I hang up the call and give Ravok a happy grin. I don’t want to get my hopes up too high. What are the odds that the local hardware store in this tiny town happens to have what we need in stock?
Ravok’s smile is wide and his eyes almost seem to brighten with hope. As I look at him, a worry pops into my head.
“Ravok,” I venture, trying to find the right words, “I think you need to look at these batteries before I buy them. So, you should come into town with me. But that means we’ll need to disguise you somehow.” His white eyes glance down at his metallic-looking skin, intense luminescence piercing through the semi-darkness of the cabin. There’s nothing human about him.
“That store owner, Anton, mentioned the seafood festival,” I continue, striding over to sit on the edge of the sofa, chewing on a nail in thought.
“I mean, with the town swarming with tourists and locals, we might blend in easier. Plus, people will be busy eating and drinking,” I explain, watching his reaction. The thought of him even setting foot in town is a wild idea.
I take a deep breath and then exhale, tugging at the hem of my shirt nervously. My mind whirs with ideas on how to hide an enormous alien in plain sight.
“But….” I hesitate, unable to meet his piercing gaze, and then continue, “Your skin… it’s not exactly subtle. We’d need to disguise it or cover it up… somehow.”
CHAPTER 43
Ravok
Leelee’s plan to cover up my ‘alienness’ is to have me wear the same clothes she’s already provided me, but I’ll keep the hood on the shirt flipped up, covering my head. She also hands me eyewear with dark lenses to hide my eyes.
I look over the items with concern. I don’t believe this is enough to create an adequate disguise.
Leelee must automatically come to the same conclusion because she grabs her first aid kit and starts searching its contents while mumbling.
With a triumphant look, she pulls out a medical face cover and a thin pair of gloves. “I think these should be enough, as long as you keep your hoodie up and don’t get too close to anyone.”
Nodding, I flip up the hoodie, feeling the soft fabric against my scalp. I take the gloves and face covering and put them in my pocket to put on when we leave. I’m still uncertain whether this will be adequate, but I am hopeful. If this is what it takes to blend in, so be it.
“Here’s what we’ll do. If anyone gets too close to you or starts acting suspicious, we’ll announce that you’re wearing the face mask because you have a terrible cold and are afraid of spreading it. Then you’ll start coughing really loud. That should send them running.”
“If you think it’ll work, that’s what I’ll do. I will try to keep away from people and keep my head down,” I state, hunching my shoulders and hiding my face to demonstrate.
“If push comes to shove, we’ll just leave town. We can hide your ship in the woods and then make a run for it. I’ll get my car back while we’re in town so we can just hit the road and head to Aunt Zizi’s house. We can come back for your ship once the dust settles.”
Leelee stares at my feet with a worried look. “Hopefully, no one notices that you don’t have shoes.”
With that decided, I follow Leelee outside and get into the vehicle’s passenger seat. I must be getting used to how primitive everything on this planet is because the state of the ancient vehicle doesn’t even phase me anymore. I’m just happy to be with my Leelee.
Watching Leelee maneuver this ‘car’ is a curiosity. I find it fascinating to watch how efficiently she maneuvers the large machine. There’s no holographic interface, no voice guidance, just these oddly shaped levers and a wheel. The vehicle is archaic compared to Cryzor technology, it is a boxy metal beast that’s herded with both hands and feet. The array of dials and buttons dotting the console resembles nothing of the sophisticated mechanisms on my ship.
As the scenery zips by, bathing us in alternating bouts of shadow and sunlight, Leelee reaches over to the console and pushes a button. Screeching noises ring through the interior of the vehicle. I flinch at the racket as Leelee reduces the volume with an apologetic grimace.
Upon noting my confounded expression, Leelee’s lips curl into a reassuring smile. “It’s alright, it’s just music,” she explains. Her hazel eyes gleam with amusement and curiosity, reminding me of the vast gulf of cultural knowledge between us. “Humans love music; we find joy in it,” she elaborates. “We love to sing and dance. We have a vast variety of music. We can check out a couple of genres and see if we can find you something you like. You’ll see.”
“Music,” I echo her, the foreign word strange and heavy on my tongue. She nods enthusiastically and turns up the volume of the sounds, but not quite to their former levels. It sounds as if the air itself is in distress, but she sways in her seat, her eyes twinkling with enjoyment.
She calls it an ‘oldie’, her soft voice matching the rhythm of the melancholic tune floating around us. Her voice dances with the whirring melody, a story in tones about a man intending to abandon his lover. The song’s subject matter should be sad, but the words seem humorous instead. I may not fully comprehend human music, but seeing her joy, I think, perhaps, I can come to appreciate it.
Next, Leelee switches to a different genre she calls ‘rock’. It is nothing but screeching noise piled on top of a thumping rhythm. I suddenly miss the oldie song.
As we approach the town, Leelee instructs me to put on the darkened eyewear, the ‘sunglasses’ as she calls them. She suggests I wait to put on the gloves until the last moment because they can get hot.
Once I don the sunglasses, I put on the paper mask, which covers my nose and mouth. Next, I tighten the strings on my hood so that my neck and much of my face are covered in fabric. I glance at Leelee for approval of my ‘disguise’. The sunglasses are slightly too small for my head, uncomfortably pinching the skin above my ears. That, in addition to the face covering and the tightened hood, makes me feel slightly smothered and overheated, but it is worth it to keep us both safe from discovery.
The human town comes into view as Leelee turns a corner. A panorama of human life unfurls before my eyes as I stare mesmerized out of the car’s window. I am used to tall, soaring buildings made of glass and gleaming metals. What I see before me are squat structures that are only a few stories tall and made from stone, wood, and bricks instead. I try to take in every detail, interested in seeing Leelee’s people in their natural habitat. On one side of the vehicle, the ground gives way to a body of water. Dozens of boats are tied to wooden platforms that hover over the water’s surface, each gently bobbing at their mooring. I watch as a white and gray bird lands on a thick wooden post, calling out a plaintive cry before immediately taking off again.
“Leelee,” I begin cautiously as she maneuvers the vehicle into a lot with a small building. She pulls the truck to a stand-alone area that is mostly just a roof on poles. “Is this the mechanics shop?” I ask. Based on her earlier description, I pictured a place that looked different. When Leelee shakes her head, I ask, “What is this place?”
She grins, her eyes once again on the road ahead, “This, big guy, is a gas station.”
Ah, I understand, it’s a fueling station. When we were researching car batteries, I learned that Earth vehicles run on liquid fuel that humans extract from the ground. Such a primitive, inefficient energy source.
Leelee stops the vehicle next to a metal box under the roofed area. A thick tube is affixed to it. Once the truck is turned off, she gets out and smoothly takes the tube, inserting its end into the car’s side. I watch, captivated by the whole process.
A nauseating scent fills the air; the strong smell of the ‘gas’ makes my nose burn. I glance at Leelee, but she seems unaffected. Is this just another norm for humans? Comforted by the sight of her unconcerned expression, I keep silent, my gaze returning to the gas station in its entirety.
Soon, there is a soft click, and she pulls out the tube, returning it to the metal stand. We soon pull away, returning to the street, leaving the odd-smelling place behind.
Leelee waits for an opening and then pulls the car into the traffic, crowding the town’s main thoroughfare. Dozens of human vehicles in a myriad of colors zip hastily up and down the paved asphalt. Their movement, though chaotic, follows a certain logic.
I gaze upon the throngs of humans engaged in what Leelee called a ‘festival’, their voices rising and falling like ocean waves under a midday sun. The air is filled with animated conversations, ties of friendship, familial bonds, and laughter echoing with genuine delight. A grassy area is covered in decorated stalls in a rainbow of vibrant hues. It is joy-filled, milling chaos.
So many younglings, running free and unrestrained. It boggles my mind. Shouldn’t they be in their training pods learning their trade? Their laughter and freedom spear me with a strange, unnamed emotion, making my throat tight and hot.
I stare at a male and female strolling down a walkway, each one holding the hand of a tiny female child. Together, they swing the child up, high into the air as the child kicks her legs in joy and squeals in delight. We drive so near that I can hear the child crying out ‘again’ as soon as her feet once again touch the ground. I realize that I am fully turned in my seat, staring out the back of the vehicle’s back window, trying to keep threesome in view as Leelee takes a turn and they disappear from view.
I… I don’t know what to think. My feelings are so twisted up inside me that I can’t tell if I am curious or angry or even… jealous? My childhood was so different as to be completely unrecognizable from that interaction I just witnessed. A big part of me wants to demand to be taken back to the cabin – that I need time to process and think about why that interaction bothers me so much. However, I know that it is a silly urge and that we have much to accomplish today. I push my strange feelings away, packing them up to examine later when alone.
