Sol, p.9
Sol, page 9
part #3 of Lyqa Planet Lovers Series
SOLUANITIAT’TI SOMIITI’UN
Sheh?
When I step out onto the ledge, she folds her head deeper into the protection of her arms. She is shaking. A thin layer of frost coats her skin.
Sheh, you must come back to the warmth.
She ignores me, but her head jerks back and forth.
Sheh, please. You do not have to be afraid.
This time, she does not respond. I take a step toward her. No warmth emanates from her small body. She will perish if he does not return to the cave.
“I’d rather freeze to death. I’m not going back in there.”
The thought pushes out from her mind, and my stomach drops. That feeling I had in the wood rushes through me, urgent and fierce. I lean down and scoop her freezing body from the ground. She tenses, pushing at my chest, and scrambling to get away.
“No! Put me down! I can’t!”
I will not let you die.
I carry her struggling form back into the cave and take her to the fire, settling down and positioning her on my lap. She wraps her arms around my shoulders, pressing her face against my plume. In the quiet, her soft sobs sound out.
“I don’t want to be in here with that thing.”
She means our ovum. Her words cause a discomfort in my chest.
Our ovum will not hurt you, Sheh.
“Sol! I don’t want to be in here with that fucking egg!”
She wails loudly, her body fidgeting with the desire to be away. I let my eyes travel over to the pile of cloth.
It is just an ovum, but I never could have imagined something so beautiful. And it is mine and Sheh’s. It is ours.
“I want to go home.”
We can leave for my home tomorrow.
She sniffles.
“I don’t want to go to your home. I want to go to mine. I want to go back to Lyqa. I don’t want to be here anymore.”
I do not know what to say, so I say the thing that will make her happy.
I will return you to your home.
Finally, she settles against my chest. Her breath catches on each inhale. She has not turned her face from my chest.
“I’m tired.”
Sleep, Sheh. I will keep you by the fire until you are warm, and then I will put you to bed.
Her body relaxes, and her breathing deepens. She pushes herself closer to my body.
“Don’t put that thing near me, Sol,” she murmurs as she finally succumbs to exhaustion.
***
Before I ease to the floor, I adjust the cradle of cloth holding our ovum. The smooth leathery sac ripples with movement. I have never seen a developing ovum up close. It is fascinating to watch the growth, to know what is inside. It does the same thing that Sheh’s smiling face does. It sets off a tingling warmth throughout my chest. I lay a protective hand over the tight surface.
“Nooo!”
Sheh’s tortured voice echos from the other side of the fire where I laid her to sleep. I sit up and look across to see her tossing back and forth. The fire light dances over her skin, revealing that she is covered in a sheen of sweat. Her face contorts, and her arms thrash dangerously close to the flames.
I rush over to Sheh’s side. Before I even touch her, I can feel the heat pulsing out from her body. I press my hand gently to her brow, and her skin sears my palm. She has a fever.
Sheh?
I search her brain. My Sheh is always thinking of everything, but the things that flicker through her mind are jumbled and make no sense. I am there, except I am fashioned as a bird. The feathers of my plume are long and cover my back and arms. They surround my middle in a thick skirt. A bushy tail sticks out behind me.
I prance across the cave making strange noises and flapping my arms. Sheh laughs and claps for me as I perform this odd display. In the corner of the cave, covered in shadow, is her Lyqa. Bati’s elder brother. The one who left her at the market. He watches her with a smirk, his arms crossed over his chest.
I strut before Sheh and bend at the knee. I large, white sphere drops from between my spread legs and rolls gently on the cave floor. Sheh’s eyes train on the shiny orb, and slowly her expression transforms from joy to horror. At once, I realize what this sphere represents. It is our ovum.
The sphere stills. A loud tapping precedes two small holes appearing on the widest end. From the holes, a pair of spindly, taloned feet poke out, wiggling in the air.
“No!”
Sheh scrambles back as the feet find grounding and pull the sphere upright. A muffle cheep emits from the shell. The thin legs wobble and take a tentative step toward her retreating form.
“No! No! No!”
Sheh’s eyes are wide and panicked as she tries to get away.
I watch this scene play out in her mind—the strange, walking egg, my odd presentation—and I understand her fear now. She believes she has birthed a beast. The image she has conjured in her mind is so absurd that if I was not worried about the state of her health, I would throw my head back and cackle as Sheh so often does.
She continues to struggle against her troubled dreams. Delirium has taken over her. I know the only way to soothe her illness is to cool her.
The gourd sits a few feet away. Some of the warmed water from earlier is leftover. I go to the mouth of the cave and step out onto the ledge. Shards of ice hang from the side of the mountain. I break one off and carry it back inside, dropping it into the gourd.
I dip a clean scrap of my kesh into the cool water and brush it over Sheh’s forehead. She whimpers, but turns her face into the cloth. I wipe across her face and down her neck. She has kicked off the dress that covered her body. I stroke cool water over the swells of her breasts, her flat stomach.
My Sheh. I have not had time to look at her. Our fukhing was frenzied. The newness of being inside of her was intense on its own. But I look at her now as I temper her fever, and she is beautiful.
Her skin is an even, sable brown. She is small, so much smaller than I am, but her legs and hips are round and fleshy. They were strong along my waist as we joined. Above her flat stomach, the dark tips of her breasts poke into the air. Her skin puckers as I pass the cloth again over one mound and then the other. As I care for her, I think of what Sheh said before she slept.
She wishes to go home. I know this new urgency to leave is due to our ovum. Before this surprising circumstance, I had thought perhaps to convince her to stay with me. I thought, perhaps, that she—liked—me.
I touch my hand to her cheek, and she is cool to the touch. The fever has passed, and in the morning, she will want to leave. I look over to our ovum nestled in the pile of cloth. It will need to be cared for, and I will do my best.
I leave Sheh and go back to our ovum. I lay on my side and cradle it in the crook of my arm. I hear it stirring, and again I am awed by this small, new thing. Both me and Sheh. Us.
CHAPTER 11
LASHAY
I don’t want to open my eyes. I had crazy dreams. All Big Bird Terminator and walking eggs. Ugh. I can’t. Even though I know I have to.
I’ve been in shock. Having a fucking egg fall out of my cooch is enough reason to go into shock, I think, but still. I can’t hide from it forever. That little thing is here, and even though it freaks me the hell out, I can’t just not deal with it. But, god, it freaks me the hell out.
I stare at the dark insides of my eyelids and do a mental hand clasp.
“Black Jesus, why did you do me like this? I thought we were cool? Is it cause I fucked the alien? Should I not have done that? I’m sorry, but please, PLEASE, don’t let this fucking egg crack open and some creepy ass baby chicken person chase me around this cave. A-fucking-men.”
Taking a deep breath, I peel one eye open. The cave is unusually bright. A stab of light cuts across the ceiling. I open my other eye.
“Sheh.”
Sol comes into view above me, and I stare past him.
“Hey.”
My voice comes out on a croak. I clear it. I’m thirsty.
“Drink.”
He’s kneeling beside me in a second, tilting a small gourd to my lips. Instinctively, I pull back.
“It is water. It will help you. You were ill.”
“I was?”
He nods and presses the makeshift cup to my lips again. I open this time, and cool, sweet water slides into my parched mouth. I gulp greedily, and the liquid seems to revive me. I feel like a sponge that’s been dropped into a sink full of water.
When the water is gone, a lay back, breathing deeply. Now that I’m awake, I can feel the differences in my body. I feel achy and stiff. Like I’ve been laying down for a long time. I turn wide eyes on Sol.
“How long was I sick?”
His droopy lids shift down even more. He looks worried.
“Three rotations. You did not recover as quickly as I thought you would.”
Three days! I close my eyes and slap a weak hand over my face.
“Ugh, why do you hate me, Black Jesus!”
“Do not worry, Sheh, you are well now.”
I drop my hand and focus back on him. It feels like I haven’t seen him in a long time, and I guess I haven’t. I think I may have missed his face.
“Did you take care of me?”
I did.
As soon as the answer floats through my head, I miss his voice.
“Don’t do the in the head thing, right now. Talk to me.”
He nods and stares.
“While you were recovering, I have prepared us to leave. If you feel well enough, we can depart as soon as you have eaten and dressed.”
That perks me up. I lift onto my elbows.
“We can go? You’re gonna get me home?”
Again, he stares at me before he answers.
“Of course, Sheh. I will return you to Lyqa.”
Sol helps me up so I can pee, and I feel out my body. I can tell I was sick, but I actually feel alright. A little weak, but okay. I turn to the opening of the cave and walk toward it.
Outside, the wind is surprisingly warmer. It’s still cold as hell, but as I squat a few feet away, I only shiver a little. Still, I hurry, shaking off the drip as much as I can, and dip back inside.
Sol is by the fire. His back is turned to me as he bends over his lap. I scurry to the other side.
As I sit down, Sol’s hands move quickly like he’s wrapping something up. He gently lays the bundle to the side and turns to face me. His expression is blank.
“Dress warmly, Sheh. If we move at a responsible pace, we can cover considerable ground before night. We will have to rest often. You will be weak for a few days still and our—my—ovum cannot be transported for too long.”
My breathing picks up when he mentions the egg. As if sensing my panic, Sol comes around and takes my hand.
“Do not worry, Sheh. I will care for it out of your sight. I do not want you to be frightened. You should not concern yourself. Just pretend as if it is not even here.”
I should be relieved, but his words make me feel kind of shitty. Maybe it’s not that bad. Whatever it is. Sol brings my hand up and presses his lips against the back. It isn’t quite a kiss.
“Dress, Sheh. Let us leave.”
***
My Lyqa dress is torn, but it still covers all the good stuff. Sol goes to the front of the cave and yanks down his kilt, shaking it out vigorously.
“I will wrap you, so you are warm.”
He tears about two yards of the fabric off and sets it aside. I lift my arms when he approaches and he efficiently completes the task of bundling me up. Something’s different. Sol barely looks at me, and when he’s done, he steps away, putting a good five feet between us.
“If you will wait outside of the cave, I will join you in a moment.”
I leave the cave and wait on the ledge outside. A few minutes later, Sol comes out. He’s still in his loincloth, but strapped across his chest is a volleyball sized bundle. He holds a hand protectively over it, keeping a few feet between us. My eyes linger on the concealed ball, but I know what’s in there. It got big.
“Do not look at it Sheh. Pretend it is not here. Come.”
He takes off down the mountain, moving at a slow, steady pace. I follow after him, watching my footing. I don’t feel ill, but my body definitely feels weak. The muscles in my legs shake as we carefully descend the mountain.
It doesn’t take long for us to reach the base. When we do, I pause, bracing my hands on my knees and dragging in a deep breath. Sol stops a few feet away and turns.
Are you well, Sheh? Can you continue?
I wave a hand.
“No, I’m good, just a little winded. You can go. I’ll catch up.”
I will wait. I will not leave you.
I take another deep breath and straighten. I shake my legs out and press my eyes closed for a moment. When I open them, Sol is waiting patiently.
Can you continue?
I nod.
We do not have to go far. When you cannot continue, we will rest.
I fall in line behind him again, stepping where he steps to avoid the worst of the terrain. I get tired again quickly, and it kinda makes me miss him carrying me around.
I watch Sol’s back as we travel. The muscles are tense. His arms are wrapped over his front. Over the egg. He’s protecting it.
The only sound is our footsteps, but I have a feeling Sol is on alert for anything in the distance. Still, the silence is lonely. Since I woke up, Sol’s been distant to say the least. Even for him, king of I ain’t got no feelings, this silence feels like punishment.
“Are you mad at me, Sol?”
He doesn’t stop, and he doesn’t answer right away. I wonder if he heard me, but of course he did. He can hear my thoughts.
I am not angered with you, Sheh. I do not experience these feelings.
He can’t see the frown I throw at his back. Sol may think he’s some feelingless robot, but he’s not. Of anyone I have ever met, he’s probably the most feeling. He’s not so good at the expressions, but he feels stuff.
“Would you even know if you were mad at me?”
I do not know.
He takes a large fallen tree trunk with ease, lifting one leg and then the other over. I brace myself on the bark and haul one leg over to straddle it. By the time I get the other over, I have a stitch in my side. I jog to catch up, huffing as I slow to a walk a few feet behind him.
“Well, I think we should figure out if you’re mad at me. You’re acting weird, and no girl wants to give up her v-card to some dude and have him act weird.”
I do not know this v-card.
“It doesn’t matter. The point is, I don’t want you to be mad at me,” I pant as I try to keep up. I can’t talk and walk. I need to save my breath. “Can you hear me?”
I can, Sol answers back immediately.
“So we’re gonna do a test. I’m gonna ask you some questions and you answer honestly, and then I’ll tell you if you’re mad at me, okay?”
This is important to you? To know if I am mad at you?
I visualize myself shrugging.
“I mean, I guess. I know things are kind of weird right now, especially with the thing that will not be named, but I thought we were kind of liking each other and don’t like how it feels between us now, you know?”
Again, he does not answer right away. When he does, the voice is gentle in my head.
I do know.
“Good, so let’s just clear the air and figure this shit out, okay?” I don’t give him time to answer. “Okay. First question, why aren’t you talking to me?”
His torso turns slightly so I can just make out the subtle downturn of his eyebrows.
We are talking now, Sheh.
I roll my eyes.
“You know what I mean, Sol. One minute you’re all ‘I have a crush on you,’ but now you’re all blah.”
What is blah.
“I just mean you aren’t acting the same. We’ve been walking for almost an hour, and if I hadn’t said something, you’d probably have stayed quiet the whole time.”
He lifts a long vine and tosses it to the side as he passes. The trees are getting thick. It’s making it harder to get through them without using a lot of energy. I’m finding myself climbing over stuff more and more. The stitch gets sharper.
I spoke to you before because I wanted to know you. I wanted you to know me. This no longer feels appropriate. I think, perhaps, I should not have a crush on you.
“Oh.”
I’m not expecting that. I thought he was gonna say he just didn’t have anything to talk about. I’m so stunned that I trip, putting my hands out too late to catch myself, and hit my cheek against the littered forest floor. I sharp pain sears my temple, but I find myself chuckling as I spit dirt and leaves from my mouth.
“Figures.”
I crawl to all fours. Now that I’m on the ground, the full force of my fatigue hits me. I’m tired as hell. I need a nap. I’m too tempted to just lay my head right back where it was and call it a day.
I wait for Sol to come rushing back in a tizzy cause I’ve hurt myself—again—but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even turn around. He’s stopped ahead of me, but that is the only indication he even knows I fell.
I rise unsteadily to my feet, dusting off the front of my wrap. I take an extra long time, but still Sol doesn’t move. After a few more seconds of trying to get some pity, I start walking again. The moment my foot lands on the first step, Sol starts moving ahead of me.
“Sol, just so you know, you are totally mad at me.”
SOLUANITIAT’TI SOMIITI’UN
I do not know if I am mad as Sheh has said, but I will not deny that I feel something. It is not displeasure. It is something else. Something that makes me want to do the kiss with her every moment my eyes fall on her beautiful face, but also makes my chest tighten when I think about her rejecting our ovum. I cannot say if this is anger, but it is not what I want.
I did not help Sheh when she fell to protect our ovum. I can already sense its swirling formation. For my kind, the sensitivity to pain is said to be present from fertilization. I can withstand Sheh’s constant, unintentional harming of herself, but I do not know if our ovum can.
