Centauri Serenade

by Theresa Jenner Garrido

  Annie snatched at the word. “What’s a toohr?”

  Halig grimaced. “Just one of our world’s most gaudily plumed birds. That is all. And my mother is forever insisting I look like one.” He turned to his parent. “I do not want to be ridiculed by my friends.”

  “Hosh, you silly boy. Do as I say and wash, please. And take off that filthy jumpsuit and put on the new one.”

  With a saucy grin tossed Annie’s way, Halig saluted. “Yes, most esteemed and benevolent Mother. I shall comply.” He turned and sprinted for his bedroom.

  Within the hour, the family sailed across the wahshhahi toward an island whose silhouette could be seen on the southern horizon. The hospital was a sprawling building made from lime-colored fhah. The gardens surrounding it were alive with radiant blooms. It was both pleasing and restful to the eye.

  Craddohk landed the hoverlight in the parking area and they disembarked. He led them to a side door and ushered them into the building. The floor was tiled in a native stone, and the place smelled fresh, like clean, mountain air. A tang of citrus mixed with a subtle floral scent invited Annie to inhale deeply. It felt good just to breathe on this world.

  Craddohk waved to a woman seated behind an oval desk and she nodded in acknowledgment. They walked down the wide corridor, turned a corner, and came to a double door. Craddohk touched the door panel then walked into the room. A handsome man with hair the color of turquoise greeted him. Annie stared at him in awe. He wore his straight hair longer than Craddohk did, and the contrast with his deeply bronzed skin was startling. His eyes were a crystal blue and an exact match with the tunic he wore.

  “Dahlan, you are looking well,” Craddohk greeted his friend.

  The physician grinned, ignored his friend, and walked over to Aeldorah. He wrapped long arms around her in an exaggerated embrace. “Dear Aeldorah, you are even more beautiful than the last time I saw you.”

  “And you are even more a tease than the last time I saw you,” Aeldorah chuckled, gently pushing the man away. “Where is your wife, you big tohpadh?”

  The doctor, still grinning, pointed to a closed door behind him. “Ciannah is in there, waiting for our esteemed guest.” He looked down at Annie. “And you must be that guest. Am I correct?”

  Annie shrugged. “If you mean, am I the Earther, then, yes, I am.”

  “Wonderful. And how are you feeling, Little Earther? No aches or pains?”

  Annie glanced at the Draehls, then shrugged again. “I’ve been doing quite well, Dahlan. Thank you.”

  Craddohk nodded. “Yes, she has done remarkably well. She eats as much as the twins and swims like a wahlee.”

  At that moment, the door opened and in walked a pretty woman with the long hair of her race. She thrust out both hands and gave a subdued shriek of pleasure. “Aeldorah. Craddohk. When did you arrive? I did not hear you come in.” She slapped her husband’s sleeve in mock annoyance. “Oh, you are impossible.”

  In retaliation, her husband took her into his arms and kissed her soundly. The Draehls laughed with delight and Annie, after a second’s hesitation, joined in. The adults chatted about the storm, the coming Ehsbahtah, and life in general. Then, Dahlan raised a hand and signaled that it was time to get down to business.

  “All right, everyone. I must take a careful look at our little friend. Yes?” He turned to Annie and motioned for her to climb up onto a narrow table. She did as she was told, perching on its edge so her legs could dangle.

  The Draehls took seats against the far wall and Annie was relieved to see that they weren’t going to abandon her. She directed her attention to the two physicians.

  Dahlan and Ciannah poked and probed; pressed cold, metal cylinders against her neck, and talked between themselves. After what seemed an eternity, they asked her to hop off the table and sit in a chair with a curious hood attachment.

  “That looks like a hair drier at a beauty salon on Earth,” Annie remarked.

  Dahlan looked at her quizzically. “Hair…drier? Beauty…salon? I am not familiar with such things.”

  Annie shrugged. “Never mind. They’re just Earth English terms.” She gestured toward the chair. “What is this thing for?”

  “We would like to look, uh…inside your head. Measure brain function and…”

  “Will it hurt?”

  “Absolutely not,” Ciannah hastened to reassure her. “You will not feel a thing. This will help us decide what dosage to give you.”

  “So I won’t remember…”

  “Yes, Annie. It is imperative that you not recall anything about your, uh, visit to our world. You understand?”

  “I guess…although I promise I won’t tell anybody…”

  “It is not only for that reason, dear. You would, perhaps, fret and worry needlessly about your stay here. We do not want to, how shall I say, cloud your future.”

  Annie didn’t respond, but sat in the chair and allowed Dahlan to place the “hood” over her head. She heard him flick a switch, and then a soft humming filled her ears. She didn’t feel a thing.

  The entire process took only twelve minutes. Ciannah helped Annie up from the chair, and the Draehls left their seats to join the physicians and Annie as they discussed the outcome of the examination.

  “She will be fine, Craddohk. I now know the proper dosage for her particular brain pattern. She will not remember a thing once safely back on Earth. You may take her to her home world now.”

  At this, Annie looked up in alarm. “Now? I have to go back to Earth now? Today?”

  Craddohk shook his head. “No, not today, but very soon, Little One. We cannot risk keeping you much longer. You will be missed. And you will be unable to account for the missing days.”

  “But…I don’t want to go home. I want to stay here…with you.”

  “But that would be impossible…”

  “No, it wouldn’t. And besides. It hasn’t even been two weeks yet. I haven’t been away more than a week.”

  Aeldorah intervened. “Can we not discuss this better at home? Now we are going shopping. I promised the twins and Annie that we would spend part of the coihbche.”

  Ciannah agreed. “Yes, I think that is a splendid idea. I wish I could take a day off and accompany you. You go and have a good time.”

  The Draehls thanked their friends and steered a disconcerted Annie out of the examination room, down the hall, and out the side door. In minutes they were secured in the hoverlight and on their way to the mainland. Annie sat in the back seat with the twins. Her heart felt like a lead weight. Tears threatened to escape her tightly closed eyes. I have to go home. Home. But isn’t home supposed to be where the heart is? This is my home. I don’t want to leave Ahrmoira. I don’t want to leave the Draehls. I have nothing on Earth. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

  TWENTY-ONE

  At first, Annie was barely able to keep up the appearance of enjoying the afternoon’s shopping spree. She enthused over the new art supplies that Haelee selected, and forced a hoarse laugh as Halig pounced upon a new zhern. “Very much better than my old one,” he told her. Little Adorie chose a three-dimensional puzzle so intricate that Annie wondered whether she, herself, could figure it out.

  By the time the family sat down to dinner at an exclusive restaurant, done up in an Earth-like motif, Annie relaxed. She’d put the awful thought of leaving at the back of her mind and concentrated on the present. She wanted to savor every minute with this wonderful family—to just have fun—and this Earth-like restaurant was beyond hilarious.

  Annie stifled rising chuckles at the décor and marveled at how accurately they’d envisioned it. The food was great and Annie ate until stuffed, remarking that she felt this way after every Thanksgiving dinner back in Atlanta.

  That evening, they had the hahlmahnahtah later than usual. The others waited while Aeldorah put Adorie to bed, then they trouped out to the clearing to begin. The three moons were almost at their fullest. The holy day, Ehsbahtah, was the day after tomorrow, and Annie wondered whethe
r she’d participate. She hoped so with all her heart.

  They played their music for forty-five minutes. When Craddohk lowered his zhern and placed it on a near-by bench, the rest put down their instruments and waited for him to speak. He cleared his throat, looked up at the three gloriously colored moons, and sighed.

  “Little One…I speak for all who have had the pleasure of meeting you…We will miss you, little Earther…We will keep the memory of you deep in our hearts…”

  “Don’t you see?” Annie interrupted, feeling heat rise up her neck and into her cheeks. “Didn’t you hear what you just said? That’s what’s screwy about this whole thing. You get to remember me, but I don’t get to remember you. It isn’t fair. It isn’t.”

  “Oh, Little One…” Craddohk said.

  “No. Don’t call me that. I’m not your ‘little one’. I’m not a simple child who can be placated with a piece of candy. When I give my word, I keep it. I wouldn’t betray anything about your planet to the people on Earth…”

  “Dear, Annie, you…”

  “No. It’s not fair. I want to stay here with you. I want to be a part of all this—your way of life, way of looking at things. I can be a viable part of this world. I’ll work and contribute. I’ll…”

  Annie burst into a torrent of tears. At first, she pushed away any attempts by the family to comfort her, but after repeated endeavors, she allowed herself to be folded in Aeldorah’s loving arms.

  For several minutes, she wept against the woman’s breast, until, her emotions spent, she consented to being led to her room and put to bed. Aeldorah sat on the edge of the bed. “Oh, Annie,” she murmured, “you cannot know how sorry I am that this has upset you so.” She sighed. “Why do you loathe home so much, my darling?”

  Annie grimaced. “Oh, Aeldorah…I don’t think you could ever in a million years understand. My mother is nothing like you…nothing. She’s totally absorbed in her stupid pottery—has been for as long as I can remember. And my dad? He’s even worse. He’s arrogant and mean. He only thinks of himself. He’s only interested in climbing the fricking corporate ladder.”

  Aeldorah clicked her tongue and shook her head slowly. “I see…”

  “Yeah, and they’re forever arguing. No matter what we do or where we go, they find something to complain about. It…well, it made me sick.” Annie sat up and leaned toward the woman. “I want you to be my mother. I know that sounds silly for someone my age to say, but…I do. You love your family. My mother doesn’t. You were more a mother to me this past week than she ever was.”

  Aeldorah nodded. “Perhaps. But if your father is as cold and self-absorbed as you say he is, could it be that your mother is frightened and lonely? Could she not be in need of attention from you, her only child? Have you ever shown an interest in what she is creating? She is, after all, a child deep inside like you…like us all…and needs appreciation.”

  Annie fell back against her pillow. “Oh…Aeldorah…I never thought of it like that…”

  “Well, you need not dwell on it now. Rest your mind, my dear. Listen to the music deep inside your heart. Go to sleep. Tomorrow is an important day.”

  Aeldorah stayed with Annie until she fell asleep. The last thing Annie remembered, the gentle touch of the woman’s hand on her forehead and the soft, melodic humming, the sweetest of lullabies.

  * * * *

  The following morning, Annie awoke to fingers of bright sunshine reaching through her window. She sat up and stared at the opposite wall. Then with a heavy heart, she got out of bed and padded to the washroom. Staring dumbly at her reflection in the mirror, she ran a comb through her disheveled curls. Then she paused as an idea cantered into her mind. She gave it rein and it bolted, with all the common sense she had left.

  I’ll run away. Childish as it sounds, that’s how I’ll solve this problem. They’ll have to let me stay when they see how determined I really am. She tossed the comb aside, ran out of the washroom, and jerked on her own jeans and T-shirt. As an after-thought, she stuffed her pockets with a few of the plum-like fruits called mahji, which filled a small basket on her dresser. Then she added the emerald green stone she’d found on the beach, some tissues, and a tiny muhlahtahtoh that Adorie had taken from her dollhouse and given her the day after the storm.

  Tip-toeing to the door, she opened it—careful not to make any noise—and listened for sounds of the others. It was quiet. She hoped that they were sleeping late—something they didn’t do often. Her heart in her mouth, Annie reached the front door without seeing anyone. She let herself out and closed the door behind her. Only a soft “click” betrayed her.

  Looking in all directions, she headed for the copse of pahjah trees at the far end of the island. Waiting a few minutes to catch her breath and calm a thunderously beating heart, she made her way to the small boat the twins used for their outings and heaved it into the water. She scrambled in, started the little motor, and headed out to sea.

  TWENTY-TWO

  At first, Annie kept within sight of the island. She wished she were a better sailor—knew the strength of the Ahrmoiran winds and currents—but she didn’t. She was a novice, at best, having gone out on the water with Doc only five times in her whole life.

  Studying the surface of the sea, she watched the undulating, rhythmic waves; even wet a finger and held it up to assess wind direction. But it all meant nothing to her untrained eye. The silhouette of an island on the far horizon caught her attention. Throwing her fears aside, Annie headed the boat in its direction.

  It was farther away than she thought.

  She set her mouth in a firm line and hunched her shoulders. She hoped the hump of land in front of her was the island where the hospital was located. It had been fairly close to the Draehl’s home isle and yet…how could she possibly know? But did it matter? Whatever island it was, Annie reckoned she’d be there long before dark.

  She was wrong.

  A trip that had taken only a few minutes by hoverlight was now taking hours. The sun hung low on the horizon. Soon it would be dark. Fear sprouted in the corners of her mind. If she didn’t reach land soon, she just might lose it.

  Gripping the steering lever tighter than necessary, Annie glued her eyes to the distant island. No longer just a silhouette, it had now taken on a distinct shape. One thing was clear, it was not the same island they’d visited yesterday. She had no idea what it was or who or what occupied it. Somebody friendly, she hoped.

  Annie didn’t have a watch. She was hungry, needed to use the bathroom, and only too aware of the smothering darkness pressing down on her. The island faded into the gloom despite the fact that she was much closer to its rocky shore. In a matter of minutes it was just an indistinct smudge on the horizon. Annie urged the small boat to quicken its rate. It refused and she’d no idea how to throttle up.

  “Come on,” she yelled in frustration. “Go. Go. Go.” The boat continued its relaxed and easy pace.

  Then the bright orange sun dissolved into an orange-red pool like a melted Popsicle and disappeared. In minutes, even the stain left behind evaporated. Annie was left in total darkness. The moons were mysteriously absent.

  “This is supposed to be Ehsbahtah.” she cried out to the inky void. “Where are the moons? Where are they?”

  As though in direct response to her plea, a strange glow brightened the sky to her left. Giant arcs of red and purple pierced the heavens. The bands of light writhed and pulsated in a bizarre dance across the black backdrop of night. Annie watched, fascinated. It was a spectacular show. It’s like the aurora borealis. Awesome…

  And then, a faint but steady light appeared on the lip of the horizon—at least, Annie guessed it was the horizon—too dark to be certain. She strained to make out the island’s contours and was rewarded with a vague silhouette in the distance. One of the moons rose behind the island, its light gilding the landmass in a soft greenish-gold. The effect was surreal and Annie shivered.

  Each of the three moons rose in slow motion,
vying for prominence at the zenith. With enough light from their combined illumination, Annie guided the small boat to the island’s shore. Because of the many jagged rocks, she had to swerve in and out among them before finding a suitable place to land.

  Stepping out into knee-deep water, Annie pulled the boat onto the beach—high up on the soft talc-like sand in case of a drastic tide change. She didn’t want to risk losing the craft for several reasons—the most important being that it belonged to her friends; the least important, that she might need it again.

  No living thing on the beach. No sound or movement whatsoever greeted her. Large, sharply angled rocks stood like sentinels over a sleeping army. Annie relieved herself behind one of the big rocks then strode up the beach at a steady pace. It was easy to see, now that the moons were up. Bathed in the colors of the rainbow, it was like walking inside a prism. I wish Jenny could see this. She’d really freak out, Annie laughed to herself. Dear Jenny…who really believes in life on other planets. She’d absolutely love Ahrmoira.

  Annie left the beach when she saw what appeared to be a well-trodden path. It meandered through a vast meadow of waist-high grass only to disappear into the dark forest that cupped it on three sides. These trees were not pahjah trees, but resembled firs back home. The only difference was that the bark of these trees was light brown with horizontal ridges and the fir needles were a lettuce-leaf green. Even in the shadows, she could make out the odd coloration.

  Feeling hungry, she reached into her pocket for one of the mahji fruits then grimaced as her fingers felt a mushy stickiness. “Ugh…they’re squished.” She stuffed the lavender fruit into her mouth anyway, licking the seedy driblets from her lips and chin. “Still tastes okay.”

  She ate a second one and felt refreshed—enough to continue her exploration.

  She walked.

  After more than fifteen minutes of pushing through the tall grasses and entangling shrubs and bushes with still no end in sight, Annie paused to review her options. As far as she could tell, she had three: go back to the beach and continue around the island, get in the boat and sail to an entirely different island altogether, or keep following the path. The second choice had less appeal than the first, and since she’d already gone quite a distance on the path, she chose the third.