Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Shathar
I will have to share. And whenever I am not present, there is no way for me to know what Fiona will be doing with Khesan.
Though I hate it, I can’t fight it, not while he plays agreeable and understanding. I can’t let the youngling be more mature than I am.
Reclining in bed, I reach over and fiddle with the peculiar lamp on the bedside table. We have push lights back home embedded in the walls because they take up less space. This contraption has a lever or a switch somewhere—perhaps…
I almost knock it over trying to twist the light switch, but eventually I get it off. I wonder how much of adjusting to life on Earth will be like this, fumbling my way around until I figure out the answer.
This bed is soft, also unlike an Arshurian bed, which is firm and flat. I’m not sure what to do with the pillows that Fiona pointed out to me, but I embrace one like I would embrace a mate.
I hope that can be me someday. I hope I can be what she was looking for when she signed up for the Galactic Matching Program. Not only is she lovely to look upon, but she’s kind and caring, and intelligent, as well. I believe she is the perfect woman to grow old with.
I hope she will come to see that in me, too.
The next morning, I’m not sure whether the sun has come up because there’s cloth covering the windows. When I push it aside, a bit of sun trickles in, so it must be morning.
When I walk up the stairs, the lights are all still off. Perhaps I am up and awake before Fiona, which leads me to the next thought: perhaps I can have breakfast ready for when she emerges.
First, I familiarize myself with the kitchen. There is a stove that seems to operate with buttons. My embedded translator—which was placed in my head behind my ear, under my left fan—points out which side says “high” and which says “low.” This will be helpful.
Most of the cupboards are full of plates and cups, the drawers with odd silver cutlery. We mostly use our hands back home, so I note that humans don’t despite our meal last night.
There is a large box with doors that I assume is a cooler, and open it up to find it is, in fact, cold inside. There appear to be lots of items in it, but I’m not entirely sure what they are.
Meat. There we go, I recognize that. I pull it out and place it on the counter, then go seeking accompaniments.
At home, a traditional breakfast is kitter bird with grains and fruit.
Fiona appears to have some fruit in a bowl, and though I’m not sure what it is, if it’s in her kitchen, it must be edible.
I cut up the meat, then turn on the stove. At home, our heat source is underneath a single large pot, but this must have multiple heat sources. I put the meat on the heat source, which glows red, and then set to cutting up the fruit.
Smoke soon starts rising from the stove. I go over and flip the meat, and it’s charred black on one side.
Hmm. Must have turned it up too high. I turn the heat down and try again with another piece of meat. But more smoke rises and fills the room. I pull this next piece of meat off and it sticks to the heat source.
Suddenly, there’s a terrible, ear-piercing beeping. It’s horrifically loud, enough to wake up everyone in the house.
“What is that smell?” Fiona calls out over the furious beeping as she thumps down the stairs. She comes around the corner into the kitchen and stares at me. “What are you doing?!”
“I was attempting to cook breakfast,” I shout back. She sees the meat on the stove and rushes over, grabbing a pair of implements to try to scrape the meat off the surface.
“You need a pan!” she cries, tossing the meat in the sink. The beeping persists. “Fuck, the fire alarm is going off and I can’t reach it.”
This is going as badly as possible.
“Where is it?” I ask quickly.
More thumping, and Khesan comes rocketing into the kitchen.
“What is going on?” he calls over the noise. Fiona ignores him, running across the room to the wall and jumping up in the air.
“It’s up there!”
I rush over and lean down, offering my hands for her to step on.
She hops into them, then I lift her up so she can reach a white cylinder up on the wall.
She presses a button and the beeping, at long last, stops.
Frantically, Fiona opens a window, and then another window nearby, ushering the smoke out.
Khesan is standing there open-mouthed, while I look upon the smoldering remains of the meat still stuck to the stove. Finally, Fiona returns, panting.
“I am sorry,” I say, bending my head, my tail hanging with utter humiliation. “I wanted to have food prepared when you awoke.”
“But you didn’t even know how to cook it!” Fiona waves her hands in the air, trying to dissipate the smoke. “I could have shown you.”
“Jumped the gun,” Khesan says with a wink. What does that mean?
Fiona turns to him. “Where’d you hear that?”
“It was in my book of Earth sayings.” He looks so smug right now, I could just punch him in the face. “It means, Shathar, trying something beyond you. Being foolish in an attempt to show off.”
A hiss spills from my lips, and my fans flex atop my head.
“None of that,” Fiona snaps, stopping us in our tracks.
“I have to clean up. Then I can make breakfast.” She takes a few deep, calming breaths.
I want to apologize again, but I think I’ve already done enough.
So I step aside and watch as Fiona digs out cleaning supplies and scrapes the charred meat off the stove, then cleans it.
“Might be like this permanently,” she mutters to herself, and my guilt grows teeth.
I was supposed to be the mature one, the one who wouldn’t make such stupid errors. But Khesan looks incredibly pleased as he seats himself at the table, and I sit as far away from him as possible.
After cleaning is finished, Fiona says, “Here, I’ll show both of you how to cook in a human home, okay?”
I am cowed as I get up and join Khesan in watching.
She instructs us on where to find pans, how to oil them, how to cook the meat safely.
She shows us her seasoning cabinet, suggesting the easiest ones to use.
Then she brings out white globes that are called “chicken” eggs.
They smell great as they cook, and I pay close attention to the way the egg turns white and the yellow center thickens.
Finally, she serves it all on plates with what she calls “toast,” which is a baked good sliced and baked again, making it utterly delicious.
“First thing we need to do is go buy some more food,” she says. “I wasn’t prepared for two of you.”
It is unfortunate that Fiona has been saddled with two of us when she only asked for one husband. Now her workload, and cost, is doubled.
“Then maybe we should go to the thrift store so you can each get some decor that represents you.” She offers an encouraging smile. “For your rooms.”
I know she is referring to our discussion last night about redecorating her mother’s former quarters. I hope that means she’s forgiven me for this morning’s unfortunate mishap.
“I am used to sparse quarters,” says Khesan. “There is no need on my behalf. In the military, we live in a minimalist way.”
“And that’s why you brought two bags?” I ask, snark in my tone.
“Now my clothes will not need to be washed as often as yours,” he tosses back.
Fiona raises her hands. “Actually, that reminds me. I should take both of you clothes shopping. Your alien fashion is… not really Earth fashion.”
I smirk at Khesan, as this was my plan: get Earth clothes and attempt to blend in. Learn all of Earth’s customs so I can be the best husband possible.
“We might need to get you some custom pants for those tails, though…” Fiona trails off as she examines both of us. “Amara knows a good tailor.”
“I did bring money,” Khesan pipes up. “I had it changed at the space station before we departed for Earth. I can pay for any additional clothing I might need.”
I stare at him. Damn. That was good thinking on his part. When I sold my store, most of my assets went with it. I have sizable savings, which I didn’t even think to turn into human money before coming here.
Vakha. Now Fiona will be saddled with the cost of having custom pants made for me. That is certainly a mark in favor of Khesan.
“Perhaps I can go change money at the spaceport,” I suggest.
Fiona shakes her head. “It’s a long way. No worries at all. I set aside money for exactly this.”
She’s so bright and cheery and optimistic, I admire her immensely.
“All right.” Fiona grabs some canvas bags from under the sink and strolls to the door. “Let’s go to the grocery store.”
I did not know what to expect from an Earthling grocery.
Back on Arshur, my shop was mid-sized, specializing in fresh fruits and vegetables.
I had struck a deal with many of the area farmers to get first pick of their stock in the mornings, so I could offer the best of the best to my customers.
It earned me much loyalty and respect in my community.
This place… it is a monstrosity. A faceless maze. It’s as busy as a spaceport, and filled with goods of every shape and kind. It’s also filled to the gills with humans all trying to get to what they want.
I stay close to Fiona’s side as we get a large cart, which is big enough for any of us to sit in. Khesan takes the lead, as if he has any idea where we’re going.
“Dry goods first, then vegetables, then meat, then frozen goods,” Fiona says, listing it off. “That way the frozen stuff doesn’t melt.”
“You can buy all that here?” I gaze around the sprawling, high-ceilinged warehouse.
“Yup. Though sometimes I go to the natural grocery store if I want specific vegetables I can’t get here. But since I’m buying in bulk to feed all three of us, we’ll find most of what we want here.”
I see. This explains the people pushing around very full carts.
Fiona hums as she leads the way into the throng, deftly weaving among other people taking up the aisles. She is grace when the world is chaotic, and she smiles even as others get in her way. The gods chose well for me, I think—just this small slice of Fiona I’ve seen so far.
Humans turn to stare at Khesan and me as we go past, murmuring and whispering to each other. We are a novelty here, I suppose. Which Fiona would be, had she come to Arshur. We have very few off-worlders there, being a remote desert planet. She would stand out there as much as we do here.
I will have to get used to stares and whispers. A small child even screeches, “He has a tail!” as we walk by, clinging onto his mother as if afraid, so I grab my tail and keep it close to avoid startling any other tailless humans.
Out of all the wonders we discover at the grocery, though, I am most taken aback when we reach the “meat” section. Rather than hanging carcasses, as one would expect at a butcher’s, the meat is all neatly cut and arranged in disposable packages.
“What if you simply want to buy a whole animal?” I ask, surveying the “chicken” meat. It’s all very… sanitized, as if the original creature never existed.
“That sounds like a lot of work,” Fiona says, leafing through the packages. “Here we go. This should be big enough.”
Khesan also appears mystified by this experience, so at least he’s kept his mouth shut while he takes in the many sights and sounds of the grocery store.
But once we finish our long circuit—and I’m shockingly tired from walking all over the warehouse—we head to “checkout.” Here, Fiona scans all of her goods on a machine, then brings out a card that I assume represents money on her planet.
“Please,” says Khesan, stepping up beside her. “Allow me.” He withdraws his own card, which I didn’t even realize an off-worlder could obtain, and offers it. Fiona frowns at him.
“How’d you get a credit card?”
“I opened an Earthling account on the space station with the money I had converted.”
“Well…” She looks uncertain. “Okay, I guess. You tap the card here.” She shows Khesan how to bring the card to the machine, which beeps, and then a document prints.
Vakha. Now I really wish I had thought ahead like he did and brought my savings with me. Perhaps it’s not too late, and I can still get access to it off-world. Maybe if I contact that little Frahma with my communicator…
“Time to go, Shathar,” Fiona chirps, earning my attention. I follow as Khesan pushes the cart out the automatic doors, my tail twitching in annoyance. He tips his head and smirks in my direction, and I wish I could simply claw his eyes out.
But no. I will be better than he is. He may have money, but I can offer care and affection, service and loyalty. And that will get me to the finish.