Chapter 25 #14
“What did he mean by that?” Colin grabbed the handle on the suitcase and tried to lift it—and almost dropped it on his foot, surprised by the weight. What the heck had Dad packed that weighed that much?
Tia lifted the suitcase and walked into the trading post.
The Llamalidians, who were coming to the trading post to exchange their woven vests and scarves for items Tia had stocked—or would stock if there was enough interest in an item—now hurried behind the two humans to see what the Colin Boy had received.
Tia set the suitcase down in front of the back counter and looked at Colin. Then she looked at the Llamalidians, including the four juveniles and the seven cria who had accompanied the adults. “You sure you want to open this here and not in your room?”
He couldn’t imagine his parents sending him something…weird, but he sidestepped the question by asking one of his own. “What did the bus driver mean about having a connection with Destiny Park?”
Tia lifted the two identification tags. The one in Dad’s handwriting simply said, “Colin Forrester, c/o Destiny Park, Wyrd.” The other said, “Expedite delivery to Colin Forrester at Llamalidia Trading Post. LF.”
“Lucas Frost,” Tia said quietly.
“The guy in charge of Destiny Park,” Colin said just as quietly.
“Yeah.”
Given the weight of the suitcase, he wouldn’t have been surprised to find it half-filled with bricks, but it was tightly packed with clothes, the next two books of a series he was reading, a pouch of coins, and…
He saw one of the juveniles take a small box out of the suitcase, and hurry over to another part of the trading post, followed by the other three juveniles.
Teenagers, Colin thought, ignoring that he fit into the same category. Whatever it was, he’d get it back. The adult Llamalidians would make sure of it. They were pretty strict when it came to bargaining and fair exchange.
He focused on the neatly rolled clothing.
“All right!” He stripped off the T-shirt that had been rinsed out but hadn’t been given a proper washing since he’d arrived.
Tia had offered to loan him a T-shirt, but he quickly realized that her wardrobe didn’t have much to spare.
Besides, he was pretty sure they weren’t the same size.
He unrolled one of the T-shirts in the suitcase and pulled it on. The cria hummed, a sound filled with curiosity. Their hoof-hands, which were far more flexible than he’d thought, pinched the T-shirt fabric, then pinched their woven vests.
Colin did a quick count of the cria, then unrolled another T-shirt and held it up against one of them. It—because he’d not looked at their privates for a definite answer of he or she—raised its arms.
He grinned. “This would go under the vest.”
The cria undid the vest’s fasteners, dropped the garment on the floor, and raised its arms again in imitation of what Colin had done when he put on the T-shirt.
Colin put the T-shirt on it and helped it back into the vest. “Very nice!”
The other six cria dropped their vests and approached with their arms up to get a T-shirt. Well, he’d still have a couple left for his own use, and they really did look cute wearing colorful T-shirts that fell almost to their knees.
A commotion in the part of the trading post where the juveniles had gathered for their secret whatever. Colin rose to his feet. Tia pushed the top of the suitcase down and partially zipped it before turning to deal with the juveniles.
Colin headed toward them. Some kind of pushy-shovey over…
He stopped. Stared. What the…?
The juveniles were wearing unrolled condoms over their ears.
He heard Tia, coming up behind him, snort out a laugh.
A condom was a condom was a condom, but one juvenile was having trouble getting its booty unrolled and tried to grab one from a friend.
“Wait a minute,” Colin said as he reached them.
Hums and groans. Ears went back in warning as the two juveniles faced each other.
Colin stepped between them, putting his hands out to keep them apart. “There’s no reason—”
Spit.
Spit.
Colin looked at the green gobs of spit that covered his clean T-shirt. “Geez! That is gross!” Not to mention that it stank.
The adults converged on the juveniles. Angry hums and sharp hoof claps.
The juveniles, chastened, followed the adults out of the trading post, signing sorry, so sorry.
They weren’t the only ones who were sorry.
One adult Llamalidian herded the cria outside.
Tia set a bucket beside Colin. “You want some help getting that shirt off so you don’t make things worse?”
“I can do it,” Colin wheezed as he gingerly took off the T-shirt, holding his breath when his face got close to the green globs soaking into the fabric.
“Dump it in the bucket. I’ll use some of the stored gray water for the first rinse, then give it a proper washing with the rest of the clothes.” She studied Colin and sniffed. “And you can have an extra bucket of water for your shower.”
“Tomorrow is my day to shower,” he said.
“I’m changing the schedule. Now go out and wash before everything in the trading post starts to smell.”
Colin stared at her. “Why would my dad put…those…in the suitcase?”
“Well, you’re old enough to be interested, aren’t you?” She waited a beat. “Besides, your mother might have packed those. Moms can be practical, and are well aware of the consequences that can come from being careless.”
“You’re just messing with me.”
“Maybe. And I’ll keep messing with you until you don’t stink like green spit. Now go. I’ll take the suitcase up to your room.”
“I’ll need clean clothes.”
Tia went back to the suitcase, opened it, removed a set of clothes, looked at him, and said, “I’ll put these on the bench just outside the shower.”
Because if he took them now, they’d be stinky. “Thanks.”
He used three and a half buckets of water, but he used extra soap to wash his chest. He sniffed himself and was pretty sure he smelled clean by the time he was done.
He toweled off and dressed in a pair of old, soft jeans and an equally soft T-shirt.
The jeans were a little too warm for that time of day.
He’d have to see what else his parents had packed.
And he really hoped there weren’t any more unwanted surprises.
An hour later, Colin had changed into a pair of shorts and was examining the items that weren’t clothes or toiletries. He appreciated the books, was glad he didn’t know what his parents were thinking when they packed the condoms, and really appreciated the Wyrd coins.
Tia had said there was a neighborhood that was a mostly human town where you could get a burger and fries and a milkshake from the diner—foods that didn’t exist in Llamalidia.
That neighborhood also had a drugstore, a grocery store, and a bookstore, as well as a two-screen movie theater.
No telling what the movies might be or how long ago they’d been released, but the people who lived in that town didn’t seem to care about that.
There was also a bed-and-breakfast where a person could stay over if they missed the bus—or if they wanted to spend an extra day away from wherever else they were.
Since he had money now, maybe he and Tia could go there one of these days and he could treat her to a meal and a movie as a thank-you for letting him stay with her until…
Colin reached into the suitcase and removed the photo in its simple frame at the same time Tia knocked on his door.
“Your family?” she asked, looking at the photo.
He nodded. “Mom, Dad, and my sister, Jazmin. We call her Jazz.”
“Do you miss them?”
He hesitated. “I will.” Being in a strange new place hadn’t lost its excitement, even if the chores were so familiar.
He remembered watching a Star Trek episode with Dad and saying how it would be wicked cool to visit a strange world, and Dad saying that once the excitement subsided, he suspected the day-to-day tasks of finding food and water, making clothes of some kind, and building and maintaining living quarters would be pretty much the same everywhere—and everywhere fathers would be reminding sons to take out the garbage.
Dad wasn’t wrong about that, but taking care of the day-to-day tasks in Llamalidia hadn’t lost its shine yet.
Colin looked at Tia. “What would happen if I stayed a while longer? Like a foreign exchange student—without the exchange.” He could imagine the reaction if a juvenile Llamalidian showed up at Wyrd’s dock with a suitcase and a note pinned to its vest asking to be taken to Charles Forrester, 13th precinct, Penwych.
“There are reasons why people choose not to live among their own kind anymore,” Tia said quietly.
“But you’re too young to make that kind of choice.
And you have family who would miss you. That makes a difference.
” She thought a moment, then shrugged. “Foreign exchange student? That fits. Let’s say twelve weeks at the most. That would give you time to absorb enough of the culture to write a decent report for your commanding officer.
” She smiled because she, too, was familiar with Star Trek.
So he might have mentioned a time or three in the past couple of days that interacting with another race and forming friendly ties was his geeky fantasy, and how he was actually doing that.
Tia’s smile faded. “After that, you need to focus on getting home.”
“Okay.”
Tia laid a book and a notebook on his bed.
“I don’t know who created this primer of the Llamalidian language or how long ago it was made.
There are only a few copies stored here at the trading post. Seems to me you should have one.
It will help speed up your skill with the language.
The blank notebook is for the daily notes you will need when you write up your reports. ”
“Thanks.” He reached for the primer.
“The Llamalidians are downstairs. They want to talk to you.”
Colin placed the photo of his family on the wood dresser, left the primer and notebook on his bed, and followed Tia downstairs.