by Laura Watson
“You can ask me, you know,” Samel broke in irritatedly, “I'm standing right here.” “Leave her alone,”
Mikel responded quickly to Samel. “She was speaking to me, not you.” “Yes. Of course, Mikel,” Samel answered quietly, his voice had lost its' ominous quality since Mikel's return.
“Sarah, there was just a disagreement between the two of them. Everything has been sorted out, and everything is fine.” Mikel reassured her. “Pate will be punished for his disobedient thoughts.” Mikel saw the way Sarah frowned when he told her Pate was to be punished and quickly added, “but it will be nothing he cannot bear, so stop worrying, alright?”
She is too young. Mikel thought. She is too alien, to ever understand why Pate's disobedient thoughts are such a serious infraction of our rules, our echelon strata and our entire way of life. Sarah need not know how Pate would be punished. She would only hurt for him when she shouldn't and pity him when none was warranted.
Pate had known full well what his disobedient thoughts would incur. Michael thought, saddened by the knowledge, he was one of them, and they all knew what such thoughts led to. Pate had accepted his punishment before it was given. He would face it and move forward or he would die.
Mikel told Pate to report to Serel, where he would accompany him later to administer his punishment. Samel stayed behind to escort Sarah back to the machine spaces after Mikel had finished speaking with her about the little cat they had found.
Mare now sat on the Brancher, and Sarah was alarmed when she saw her there, afraid that the Brancher would kill her, but Mikel quickly told her that the Brancher had allowed her to sit on him. The Brancher also told Mikel that he liked the way she scratched him with her small claws, “He said it felt invigorating,” Mikel chuckled.
Mare sat on the Brancher looking out of the large wide window into space. She looked as if she were hoping to see home again, like Sarah, Mikel thought.
Mikel was saddened. Once again, he had to say goodbye to his friend. He always hated doing that. He would keep Sarah with him, but she, like the little cat, would slowly die from the strangeness of the ship, from the separation from her own kind. She had to be taken home.
He turned to Sarah and told her that they were taking them home after they had harvested the shrimp they needed to replenish their food supply.
“She will leave with you Sarah and she will protect you. I have her promise that she will never leave your side.” “She can't even talk Mikel,” Sarah replied, smiling sadly. “How could she tell you that?” “You're just joking around, aren't you?” “She talked to me Sarah” Mikel said, astonished that Sarah would say that after what had just taken place in his living area.
Didn't she realize yet, that every living being speaks? That all life has a voice? “All animals can speak. You just have to learn how to listen.” Mikel said patiently. Sarah walked over to the viewing window where Mare sat contentedly on the Brancher, staring out. She carefully avoided standing too close to the Brancher. Wise decision, the Brancher thought to himself. Mare's eyes were wide and watchful as she stared out into the depths of space.
Author's Note - Mikel returns Sarah to her home on Earth. The remaining trip is uneventful, only the endless talk of The Harvest from the Grays and the unchanging scenery of the fiery stars and colorful planets as the patrol ship hurdles through space towards Earth. We'll leave Sarah here, safely back on Earth, at least for awhile.
Leslie
Leslie sat at her desk, her fingers restlessly drummed the keyboard of her old Hewlitt Packard laptop. A cigarette's smoke twirled in thin ribbons from the ashtray beside of it. “What was that dammed word? She thought irritably, picking the cigarette up and taking a long deep drag on it. She tapped her head absently with her fingertips but the word never materialized in her mind. She stubbed the cigarette out. The television, in the living room of her small house blared out a distracting mix of paid advertising commercials. It was the only thing on this late at night on the Network channels. Every five minutes of the program was interrupted by a plea from one of the animal rights organizations to help stop hunger, help stop abuse, and help stop the homelessness of animals. Leslie sighed deeply and closed her laptop gently. She couldn't concentrate on her writing tonight. She walked into the living room and turned the television off.
Those commercials always depressed her. The faces of those little animals stuck behind the bars of their cages was heart wrenching. Leslie gave donations to every animal welfare organization out there at one point or another, and those commercials...oh, they always got to her.
She tossed the TV remote carelessly on the sofa and walked into the kitchen. She poured another glass of Lambrusco then turned on the radio. It was turning into another long night. She listened to music from the eighties on the local Norfolk radio station 95.9 The Tide until three a.m. before she felt tired enough to call it a night.
Leslie slammed her hand down on the snooze button. The small clock's digital readout glowed with a greenish white intensity. Six o'clock. Her head pounded as she sat up and swung her legs off the bed. She turned the alarm off and walked sleepily into the kitchen.
The coffee was strong and good this morning and she sipped it slowly, feeling the caffeine kick her senses awake. She finished her coffee and walked into the bathroom, petting her cat Bene on the head as she passed by. “There's my Bene boy,” she said softly, leaning over him and scratching his ears as he sat gazing up at her.
She popped the top off of the large bottle of aspirin in the medicine cabinet and swallowed three of the orange little pills. She had to be at work at The Journal by eight. Leslie hurriedly showered and then fed her cats. She threw the empty wine bottle into the trash and stepped outside to a crisp, spring morning, in Norfolk, Virginia.
Leslie sat at her desk and sipped on the coffee that she had picked up at the shop across the street from her office. Her head thudded dully from the red wine she'd drunk the night before. “What's the matter Leslie, her editor asked with a grin, “tie one on last night?” He stood, leaning against the frame of her office door with a knowing smile on his large pleasant face. “Ughhh,”
Leslie groaned, “I'll take that as a yes,” he laughed, sauntering into the small neatly kept room. “Bob, your aftershave smells like ass this morning,” Leslie remarked, almost gagging on the cloying smell in that confined space. “Oh, that ain't me honey, he shot back, it's your nose working over time on account of that booze you put away last night.” “Why don't you take off the rest of the day?” He asked, on a serious note. “There ain't a lot going on in here today anyway.”
“Thanks, Bob. I have some articles that I need to work on today or I would,” Leslie replied. “well, give me a shout if you change your mind.” Bob said as he sauntered back out of the room. “Yeah, sure thing,”
Leslie called after him. She opened her laptop and powered it on. The sounds of traffic and pedestrians on their way back and forth down the busy street in downtown Norfolk drifted through the open window.
Leslie sipped her coffee and began her day by typing out a revision of her last article.
By noon, she felt a little more like herself again and stopped by Bob's office. “Want some lunch?” she asked. Bob looked up from the stack of papers he had been busily making changes to. “You buying?” he asked. Leslie smiled and said “Of course, you dope, why do you think I stopped by? “Well then,” Bob said, quickly pushing his chair back from the large mahogany desk. “I'm in.”
The lunch time crowd at Starters, the local cafe a block south was just pouring in when they arrived. Let's get a seat over by the window, Bob said, steering her to the right as they walked through the restaurant. Leslie knew why he wanted a window seat. He didn't want any talk to start up about the two of them out together.
Norfolk was like any other large city. There were eyes everywhere, and the wagging tongues that went with them. Bob had been having trouble in his marriage, and the last thing he needed was to have somebody whispering to his wife that he and
Leslie were hooking up. Now that is a preposterous idea. Bob thought wryly, Leslie was twenty years younger than he was and besides, Bob sincerely loved his wife. Leslie wasn't exactly his type either. She was an independent woman, a career minded woman. Those types didn't hold much appeal to him. Leslie held absolutely no attraction to Bob, except she was a helluva good writer.
Leslie looked out of the window. Ralph Waters was getting out of his car. He was parked on the street across from Starters. Crap, Leslie thought, what's he doing here? She turned her head quickly, hoping that Ralph hadn't seen her. The waitress had appeared and Bob had ordered already. “Can I take your order?” The petite brunette asked amiably, after she had finished jotting down Bob's order. “Hmmm,” Leslie said, picking up one of the plastic coated menus, “give me a minute, okay?” She looked at the waitress' name tag.
The small red square had the name Janet embossed on it. Leslie darted a glance out of the window. Ralph had spotted her. Fuck, she thought. His hand went up hesitantly and then he dropped it again as he saw her quickly turn her head. “Sure, anytime you're ready,”
Janet replied, forcing a smile and trying not to show her impatience.
Janet glanced around at the tables teaming with her uncollected tips. The lunch rush at Starters had her running her ass off today. She just knew that Kevin, that sneaky ass busboy, would grab them up if she didn't keep an eye on them. She had caught him swiping her tips before. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was still in the back dining area. He hadn't worked his way up this far clearing the tables yet.
Janet tapped her pen against the order pad and looked at the ceiling. Come on, come on, anytime now would be great, she thought impatiently, glancing over Leslie’s head at the two tables just full of tips.
After a brief look at the salad section of the menu, Leslie decided on a leafy green salad and water.
Janet scribbled her order on the light green order pad, holding it close against her chest as she scribbled, and left for the kitchen, but not before grabbing her tips from the two tables behind them. Score for Janet!, she thought and smiled brightly as she stuffed the greenbacks in her apron pocket.
She reappeared fifteen minutes later, with their meals, smiling as she saw Kevin raking the dishes off of the two tables into a square plastic tub. A frown creased his oily brow. His greasy hair spilled messily down in front of his eyes as he worked. His clothes were frayed and stained and sweaty. Janet just knew he stank, although she wouldn't EVER get close enough to him to find out. He just looked like he would smell bad. Oh, poor baby! she thought meanly, No tips for Kevin today. She placed Bob and Leslie's plates on the table and with a final triumphant glance at Kevin, she left.
“On a diet, Leslie?” Bob asked jokingly. “No Meat Day,” she replied. “Oh, I see,” Bob said, a note of annoyance tinging his voice. “You're one of those part time vegetarians, is that it?” “Just doing my part,” she said, stabbing her fork into the crisp greens of her salad.
“Well, I eat meat.” He stated matter of factly, “and nobody's going to tell me there's anything wrong with it.”
“Did I say anything about that?” Leslie asked peevishly, a little annoyed that this subject always seemed to come up in conversation with Bob. “No, but you animal rights people are all the same, Leslie, and I know what you're thinking.” “Yeah, really,? Leslie retorted, a hint of a smile forming on her lips “and what's that, Bob? What am I thinking right now?”
“You're thinking, that I am a heartless jerk for eating this nice sirloin steak for lunch. You're thinking that if I had a heart at all, I'd jump on your “save the animals”
bandwagon, but I'm telling you that I love meat. I think that animals were put here on earth to eat. So don't go trying to sell me on your No Meat Day.” He noisily cut off a large chunk of the juicy sirloin and stuffed it into his mouth. “Mmmm, good.” he said, playfully, around the mouthful of food.
Leslie couldn't help but like Bob. He was always goofing around about something. She put her fork down and placed her hand over her mouth to cover the smile that had crept over it. Her eyes darted to the window again, looking for Ralph. She saw him emerging from one of the many shops that lined the opposite side of the street, a small bag clutched in his hand. Ralph glanced at her as he climbed back into his red Subaru wagon. He sat there in his car. What is he doing? She wondered. A few, terribly long, moments passed as Leslie held her breath, watching him. Just when Leslie thought he might get back out and cross the street to the restaurant, she saw the car pull away from the curb and merge into the busy lunch hour traffic. He's heading back to his office, she thought, relieved. Maybe he finally gets it, she thought, maybe he'll just leave me alone from now on. She hoped he would. She really did.
Leslie cleared her throat and sipped some water from the tall sweating glass in front of her. “Bob, you are such a dope sometimes, you know that?” she replied, the smile threatening to emerge again. “I don't think that way. I eat meat too. I just think that an animal shouldn't have to suffer it's whole life before it's killed, that's all. There are humane ways to treat animals, you know. They don't have to be crammed into cages and pens where they can't even turn around or breathe because they're crammed in there so tightly. I mean, these factory farms have reduced animals to a product.
These are living, breathing, thinking, feeling, beings. It's just sickening.”
Bob listened as Leslie stood on her soapbox, preaching the evils of factory farming and when she had finished her long tirade, he cut another chunk from his juicy sirloin, stuffed it into his mouth and replied, “Mmmm...good.” Leslie laughed, “you're impossible.”
He shrugged his shoulders “it is what it is Leslie,” he stated indifferently. He finished off his meal, washing the thick steak down with a good, long, sip of his beer.
“So,” Bob asked teasingly, as the waitress placed the bill on the table, leaving it there while she fetched a steaming pot of coffee for the table beside of theirs.
“What's the deal with you and Ralph?” he finished.
“Oh,” she sighed, “there's no deal actually.” “Really?”
Bob said, his eyebrows rising, “I thought that the two of you were an “item.” “Well, Bob, not that it's any of your business, but we stopped seeing each other about three weeks ago.” “Oh I see,” Bob replied, “No, you don't see,” Leslie started, and then caught herself, “I'm sorry Bob, it's just been a tough few weeks for me.” “What happened,? Bob asked, concern replacing his usual sarcasm. “I thought you two got along really well. I mean you both have the same interests, the same tastes, practically the same personalities, so what happened?”
“That's what happened, Bob,” Leslie replied ruefully. “I just think that we might have been too much alike, like magnets, she thought, we are so alike that we repel each other. Even the strongest outside forces can only bind magnets of the same polarity together for so long.
Eventually the bonds fray and then burst apart, sending the two magnets flying topsy turvy into opposite directions.
“We are very much alike,” she continued, “and that was probably just not a good thing.” she paused a moment and tossed her napkin on the table, “Anyway,”
she continued, “I tried to leave the relationship on friendly terms, but Ralph didn't see eye to eye with me about it.
“Ralph doesn't sound like such a bad guy to me, Leslie,” Bob said quietly, “It sounds like he just knew a good thing when he had it,” “Yeah, well.” Leslie continued, “I just needed some breathing room, but this guy, he just doesn't get it, you know?” “Give him some time, Leslie, people don't just turn their feelings on and off like the kitchen faucet... damn.”
Bob felt for old Ralphie, he'd been kicked in the nuts his share too before finally settling down with his wife, Dana. “I know what you're saying Bob, and I am trying, really. I just want him to leave me alone. I don't even think we can be friends anymore and that sucks, because I really liked him as a person. I mean he is a re
ally great guy.”
Leslie looked distractedly out of the restaurant window at the space where Ralph's car had been parked earlier. Bob patted her hand as he rose from the table and said, “Come on let's get out of here, that paper ain't gonna write itself.” Leslie paid the bill at the cashier's station and Bob kicked in a generous tip.
They walked the block back to the Journal Office building, enjoying the cool spring breeze that blew up from the waterfront, each lost in their own thoughts.
Ralph sat in his car, the red Subaru that he had bought second hand when he was still in Grad School.
He wanted to go over to that restaurant so much that he was having a hard time thinking straight. What is she doing in there with Bob Jamison? He fumed silently.
Ralph knew that Bob was Leslie's boss at The Journal but the stubborn jealousy rising inside of him insisted that something was going on. Is that why she broke it off with me? he wondered, miserably. It took a full ten minutes for him to start the car, and pull away from the spectacle of the two of them at the window of Starters. His heart wrenched in his chest, a choking sob caught in his throat as he steered the Subaru into the noonday traffic back to his office.
He couldn't believe the way she had acted! Ralph knew that she had seen him wave. Couldn't she even be civil to him? Was she just some heartless bitch that couldn't see that she had just ripped his heart out?
Leslie had just sat there, chatting away and acting as if he had never existed, as if they had never existed.
Ralph pulled the Subaru over to the side of the street, he felt shaky and raw. He wanted to punch that fucking Bob Jamison right in his big goofy fat mouth.
That's what he should have done, that would have made him feel all kinds of better. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Relax, pal, he told himself, she isn't worth it, neither was Bob. They're not worth losing your practice over, not worth going to jail over. Relax.
The image of Leslie's face lingered in his mind, her laughing, smiling. Her beautiful face tilted up, smiling at him, kissing him. A pain twisted Ralph's heart so hard that he grabbed at his chest. What was that fucking bitch doing to him?