Centauri Serenade

by Theresa Jenner Garrido

  When Annie at last lowered her arms and opened her eyes, she felt exhilarated—beyond the mortal confines of self. Her lips unfurled and her smile radiated to the far corners of the hall while the Ahrmoirans stood as one and clapped. The applause was so thunderous that it rattled framed pictures hanging on the wall.

  Then Ahrn Klih stepped up to the front of the room—his violin under one arm—and smiled down at the Earth girl. The audience resumed their seats. Ahrn bowed his head for a moment, and then, with a simple nod, coaxed a tune from his instrument that both intrigued and captivated Annie. After listening for a few minutes, she joined in. The two instruments, symphonizing in dulcet tones of sheer perfection, elevated to the Great Beyond and ensnared the souls of all those present.

  The man from Ahrmoira and the girl from Earth played their violins—improvising through piece after piece, tune after tune, melody after melody. When they at last put down their instruments, the group again exploded in energetic applause.

  What happened after that became a blur in Annie’s mind. She felt arms hugging her, hands patting her shoulders, voices speaking words of praise and adulation. Weak and light-headed, she allowed Craddohk and Aeldorah to lead her from the hall, down the corridor, and into the fresh sweet air outside. Ahrn, Khari, and half a dozen others followed to say good-bye and to thank her for the recital.

  “Thank you, Annie,” Ahrn’s voice was sincere. “I cannot tell you how much that meant to me. I will treasure the experience for as long as I live.”

  “Yes, Annie, it was truly marvelous,” Khari added. “Please come back before you leave us. We would love to hear you play again—one more time, at least.”

  Annie smiled and nodded, but was too overcome to say more than “Thank you. Thank you.” She climbed into the hoverlight, tucking the precious violin under her feet, then leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes. She sighed.

  Haelee took her hand and squeezed. “You were wonderful, Annie,” she whispered.

  Squeezing back, Annie nodded and mouthed her thanks. She was too exhausted to say anything else.

  NINETEEN

  When Annie opened her eyes the next morning, she was surprised to find it dark in her room. Leaping from the bed, she hurried over to the round window and peered out. The lavender sky was a dark purple—the darkest she’d ever seen it—darker, even than the swelling sea. A strong wind made the pahjah trees bend and writhe as though in agony. She watched in breathless fascination as they turned and twisted, trying desperately to free themselves from a giant’s fist.

  Her first storm on the planet Ahrmoira.

  Annie washed and dressed quickly then went in search of the others. She found them in the living room, huddled by a window, talking in low tones. Aeldorah beckoned Annie over as soon as she saw her.

  “What is it?” Annie asked. “Is it a storm? Are they very bad here?”

  “Yes. Immensely so.” Halig blurted out before his father could stop him.

  “No,” Craddohk contradicted, shooting a warning look at his son. “They can be quite fierce, but there is nothing to worry about,” he hastened to reassure his guest.

  “I’m not that much of a wimp,” Annie blurted. “You can be honest with me. I won’t get all hysterical on you or anything. On Earth we have terrific storms, too. Like hurricanes and tornadoes and typhoons, so I know what can happen. I can take it.”

  Craddohk smiled at her. “We know that you are not a—‘wimp’ did you say? I do not know this term, but it is obvious from the context that it is negative. I appreciate your inner fortitude, Annie. I just do not want you to be unduly frightened or worried about something you have never experienced before. That is all.”

  “So, you’re saying that these storms can be pretty bad, huh?” Annie pressed.

  Craddohk hesitated for a moment and then nodded. “Yes, I am afraid they can be quite bad. Especially at this time of year.”

  At Annie’s puckered forehead, Aeldorah explained further. “You see, Annie, this is very near the time of Ehsbahtah, when all three moons are at their fullest. The pull on the tides is much greater, and if we were to have a storm during this time, its strength…well, let us just say, its strength would be immeasurable.”

  “Yeah, okay…I understand,” Annie murmured as she pressed her face to the window to absorb the scene. The trees were doing a frenzied dance, and the heaving, rolling sea gave Annie a horrific metal picture of monster tongues greedily licking the house. She didn’t want to admit it or let the Draehls see, after her bravado, but Annie was terrified. The ocean looked as though it would devour the house, whole—with everything and everyone in it.

  “This would be a good time for hahlmahnahtah,” Craddohk said, clapping his hands once. “Everyone, fetch your instruments and we will begin.”

  They scurried to the far ends of the house in search of their instruments. Annie was the first one back to the living room with the violin. But, instead of tuning it and getting ready, she walked over to the large window and stared at the wahshhahi as it salivated hungrily on the shore. She wondered why the Draehls were not more excited or worried or agitated. To ignore the growing storm outside and play music seemed impossible. How could she concentrate on notes and position knowing that just beyond the glass, a ravenous and ferocious monster could swallow her at any moment?

  The others joined her in the living room and quickly set up. Aeldorah began blowing across a hole in the side of her chahl. The cloudy sound was fluid and flowed over them like smoke. Soon Craddohk’s and Halig’s zherns blended with her flute-like instrument. Haelee’s long fingers caressed the strings of her muhlahtahtoh, alluring them into submission.

  Their music was so beautiful, Annie would’ve preferred just listening; but she knew they wanted her to be a part of this prayer session. She raised the violin to her chin and passed the bow over the four strings. With just a few strokes, she added something tender yet dramatic to the music already filling their souls.

  When a sudden sucking sound descended upon them, Annie stopped playing and looked up in panic. Out the large, round window, she saw with horror that the sea was past the beach and at the house—as though determined to taste what was locked inside. Annie dropped the violin and bow and threw her hands up to her face. She didn’t make a sound, but was unable to control her shaking.

  A heartbeat later, Aeldorah had her in a tight embrace. “Annie,” the woman whispered in a soothing voice. “Annie, it will be all right…the Infinite One is in control of the sea, the sky…and us…hosh, hosh, Little One…”

  Annie looked into the woman’s serene face and grimaced. “H-how do you know that? How can you be so sure? I-I’m not sure I even b-believe in the ‘Infinite One’ as you call Him…or her…or it…” She shuddered. “I stopped believing in God a long time ago.”

  Aeldorah didn’t scold or appear shocked. She only smoothed the damp tendrils of hair away from Annie’s face. “Hosh, hosh…”

  Annie let go of her fear and relaxed. It was so comforting to be held like this; so warm and safe. She wished her own mother were like this strange woman. As kind and loving as Mrs. Pratt was, she’d never quite filled the emptiness inside her. If she had a mother like Aeldorah, Annie was convinced she could’ve been a star student—top of her class. With that kind of encouragement, she would’ve sailed through her adolescence like a windjammer on a mistral wind.

  She squinted up at the woman, sighed then groaned. “I’m so embarrassed. I always end up acting like a wimp, don’t I? You must think I’m a major loser.”

  Aeldorah laughed quietly. “A…wimp? You used that word earlier, but I do not know its meaning.”

  Annie made another face. “Yeah…it is a dumb word, isn’t it. A wimp is a, well, a really scared and dumb person. You know, weak and afraid all the time.”

  “I see. Well, then I can tell you that you are definitely not a wimp,” she said firmly but with a twinkle in her dark green eyes. “Nor are you a—what did you say? —A loser?” At An
nie’s nod the woman laughed. “Oh, my, no. You are certainly not a ‘loser’, and I never want to hear that word used in my house again. Do I have your promise?”

  Annie nodded. The fear melted from her like frost off a sun-warmed roof. She pushed away from Aeldorah’s arms, picked up the violin, and grinned at the Draehls. Then she played her heart out.

  The storm finally exhausted itself, limping away like a wounded animal. The house still stood, the roof intact, and the family was drained from the strain of the past several hours. The storm had devoured the greater part of the day, and they had skipped both breakfast and the mid-day meal. When Aeldorah suggested they have something to eat, Halig cheered.

  “I think we should do more than just eat,” Craddohk informed the group in an authoritative tone of voice. “I think this would be a good time for,” he paused dramatically, “a fleadhah—a party. Yes?”

  “Yes,” they chorused.

  “And let’s get out the chee board.” Halig whooped. “I will challenge you to a game, Annie, and I will win.”

  “Okay. I never heard of chee, but I’m going to beat you anyway.” Annie chortled back.

  In no time, Halig set up the chee board—a game similar to checkers, but played on all four sides and meeting in the center—while the others bustled around getting things ready for the fleadhah. Annie had never been happier. This was what life was all about. This is what having a family was for.

  TWENTY

  The day following the storm, Haelee, Annie, and Halig went outside to clean up debris that the agitated sea had coughed up. Annie was amazed at what they found scattered up and down the shore. It was low tide—lower than she’d ever seen it—and there was plenty of beach visible, so the jetsam was in plain view.

  “What’s this?” Annie called out. She’d found a round, greenish blob covered in two-inch spines. She was about to nudge it with her foot when Halig shouted a warning.

  “Do not touch that, Annie.” he yelled. “It is harmful.” He ran over and pulled her away. “It is a cruhch. See the poisonous spines? Touch one of those and you will be very sick. Or, worse, die an agonizing death.” He had a saucy gleam in his eye, daring her to squeal in alarm.

  Annie ignored his obvious delight in making her squirm. She refused to let him see her fall apart, but she was disturbed. “Jeez. If you have things like this in your ocean, why do you swim in it? I wish I’d known about these nasty things before I went in. Jeez. Are you crazy or what?”

  “Yes. We embrace danger like a baby does his moshi bear.”

  Haelee, who’d joined them, shook her head and made a face at her brother. “Oh, Halig. You are beyond help. Do not let Father hear you say such things to Annie.” She turned to Annie, who stood there with hands on hips. “Do not worry. It is safe to swim. I would not have gone in nor allowed you to if it were not safe. The cruhch lives far out and stays on the ocean bottom. It does not swim. It just waits for its prey. They never come ashore unless we have had a very bad storm.”

  “Yeah…okay…but all the same…makes me shudder to think about it.” Annie watched as Halig got rid of the dangerous bottom dweller, and then resumed her search along the shore. A few yards down the beach she spied something shiny, like gold. Running over to it, she kicked at it with her shoe. It appeared to be a rock of some kind. No spines.

  She called over her shoulder. “Haelee. What’s this? This thing okay to touch?”

  Haelee hurried over but skidded to a stop when she saw what Annie had found. “Oh, Annie. You have found something very precious. Father can turn it in for currency.”

  “Currency?”

  “Yes, currency. You understand. It is, uh, it is money.”

  “Oh. That’s neat. It’s like gold, then. I thought it looked like gold, but I wasn’t sure.”

  Halig ran over and whooped when he saw the chunk of ‘gold’. Picking it up, he tossed it high in the air. “This is great. Thank you, Annie. Mother will be pleased. It is not often wahshhahi is so generous.” The rock landed with a heavy thud on the sand. Halig retrieved it, laughing heartily. “This is very, very great. This is—how do you express it? Awesome.”

  The three trouped into the house and placed the precious rock on the kitchen table, then stood back to watch Aeldorah’s expression. They all laughed when she gasped in astonished delight.

  “Oh, my. How nice. You found coihbche. Your father will be so surprised.”

  “Annie found it,” Halig said, giving Annie a big grin followed by a playful slap on her behind. “She should be able to spend some of it.” His wink stopped the loud protest she was about to make.

  “Perhaps we can do some shopping when we take Annie to the hospital this afternoon,” Aeldorah said, missing or ignoring the horseplay. She smiled then shook her head in mild exasperation. Annie’s face had blanched. “Oh, dear child. Do not look so forlorn. You understood the reason for your coming here, did you not?”

  Annie pondered this for a moment and then nodded. “Yes…I do-did—but, jeez. I mean, I realize I wasn’t supposed to remember about my being brought up to the shuttle when I was four years old. I know they gave me something to erase my memory. But… it didn’t work because I…I didn’t forget…I remembered. I remembered.” The last word ended on a hiccup.

  Aeldorah put an arm around Annie’s shoulders. “There is nothing to worry about, Annie. I rather think you will enjoy the trip to our medical facility—our hospital. Dahlan Murhie is the physician who will be examining you. He is a good friend of ours, and a very gentle man. His wife, Ciannah, also is a physician there. You will like her very much.”

  “Yeah…okay…”

  “Everything will be fine, Annie. You will see.”

  “Yeah…sure…I know…”

  Annie returned the woman’s hug and followed Haelee and Halig back outside. Although her heart was lower than her ankles, she knew she had to be a good sport and bury her feelings. There were several downed branches from the pahjah trees that needed to be picked up and relegated to a compost pile at the back of the island. Annie was determined to put all her energy into helping the twins do their job. They spent over an hour cleaning up the gardens and grassy clearing where they had the hahlmahnahtah every evening—weather permitting. When they were through, very few signs of the storm remained.

  Craddohk, who’d been away, seeing to a minor crisis on another island brought on by yesterday’s wind and high tide, returned just as they were sitting down for the mid-day meal. Joining them, he smiled and reached over to tousle Annie’s short curls.

  “Are you ready to visit our medical facility, Little One? It is not far away—closer, in fact, than the university.”

  Annie made a face then followed it with a lopsided grin. “Sure. Aeldorah told me about the two doctors who are your friends.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin, folded it, then set it beside her plate and forced a wider smile. “So, Craddohk, tell me. Is everybody on this planet your friend?”

  The man lifted his head and let go a hearty laugh. Haelee giggled, and Halig snorted, choked, and sent a stream of juice across the table—much to his mother’s dismay. But ever poised, it was Aeldorah who addressed the question.

  “No, Annie…my husband is not friends with everyone on Ahrmoira, but it is true that he has many, many friends. A man in his position has the opportunity to meet many different people. Craddohk has lectured in several universities about your home world, Earth. He is received warmly and thought of quite highly.”

  “How many islands are there on this planet? I mean, what’s your population?”

  “We are few compared to your Earth numbers,” Craddohk explained. “Ahrmoira is a sea world; there is not much usable land. We have three landmasses the size of your Australia, and approximately three thousand eight hundred and seventy-two other islands of varying sizes. As for the number of people—well, last count, there were thirty million of us.”

  “Wow. There aren’t many of you, are there. Don’t we have, like, a billion on Earth?”
Annie exclaimed.

  “Six billion, I believe,” Craddohk replied, shaking his head as though in disbelief.

  “Incredible, if you ask me.” Halig volunteered. “You’d think with all the wars and killing you do that there would be fewer of you. I am surprised you exist at all.”

  Annie glared at him. “Oh, please.”

  “You do. Have wars, I mean. You know you do. And what is even worse is your rabid consumption of natural resources…”

  “Hey, wait just a minute.”

  “Open your eyes, Annie. You Earthers waste everything. Trees, water, animals, even one another. Here on Ahr…”

  “Halig. That is enough.” Craddohk was frowning. His son clamped his mouth shut with no further argument.

  Annie sat back and summoned the reserves of what complacency she had left. Determined to put up a good front, she slipped on a mask of indifference and turned to Craddohk. “Another question. Does everyone have his own island to live on like you do?”

  “No. Many of the islands are large enough to support several dwellings—usually family groups, but not necessarily. We are very blessed to have this beautiful home.”

  “Do you have any relatives?”

  “I was an only child of elderly parents. They are now deceased,” Craddohk explained matter-of-factly. “Aeldorah has a brother and parents who live on an island on the far side of the mainland where the spaceport is located. It is about an hour flight from here.”

  Aeldorah clapped her hands twice and stood up. “Enough talk. Time to get ready for our outing. Hurry, everyone. I want clean clothes that are suitable for our venture and washed hands and faces. And that includes you, husband.”

  Haelee and Annie laughed at the miserable look Halig had donned and the surprised one registered on Craddohk’s face.

  “Mother, I detest dressing like a toohr.” Halig complained.