4. Phoebe
4
PHOEBE
H is bed is surprisingly comfortable. I’ve not slept in a bed since we left the bunker. I don’t know how long ago that was but it has to be closing in on a year. The Cavern Zmaj sleep on stone cushioned by these thin mattresses filled with a straw-like material. They’re okay, but nothing compared to this. His bed feels as if it’s filled with downy feathers or something similar.
Since coming to the Urr’ki city I’d been sleeping on Kintos’ couch and was perfectly fine to do so here with Vapas but yeah. He was very insistent. I roll onto my back and stretch. The soft mattress conforms to my body and even the blankets are thick and warm. Wonderful.
I slip out from underneath them and sit on the edge of the bed. I put my shoes on then fix the bed, squaring up the blankets and pulling them tight. Satisfied it looks good, I make my way down the stairs. Half-way down, I hear a loud rumble and my stomach drops as I freeze in place. What could cause such a noise?
Cold chills race over my limbs but there isn’t any better option then to keep moving forward. Coming to a decision, I make my way ahead, albeit slowly. The noise comes again. It sounds like the rumbling of the trash compactors back on the ship. Those were massive. Designed to handle tons of trash at a time that it would compress into bales which would then go to an incinerator for recycling.
I tiptoe down one step after the next. The noise happens twice more before I reach the lowest stair, but this last time it makes sense. Vapas is on the couch but he doesn’t fit. One arm is over his head, the other is lying over a coffee table. His legs hang off the end of the couch from the knees on.
And he’s the source of the sound. As my feet touch the final step it comes again, but now I can see his entire body arcing with it. His back arches, he tosses his head from one side to the other and then, as if he’s blowing out some blockage, it rumbles out. His inhale is ragged and raspy then settles and there is silence for a time.
I blink rapidly, biting my lip. I have the strongest urge to laugh. It’s not funny, I know. He’s clearly uncomfortable but the way he’s sprawled over the couch with a blanket lying on his midsection makes him look like he’s trying to sleep on a child’s toy. As if perhaps he got drunk and passed out in a kids bedroom.
It’s incongruous enough to hit my funny bone. My general stress level doesn’t help. I’m freaked out enough that it feels as if I’m dancing on the edge of a full on nervous breakdown.
Maybe I should throw myself over that cliff. I’ve heard that if you completely lose it you don’t worry anymore. If everything is funny, how worried can you be? Not much Phoebs, not much at all.
Vapas has been nothing but nice to me and there is no way I’m going to laugh at him. Or let myself go mad, at least right now, because he’d have to deal with that too. That’s not fair to him and no matter what, I do have a sense of what’s right and wrong still.
All of which leaves me with one burning question. What now? He’s asleep and I don’t want to wake him up. I also don’t have anything to do. We haven’t had vids since the crash. Back home, with the Zmaj, I’d hang out with my roommates or friends. We’d talk, play cards with our makeshift set of them, or find some other way to pass the time. If I was absolutely bored I’d clean.
Cleaning has possibilities but Vapas keeps a neat home. Looking around from my perch here on the stairs I can’t spot even a speck of dust. My belly gently rumbles, wanting breakfast. That’s something I could do. If I move carefully I can be quiet.
I tip toe my way to the kitchen. Kinto didn’t let me cook or do much of anything really. Kinto did his best to pretend I wasn’t there at all, but I watched and saw how the equipment works. Giving credit where credit is due, at least Vapas has acknowledged I’m here.
He stood up to them. For me.
That’s more than anyone has done since I got here. My heart beats a little faster as I remember him quietly defying the Maulavi. Is he a good one? A good man, or alien, or whatever?
Despite the layout being more or less the same, he doesn’t keep everything in the same place as Kinto did. I am moving slow to try and be as quiet as possible. Finally I have a skillet and some food to cook in it.
I set to work. Warming oil in the skillet while I prep some vegetables. I find a refrigerator like thing that has a small chunk of meat in it. I don’t miss that there’s not a lot of supplies and am sparing in how much I prepare.
Once everything is prepped I throw the chopped veg into the hot oil. They sizzle as the oil pops and snaps. I sprinkle random spices while stirring it until the odd colored vegetables begin to crisp. Then I toss the bits of diced meat in with it.
The sizzling redoubles. I throw some more spice in and keep stirring while it cooks. It’s a comforting action. A normal one. So simple and mundane that I can forget, for the moment, how much danger I am in.
“Hmm,” Vapas rumbles.
“Gah!” I exclaim jumping.
He’s right behind me. I’d been so lost in my cooking and the normality of this that I didn’t hear or sense him approaching. He immediately steps back, raising his hands to show he means no threat.
“Sorry,” he says. His eyes are puffy and bleary. He has a deep frown on his face, turns his head, coughs twice and then looks back at me. “Food smells good.”
“Uh, yeah. Thank you. Sorry, you startled me.”
“Yes. Unintended,” he shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders.
The moment becomes awkward or already was and I only now become aware of it as the surprise fades leaving the two of us a few feet apart staring at each other. The sizzling sound and a hint of burning hits me.
“Shit,” I curse in Common and whirl back to the stove.
I stir the meat and veg medley quickly. A few pieces are darker than I’d like. Though I’d figured out how to use the equipment, my understanding was rudimentary. I have no clue how or if it’s possible to adjust the temperature. I can get it on and I can get it off. That’s the extent of my skill. Realizing the absurdity of the situation I snort.
Get it on but not get it off, like that’s not a metaphor.
“Help?” Vapas asks.
“Could you get some plates? Please?”
He doesn’t say anything but moves to the cabinet while I continue stirring. I pull the skillet off the direct heat, or at least I think I do. It continues to snap and pop as if the heat is still going so I’m not sure I have but I don’t want to put it on the cabinet without protection.
Vapas is at my side with the plates. And I’m suddenly very, very aware of him. His size, presence, and the smell of him fills my nose. It’s a pleasant, smokey, almost musky scent mixed with what I can only identify as hints of sandalwood but it’s not quite that.
He sets the plates onto the counter but doesn’t step away. And gods above help me, but I don’t want him to. Stupid, crazy, and absolutely insane because I don’t know this guy. We literally met last night. Sure, he saved me, or intervened, but one action isn’t enough to know a person.
I’m frozen. Thoughts crashing one into another. I keep stirring the medley but that’s an automatic motion. He rumbles and I blink. That rumble, it’s alien and distinctly an Urr’ki thing. Kintos did it too, though I never understood the why of it.
He reaches towards the handle of the skillet and for the briefest of instances his hand touches mine. That momentary contact ignites a brushfire. My skin flares and the heat of it races up my arm and right into my heart. My heart takes the heat like gasoline on a fire, going from resting rate to racing from one beat to the next.
My stomach flips and then drops, leaving butterflies dancing in its former place. My throat and mouth are dry. So are my eyes. I blink rapidly then he jerks his hand back and away.
“Sorry,” he says as he steps back.
I’m left hanging on the space where he was. Strangely, because this shouldn’t be possible, the emptiness aches. It’s a void that I want filled. Filled with him.
Knock it off.
Shaking myself, I lift the skillet and scrape a large portion of the food onto a plate. I set the skillet down, move the plate off the other one, then repeat the process. I give myself a much smaller portion, assuming he’d want more. He’s a huge guy after all. I grab up the plate and turn.
It’s a stress reaction. I’ve been under too much for too long. Of course I’m latching onto the first person who’s done anything even resembling kindness. It’s nothing.
Yet he’s there. Big. Solid. And yes, dark green with tusks and long, coarse hair bound in bangles. But his eyes. There is kindness in those eyes. Understanding even, that I don’t think I’ve ever seen in any human man’s eyes.
My heart skips. The plates are suddenly heavier. A tremble rushes through my arms, hitting me in the chest. My breath hitches. He blinks. A tremor passes over his lips and then he steps forward taking the plates.
He sets them on the table, putting his on the far side and mine closer. That’s not the normal positions we’ve been doing. He did that for me. So I wouldn’t have to move around him.
Oh Vapas…