Chapter 9
Ani
While being stuck up here, I’ve had some creative liberty to think about my next steps and have come up with…
nothing new. My choices are extremely limited to thinking I can jump out and swing from tree to tree like Tarzan or climb out and hang on to a tree while making a torturous descent. And most likely falling.
To make matters worse, I haven’t had anything to eat and my hands are shaking from a lot more than just fright.
Suddenly, I hear the sound of rustling and a high-pitched whistling sound just outside my pod.
Slowly raising my head, I come face to face with a giant, bright yellow and blue-speckled head.
I’m instantly screaming, but it doesn’t last long.
As I pant for breath, for a long slow moment I wonder why.
Perhaps it’s the wide look of its eyes or the strange stillness it has upon seeing me.
There’s something almost human in the intensity of its gaze, and the soft, bright-turquoise skin around its eyes makes it seem approachable. It helps that there are no visible teeth waiting to tear into me.
Seconds that seem like years pass as not a sound transpires between us. It gives me long enough to move past my initial enthrallment with just how gorgeous it is to wonder how the hell I am going to get away from it.
I heard somewhere that if you stay still enough you can get animals to leave you alone. Controlling my breathing as to not attract its interest, I keep my eye on the creature and slowly move my body toward the far edge of the pod.
Its eyes are mesmerizing. Big, and deep set under a long brow, with striations of blue and green, pupils slitted horizontally, like a mix of a goat and a cat.
Except its face is far more like a salamander than a mammal.
Except more pointed and sweeping up into a heavy ridge of a brow, so maybe more like a dinosaur…
except that doesn’t feel right either. I stop trying to make comparisons to things that probably don’t even exist here, and just soak in its features.
The feathers on its head shift and they catch my attention.
Mostly blue-green, but with some red feathers with orange tips mixed in, they rise slowly from a backswept mohawk, long feathers starting at the back of its smooth triangular shaped skull, the tip sweeping down slightly to a pointed nose, long slitted nostrils flaring and closing completely as if they are taking in my scent.
Odd, soft-looking dark-blue bumps start in the point between its two nostrils, interspersed along the top of its otherwise smooth skull.
Its lipless mouth is impossibly large and mostly a bright yellow that continues down the front of its long, thick neck until coming to a complimentary V shape at the base of its throat, giving way in large blotches to varying shades of cobalt blue before disappearing under the long sweep and fall of beautiful, shimmering feathers.
It almost looks like someone splattered two different shades of blue in big circles and then gave it turquoise eyeliner.
It cocks its head to the side upon seeing that I’ve moved just an inch, but it still doesn’t do anything.
I’m stuck and I don’t know if I’m about to be eaten or stored as extra nutrients in some alien larder.
It moves its head closer and opens its giant maw, rows of blue teeth littering the inside of its mouth, disabusing me of the notion that externally visible fangs meant I might be safe.
I’m about to be eaten.
An ugly, bitter life flashes before my eyes. I’m not going down without a fight.
That single thought causes me to do something I never would’ve thought to do in a million years.
I pull my head forward and belt out the loudest scream ever as I punch out my arms. Birds are very sensitive to sounds, something I found out when I tried to sing to them when I was young.
In my mind, it’s enough to scare him off.
All my scream does is make this creature more interested. It keeps staring at me with its unnerving eyes, no longer nearly as beautiful after seeing all of those teeth.
Then it slowly places a hand on the outside of my pod as if to steady it, my mind stuttering to see long sharp claws on impossibly long fingers.
Then another hand comes into view… and another.
I gulp. Three arms? A quick glance to where its long neck meets shoulder reveals it has a double set of upper limbs.
The lower set of arms and hands are thicker than the others, hands bigger and fingers longer. Fuck, I am so dead.
“Quiet better,” it sings to me over the ragged sound of my scream.
I abruptly cut off the end of it, dragging in a deep breath. Why the fuck can I understand it?
I really have to abandon the thought that logic works here. The horses galloping in my brain are more frantic than usual, with one thought in a continual loop.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, my mind chants until the more rational part of my mind takes back over and I gulp painfully, my throat searing with pain.
It seems like it wants to talk, not kill me, and my mouth opens and closes, my usual quick wit failing me. I have no frame of reference to work from. How do I act? What do I say?
What mask do I wear with a fucking alien?
I want to shut my eyes and look away from it but my body feels like iron; my knuckles creak painfully from how hard I am squeezing them and pressing my fists against my knees.
Another scream escapes, somehow carrying with it all of my confusion.
My lungs run out of energy before I can successfully scare it away and we are stuck in a staring match, my eyes wide with fear, faced with what I can swear is barefaced curiosity.
I do my best to look away from its eyes, but I can’t.
They are just as beguiling as the last time I got stuck staring into them.
The movement of feathers distracts me and I move my gaze to them as they sink down to a resting position, the shifting of them catching the iridescent reds, golds, teals, and deep blues.
The same mix of feathers lay along the outsides of its long, thick neck, almost like a cloak resting on its double jointed shoulders.
I gulp when my eyes rest on the sharp white claws at the ends of its long, thin fingers and I pull my gaze away before I think of them tearing into me.
The rest of its body is outside of my scope of view, and I can’t stop myself from thinking, what exactly is it? I want to ask, but there are even more pressing questions in the back of my muddled head.
“Do you… want eat me?”
Instead of talking in response, my words come out as a song, roughly translating into those words. My mouth clamps shut immediately after, my brain barely comprehending the absurdity of the situation.
The creature blinks and from the depths of its throat, a beautiful whistling flows out. The giant bird-like creature is… singing. But of course it is… It’s a damn bird! The question I have is… why can I understand what it’s saying?
“Is danger. You not sing of fear. Not so loud.”
Sing of fear? A long blink later and my mind starts up again.
It’s asking me not to scream. Rather, he. It’s a male, something about its voice tells me.
I know one can tell the difference between songbirds based on their mating calls, but I would’ve never imagined this happening in a million years.
His song is akin to a man speaking in a deep, melodious voice, the resonance somehow…
male. It’s quite unnerving how easily my brain interprets all this.
I try to respond but instead of words coming out, my throat feels as if I swallowed an entire glass cup but changed my mind and tried to spit it back up mid-swallow. My hands go to grab at my neck but the pain is gone as soon as it starts. What is going on?
“Here to eat?” I ask again, my melody shifting to rearrange the words in an attempt to have the question answered this time.
“No. Not that. Here to help,” he chirps back.
Help? It’s hard to believe that an alien wants to help me. Why would he do that when it’s entirely better to just make a meal of me and be done with it?
“Don’t believe,” I say, fiercely holding my ground, the Bitch slowly reasserting itself as my default mask.
He blinks and actually looks taken aback. Meanwhile, I’m trying to make sense of the fact that what I’m singing translates to actual words. Every note carries a different meaning, making for what would be incredibly broken English. If I weren’t so terrified, I would be impressed.
“Will not eat,” he sings. “Keep you safe, Ree say.”
“What?”
“Ree sister. Purple threads,” he says, using one of his many hands to gesture at his plumed head.
I still don’t get it, but I really don’t have any other choice but to reason with this creature. He huffs, air ruffling the feathers along the slides of his neck.
“Cannot leave. There danger,” he sings, and I can tell that he is serious about getting me down from the tree.
Part of me is tempted to go down with him but I have many reservations. My brain could be tricking me in desperation for companionship. If I go with him, the chance that I might just get passed off into a pot of stew is higher.
“What danger?”
With this language, getting information is hard. Each word feels like multiple lines of melody, making communication frustratingly slow. He might be my only chance of getting out of this tree but I need a lot more than a few broken sentences to convince me.
“Go, now!” he says, reaching for me. I dodge his advance and shoot him a glare. His forcefulness only elevates my doubts.
“I rescue from tree. Find sister. Explain,” he sings, and I can’t tell if his tone is patronizing or genuine.
I let out a long huff. It is definitely the latter, judging by the resonance, but I’m still utterly confused by this “sister” business.
Then I make the connection from the word threads. He means hair. Purple hair…
Why does this woman keep popping up? What is going on and why does he think we’re sisters?
“I have no sister. Ree is danger. You are danger. Understand?”
The alien looks away from me as if surveying the area and I can see a cluster of uneven short feathers between what I think are its shoulders, stained green with dried flecks of a moss=green liquid. Gross.
“Hunters below, will kill.”
Hunters? There are even more aliens down there?
“Need go. Now,” he urges.
I really want to go with him. He sounds genuine, though the actor in me knows what a dangerous lie that can be.
However, something else comes to mind. There are birds that can mimic the sounds of their prey so they can lure them to their nest. It is strange that a bird creature would have the concept of a sister, alien or not. I need to confirm something.
I place my hand over my ears and open my mouth wide as I take in a deep breath. His eyes widen, so I know he understands that I am threatening to scream. His humanlike eyes bear a semblance of panic.
He tries to beg, the strain obvious on his face. “Hunters will hear, please.”
I can feel his frustration building and I let go of my bluff. I have my confirmation that he cannot be easily dissuaded.
“Climb down. Then leave alone?”
“Cannot. Promised Ree,” he tries to explain, exasperated.
It’s even stranger that aliens have the concept of chivalry.
“Explain all,” I say firmly.