by Zara Zenia
"Abusing your staff?" I spluttered. "You're not being serious."
"I am being very serious. I've seen you here too. You're always lurking down the end of the aisles and you've never once purchased an item at this store."
I eyed him warily.
"I wasn’t aware there was a law that states I have to buy something."
He bristled.
"Is there?" I asked and cocked my head to the side.
I was ready to knock these morons out. Who did they think they were? The book police?
"Is there..." he trailed off, stalling for time.
"Is there a law that states I have to buy this book?"
Something caught my eye and I looked down to see him pressing the button on his radio. Any second now, security was going to be rushing up here and the guard already didn't like me. I didn't like these people anyway, but the store was my main source of information. I couldn't stand to be thrown out and not allowed back in.
"Excuse me?" a soft voice interrupt us.
We all turned to see the redhead peering out from the behind the shelf.
"Stay out of this, madam," the manager said and waved his hand dismissively at her.
For a fleeting second, her eyes met mine and I noticed how truly green they were. She smiled and reached inside her bag. Pulling out fifteen dollars, she thrust it at the manager.
"Here, I'll give you this so you stop bullying this man here."
He took a step back, shocked and looked down at the money.
"I mean it," she said. "You've been real assholes to his guy and he wasn't doing anything wrong."
They both stared at her as though they'd never seen a woman before.
"That means you can leave now," she said and placed a hand on her hip.
They scurried off like school boys, red-faced and humiliated.
She waited until they were out of earshot before saying, "Goddamn jobsworths," she said.
I paused for a minute as I thought about what she said.
"What are jobsworths?" I asked, puzzled.
She smiled.
"You know, people with low-level jobs who think they're super powerful and go around bossing people about."
I thought for a moment.
"I think the security guard downstairs is a, how do you say it, jobsworth?"
She laughed, her voice light and airy like music.
"I think you might be right. Anyway, I'm sorry for butting in like that it's just that those guys really wanted to come down heavy on you. Morons."
"I'm very grateful," I said. "For buying me the book. It was most kind of you." I said in my politest voice while thinking back to the book beside my bed.
She smiled again, this time wider and her eyes seemed to twinkle.
"It was a pleasure," she said. "Consider it be my good deed for the day."
She turned on her heel as though she was about to walk away but before she did, I reached out and touched her arm.
"Come for a coffee?" I asked.
She turned around, startled.
"Coffee?" she asked, a little horrified.
"There's a coffee shop around the corner, right? It's the least I could do after you bought me this," I waved the book appreciatively.
She hesitated for a second, her feet still facing the door as though she was desperate to leave. But there was still that twinkle in her eyes.
"I don't usually... with strangers... I mean..."
"I'm not sexually coming onto you," I said.
She blushed and laughed nervously.
"Just a coffee," I assured her. "To say thank you. If I'm being honest, I'd have to admit that I'm not often in the company of women and I'd like the opportunity to just talk. Especially as you seem to be a book lover yourself."
She pursed her lips and shifted from side to side before relenting.
"Okay," she sighed. "Just a coffee and not for long either."
"It's a deal," I said. "I'm Ethan by the way."
"Demi," she beamed and shook my hand. "Pleased to meet you."
The coffee shop was almost empty and the staff was beginning to wipe down tables and stack chairs as they prepared to close.
Demi and I had talked non-stop since we arrived. She had so much to discuss and seemed to find everything I said interesting. Not to mention we both loved detective books and she had given me the names of some I had to check out. I'd written them in pencil down the margin of The Intention and aimed at saving up for them.
"So, you seriously hitchhiked all over the country," she said, her eyes wide.
"Yep... I've been everywhere. It's a great way to travel. Met so many people, not for long mind you."
I sipped my coffee and licked the foam off my top lip.
"But hitchhiking," she continued, enthralled with the topic, "Isn't it dangerous?"
Dangerous. I chewed the word over in my mind. Orba was dangerous, space was dangerous. Crashing a spaceship onto an alien planet was dangerous. Palzu was dangerous.
"No," I shrugged. "It was fine. Nothing happened."
After the crew was forced to split up in Richmond and flee to safety, I'd hit the road with nothing but the clothes on my back and a couple of books in my bag. Hitchhiking was the only way to get around and I'd wandered the land of America for months seeking safety before eventually landing in Washington.
"So, tell me about yourself?" I asked, eager to change the subject. "Have you traveled much?"
She nodded.
"I've been to the usual, nowhere crazy. Someday I'd like to visit Europe, though, maybe even Asia."
"I've heard of those places," I said and she gave me a strange look.
"Where are you from?" she suddenly asked. "I detected an accent earlier but I can't quite place it."
Oh crap... What do I tell her?
"South American!" I blurted out. "I come from South America."
"Oh! Whereabouts?"
I cast my mind back to the map I kept folded up in my backpack. I vaguely remembered seeing a place that began with a B.
"Brozeel..." I said, the word trailing off at the end.
"Brazil?" she offered.
"Yes!"
"And your name is Ethan," she mused. "It's quite an American name."
She was onto me. There was no way she could have guessed I was an alien but she knew something wasn’t quite right.
"It's been really, really nice meeting you. You've really made my day," I said, desperate to avert her suspicion.
She blushed and looked out the window.
"I'm happy to have met you too. I've never known someone to be such a detective novel lover. Most people just think I'm weird and morbid."
"Believe me, out of the two of us, you’re not the weird one.”
She giggled and held her hand to her face as she blushed. She looked so beautiful when she was embarrassed and I had the strongest urge to lean across the table and put an arm around her, but I didn't dare.
"I've got to tell you something," she said as she reached for her coat.
The staff was watching us impatiently, eager to finish their shift and get home.
"I don't normally follow strangers to coffee shops. In fact, this is going to sound quite sad but I don't really go anywhere with anyone."
I understood and her honesty only made her more beautiful.
"Me, neither," I confessed. "Since it's my turn to be honest, I have to say that I don't usually go around ask girls out for coffee. In fact, you're the first."
There was that flush of color across her cheeks again.
"Well, I feel rather special," she smiled as she slung her bag over her shoulder.
As we stepped outside, I knew this was the moment I had to say goodbye. Even though I didn't want to, and by the looks of it, neither did she.
We stood for a few seconds just dithering in the street.
"I'm walking that way," I said and pointed in the direction of the Ligotti.
"I'm going that way," she pointed in the opposite dire
ction.
"So, I guess this is goodbye."
We stared into each other's eyes and I knew that if I didn't take my chance now, she'd be lost forever.
"You wanna meet up again?" I asked, expecting her to turn up her nose and say no.
"Sure!" she beamed. "Here, I'll write down my number in this."
She took the book from under my arm and scribbled her name beside the long list of detective novels.
"Next time we meet, I'll bring you some books," she said.
"I'd love that."
She stepped away and waved, then changed her mind and jumped up and gave me a big, friendly hug.
"Thanks for the coffee," she said as she let go.
Dumbstruck by her touch, I just watched silently as she left, her figure shrinking into the distance.
Chapter 2
Demi
I stepped on the bus home and took a seat at the back beside a woman clutching a pile of shopping bags. As I looked closer, I noticed they were filled with trash.
Weird... I thought. There was no end to the strangeness to be found on public transport.
Still, I quickly forgot about her and looked out the window as my stomach fluttered. Ethan, he was so gorgeous and smart. Funny too. He was also incredibly strange.
Not to mention I'd gone to meet him alone and not told anyone. That was a first time for me. I never went anywhere with anyone, let alone a boy. A boy I'd just met!
My mom would be freaking out if I told her, but how could I possibly explain that he had the kindest eyes and the softest, most polite voice. He had impeccable manners and seemed genuinely interested in me. He was also strong and handsome with piercing blue eyes and chiseled, tanned features. He was tall as well and I thought back to just a few minutes earlier when I'd said goodbye and reached up to hug his broad shoulders. I couldn't believe I did that and cringed at the memory. I never touched anyone and couldn't remember the last time I hugged a guy that wasn't my dad.
Still, as I watched the city pass by the window, I thought about how strange he was. There was something truly odd about him but I couldn't quite identify it. His accent was peculiar and his mannerisms were a little practiced, like he had to conscientiously try to look normal. But maybe I was just being paranoid. It was like me to always overthink things.
It was great to meet someone who loved books as much as I did and detective stories were his favorite too! I'd almost exploded when he said he always slept next to a copy of L.A. Confidential. I'd be lying if I said I didn't have a copy of that in my bedroom too. It sat on the bookshelf at the foot of the bed with its pages torn at the edges and the spine bent out of shape.
I couldn't stop the butterflies when I thought about Ethan. Actually, I couldn't think about much else. There was something so kind about him, so safe. The second I saw him in the bookstore, he'd caught my attention and when he got into the argument with the manager, I knew I had to step in. He may have been strong and willing to stand his ground but there was a vulnerability about him too. Something told me he needed help and his inability to buy the book and the holes in his clothes told me he didn't have a lot of money. Buying me coffee must have been a real expense to him.
But most importantly, he listened to everything I said with close attention as though he was enraptured by everything I said. Even when I told him that I wanted to write a book of my own someday, he had smiled and said, "Go for it!"
When I'd told my mom, I wanted to do the same thing she'd rolled her eyes at me and snarled: "You ain't gonna find a husband in the pages of no novel."
A smile twitched on my lips as I remembered what Ethan said about authors. Human authors, he called them. Not just authors.
Human authors, I laughed inwardly at the way he said it as though somehow there were cat and dog writers too. I wondered what he meant by that. Maybe it was just a Brazilian turn of phrase.
Beside me, the woman with the trash elbowed me in the ribs as she stood up at her stop.
"Goddamn crazy woman," she said and shook her head. "Laughin' in yo sleep like a freakin' lunatic."
It was then that I noticed I had been laughing to myself with my eyes closed. Luckily, no one else seemed to notice and merely regarded trash bag lady with a look of indifference as she stepped off the bus.
As we turned the corner onto my street, I thought about the book I bought him and how I'd scribbled my phone number on the first page.
The Intention. It was another piece of the mystery. Why was he reading something so esoteric?
I pressed the buzzer on the side of the seat and the bus screeched to a halt.
Why did I have to leave him so soon?
I was suddenly full of regrets. I should have asked for his number. What if he didn't call me? I should have suggested we go hang out someplace else. Maybe grab a beer and chat some more. But I was too worried about getting home.
Good one, Demi. You always have to make sure you're home for bedtime.
As I rummaged through my bag for my keys, I noticed the butterflies were still rampaging their way around in my stomach. Ethan really had a hold on me and I couldn't explain why.
I couldn't think of anything else, not even for a second. It was as though he had cast a spell on me. But why? he certainly wasn't my usual type. Normally, I liked boys who were shy like me, but Ethan was strong and confident with model-like looks, the kind of man I'd run away from.
There were so many unanswered questions too. Why had he hitched across the country? He didn't seem to want to offer up an explanation for his nomadic lifestyle. When I asked where he lived, he simply said: "On the edge of town."
I couldn't shake the feeling he had a mysterious backstory. But I couldn't focus on it for long. My heart felt like it was doing somersaults and I pushed the key in the door hoping he'd call me soon.
“Human authors,” I said to myself and laughed again.
Chapter 3
Ethazol
When she told me L.A. Confidential was her favorite book, I nearly exploded. Watching her sit across from me, her eyes shining and her smile wide, I felt as though I was in the presence of someone special. Not that she knew that about herself. I got the distinct impression she was shy and reserved. I couldn't help but think she didn't see herself the way other people did. Maybe if she realized how beautiful she was, she wouldn't have spoken to me though.
I lay on my bed and looked up to the ceiling, the shapes from the headlights outside casting abstract shapes across the cracked plaster. Somewhere down the street, a woman yelled then there was the sound of crying, a car door slamming, a siren echoing in the distance.
Usually, I'd be worried about the commotion, but right now my mind was only on Demi. Despite the noise outside, I smiled at the memory of her laugh. On the bedside table lay The Intention and I rolled over to pick it up.
Flipping it open, I looked at her phone number that was written in her precise handwriting. Not many people would have noticed its neatness but I did. It was the little things like that that impressed me. It showed she had high standards and the patience to learn to do things properly.
She told me she'd want to write her own book one day and I had no doubts she could. She seemed to know everything about every detective author and had memorized chunks of Raymond Chandler's work by heart. And her impersonations of the characters were outstanding, maybe even a little too good. The way she could clip her accent and pretend to be someone she wasn't, was as unsettling as it was impressive.
Outside, the sirens grew louder and a car screeched down the street. It looked as though it was going to be another sleepless night. The clock on the wall said it was almost two in the morning but I wasn't tired. Unlike humans, Orbans didn't need eight to ten hours a night and the Earthen people's inability to stay awake that long infuriated me. It showed just how primitive they could be at times. It frequently made me laugh that as soon as the sun set, they felt biologically obliged to close their eyes and render themselves unconscious until it returned. Well, most
of them did. The people in the Ligotti seemed to never sleep and became even more awake at night as though the moon aroused them into a fugue state.
Looking back at the book, I waited until the noise in the street subsided until I flipped the page to chapter one.
DEFINE YOUR GOALS AND MAKE IT HAPPEN
I thought about what my goals were. There were almost too many to think of but at the moment, my main one was to see Demi again. Picking up my splintered pencil with the bite marks on the end, I chewed it for a moment as I thought about what to write.
The page was split into two with blank lines where I had to write my goals. I tapped the pencil against my bottom lip and frowned.
Number 1 - See Demi again.
Number 2 - Find somewhere to settle down (Earth?)
Number 3 - Get out of this rotten hotel...
Now all I had to do was make it happen, but how could I do that? I ran my eyes over Number 1 repeatedly until the words meant nothing and the letters were just squiggles on the page.
"See Demi again. Make it happen..."
Then I looked down to number 2. Could I really settle here? If I were to make a home for myself and find somewhere nice to live with a nice girl like Demi then it was certainly possible.
Still, at the back of my mind was the thought that Palzu would be coming to find me any day now. I wasn't afraid of fighting him. Fighting was what I did; it was what I was trained to do since childhood. My biggest fear was that one of the crew would be hurt. And what if I got too close to Demi and Palzu went after her?
My stomach lurched at the thought but I reined in my panic. I'd only known her a few hours and here I was telling myself we were going to be a "thing" maybe. But I wanted there to be something between is, didn't I?
I looked at my goals again.
"See Demi again. Make it happen."
I certainly wasn't going to see her again if I didn't try to call her.
My heart began to race at the thought of hearing her voice. Pulling out my phone from my pocket, I lingered with sweaty fingers over the keypad. She'll be asleep, I thought. I knew I shouldn't be waking her up at this time of night but at the same time, I couldn't stop the tidal wave of excitement that was winding its way through my gut.