by Jack Doe
"Why me?" Clarissa asked.
Bryce gave a wry grin. "I thought you'd like to see it," he said. She looked at him disbelievingly. "All right, all right," Bryce added, "I kinda hoped you'd like it enough to stay."
Clarissa gave him a shocked look. "Stay? Me? Here?"
Bryce nodded. "We're trying to expand," he said, "hoping to spread the word very slowly and carefully to maybe prepare mankind for the centaurs' return."
"Their return?" Clarissa asked, amazed.
Bryce exhaled through puffed cheeks. "It's a long story," he said.
Clarissa shrugged. "I don't have anywhere I have to be," she replied.
"Okay," Bryce said. Over the next two hours, the four told her how their lives had all changed so drastically in the last few years. Clarissa sat in stunned silence at the end.
"And so," Bryce said, "we're hoping to recruit people to join us, people who believe the way we believe."
"But I don't–" Clarissa started to protest.
"We know that you don't understand all of it right now," Bryce said. "But I think you can learn." Clarissa nodded.
"There's just one thing that's really important for now," Charles chimed in. "Not a word to anybody else. We're trusting you with this; these two are literally the only centaurs to set foot on Earth in thousands of years, and you know what people would do to them if they found out."
Clarissa swallowed. She didn't know, but she could imagine. She nodded agreement.
"Good," Charles said kindly. "You don't have to decide right now, and Lord knows, it's a lot to take in. But if you decide you want to join us, you're more than welcome."
"Do I have to be naked?" Clarissa asked. The other four chuckled.
"Centaurs do not wear clothes," Ala'ni said. "Neither do Bryce and Charles. You don't have to wear clothes if you don't want to, but if you want to, that's also fine."
"And the sex?" Clarissa asked, her face inscrutable. The four exchanged knowing glances.
"As much as you want and not a bit you don't want," Anul'thek grinned. "In centaur custom, it's up to the mare to approach the stallion. If you don't approach, we won't push you."
Clarissa wrapped a lock of her hair around her finger thoughtfully, nodding. "I'll think about it," she said at last, and she stood to leave. There were embraces all around, and she drove away.
"You think we'll see her again?" Bryce asked.
"Dunno, kiddo," Charles replied.
Chapter 27
A few days later, Clarissa's car appeared in the driveway, and she knocked on the door to the house. Nobody answered, and so she knocked on the gate. The four stirred, looking bleary-eyed at each other. They'd been up late enjoying the full moon, and they hadn't expected company. Bryce mumbled a "coming" and made his way into the house, fumbled for some clothes, and finally went to the door.
"Clarissa!" he said, brightening when he saw her. "You're back!"
"Yeah," she said. "I–I want to do it."
"You do?" Bryce asked excitedly. "Come in, come in!" He let her into the house, and then took her out to the garden. "Guys!" he called. "She's going to join us!" The others cheered, and Clarissa blushed in embarrassment.
"Is there some kind of initiation?" she asked nervously. The others glanced at each other and grinned wickedly.
"Oh, the worst kind!" Bryce said, feigning a menacing tone.
"We'll drink your blood and mate in puddles of it!" Ala'ni said, holding her hands over her head like a ghoul.
"Dear!" Charles cried incredulously, and Ala'ni gave a sheepish grin. "What? I'm kidding!" she said.
"She's as bad as you, Grandpa!" Bryce needled.
"Aww," Charles replied.
"No, seriously," Bryce said to Clarissa, "the only rites we have are that you agree to our rules."
"And those are?" Clarissa asked nervously.
"We never harm anyone, if we can help it. That means humans and centaurs, and we're not cruel to animals," Bryce said.
"Everyone helps plant, and everyone helps harvest," Charles added.
"Remember that happiness comes from within," Anul'thek said solemnly.
"More does not make you happier; it only complicates your life," Ala'ni chimed in.
"And life is joyous," the four chorused.
"But..." Clarissa said, puzzled, "only the first two of those sounded like rules."
"We call them maxims," Anul'thek said.
"Yeah, 'rules' was probably a bad word for it," Bryce admitted.
"Well, that sounds easy enough," Clarissa said. "What's the catch?"
"The catch," Ala'ni said, "is that if you break the first rule, we kill you on the spot."
"Yeah, right!" Clarissa said, laughing, but the serious faces of the four in front of her stopped her. "You're serious?" she asked, her eyes widening.
"We do not tolerate willful harm done to others," Charles said. "We all know that accidents happen. That's not what we're talking about. But when someone deliberately tries to harm someone else, we have no tolerance."
Clarissa swallowed. "Wow, that's pretty serious," she said. "Anything else?"
"Anyone who tries to avoid planting or harvesting, we exile," Bryce added.
"Geez, you are severe!" Clarissa said emphatically.
"Those are the rules, er, maxims," Charles said. "'Rules' really does come easier to the tongue," he said, and Bryce nodded.
"Anything else?" Clarissa asked. She didn't think she'd deliberately go out of her way to harm someone else, and she figured she could help plant and harvest.
"We have sex—a lot," Charles mused. "You'd have to be okay with that."
"Do I have to participate?" Clarissa asked, alarmed.
"Not if you don't want to," Ala'ni said. Clarissa looked relieved.
"Other than that and the fact that we don't wear clothes, that's it," Bryce said.
"No requirement to put out?" Clarissa asked, relieved.
Anul'thek shook his head. "No, I told you before: you make the moves; we won't push you."
"And how would I make a move?" Clarissa challenged.
Anul'thek smiled knowingly. Clarissa wasn't fooling him.
"Like this," he said, stroking Bryce's belly with his fingertips. Bryce gave him a look, and Anul'thek turned and presented himself. As Bryce doffed his clothes and entered the centaur, Charles and Ala'ni turned to look at Clarissa, who was gaping.
"It happens a lot," Charles reiterated. "If it will be uncomfortable for you, then you might want to reconsider."
Clarissa wasn't listening. The unbridled passion that the two lovers shared was palpable, like the heat from a space heater a few feet away. It excited her. Her ex-husband had never shown any passion for anything. This was some kind of celebration, it seemed.
"Of life," Ala'ni said, seeming to read her mind. Clarissa turned to face her with a look of wonder. "It's a celebration of life," Ala'ni said. "We are so happy to be alive and so joyful to get to share it with each other that it affects almost everything we do. I'm sure that when you saw Bryce the other day, he looked much happier than you've ever seen him?"
Clarissa nodded. "I thought it was just my imagination," she said, and Charles shook his head.
"He took a long time to come around," Charles said. "It was very hard for him to let go and stop second-guessing things so much. But he did it," Charles said encouragingly, "and so can you."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Clarissa asked, on the verge of being insulted.
"It means," Ala'ni replied gently, "that you are much like Bryce was: you think too much."
"How do you know?" Clarissa asked, a little less tensely.
"We can tell from your questions and your body language. We all know that you like Bryce. Even he knows it."
"He didn't say anything..." Clarissa said uncertainly.
"It wasn't his place to," Charles said. "We take accountability very seriously. If you like him, it's your place to tell him so, not his place to guess it."
Clarissa nodded. "Bu
t what about him and Anul'thek?" she asked.
"I doubt you'll ever pry the two apart," Charles said knowingly. "And I strongly suggest that you not try. That said, we are promiscuous, or would be, given the numbers to do so. Bryce and Anul'thek have already addressed jealousy, and they know where they stand."
"He's a lot of fun, once he finally quit overthinking it," Ala'ni said with a devilish grin. Clarissa gaped, but Ala'ni continued unabashedly, "Charles and I have had no jealousy since we met, but we like each other's company very much. You'd not pry us apart, either, but we do all have a good time."
"But what if I want more than that?" Clarissa asked. "What if I want more than just a good time?"
Charles nodded. "It's a drawback of us being so small in number," he said regretfully. "Unfortunately, I don't have an answer right now. It's up to you to decide if it's worth it."
"And don't think that we won't care about you," Ala'ni added. "Already we're excited to think you'll join us."
"Yeah, it's not like we're going to use you and then leave you," Bryce said as he and Anul'thek rejoined the group. The two were dripping wet from having rinsed off in one of the streams.
"That was...really hot," Clarissa said. Bryce and Anul'thek grinned and exchanged glances.
"Nothing says you have to stay, either," Charles said, redirecting the conversation. "As long as you don't reveal the centaurs, you're free to go if it doesn't work out for you."
"Yeah," Bryce nodded. "We're here to pursue joy, not to lock you into something you'll hate."
Clarissa nodded and took a breath. Facing the group assertively, she said, "All right, I'm in. Do I sign something?"
The others exchanged glances and laughed.
"Nope, now we crack open the wine!" Charles said, gleefully going inside to fetch glasses.
Chapter 28
By the time Charles celebrated his 80th birthday, the group's numbers had grown to thirty. As people joined, they pooled their resources to increase the size of the land. From an original two acres, the land had grown to almost 20, and every spring, they planted new trees. Grapevines grew along the insides of the hedgerows, and the streams grew larger to support the growing property. Money saved had gone to pay for utilities and taxes, and the place was essentially self-sufficient. One of the people that joined happened to be passionate about making fabric, and when a shepherd joined the group bringing a few sheep with him, she taught the others to knit blankets, which they used in the wintertime. The house was eventually torn down to make way for more garden, and the tall bushes and the trees sheltered them from the wind and rain. When it got cold, the group huddled together under their blankets and stayed surprisingly warm. It almost never got hot under the canopy of the trees, but the streams made it easy to cool off.
It was a nice summer day when Charles passed away. He was 98. The group's numbers had grown to nearly a thousand, and everyone had come to venerate him as the one who had made it possible. Ala'ni and Bryce were both very sad, but they reminded each other that life was joyous, and they had indeed shared many, many joyous decades with him. Even up until his death, Charles had remained ever-optimistic, ever ready to try something new, and always a voice of reason and compassion. Even as their group had suffered setbacks from infighting and misunderstandings, he had quietly helped the group to remember to love one another and love life.
On his deathbed, Charles held his loved ones close, and he had many. His love for Ala'ni had never waned; on the contrary, as the years passed, he loved her more every day. The same was true for Bryce. Charles watched his grandson grow from just a boy all those years ago to a high-strung teenager, to a stable, thoughtful, kind and fair adult and beloved father and grandfather in his own right. Things were not quite where they had been onboard that ship that fateful day 33 years ago, but they were so very far along: children learned from their elders, and the variety of knowledge and lust for life had increased greatly. The tiny farm was now almost a square mile, and everybody lived well. As he looked out over his loved ones, he could not help but feel deep satisfaction with how his life had gone. Never could he have asked for a better life, and he was grateful every day for it.
"Ala'ni, Bryce," he said to them, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Yes, Grandpa?" Bryce asked, his voice choked.
"I love you both very much," his grandfather answered. "I love you all. You are all my joy. Lead them well, and keep doing what you're doing. Life is joyous."
"Yes, it is," Bryce and Ala'ni chorused, and with a smile, Charles breathed his last.
"Do we–do we bury him?" Bryce asked Anul'thek, who nodded. They buried Charles beneath the park bench, now old itself and worn from years of people sitting, standing, and playing on it. It seemed right that Charles, the foundation of the family, would be buried in such a central location.
Ala'ni handled her widowed life well. Always she was a kind motherly figure, and as she always had been, very lusty. She and Anul'thek had several foals of their own, and they begat foals in time. As this small pocket of mankind and centaurs interacted, their care for each other grew even to exceed the centaurs' fantasies.
By the time Bryce was in his nineties, the group had grown to almost half a million, yet the centaurs still remained quietly hidden. Somehow, people's love for the life they lived kept them contented and happy, and none wanted to leave.
"Anul'thek," Bryce said to his lifetime lover on his deathbed at 104, "I am sorry to leave you."
"It's part of life," Anul'thek replied sadly. "You have lived a long, joyous life, my friend. I knew this was part of it when I returned, and even now, I would not change my decision for anything."
Bryce nodded, his breathing labored. "Anul'thek," he said.
"Yes, Bryce?"
"I–" Bryce gasped. His heart had stopped. As Anul'thek put his hand on his friend's chest, Bryce managed to whisper, "love you," and Anul'thek wept.
They buried him alongside his grandfather.
Epilogue
"Do you think it's real, Grandma?" Bree asked, her eyes wide with wonder. "Will we finally get to meet the centaurs?"
"Child, you've already met the centaurs!" Judith exclaimed. "Just yesterday, you and Aith'ewy were playing together!"
Bree shook her head. "No, Grandma, I meant all of the other centaurs. You know, like the ones in your stories, the ones who came back a long time ago."
"I think so," Judith replied, her eyes sparkling with hope. "The world is a much better place now than it was back then," she said, thinking of the last two millennia of wars, of her ancestors being persecuted for their beliefs, of their steadfast fight for a life worth living, and of the peace that had ensued afterwards.
"Don't worry too much about it, though," she said to her granddaughter, bundling her up in a knitted blanket against the chill of the winter night's air. "After all, life is joyous, even if we haven't met them, yet." She began to hum a song, one that mankind had forgotten long, long ago but had been taught again. A meteor flew by high overhead. She wished on it, the same wish she always had. Another one appeared, and another.
She ran barefoot swiftly over the soft grass to a hill overlooking the valley below her. With the full moon as the backdrop, she saw dozens of centaurs getting to their feet. She ran to them and embraced them. Amazed, they grinned and embraced back.
"Welcome, brothers. Welcome, sisters," she cried, tears streaming down her face. A cry went up, and the centaurs burst into song. The thunder of hooves and claps of hands awoke mankind, and every man knew that it was time at last. As a huge ship landed in the Atlantic and centaurs streamed forth to three continents, the world rejoiced.
Judith raced back to her granddaughter, who had awoken when the song started.
"What do you think, Bree?" Judith asked, hugging her granddaughter.
To the sound of hoofbeats, feet stomping, hands clapping, and mankind and centaurs singing out at their reunion, her granddaughter beamed, "Life is joyous."
Jack Doe, Human-Centaur Relations