My people, the Cryzorians, are different, more so than just our physical differences apparently. My world is monochrome; everything is executed in a rigorous order. My people could never imagine such a spectacle. I can hardly believe it myself, and I’m witnessing it firsthand. My reserved people who revere disciplined silence and strict emotional regulation wouldn’t even know what to think if they saw a human festival.
It’s such a dazzling celebration filled with laughter, happiness, and color – it’s bizarre, disconcerting even. Yet somewhere deep within the recesses of my being, I find myself intrigued, ensnared by the spectacle unfolding. This planet, this… Earth. It’s so alien, so strange and different, and yet… Layer upon layer, it peels away my preconceived notions, gnawing at the cornerstones of my ingrained beliefs. It is a curious planet that I think I will miss. Not nearly as much as Leelee, but still… I will miss this eye-opening place.
Leelee drives a block past the pulsating heart of the celebration. Glancing back, I can still spy the celebration from a distance.
“Okay, there’s the mechanic’s shop,” Leelee announces, pulling me out of my thoughts and pointing to a building coming up on our right.
The bricked structure of the vehicle repair shop looks like someone ground grime and grease into its façade. Several doors, similar to the large door on the cabin’s garage, are propped open, each filled with a human car. Leelee steers the vehicle into a gravel-laden lot. I sense apprehension and anxiety emanating from her, and my body instinctively tenses when the vehicle comes to a halt.
Before I can unbuckle, however, Leelee cautions me with her careful voice. “Ravok, stay back here, okay? Or better still, out of sight.” I despise the thought of letting Leelee deal with this human ‘mechanic’ on her own. I plan to stay nearby but out of sight in case she needs me. Once I pull on the thin plastic gloves, we step out of the vehicle together and into the brisk air.
I keep back, staying by the truck’s back end, standing in a tree’s shadow in case any pedestrians happen to look my way. I watch Leelee as she walks towards the building. As she approaches a large man with enough gray facial hair that I can hardly see his human face walks out and calls a greeting. The man’s blue overalls have as much dirt ground into it that he matches his building.
I eavesdrop as they talk for a few minutes, mainly about the repairs the man performed on Leelee’s car. She thanks the man she calls Rog and shakes his hand. I growl that he dares to touch a precious female so informally, but then I remember that Leelee’s people have much different views on interacting with their females. I remind myself that the male isn’t disrespecting her. This is how humans interact. Giving the man a final thanks, she hands him the keys to the truck and receives her set in return.
Leelee extends her hand, shaking the hand of the bigger man once again before parting. I see her head towards a smaller, light-blue car parked in the lot’s far corner. My eyes drift back to the shop owner who disappears into the confines of his workshop.
Leelee circles the small vehicle, unlocking the vehicle’s door. She turns towards me, scanning the area before she waves me over. I quickly stride toward her as she gets into the driver’s seat. A moment later, the combustion engine inside the car roars to life. The gravel beneath my feet crunches as I race towards her, sliding into the passenger seat with a grace honed by years of training.
I look around the interior of the vehicle in curiosity.
This vehicle’s interior is much smaller than the car she had been using previously. And what little space there is, is filled with boxes and cases. I’m a bit worried that I will hit my head on the ceiling if she goes over any big bumps. However, I can tell immediately that this is Leelee’s vehicle. Her scent permeates the air inside the cramped quarters as if her very essence is soaked in the upholstery.
I watch as Leelee scans her eyes over the items stuffed into the small backseat of the vehicle, her hands gently tracing over the sealed flaps of cardboard.
When she catches me watching, she explains, “I’m moving to my Aunt Zizi’s house. So, I had to bring everything I owned.” For reasons I cannot understand, Leelee seems embarrassed by this confession – whether it is her belongings or her move, I don’t know.
I don’t respond because I’d rather not add to Leelee’s discomfort. I wholeheartedly believe she deserves all the riches the universe can provide, so this collection seems meager. However, I own even less than she does and can give her nothing. I swallow thickly at the thought that all Leelee will have of me when I leave is memories. Perhaps… perhaps I can figure out a way to rectify this.
I watch her look over her items as if taking a quick inventory. “I’m so glad the mechanic cleaned all the broken glass! I’d hate to have to deal with it.”
After ensuring her belongings are secure and won’t slide or tumble, Leelee starts the vehicle and once again pulls out into traffic.
Leelee turns back toward the festival. I’m pleased because I’d like to examine the celebration further.
As we approach, I lean closer to the slightly opened window, inhaling a medley of scents. There’s a unique aromatic blend in the air: sweet, smoky, salty, and other nuances beyond my ability to describe. Sensing my curiosity, Leelee explains it’s a food festival, and she further elaborates there is a contest for foods dedicated to love. The mere idea seems ludicrous, associating sustenance with such a subjective human emotion.
Leelee turns the vehicle into a marked slot before a building that I assume is the ‘hardware’ store.
Although it is not as crowded here, people are still wandering around and talking amongst themselves.
A frown creases Leelee’s forehead as she stares at the building.
“Alright, Ravok,” she murmurs. I’ll go in first. You need to stay behind me so no one inside can see you. Keep your head down. Depending on where the shop owner or any customers are, you need to try to avoid them.” I give her a firm nod, acknowledging her instructions. I am unsure of whether this plan is genuinely viable; however, I cannot think of a better one, and I trust Leelee.
“No worries, Leelee.” I gently assure her. A surge of protectiveness washes over me. She turns towards me, worry etched onto her face. Her gaze searches my face as if seeking more assurance. I wish I weren’t covered in my disguise so that I could let her see that I am confident in her plan. As her eyes travel over my mask-covered face, I mime a relaxed stance, dropping my shoulders. Leelee takes a deep breath and then nods her head. She scans the walkway before the store.
“Good. No one is outside, so we don’t have to worry about pedestrians yet. Okay, let’s do this.” Leelee gets out of the car, strides to the front of the vehicle, and waits for me. Taking a deep breath, I step out of the vehicle’s shelter. I glance into the front window and feel a sense of relief; the hardware store appears mostly empty.
I quickly join Leelee and get behind her as instructed – not that I mind being forced into proximity with my Leelee. I stay close to her heels, hunching my shoulders to appear smaller as I follow her to the store’s entrance. “I’ll distract the owner, Ravok. You find the batteries.”
I dismiss the anxiety gnawing at me. With a last look around the surrounding area, Leelee opens the door. On hearing a bell ring overhead, I nearly falter but swiftly rein in my composure. My nerves, albeit well concealed, are rattling inside my body. The thought of being caught and returned to the human facility is unacceptable. No matter what happens, I refuse to be returned to my captors.
The smell of this place reminds me of the garage before Leelee cleaned it – dust, old oil, oxidized metal, and petroleum-based rubber.
A thick-set man with a mane of shaggy reddish-gray hair stuffed under a brimmed hat emerges through a door behind the counter, greeting us. I am unsure of the human aging process but the creases and lines on his face, plus the silvering of his hair and beard, make me believe he is at least twice Leelee’s age.
His eyes lazily shift to me, studying my form with an intensity that breeds discomfort. Suppressing my innate reaction to check that my mask and sunglasses are secure, I press my lips into a tight line, turning away and heading to an aisle where I can keep an eye on Leelee while out of the store owner’s sightline.
“Hi, I’m Lily. I called earlier about some batteries.”
“Oh, yes. You talked to me – I’m Anton. I have your batteries right here. I put them out of the way under the counter for you.”
“Oh, thank you. I really appreciate it.”
With a grunt, the man places the first of the batteries on the counter.
As Anton bends down to grab the next battery, rummaging beneath the counter, I observe the way Leelee’s hazel eyes follow the movement, trust and relief imbued in her eyes. Once the man collects them all, almost a dozen heavy rectangular batteries line the counter.
“I need to finish working on my accounting, so I’ll leave you to look them over. Call out to me if you have any questions or are ready to check out, okay?”
“Yes, thank you, Anton. I appreciate it.”
When the store owner retreats into his office, Leelee turns to where I’m waiting and waves me over.
As we inspect the batteries Leelee has procured, I feel a stirring of hope.
“Look here, Ravok,” Leelee tells me, her voice soft within the hushed whispers of the store. As I pick up one of the heavy batteries, Leelee reads off the specifications listed on the side of another.
