Story #14

She led him back into the house and began on lunch. She pulled a loaf of fresh made bread from the pantry and made four ham and cheese sandwiches with lettuce from the garden that she sent Gi to fetch. She wasn’t quite sure how she managed to convey what she wanted, but he brought back the lettuce in a few minutes. She put two of the sandwiches on Gi’s plate and sat down with Grandfather’s plate next to hers. Grandfather had set off on a ride to check on the cattle, and hadn’t returned yet. Before she knew it, Gi had finished both of his sandwiches and his whole glass of milk, and was watching her eat hers. She looked up at him over her sandwich. He was sitting with his back straight, staring at her. She swallowed warily and wiped the crumbs from her face. She finished eating in the uncomfortable silence with his eyes on her. She stood up and cleared the dishes away. When she turned back, Gi was fiddling with something on his finger she hadn’t noticed before. A kind of ring? A small light glowed blue, and as he flicked it with his thumb, she saw a spark fly. She slowed her rinsing as she watched, fascinated. Suddenly he noticed her, and she turned away quickly. His face was slightly sunburned from working in the sun, it was plain he didn’t spend a lot of time outdoors. She dried her hands and walked over to him, dropping the towel on the table. His attention snapped back to her, and his strange ring dropped back into his lap. She took two fingers and turned his face towards her, gently unwinding the soiled bandage around his close cropped hair. She examined the gash, it was doing better, but still wasn’t pretty. The bruising had spread, and the edges of the cut were dry and yellow. She wet a cloth and pressed it against it. He barely winced. He had a soldier’s demeanor about him, she decided. What interesting stories he must have to tell once he learns English. She thought about it as she ground up more herbs and rebound his head wound. He took off his shirt and she unwound the bandages around his chest. They were extraordinarily lucky it was only a flesh wound and hadn’t gone any deeper, he couldn’t do anything that stretched his pectorals for awhile, but it was healing quickly. It would be nice, to have someone my own age to talk to. Kids from school didn’t count. Nobody took the time to talk to her much, and she didn’t seek them out. Her only real friend was Danny, the neighbor boy. He stopped in occasionally, for dinner or to help with a cattle drive. They’d played together as children and grown closer. Danny, at 17 was the youngest of 10 children. Despite the rocky terrain and dirt roads, he’d acquired a motorcycle somewhere and rode it everywhere, including to school. Danny would have some interesting things to say about Gi. She finished dressing his wounds in silence, thinking about all these things. Just then she heard the roar of a motor outside, the crunch of gravel, and the squawk of chickens, mixed with very bad singing on the drive. That was Danny.

She moved to the window to check, and then back into the kitchen to make another sandwich. She observed Gi looking around in confusion at the noise. She imagined what it must be like to be in his position. Crash landed, with no concept of english, in a house with strange people, and she felt a pang of pity. She hoped he recovered fast so they could help him get home, wherever that was. The door opened and Danny’s singing got close and personal. But it stopped abruptly and turned into questions when he saw Gi.

“Ah who’s this! Hey Vern, got any food? Where’s Clae?” Veronica shook her head, laughing as she set the sandwich down in front of him. Gi was looking from one to the other in confusion, the look of mistrust back on his face. She began to answer his questions as he sat down and bit into the sandwich with a grunt of thanks.

“Grandfather is on a ride, out to check on the herd. And this is Gi. He’s um, he’s an interesting story. I found him yesterday. In the canyon. He was crashed in some kind of experimental craft.” Danny looked up at her, cocking his head. If it wasn’t Danny, Veronica would be afraid he wouldn’t believe her.

“Well that’s weird,” He said at last, and continued eating. Veronica shrugged. Danny would believe anything without question from someone he trusted.

“So how long are you staying?” He was addressing Gi directly, but Veronica answered.

“I don’t know. He doesn’t speak english, Danny…  Grandfather seems to know more about his situation than I do. He told me he’d explain everything tonight. He’s been helping me out around the farm today. You should have seen him with the kittens.” Danny grinned,

“Gentle giant, eh? He any good with tools?” Veronica pursed her lips. She felt rude talking about Gi in front of him like this. He’d gone back to fiddling with the ring, but it was obvious he knew they were talking about him. He’d heard his name.

“Danny, look at the corner of the table. And don’t shout, or say his name. But he made that mark this morning when I was dressing his wounds. With his fist.” She raised her eyebrows at him, as he ran his fingers over the mark and then looked back up at her.
“Remember when I hit this table with a hammer when we were ten?”

“Yes. I do remember that. Grandfather wasn’t happy about that. But you don’t see any kind of mark from that incident. He’s enormously strong, Dan. It’s scary, honestly. I had to bring him back here unconscious last night, and he weighs upwards toward three hundred pounds,” Here Danny’s jaw dropped.

“That’s impossible! He looks like he weighs one seventy at most. There’s no way.”

“That’s what I said,” Veronica said grimly.

Suddenly, Gi swayed in his seat, very pale. She rushed forward and steadied him by the shoulders. He squeezed his eyes shut, apparently dizzy, and then shook his head, looking up at her. He said a few words in his own language before he stopped, clearly frustrated.

“Is he alright?” Danny had stood up and was watching.

“Could you get him a glass of water?” Veronica looked into Gi’s eyes, and he tried to look at her straight on, but his vision was foggy. She berated herself harshly on the inside, what had she been thinking having him do so much the day after such an incident? Gi drank the water, and she felt his forehead. He was burning with fever again. She sighed.

“Looks can be deceiving. It’s easy to forget what he’s gone through when he looks and acts so strong. He needs to rest.” She pulled him upright, and he swayed again, almost crushing her under his weight.

“Danny!” She grunted, “A little help! We’re taking him to the guest bedroom.”

They each took an arm, and together, and very slowly, they managed to get him into bed. He was shuddering with chills.

“Stay with him while I get him a wet cloth.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Danny sounded panicked.

“Just don’t let him roll off the bed, for heaven sakes, Danny!” Veronica moved fast as she got the cloth and returned to find Danny chewing his nails and staring at Gi’s tossing form.

“Well this is WEIRD.”

“I know right? That’s what I said. Let me get him taken care of, and I’ll tell you the rest of the story.” She pressed the cloth against his forehead, and he stared up at her feverishly. She smiled weakly at him.

“Sleep! You’ll feel better.” He turned away, eyes closed. She beckoned to Danny, and the left the room silently, closing the door behind them. Veronica let out her breath in a whoosh.

“Well,” She said after a pause. Danny was looking at her, “Let’s go out on the porch and I’ll explain everything.”

.....

Song

Story #13

As it turned out, working wasn’t easy with someone who didn’t understand your language. He reminded her of a wild dog, the way he followed her, watching so carefully and sharply. Everything seemed new to him. She took him first to the garden, because it was on the side of the house that was in the shade in the morning. She dropped to her knees, and gestured for him to join her, which he did. She pointed to the small green shoot of an onion and said clearly,

“Plant.” He nodded at once and repeated it, pointing to another shoot. She nodded encouragingly and pointed to a blade of grass.

“Weed.” He frowned, and glanced up at her. He pointed to it slowly. “Weed.”

“Yes!” Then she pulled it up. He watched her face as he reached for a blade of grass, pulling it up, too. She smiled brightly and continued weeding. He caught on remarkably fast, and didn’t pull up a single plant. They reached the end of that row in silence, and moved on to a row of carrots, which was harder for him. He couldn’t tell the difference between the young carrot tops and the blades of grass, but Vern didn’t chastise him when he accidentally pulled one up. He looked completely aghast, holding it out to her apologetically. She laughed and pushed it back.

“It’s fine. Be careful.”

“Careful.” He repeated, and continued down the row with excruciating concentration on his face. When he did accidentally pull up another carrot he looked pained and poked it back into the ground, glancing at Vern, who pretended not to see. It doesn’t really matter. They need to be thinned sometime, anyway. They finished weeding the garden in another hour, with her explaining different words and pointing out different things to him. She stood up, brushing the red dirt off her knees and stretching. She grinned at Gi, and held up her hand for a high five. He looked at her blankly. Vern laughed, a strange look on her face. A teenager who didn’t know about high fives?

“Here, it’s like this.” She took his hand and held it up, slapping it. He looked completely confused. “It means good job.” She explained, even though she knew he didn’t understand. His face loosened a little, not quite a smile, but not the usual frown either.

…..

He followed her all over the farm, helping whenever he could. He handed her staples while she fixed a fence, helped water the garden, but what he seemed to love the most were the animals. Anytime he encountered one he seemed to freeze and become completely enchanted. Vern led him to a the tack closet inside the barn where they kept the poultry feed and took his hands, cupping them. He watched intently, wondering what was happening. She poured a cup of feed into his hands and led him by the arm into the barnyard.

“Reese!” She called, “Bonnie!” Birds came flooding from what seemed like nowhere. Gi’s green eyes went wide with wonder as the huge white goose flapped his wings, hissing. Vern squatted down and he joined her, she motioned for him to hold his hands out. Reese, the goose, came right up to him and began horking down the grain from his hand. She watched his face, a half smile playing on her lips. He was completely enraptured by the birds, but didn’t reach out to touch them. He let the goose eat out of his hands before scattering the rest of the grain as he’d seen Vern do. The flock of ducks and chickens quacked and squawked, making a delightful din. He pointed to the goose, “Reese?”

“Mhmm.” Vern reached out and stroked his white feathers with two fingers. Gi continued, “Mule?” It was very clear he knew it wasn’t a mule, but he didn’t know how to ask what he was. “Goose.” Vern stood up and Gi immediately did the same, although it was quite plain he would have liked to stay on the ground with the birds.

“I have something you’ll like,” She said to him, “Follow me.” One of the things he’d learned in five short hours was “Follow me.” Along with “Good job,” “Be careful,” “Hold this,” “Wait a moment,” and several other individual words and phrases. Veronica was amazed at how fast he obtained and retained information. It didn’t seem like he forgot any of it. Gi followed her into the dimmer interior of the barn, neck craning to look at the horses as they passed. She turned to him at the bottom of the stairs to the hay mow and repeated the familiar phrase, “Be careful,” with the new “Be quiet” sign, with her finger to her lips. He cocked his head, not understanding, but she couldn’t think of any way to explain that to him without words. She didn’t see any real danger of him squealing with delight, so she turned and started up the stairs. She took his hand and helped him up the hatch into the hay mow. Sunlight streamed in through a single window where they threw the bales in. Hay season had already happened, so the mow was quite full. She crawled over the top of the stack and beckoned for him to come. He grunted as his foot sank through a hole between the bales and she suppressed a giggle. She scooched over so he could sit beside her, and heard him suck in his breath. She reached out and stroked the gray cat in front of her, purring in satisfaction as her kittens crawled around in a heap of fur. Vern gently lifted one from the nest of hay and the mother meowed, getting up and following the hands as they glided over to Gi. She climbed onto his knee and reached up to sniff the hand, suspicious that it perhaps held one of her children. She meowed and turned around once anxiously, before returning to the rest of the kittens and watching the humans carefully. Gi stared down at the mound of fur, staying so still Vern had to smile a little. She stroked the head of the white kitten with her thumb and it yawned, looking around with its bright young eyes. Finally Gi’s eyes twitched over to Vern, who held the kitten out to him.

“You can hold her!” She whispered. Gi held out a huge hand and Vern felt a moment of apprehension as she remembered the fist print in the kitchen table. But one more glance at his face and she placed the kitten in his hand without hesitation. There is no way this boy would hurt anything. A confusion of memories flooded her head in response to this thought. The wild, trapped look in his eye when she’d first found him, the sparks flying from the neighbor’s phone. He has the potential to be dangerous, she reminded herself. But Grandfather’s words rang in her head. “All you need to know for today is that you can trust him.” And she did. She relaxed and watched with thoughtful eyes as the large boy held the kitten as gently as if it were made of glass. She picked up another from the remaining four and cradled it to her chest. The mother, whose name was Ras (Short for Raspberries) meowed again, concerned. Without a single moment of hesitation, Gi gently placed the kitten back with the rest of the litter. Vern smiled and rubbed her own kitten against her cheek, breathing in the fresh scent, before returning it also to the nest. They sat and watched them for a minute more, as Ras bathed and purred over her returned children and then settled in to feed them. They made their way silently across the hay mow and down the stairs. When they were back in the barnyard, Vern turned to Gi and grinned.

“You like them?” He nodded, somehow looking happy without smiling.

.....

Story #12, Chapter two

Chapter Two

Veronica stared at it in shock. She touched it, her face incredulous. He would have to be incomprehensibly strong to have dented this table. It was solid oak, and had stood in that kitchen without a mark on it for over two decades. Her brain began to work, and for the first time she really thought about what had happened. She had found a boy in a spaceship. That wasn’t normal. That in and of itself should have been enough to give her pause in the first place, but she’d just pulled him out and took him home, never stopping to truly wonder why he weighed near three hundred pounds, had unnatural eyes, and didn’t speak her language. And what about the phone at the neighbors’ house? How had he done that? Now he was outside, alone with her grandfather, and she had no real idea what his intention was, where he came from, or whether he was safe. He seemed safe, just scared, but she couldn’t know that for sure. She leaned against the table. Her face was contracted into a concentrated scowl. She needed answers, but had no idea how to get them. Perhaps that was what her grandfather was doing this instant, but it was never entirely possible to tell what her grandfather was doing at any given time. One second he’d seem to be peacefully sleeping, the next he’d be wide awake with a distant fire in his eyes, fiercely toying with something in his hand, muttering about the different parts and walking himself through it. Other times he’d be as he had been last night, quiet, concentrated, level headed. He knew what needed to be done, and got it done. He would want answers just as much as she would, she told herself. There was no need to take the matter into her own hands, grandfather would take care of it. She tried to make herself believe it, as she cleared the dishes away and got to work on the housework. But even her artist’s mind was too rational to dismiss it just like that. It was possible, she guessed, that the language he was speaking was merely something she’d never heard that her grandfather was fluent in, he didn’t often speak of what he was before he was a farmer. For all she knew he could have known lots of languages. If she really wanted to, she could tell herself any story she wanted. The boy could be an inventor from a different part of the world, who had crashed his experimental craft into a canyon on the midwest. She frowned as she scrubbed the counter and rinsed her cloth. She paused over the sink, thinking hard. Even that doesn’t explain his weight. I can’t just wish away that fact by stories I make up. She stopped short, suddenly remembering the metal she’d found along with the boy, and tried to remember what she’d done with it. She remembered putting it down on Gi’s night stand the night before, it was digging into her flesh where she’d tucked it into her waistband. She went into Gi’s room, and looked around. Nothing was different than the night before, except that the blankets on the bed were tousled. She picked up the metal and tossed its unusual weight in her palm. It glittered green and silver in the morning light. I wasn’t making it up in my head, everything about him is heavy. Heavy and green. She looked around the room again, looking for any other clues. She remembered the satchel, and took it off its hook on the door. She sank slowly onto the bed, examining the small metal pieces inside it. Some of them appeared to be games, puzzles. Others appeared to be hardware. She heard the screen door open and close, and her head shot up. She stuffed the items back into the bag, hung it up and busied herself with making the bed.

When she returned to the kitchen, her grandfather and the boy were back at the table, silent. The boy looked pale, and kept looking at her grandfather, a mix of awe, fear, and bewilderment on his face. Grandfather looked grim and calm. Veronica entered the room quietly, watching the two with curiosity.

“What’s the plan for today, Grandfather?” Without looking up from the table he answered, “Nothing unusual. Weed the garden, take care of the animals, anything you can think of.” He looked up and smiled his old man smile at her. She smiled back, but hesitated. Without giving any physical indication of who she was talking about, she asked,

“What about the boy? Are we going to report him in town?” Grandfather’s face didn’t change as he responded.

“He’s going to stay with us, Vern. I’ll explain everything to you tonight. And Vern--” He looked her in the eyes. “You’re going to have a hard time believing it. All you need to know for today, is that you can trust him. Try to teach him our language, make him feel at home, show him what you do. He’s come a long way.” Her bright blue eyes were layered with puzzlement and surprise, but she just nodded slowly, and turned to the boy. He looked from Clae to Veronica, he hadn’t understood the conversation almost at all. She gave him a half smile, and jerked her head for him to follow. The chair scraped the floor as he stood up, and walked behind her outside.

Watercolors

I've been painting with watercolors for about 5 years now, starting with a class at a school of art. I've been keeping at it ever since! The star fish picture is a project underway in a class I'm taking at school, I left my other one at school but I liked it and wanted to finish it. :D 

Song