Human-Centaur Relations

by Jack Doe

  Bryce rubbed his chest. His throat hurt, too, and his eyes were threatening to sting. He choked it down.

  "Bryce, are you okay?" Sheila asked worriedly.

  "Yeah, I–It was just a lot to cover," he said.

  "I'll say! How's about taking a breath occasionally when you go over it again?"

  Bryce nodded. "The friend was a centaur," he said.

  "Okay," Sheila acknowledged.

  "He landed here to scope out mankind; centaurs used to live here thousands of years ago, but mankind slowly tried to enslave them."

  "Really!" Sheila said, humoring him.

  "Yes, really. They've been gone for thousands of years, and their best people calculated that mankind would be ready for their return sometime in the next few years or so."

  "I think they missed the mark on that one," Sheila teased.

  "Right? Anyway, so the centaur I met was a scout. And he stayed with me all of last week. It's why I couldn't wait to get home."

  "Ha! Not the pub after all!"

  "Nope. He was great, though. His name was Anul'thek."

  "Ana-what?"

  "Ah-nool`TEK," Bryce said, remembering how he'd been taught to say his friend's name. He could feel the pain in his chest coming back.

  "Ah-nool`TEK," Sheila said obliviously. "Cool name. Anyway, what happened?"

  "Well, since mankind wasn't ready to have company, yet, and since my grandpa has been waiting his whole life to meet them, and," he added sheepishly, "I kinda have, too, I asked if the two of us could go meet them on their ship."

  Sheila's eyes widened. Even if it was complete cockamamy, it was at least a good story. "Did they let you?" she asked breathlessly.

  "That's where I was all weekend," Bryce said, a grin plastering itself on his face and refusing to leave. "Sheila, it was amazing: a giant field with grass and streams and trees with every fruit you could imagine, and plenty you couldn't."

  "What's this about a meatfruit?"

  "It's awesome!" Bryce said, his face glowing, "It's about this big." He held his hands up. "About the size of a watermelon, and imperial purple! And it's hard like a nut on the outside. I tried to bite it, but it just made my teeth feel icky, like nails on a chalkboard."

  "Ugh, that doesn't sound awesome at all," Sheila replied.

  "No, but when Anul'thek cracked it open, there was this slimy-looking green flesh inside of it, and I was really not interested in tasting it, but Anul'thek rubbed it on my lips and wouldn't move his hand until I did. I did, and it tasted like a steak! It wasn't slimy at all; it felt like butter, it was so smooth."

  "It sounds like sashimi," Sheila said, beaming as she envisioned it. "That does sound awesome!"

  "Yeah, and it had this giant seed in the middle of it, as big as a coconut! Oh, and the centaurs reuse everything, so when they get rid of the seeds and peels from their fruits, they get turned into compost to make new dirt for the grass and trees."

  "Probably a necessity if they live on a spaceship," Sheila needled him.

  "You don't believe a word of this, do you?" Bryce asked with a huff.

  "I have to give you credit for your creativity," Sheila said, "but no. The meatfruit was a nice touch, but if you don't want to tell me what you did this weekend, that's fine." She smiled genuinely, but Bryce sensed that she was hurt. He sighed.

  "Okay, okay, I partied and had sex with a bunch of people this weekend, and I didn't want to fess up to it," he said confessionally. "Happy?"

  Sheila shook her head and smiled. "Isn't the truth just easier?" she asked.

  "Um, yeah, sure," Bryce said unenthusiastically.

  "Well, I'm going to go home, now. See you tomorrow, and do get some rest. You want to keep making a good impression, after all!"

  Bryce nodded. "Thanks, Sheila," he said as she started her car and drove away.

  The truth. The truth is that life is joyous, Bryce thought to himself as he mounted his bike and started off towards home. What could he be joyful about? He had his health, and so did Grandpa. And he'd just told the complete story of his weekend, and nothing bad had come of it. That was something. What was the other part of the life is joyous thing? If you're not feeling joyful, do something to make yourself feel joyful? He faked a smile. No use. What were the other maxims? He went over them in his head.

  We don't harm anybody if we can help it. Well, he'd seen that Sheila felt harmed, and he'd told a white lie—a lie that wasn't entirely dishonest: he had, after all, had a bunch of sex that weekend, and he had partied! He thought he'd done all right on that one.

  We all help plant, and we all help harvest. There was no planting to do or harvesting, but he was going to work, at least.

  Happiness comes from within. Ugh, this one was hard. He'd tried thinking of things that he should be happy about, but he wasn't happy. What was he doing wrong?

  More doesn't guarantee happiness; it only complicates your life. Well, he wasn't seeking 'more' of anything, was he? He thought about it. Maybe he was, he admitted. He was wishing that Anul'thek would come back. He was wishing he'd gotten to tell him he–. That was what was causing the pain in his chest. He was wishing for more, he told himself firmly. That was something to work on.

  Life is joyous. He was back where he started.

  He thought about his pining for Anul'thek. He didn't know what to do about it. He'd have to ask Grandpa.

  He finally pulled into the drive and dismounted.

  "Hey, Grandpa," he said.

  "Hey, kiddo. How was work?"

  Bryce grabbed a bitter from the refrigerator and flopped down on the couch next to his grandfather. "Not so good," he said, sipping his bitter. If the centaurs' wine was better than Grandpa's best, this bitter was worse than piss after eating asparagus. He grimaced and got up to pour the bitter out, but he stopped. There wasn't a never-ending supply of fruit and wine here, he thought. Reluctantly, he returned to the couch and sipped the brew, sighing.

  "I know that feeling," his grandfather said, shaking his head. "I've been feeling a pang of it here and there, too."

  "What do I do about it, Grandpa?" Bryce asked earnestly. "It's distracting me at work!" His grandfather nodded. "Before they came, I was so excited to work at Stonehenge, and I couldn't believe how lucky I was. Now that they've come and gone..." he trailed off for a moment. "It just feels so...I dunno...superficial. I feel like I know this great secret, but I can't share it!"

  "And you'd best not," Charles warned, "unless you want people to think you're crazy." He gave Bryce a significant look. "Ring any bells?"

  Bryce hung his head. "I know, Grandpa," he said. "You were right. I apologized already."

  Charles hugged his grandson. "I know, kiddo," he said. "I'm just pointing out that now you know what it feels like."

  "Yeah, more than you know," Bryce muttered.

  "How's that?"

  "Sheila...she asked me if I found out anything about the lights."

  "She knew about the lights?"

  Bryce stopped. Crap. Confession time. "Yeah, Grandpa. I told her because I needed someone to vent to, and I didn't want to get your hopes up."

  "Or get me started," Charles replied with a knowing, wry grin.

  "Or that," Bryce admitted sheepishly. His grandfather nodded. "Anyway, I told her I had, and that she wouldn't believe me. She pushed me anyway, and I told her. She thought that I had a great imagination, but she sounded hurt that I wouldn't tell her what really happened this weekend. I lied and told her I'd partied and had a bunch of sex."

  "That was no lie," Charles grinned.

  "I know," Bryce replied, also grinning, "but not with anything she'd expect."

  "I expect not!"

  "To sum it up, our story is safe; nobody'd believe us if we told them," Bryce concluded. They sat silently for a bit.

  "Grandpa, I can't stand it," Bryce said.

  "Neither can I, kiddo."

  "What can we do? They said that if your life isn't joyous, do whatever it takes to make it so."


  Charles nodded. "There's no getting our loved ones back," he murmured.

  "Loved ones?" Bryce asked.

  "Don't play dumb," Charles said unhappily. "You know exactly what I mean."

  Bryce's chest hurt again. "Yeah," he said. "But...who?"

  Charles gave him a dirty look that seemed to say, 'Really? You have to ask?'

  "Ala'ni," Bryce said quietly. Charles nodded.

  "How is it different from Grandma? What did you do back then?" Bryce asked.

  Charles sighed. "I hurt. For years, I hurt. You were probably too young to recognize it at the time, but I hurt for two years before I was finally able to move on."

  "You said that losing them let you spend time with me, Grandpa," Bryce prodded. "What do we have that makes us joyful as a result of meeting them and seeing them go?"

  "We know we're right," Charles said. "We know that after all those years of waiting, we weren't crazy after all." He sighed. "Seems like a small consolation prize, doesn't it?"

  "Yeah," Bryce nodded. The two sat silently, both lost in thought.

  "I'm gonna go to bed," Bryce said. "Sheila's advice for playing too hard this weekend." He shook his head.

  "Good night, kiddo," Charles said. "If nothing else, dream about them," he offered.

  Bryce nodded and went to bed.

  The next day was much the same, and so was the next: he woke to his alarm, turned it off, went to work, tried to remain upbeat, came home, and tried to figure out where the joy was. On Friday, he decided that visiting Stonehenge once had worked; maybe visiting it again would help.

  "All right, Stonehenge," he said, sitting once again in the middle of the inner horseshoe. Nothing happened. It was a quiet night. The agitated, unsettled energy he had felt at his last visit was gone, replaced by this utter calm and quiet. He sighed. "I don't know why I bother," he said aloud, "but I don't have any better ideas. What do I do? Where do I find joy?"

  His thoughts drifted to the ship: the plentiful food and drink that made mankind's processed food taste so bland, the company of so many genuinely happy beings, the carefree life they lived. How wonderful it must be, he thought, to never have to do anything, except the occasional planting. He shook his head. The centaurs lived in an environment more geared to that than Earth. Here, you had to watch after your plants. Here, you had to watch out for cold weather or hot weather or floods or drought. Still, he thought, the centaurs started here. If they'd been able to make do and still live joyous lives, surely we could muddle through?

  He thought about his job and how dispassionate he felt about it. He thought about the return of classes and the history that he'd have to study. Was it really worth it? What about his societal duties? The centaurs' duty to each other was to help plant and harvest. What would he do to be productive? What about training? He had no passionate teachers around him. He shook his head.

  A breeze picked up, and he thought he heard the centaurs singing. He looked over his shoulder, but there was nobody there. Still the songs echoed in his mind. There had to be a compromise, he thought. He stood. "Thanks for the chat," he said to the stones as he left.

  "Bryce, you're home late," Charles said in greeting. "Did you visit the pub?"

  Bryce shook his head. "No, I went to go talk to Stonehenge again."

  "Again?" Charles asked, frowning.

  "Yeah," Bryce replied. "The last time I went, I asked for it to make things clear about the bright light. That's when I met Anul'thek."

  Charles nodded slowly. "I never figured you for the spiritual type," he said. "You do realize it's just a monument, right?" he asked, an eyebrow raised. "It doesn't have any supernatural powers."

  "Yeah," Bryce said with a hint of sheepishness. "I–I just figured that maybe it would help."

  "Did it?"

  "I don't know," Bryce said uncertainly. "I mean, the idea of getting some land and planting trees came to mind. There are an awful lot of answers I don't have, though."

  Charles's face brightened. "I've been thinking the same thing!" he said.

  "Really?" Bryce asked, smiling. "I thought I was crazy for thinking it."

  Charles chuckled. "After what we've seen, I'll bet we're both a little crazy," he replied.

  "I was thinking through it, but there are some things I just can't figure out," Bryce said. "I mean, what about taxes? How would we pay them if we're not making any income?"

  Charles shook his head. "It took the centaurs centuries to get to where they wanted to be," he said. "I think you're trying to start out too big." Bryce gave him a puzzled look. "What if we continued to live here and plant here?"

  Bryce's face lit up with understanding. "Oh!" he said.

  Charles nodded. "There's no hurry to do anything," he said. "We already have a little bit of land here. We plant a tree here, a vine there, and eventually, we'll get there. You don't have to stop working or cease your studies. As time goes by, we'll be self-sufficient."

  "That's so much easier than I was thinking, Grandpa!" Bryce said enthusiastically.

  "Remember, Bryce: more does not guarantee happiness–"

  "It only complicates your life," they chorused.

  "Can we afford it?" Bryce asked.

  "If we take it slowly, absolutely," Charles replied. "A tree costs £50-£60. It's pricey, but if we're careful, we can do it."

  It was with great excitement the next day that the two went to several nurseries and looked at all of the fruit trees available. They finally settled on a little apple tree. The nursery threw in a mate to it for free, and they carefully lashed them down to the car to drive them home. They planted them a little ways from the door so that they wouldn't hit the house when they grew big.

  The two stood looking at their work, and Charles put a hand on Bryce's shoulder.

  "Baby steps," he said proudly. "These little trees are a big step for us."

  Bryce nodded. "I hope they produce," he said.

  "Give it time, Bryce," Charles said thoughtfully. "We'll take care of them and see what happens. Life is joyous. In the meantime, we have a colorful addition to the landscape," he said, smiling.

  Bryce nodded, and he, too, smiled. His grandfather was right: the trees did look beautiful, and they smelled nice, too.

  Although they still missed the centaurs, their lives improved with the knowledge that they were taking steps to make things better. Bryce's enthusiasm returned at Stonehenge. After all, whether built by mankind as a burial ground or for religious rites, or by centaurs as a big piece of art celebrating life, it was magnificent to behold, and he rediscovered the joy in it. His interest in archaeology didn't dwindle; in fact, he hoped that one day, he would be able to find evidence of the centaurs' involvement in the monument's construction. His relationship with Sheila didn't suffer. He acknowledged that she wouldn't believe him, and he didn't bring it up again. Things returned mostly to normal, save for the occasional pang in Bryce's and Charles's chests.

  Chapter 26

  As summer ended, it was coming time for Bryce to go back to university. He put in his notice at work and worked his final two weeks for the summer. On his last day, he decided to visit the stones one last time. It was dark, and as he sat among them and felt the cool breeze blow by, signaling the beginning of autumn, he felt a calmness he'd never felt at the stones. Even at his last visit, while the stones had seemed calm, he had not. Now, he felt peaceful and even excited about the future.

  "Okay, guys," Bryce said to the stones. "Or ladies," he added, momentarily puzzling over whether rocks were male or female before shrugging it off. "Today's my last day and all, and, well, I just wanted to thank you." He chuckled. "It's been a crazy summer, hasn't it? I mean, centaurs and planting things and a new job and a new outlook on life. Just crazy." He trailed off, sitting silently thoughtful for a moment. "I'm sure you know that I'd love to see Anul'thek again," he said, "but I won't hold you to it." A meteor flew by overhead, and he shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Was that for me?" he asked the stones. "All right, I'll b
ite." He wished on the meteor just as he always had and then got to his feet. Part of him really wanted to pat the stones, but he resisted, patting the air a distance from them instead. "See you next year," he told them as he turned to leave.

  Another meteor appeared in the sky and got brighter and brighter. He squinted at it, shaking his head. It continued to get brighter and bigger. Bryce looked around and rolled behind one of the stones as the blinding light sailed silently past him mere feet away. He got back to his feet quickly. Could it be?