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Chapter Three

Amara

Roth’kar listens attentively as I tell him all about Halloween and how kids dressed in costumes go from house to house, asking for candy.

“Trick-or-treat?” he asks. “The children are threatening to do something foul to you unless you bestow them some candy?”

I can’t help a laugh. “You’re right. The idea is kinda messed up. Guess it’s a good thing they’re just children.”

“Their smallness is deceptive,” he says in a very serious tone.

I give him an odd look, but I won’t be deterred from my enthusiasm about Halloween. “Still, it’s a really fun holiday, and I love seeing what costumes everyone is wearing! People also like to put out scary decorations. Like when the kids walk up, a witch screams.”

He looks bewildered. “The intention is to frighten?”

“Yes! That’s the whole point of Halloween. To get scared. People even pay to go to haunted houses to get scared out of their minds.”

“I cannot imagine such a thing as intentionally going to be frightened,” he says, shaking his head. “A Karthinian would avoid such a thing. One does not need the additional cortisol.”

“Well, you don’t have to do it. There are lots of fun Halloween activities. In Mexico, it’s called the Day of the Dead, and they have all these cool traditions…”

“Day of the Dead?” Roth’kar is aghast. “So obsessed with death, you humans!”

I clear my throat and decide to move on. “Halloween is at the end of October, so… in three weeks. And the parties, oh my god. You’ve never seen anything like it. My friend Marguerite throws this huge thing with bubbling cauldrons and spooky music, and everybody gets totally toasted. It’s so fun.”

“Toasted?” He squints, as if thinking. “My translator suggests bread that has been in the oven?”

“Um, like, really drunk. We drink a lot of alcohol.” Do Karthinians have alcohol?

A moment passes. “Ah,” Roth’kar says suddenly, as if his translator has just given him the answer. “A substance that dulls your nervous system.”

“Sure, it’s technically a downer, but it amps the fun factor!

” I slow down as we approach our exit off the highway.

It was a bit of a drive to the spaceport, but I’m lucky I live near one at all.

There are only four in the United States.

“You get a little loose-limbed after a few drinks, start dancing, maybe make out…”

I cut myself off there with a sigh. Been a long time since I had a Halloween that ended in making out. But maybe that will change.

Roth’kar cocks his head, his antennae bobbing. “What is this, ‘make out’?”

Oh, boy. “Well, it’s, uh…” I fumble for the right words. “We’ll get to that later. Hopefully. Maybe?” God, what am I saying?

His frown grows deeper as my words confuse him. “I cannot help you with that question unless I know what it is.”

I try to keep my eyes on the road as my face heats. “Advanced topic! Let’s stick to the basics.”

It’s another twenty minutes to the apartment, during which time Roth’kar stares out the window. He touches the glass again, like he’s trying to reach out beyond it into the trees.

We approach the city limits and wind deeper into town until we’ve reached my building, where I head down into the parking garage.

Finally, we’re ready for Roth’kar to see my place. Rather, our place.

I go to unload his bags, but he already has it in his hand.

“That’s all you’ve got?” I ask, rooting around the trunk. Why didn’t I notice sooner that he had no belongings? “Just the one bag?”

“It has all I need.”

“Huh.” So, no wardrobe. Got it. I don’t know where I’m going to find more clothes for an alien with four arms, though. He can’t very well wear the same odd outfit he’s wearing now every day here on Earth. It’ll get dirty, and he attracts enough attention with four arms and purple skin.

There are other aliens living here now, of course, ever since the Frahma arrived. A few of them settled, as have other species, but off-worlders are still few and far between. And even fewer are those who have come here through the Matching Program.

Maybe I can order a wardrobe for him online. If I can find a giant unicorn head, which I wore for Fiona’s birthday last year, I can find clothes for someone with four arms.

I lead Roth’kar into the elevator, and his eyes get a bit bigger as I press the button for my floor and the doors close. He reaches out to hang on to the railing as the elevator jerks into motion. He mutters something, glancing around us like the elevator might fall apart.

“What’s wrong?” I offer what I hope is a tame but friendly smile. He doesn’t seem to react well when I give him a bigger one, as if he’s being blinded by a bright light, so I’m toning it down.

“This elevator,” he says. “Our elevators are much faster. And not quite so… rickety.”

That doesn’t surprise me. The elevator dings as it stops, and the doors open. “Tell me more about your home planet?” I ask him as we step out.

“Oh. I don’t have one.”

“What? Where did you come from?” How could he not have a home planet?

“I lived on a spaceship. New Dro’thar II. It’s where my people relocated once our planet, Dro’thar, became uninhabitable.”

I stop as we near my door and stare at him. “What happened to it?”

“Well, we destroyed it.”

This catches me off-guard. “How?”

He sighs as I fit my key into my doorknob. “With negligence. Abuse. Mistreatment. Greed.” His teeth grind together. “My ancestors were fools.”

Roth’kar feels so passionately about this. I want to comfort him and tell him that his new home won’t suffer the same fate, but it’s hard not to look around us and wonder.

“Well, you have a planet now,” I say, pausing to put a hand on his arm. He stares down at where I’m touching him, then lifts his eyes to mine again, but he doesn’t shake me off. “And maybe you can help protect this one from the same fate.”

His brows rise.

“It has its flaws, but I think Earth is all right. We have blobfish and Taco Tuesdays.” I pat him once more and open the front door to show him inside.

“Taco Tuesdays,” he echoes. “Is this related to that ‘Mexican food’ the little Frahma mentioned?”

“Ooh, so it’s famous even in space?”

I spent the last three days hurriedly tidying up, making as warm and welcoming of a space for him as I could. I got rid of a lot of junk, which I tend to collect, to make my apartment feel a little more minimalist—like he could add his own details to it.

I want this to be a home for both of us someday, if he’s open to it. He seems shy and reserved, but after learning where he comes from, I think I understand. He’s probably overwhelmed by Earth, and I need to give him time and space to get settled before I can get to know the true Roth’kar.

“This is it,” I say, gesturing at the kitchen off to the right of the entryway, and to the living room up ahead. “Home sweet home.”

Roth’kar stands in the doorway, unmoving, as he takes in the apartment. I can’t read his expression, which seems to be the norm, as he scans each object.

“This is all yours?” he asks at last, stepping inside so I can close the door behind him. It’s a pretty average sized two-bedroom apartment. The kitchen is small, and in the bathroom, the door gets a little too close to the toilet. It’s nothing special.

“All ours ,” I correct with a smile. His antennae jump to attention, and I find it curious how they seem to betray things his eyes don’t always get across. “Feel free to make changes however you like. I want this to feel like your place, too.”

He doesn’t speak for a long moment, so I head in to show him where he’ll be staying. But his voice stops me.

“Thank you. Thank you for… this.”

I don’t know what this refers to, but I smile anyway. “No problem. Come on in. Let’s put your stuff in the bedroom.”

He stiffens briefly in the doorway.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be in the guest room.” I gesture to follow me, and I lead him away from the living room and down the hall, where there are three doors—two bedrooms and a bathroom. “You’ll be in here.” I open the bedroom door, gesturing to my bed. “And I’ll be over here.”

Looking puzzled, he follows me to the guest room, where the futon has been set up against the wall.

“But this is clearly your personal room,” Roth’kar says as he peers into my bedroom. “That’s where you usually sleep, yes?”

I give an uncertain bob of my head. “Sure. But you’re taller than I am, so you’ll be sleeping on the bed. Until, um, we decide on different arrangements.”

“Different arrangements.” He levels his gaze on me. “I must insist that you sleep in your own bed, Amara. And I will either sleep in it with you or in this other room, whichever makes you more comfortable.”

My mouth falls open. “You want to sleep together already?”

He cocks his head. “My translator says there are two meanings to this phrase.”

Oh, jeez. We’re not even close to that yet.

“In the bed,” I clarify. “You want to sleep there with me?”

“I am fine in the other room, as well,” he says with measured ease.

I had just assumed we’d sleep in separate places, being as we’re, well, strangers. Does he want to just jump right in?

That’s an approach, I guess.

“Um, why don’t we decide at bedtime?” I feel much too awkward for this conversation already. “I’ll make dinner, and we can talk about it.”

I head back to the kitchen, and after a beat, Roth’kar follows along behind me.

There, I pull out chicken thighs, dried apricots and rice to make a tagine, thinking it might be fun to introduce him to some Moroccan food, where my mother’s family comes from.

I’m a little Moroccan, a little Greek, with another small portion of Romanian thrown in from my father’s father.

Eventually Roth’kar seats himself at the dining room table, remaining quiet as I work cutting the thighs. I need to come up with something for us to talk about, but I’m the sort of person who has a single spicy Bloody Mary and tells you her life story, so it shouldn’t be a problem.

“Tell me more about living on a spaceship,” I say as I sear the meat. “This will take at least an hour to cook, so we have time.”

Roth’kar’s resting all four of his hands on the table, which looks like an optical illusion.

“There’s not much to say. My living quarters were…

not this big.” He glances around us at my tiny little condo, and he’s obviously impressed.

What was it like where he comes from? “You have a lovely home, Amara.”

It’s so sincerely spoken that my face heats. “Oh, well, thank you. I think I’ve been wanting to share it with someone for a long time. I got this two-bedroom place last year, and I don’t know why. A room for my cat, I guess. Not that he used it. He was always trying to follow me into the bathroom.”

Roth’kar furrows his brow, waiting for his translator.

“Ah, a cat is a small animal,” he says. “You keep small animals in your home? Where is it? I have not seen it.”

“He died.” My throat closes up just thinking about Elvis. “I’d had him since I was a teenager. I guess it was just his time, but…”

I sniffle, holding the tears at bay.

“Gosh,” I say, waving a hand in front of my face. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get all gushy about my cat.”

But Roth’kar is studying me intently. “What is that coming out of your eyes?”

I try to think of what he means, then realize a few tears must have slipped free. I wipe one off my cheek. “I cried a little. Humans do it when we’re sad.”

He blinks. “Fascinating. A physical reaction to your pain.” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry. About your ‘Elvis.’”

“It’s okay. It just made me realize how lonely I am.” I turn my attention to chopping the vegetables. “That’s why I applied for the Matching Program, I think. There was a hole in my life I was filling with Elvis, until I couldn’t any longer.”

Roth’kar tilts his head. “You wanted a permanent companion.”

That’s one way to put it. “Yeah. Someone who will stay with me… for a long time.” I brighten. “And someone who can use the toilet and doesn’t need me to empty their litter box!”

I think I might have earned a hint of a smile from the stoic alien. I’m rather pleased with myself as I put the food in the oven.

“I don’t know of this litter box , but I can use a waste unit just fine,” he says. “Though you might have to teach me how.”

I remember the elevator. “Our waste units probably aren’t as cool as yours.”

Roth’kar shrugs. “I would say ours are a normal temperature.”

When I snort, he gives me a quizzical look.

“Okay. Let’s go figure out the bathroom while that’s cooking. Seems like a good place to start.”