the two of you his blessing.”
Lionel was completely in awe. “Are you sure?” he asked the creepy old lady. “Does she know that I’m an alien now even though she is human?” He was certain that if Samakri and Blekrin did know this, they would no longer approve of such a match.
“I know everything,” a young woman’s voice said. Lionel turned around, not really aware of what-or who-he might expect to see when he did so.
It was Samakri. She was
there. They could be together at last.
Lionel and Samakri walked out of the back entrance hand-in-hand. Then, they jumped into Lionel’s pickup truck.
“Canada here we come,” Lionel said to Sam. His hair was completely green now.
Samakri turned on the radio. Loretta J’s latest hit was playing on full blast.
Sometimes you feel like leaving,
Cause nothing good comes easy;
Sometimes you stop believing,
Cause nothing good comes easy
But good things in life aren’t free,
Cause nothing good comes easy
Life doesn’t always make sense,
That doesn’t mean it’s pretend
Another night without sleep,
But yet you dare to dream;
Another day in the rink,
Fight through the clouds like lightning
When just right isn’t perfect,
Or forever long enough;
Just keep moving forward,
Remember faith, hope, love
And when you feel like leaving,
Remember life’s not easy;
And when you stop believing,
Try to look and see,
That nothing good comes easy.
Lionel and Samakri didn’t know it yet, but Loretta J was very on spot. It wasn’t going to be easy. But it would be worth it.
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