Page 62

Jennette

“Got everything?” I ask.

Time has just sped by, and I’ve finished up all my work early so we can leave as soon as possible.

I’m so ready for fall break. I love my students, don’t get me wrong, but most of them are in my class to satisfy the science requirement, not because they love astronomy.

The question I get asked the most is, Will this be on the final?

“I travel light,” Tam says.

I pet Scotty and Spock one last time and make sure all the doors and windows are locked.

Nancy has the key and she’ll pop by for the days we’re going, giving them food and pets.

I tried boarding them and letting them stay at my mom’s house, but the boys like it here best. They seem not to be too lonely as long as they have each other.

And Nancy hangs out with them for a while, watching a show or two before she heads home.

Tam enjoyed it when we took care of Mr. Snickers while Nancy was on her cruise.

I think he wouldn’t mind getting a dog someday, but we probably need a bigger place.

Nancy only has one dog, and that would put us at two bedrooms for five sentient beings.

Still considering the issue of living space, I put my stuff in the car; it takes up far more room than Tam’s single bag.

But then, the clothes he has on aren’t real.

They’re an image in my brain, a fact that never ceases to impress me.

This will be an incredibly long drive, and if I didn’t have vacation days accrued to make the trip worthwhile, I probably wouldn’t have agreed to go.

As it is, we’ll be driving on Thursday, and we’ll have our Friendsgiving a few days later.

We’re close to the Idaho border already, so once I start driving, it doesn’t take long for us to pass the boundary.

The scenery is a blur of green and brown with splashes of wildflowers.

The Snake River dodges past, and I keep going, trusting that the GPS will find us the best route.

My mom isn’t happy about this, but she’s the one who said I need to make more friends.

Too bad she meant people at her church, not ones I met at Space Con.

Tam is quiet, gazing out the window on the passenger side.

“Hey. Everything okay?” I ask.

“Yes. I’m happy,” he says, as if contentment is easy to achieve when we’re together.

My heart does a little skip. “Want to listen to some music?”

“Maybe later. I’d rather learn more about you.”

It feels like he knows everything already.

To me, I’m not that interesting, but to Tam?

I’m someone who intrigues him, whose secrets and stories make for good listening.

I consider what to share with him, not so much curating my image but deciding what will set the right tone, keeping our mood light.

“I could tell you how I got Scotty and Spock?”

“I would love that.”

“My mom loves yard sales and flea markets. I went with her to a garage sale right after moving into my first solo apartment because I still needed some things. I found a box of kitchen stuff right away. And a crate of kittens. The family was trying to give them away with each purchase of $10 or more. With limited success.”

“I suspect it might be difficult to add a living creature to a transaction.”

“I bought the kitchen stuff and took home two kittens. Scotty and Spock were bonded, and Scotty cried so pitifully when I picked Spock up. I had to take both.”

“That’s very sweet. And tenderhearted. I can’t imagine what it would be like if you hadn’t decided to offer them a home.”

“Me either.”

I’m trying not to show it, but I’m worried.

Four more posts about us—well, the actual aliens at Space Con—have been written and eventually locked.

Tad is really good at online rabble-rousing but he’s gotten banned twice on different usernames.

I’m afraid he’ll get in trouble if it continues that way.

And while it’s an online situation now, who knows what they’re plotting?

The Aliens Among Us site isn’t strictly patronized by those who are excited by the idea of extraterrestrial life.

There’s also a small contingent of “stand your ground” types who talk about shooting aliens.

They have no way to find us, right? I doubt they’re organized or capable of tracking us offline. While I fret, miles pile up behind us as minutes tick away into hours.

Idaho’s farmland gives way to the rugged contours of Wyoming, the Grand Tetons piercing the horizon like granite sentinels, their snowcapped peaks sharp against a sky too blue to be real.

We stay overnight at a motel and keep driving in the morning.

After two more days in the car, we cross into the lush greenery of Tennessee.

We’re a little behind schedule, and Tam texted Poppy to let her know we’ll be there as soon as we can.

Memphis is the closest Poppy could get by train, and we’ll be driving with her for another six hours.

Gatlinburg is on the other side of the state.

“Almost there,” he says, as if reading my mind.

That’s relative, considering what a long drive this is.

But airports are out of the question. While he has a basic ID that passes cursory inspection and allows him to access various services online, it wouldn’t stand up to rigorous checks in person, especially if he doesn’t resemble the photo to the TSA agent.

I know he said he has a fake letter about plastic surgery, but he hasn’t tested it.

And I won’t let him get detained. Jaz and Ravik must have similar problems.

The train station in Memphis is a hive bustling with people waiting for rides when we pull up.

Poppy stands out immediately among the crowd with her red curls flying in the autumn breeze.

I bounce out of the car as she turns, breaking into a run.

We hug, both talking at once about how good it is to see each other.

Tam doesn’t join the moment, but when she draws back, Poppy includes him with a smile.

“Missed you two. Thanks for doing this. You saved me from grabbing a bus and then an Uber. I doubt I could have afforded to go, actually.”

I smile. “Glad we can help. It wouldn’t be a proper Friendsgiving without you.”

Poppy sighs as I stow her bag in the xB. “My family didn’t understand at all why I had to travel over Thanksgiving of all times. I got guilt factor fifty this year.”

She hops in the back and stretches. “Would you get upset if I take a nap? Public transportation is exhausting. All that alertness.”

“Not at all,” I say.

“We’ll let you rest,” Tam adds.

She dozes off right away, leaving me to listen to music and drive.

Tam has been chatting to keep me alert, but now he falls quiet, trying to let Poppy sleep undisturbed.

My mind wanders, seeking a path where we can be happy together and run beneath the radar.

We’re not destined for kids and picket fences, but I never wanted either of those things anyway.

I count down the miles, humming along to the playlist I picked out before we left.

Several hours later, we round the final bend, and there it is—Ravik’s mountain home, nestled in the pines.

It looks like it started as a cabin and people just kept adding on to it.

It’s kind of a Frankenhouse, offering a bit of an odd first impression, but it’s not charmless. Rather like Ravik.

I pull into the gravel drive, and before the car comes to a full stop, the front door of the house swings open. Tad appears on the porch with Jaz right behind him. I wonder how long they’ve been here. Tad’s the lucky one; he could just get on a plane.

“Poppy! Jen!” Tad takes the steps two at a time.

I’d forgotten just how tall he is, and his smile lights up his whole face.

I’m out of the car, stepping into a bear hug before Tam opens his door.

Poppy crowds in, and so does Jaz. I notice that she’s not using her tech camo here.

No surprise: there are no neighbors for miles in either direction. We came a fair way up the mountain.

“It’s a little late, but Happy Thanksgiving,” Jaz says.

“So glad you made it,” Tad adds.

“Me too. Where’s Ravik?” Poppy demands.

“Out back,” Jaz answers.

Tam gestures at the car. “I’ll take our things inside.”

And Tad beckons us onward, seeming as excited as a little kid. “You have to meet Kevin! Nobody tell him that this holiday is dedicated to devouring one of his distant cousins, okay?”

“Good lord,” Poppy mumbles.

We follow the worn path around the house. There’s a small shed repurposed as a chicken coop, and free-range chickens peck at the earth, undisturbed by our presence. A brown and white goat watches us with unblinking eyes.

Tad bounces around, all knees and elbows. “This is Frances! Ravik never said anything about a goat.”

“Ravik?” I look around, mildly amazed by how self-sufficient this place must be. I spot the remnants of a vegetable garden, gone fallow in the shade of autumn.

“Over here.” Ravik emerges from behind the shed and scatters handfuls of feed.

The birds clamor and flap, rushing toward them with excited noises. And then I finally behold the majestic Kevin, who struts after the hens like he owns the place. In all honesty, I’m not as excited as Tad, but he is a handsome rooster.

“ Kevin ,” Tad breathes.

“This is weird, right?” Poppy whispers.

“Let him have this,” Jaz whispers back.

“I have finished caring for these idlers. If you are amenable, I could build a fire,” Ravik says. “Perfect for sharing stories.”

“We could toast marshmallows. If you have any,” I suggest.

“There’s nothing like a roaring fire. This is gonna be awesome,” Poppy says, rubbing her hands together.

“A holiday we’ll always remember,” Tad agrees.

I have the strange feeling he may be right; everything is about to change.