by J. Naomi Ay
"No, we didn't!" I wanted to shout, but didn't. Instead, I held my tongue, screaming these words only in my mind. Along with them, I lobbed a few profanities directly at my husband, who, wherever he was, was undoubtedly laughing at my predicament. That was unless he was in some kind of trouble while he fought to rid the universe of all evil.
“We were assigned together on our first posting. That was the S/S Discovery, back in the day. Then, that Rehnorian came, and stole her away from me. Unfortunately, after that, I never married. I could never find a girl who could quite measure up, even though Katie was only sixty-two point three seven inches tall.” He laughed as if he was funny, which personally, I didn't think it was.
"Is that right?" I smiled politely.
"Absolutely." Dave leaned in closer
“How the hell did you know that?” I demanded, getting rather annoyed.
“I looked at her personnel records when I was on the Discovery. I was in statistics and analysis so I had access to all crew files. She also weighed one hundred and eighteen point…”
“Stop!”
“Oh! I’m sorry.” Dave blushed. “Am I making you uncomfortable with this data?”
“Yes,” I replied, and vigorously shovelled the mud. “Maybe, you should consider writing your personal memoirs. You have quite the stories to tell. They’ll be big sellers, I am absolutely certain.” I hoped this suggestion would immediately spark a fire in his brain, and send him scurrying back to his own camper to get started.
“Indeed, I do. Once or twice now, I’ve sat down, and attempted to type out a few words. I haven’t been very successful, I’m afraid. I like numbers so much better than letters. Numbers are logical and the rules never change. Words, on the other hand, can have so many different meanings.”
“Mhm.” I nodded and smiled, wiping my brow as if in a sweat. “Well, I had better get inside, and cool off. It was nice chatting with you today, Dave. See you around sometime. Goodbye. Have a wonderful rest of the afternoon.”
“But, you didn’t tell me your name,” he protested, his feet not moving an inch from where they were planted in the center of what would become my garden.
“It’s Anne, but you can call me, Red.”
“I like that, Red. You remind me of my old friend, Goldie. In fact,” he continued as I waved and walked away. “You appear to be almost the exact same height. Your weight, however, is…”
“Stop!”
“Oh! Sorry, I did it again, didn’t I? Must not discuss a lady’s weight. I should have known that’s not polite. Will you forgive me, Red?”
“Sure.”
I climbed up the three steps into the camper.
“As long as you forgive me for leaving you now.”
“Certainly. Perhaps, I shall visit with you again, tomorrow?”
“Perhaps.”
I shut the door, and for good measure, turned the lock. The window was open so I could hear him whistle as he walked away.
“Red appeared to be five foot two point one five inches which is probably what Goldie would be now at this age. Her weight, I’m going to estimate, is one hundred and…”
I slammed the window shut, entirely convinced that Senya had abandoned me here on purpose. Unfortunately, a moment later, a knock sounded upon the door.
"Oh, Red?" Dave called, trying to peek inside. "One more question."
"What is it?" I called, refusing to open the door.
"How would you like to play a game of chess?"
Chapter 5
Janet
After Jerry died, I sold the beach house on Darius II and moved back to Earth. I know, I know, I said, I was never going back there. Who needed New Jersey when they lived in paradise? It wasn’t the same though. I was bored out of my mind all by myself, and everything about our little place kept reminding me of Jerry.
We had a few good years together. Yes, we did. So, it wasn’t perfect. When is it ever perfect? Frankly, there were some things about Jerry that drove me absolutely nuts. I could start with the way he left the toilet seat up every time he went in the bathroom, or his blindness when it came to emptying the garbage. That, very nearly made me go insane. I mean, when the can is full, it’s obviously time to take it out.
The refrigerator was another thing. Come on! The milk is that stuff in a big white bottle on the top shelf, and the mayonnaise has never moved from the white jar on the middle shelf. For a guy who was once a surgeon, he sure had trouble finding what was right in front of his nose, and somehow, he always managed to make a mess.
Oh well. I still missed the guy. In the whole scheme of things, our marriage was closer to better than worse, which is about as good as you can get in this life. Although, when it came down to it, I think I missed Dr. Ron even more than Jerry. It was his death that knocked me for a loop.
“Why should you even care?” Gladys asked. “I mean, other than the usual reasons.”
My neighbor was sitting on my sofa knitting a sweater. It was for me to take to Jersey even though I’d never wear it in a million years.
"He was a good friend," I insisted. "He was the best boss I ever had. Do you want any more of this apple Danish before I leave it on the deck for the birds?"
Gladys waved it away and continued alternating yellow stripes with red and orange. The sweater was going to be hideous but I smiled politely and assured her I would wear it. Actually, I decided I was going to give it away. Probably some poor kid in New Jersey would be happy to have it. Not everyone was as particular about their sweaters as me.
So, there I was in Tinton Falls, a population predominated by gray hair. That was okay. I had plenty of gray in my own. It was also a nice quiet community, which was good, because at this point in my life, I wasn't interested in wild nightlife or trips to the shore. I joined a Bridge group, and a senior hiking club although the only place we ever hiked was from the parking lot to the Monmouth Mall's main entrance.
I kept myself busy, and for the most part, I wasn't lonely. What I was, was stupid, as I had forgotten all about the New Jersey winters. The first of December, there I was without a decent coat and four feet of snow blocking the doors of my rented house. All I had was Gladys's sweater, which I had forgotten to give away. Frankly, I had completely forgotten about that too. I found it at the bottom of my bureau where I had been searching frantically for a polar fleece, something else which I had forgotten to buy.
Dressing only in that sweater, and armed with a broken, plastic snow shovel someone had left in the garage, I went out to clear a path for my escape.
Oh, I escaped alright. I flew away in a big red truck, an oxygen mask on my face and an IV dripping in my arm. That was forty minutes after I slipped and broke my ankle which fortunately, my neighbor, Norman saw from his front window.
Actually, he never saw me, but he spied the shovel waving in midair which was interesting enough for him to fetch his boots. He found his coat and hat, and toddled over to my neighboring yard where he discovered me lying in a hypothermic state.
As fast as his ninety-seven year old legs would take him, he raced back to his own house and fumbled around searching for his cell. I was very lucky, in the twenty minutes it took to find it, he didn't forget why he had been looking, although, he did pause to use the bathroom and eat some toast.
A full seventy minutes after I took the plunge, I arrived at the Robert Wood Johnson Medical Center where I spent the next few days dreaming I was somewhere else.
When I finally woke up from my medically induced coma to a shock of pain reverberating throughout my leg, I discovered a man observing me. I could have sworn it was Dr. Ron, and he looked just like he did years ago. He was wearing his dark glasses, and his long black hair was pulled back in his usual pony tail. There was even that faint scent of menthol cigarettes lingering in the air.
"How are you feeling, Janet?" He asked.
"Peachy," I replied. "How are you feeling, Ron? Wait! Am I dead?"
"No." He smiled with those white and sharp looki
ng canines. Back in the day, I always wondered how Captain Perfect never managed to bleed to death whenever he came at her with those teeth. I didn't wonder too hard though, otherwise, I might have gotten very depressed.
Now, I would have asked him a few more questions, such as where in the hell I was, and what in the hell was he doing here with me. However, a nurse came in just then, and Dr. Ron departed although I didn't see him go out through any door.
The nurse reloaded my IVs, and dumped the output in my bag, then poked at my swollen ankle which was suspended in a sling.
"Ow! What the hell are you doing there?"
"Oh! I'm sorry. Did that hurt?"
"No. I'm screaming because this is so much fun."
She smiled politely, and chuckled a little even though I didn't think it was funny.
I never did that to any of my patients. I mean, who goes around poking their fingers and asking if it hurts? Just assume it does. That's why I'm demanding some more drugs.
"Would you like to order your dinner now, Mrs. Kersey? It'll be good for you to eat some solid foods."
"That's Miss Kersey to you. Nurse Kersey, as a matter of fact. I know more about nursing than you've got brain cells in your head. I was Chief Surgical Nurse for the infamous Dr. de Kudisha, and head of the Neuro OR team at SdK Rozari. Where's the Patient Options Digital Display? I'll order food when I feel like eating. The only food I feel like eating now is morphine."
"We don't have those machines here," she replied, pulling out a paper menu. "Just mark which items you want, and the orderlies will deliver them at 5PM."
"Deliver them? You mean, you don't have a room based Patient Supply Delivery System? I can't believe this. What kind hospital is this? Did I fall into a time warp and emerge in some other century? I thought I was in New Jersey, USSA. Maybe, I'm really in Wonderland. Where's the white rabbit and the Queen of Hearts?"
She laughed again, and furtively glanced at my meds.
"Now, don't you touch them!" I ordered. "I know what I need, and right now, my ankle feels like you idiots cut it off. Actually, it would feel better if you did. Give me 20 more mgs of morphine, and bring me a double scotch on the rocks. If you don't have rocks, don't worry. I'll take my scotch straight up. Hurry it up before I start to get irritated. You don't want to see me in a bad mood. Trust me, it's not pretty, and much worse than this."
"We'll see what the doctor says." She patted my hand. "Sometimes folks have odd reactions to their meds. You might be experiencing a little disorientation right now."
"I'm not confused. I'm perfectly lucid but becoming increasingly annoyed. Who is my doctor anyway? Is it Dr. Ron? He was just here before you came in."
This time she didn't answer. In fact, her face showed no expression at all which made me wonder if this hospital was using androids for their nursing staff. Actually, come to think of it, I'd seen androids with more scintillating personalities.
"Hey," I yelled as she left. "Tell the orderly to bring me some jello along with that double scotch, and I want it now. I like the green kind and make sure it's green jello, not green scotch, you dunderheads."
After that, I turned on the vid and watched Dr. Felix.
I must have fallen asleep at some point. I couldn’t recall how the episode ended. The last I saw, chairs were flying in every direction. Someone was shouting and someone got a fist in their face while Dr. Felix was cutting to an advert. The next thing I knew, there was Dr. Ron again standing over me, this time with a tablet in his hand.
“I’m going to sign you out, Janet,” he said.
“What about my ankle?”
“It has been repaired. I shall meet you in the front hall by the doors.” He turned and left again as my heart began to race. Seriously? He was signing me out. Maybe this time it was my turn, and Captain Perfect would lose out. Maybe I'd fallen down a black hole or into a time warp or alternate dimension where this time, Empress Janet de Kudisha would rule while Captain Perfect ended up in a beach shack on Darius with Jerry Waldman.
I jumped out of the bed, landing squarely on both feet, and surprisingly, neither ankle gave a twitch. Quickly, I put on my clothes, and grabbing my purse, I headed for the door where Ron was smoking his usual cigarette.
“Where are we off to, Doc?”
“My place.”
He led the way to a shiny, black Porsche that was waiting in the drive.
“What about the Mrs?” I asked, climbing inside and melting into the soft leather seats.
“Who?”
“Captain Perfect? You know, your wife of the last half century or so?”
He shook his head as if he was confused, the light sending silvery slivers through his shiny black hair.
"I don't know of who you speak," he replied, taking a drag on his cig.
“Alright, never mind,” I decided. “We’ll go with this version of history now. I think I'm going to like it better than the last one."
Chapter 6
Hannah
We ate the mule. Why waste such a good source of meat? It wasn’t very tasty. The beast had been old and the muscles were stringy, and bitter. What little I managed to swallow, I ended up vomiting anyway.
Marik enjoyed it though. That boy had an iron stomach, and wasn’t very particular about taste when it came to meat. A hunk of something on a stick roasted over a fire, and seasoned with a healthy dose of charcoal or dirt was enough to keep him happy.
In a perverse way, he relished knowing the creature when it had been alive. There was no doubt, hunting and slaying were in his blood. Even more so, he reveled in dismembering the animal, skinning it, and cleaning the bones.
“You could be a surgeon,” I remarked, watching as he carefully cleaned the carcass.
“Ha!” He scoffed. “I am a warrior. Someday, I want to skin a Mishak just like I’m doing to this mule.”
“You are a butcher. Don’t forget you’re half-Mishak yourself.”
“No, I’m not. I’ll all of Karupatani.”
I turned away, rather than argue. He was a stubborn and petulant child with a brain too young and small for his strong body. Furthermore, my stomach had gone queasy. The bile was rising in my throat again, even though I hadn’t eaten anything yet this day. Although I had thought I had seen everything in my lifetime, this dissection was making me ill, and the stench from the exposed bowels was doing me in.
“I want to leave tomorrow,” Marik announced while gnawing on a bone. He had lost his primary teeth and was cutting the permanents. “I’m bored with this place. I want to go where there are more people.”
“I don’t think I can, Marik. I’m too tired.”
I lay down beneath the skins I had strung between two trees. It wasn’t great but had served to keep us dry. The snow had melted and the rains had passed. Although it was cold, the sun shone daily, filling me with the illusion of warmth and hope.
“You’re always tired.” Marik tossed the bone into the fire. “You are lazy, too. Maybe, I’ll leave you here and go by myself. I have my friend, the eagle to guide me. I don’t need you.”
“Marik,” I begged. “Don’t leave me.”
The boy shrugged.
“Maybe, I’ll come back and maybe, I won’t.”
He threw the rest of the meat into the fire where it began to sizzle and pop, the fat melting and creating a sickening, charred smell.
“Do what you want,” I retorted, turning my back to him. At this point, I really didn’t care.
For the next few days, I was filled with remorse. What an evil mother I was to let my child wander off! On the other hand, he had a better chance of surviving than me. He was healthy, and strong while I lay here weak as a kitten. I could barely sit up, let alone go off and hunt.
Frankly, I could do nothing. I hadn’t the strength to even lift my cup. Without water, I was dehydrating and would quickly die beneath this tarp. The animals would come eat my body. I, who had once been an Imperial Princess, who had travelled the stars, and been a doctor, could do n
othing to save myself. I would become fodder for the forest creatures for a day.
I began to hallucinate. I imagined the day had turned to night, and the stars all melded into one. The two moons drew closer, shining their orange countenance upon me, illuminating my face in an otherworldly light. That black eagle, the one who had been mocking me all this time, flew down from the heavens, or more likely, the tree branch he had been perched on. Standing by the fire, he placidly gazed at me.
“What do you want?” I demanded. “Go away, you horrid, evil bird.”
“You are dying,” the monster replied. “Would you like for me to help you?”
“Help me die or help me live? In either case, no.”
I tried to spit at the creature although no saliva came from my lips. My mouth was dry. My kidneys were failing. The eagle was right. I wasn’t going to last much longer.
“I could bring you water,” he offered. “I could place it between your lips, or I could end your suffering in this body by sending you on your way.”
“Leave me alone. I know who you are and I don’t want your help.”
“Well, you see, the problem is, Hannah…” Suddenly, he was no longer a bird. “Whether in this life or what comes after, you shall never be quite rid of me.”
“Why? Because of your son?”
“Hardly,” he laughed. “Choose life, Hannah, and I shall grant he, whom you carry within you, great power to achieve that which you desire and more.”
“I am pregnant then,” I admitted, finally voicing the thought which I had purposely avoided. “Whose is it?”
He laughed again. “So many choices. Whose would you like it to be?”
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t care. Frankly, I don’t care if the brat dies along with my body.”