Reflection Page 3
The man raises his arms. “Now give thanks to the Wanderers who bind us to our sister. Let them feel the love in your heart. For with love, we can conquer everything that challenges us. Love is what holds us to our future and what allows us to forget our past. It is what makes us who we are, and it gives meaning to every living thing.”
The whole time he’s talking, the beautiful singing flows through me. As I gaze up at the sister world, I say thank you to the spirits for releasing me and ask—no—beg them to never leave me. During my short prayer, I feel something grasp onto my fingertips. With shock and confusion, I pull my arms away and rub my hands together; nothing real has touched me.
“Ahh, Convergence,” the man says. “That is good, the spirits have heard your plea.” He is smiling.
“Con-what?”
“Convergence, you were touched by the spirits just now. You felt it, yes?”
I don’t respond. I don’t know what to say. Something did touch me, but I can’t explain it. My dad is smiling. Silently, the man rejoins the others. Whether it’s God or gravity, I’m not sure, but at that moment, they are one and the same to me.
4
INTO TOWN
ONCE YOU get to know him, Abeytu is quite fun to be around in a strange, ritualistic sort of way. He’s such a tall and thin man that it’s almost comical.
“Good morning,” he says with a huge smile. Abeytu always has a huge smile, now that I think about it.
I smile back and try not to smirk at his sandaled feet. His toes are big, much larger than an ordinary man’s. But what do I know about ordinary anything anymore.
“Good morning to you, Abeytu.” I say his name slowly, so I get the pronunciation right. “You’re coming with us?”
“Yes, your father invited me.”
I decide to pry into his life a little. “Do you have any relatives here?”
“Yes, and no,” he answers. “Some are here and others are at a distance. I must be here for my work.” He takes a seat on the porch swing and stares down at me.
“And what do you do exactly…for work, I mean?”
“You would call me a researcher,” he answers glancing into the cabin. “So, are you excited about visiting town today?”
“Oh yes, I want to know everything about this place, and my life or what my life’s supposed to be now that I don’t know anything about it.”
“There is a lot for you to learn,” he replies as Makayah bounces out of the cabin happy as always.
“Hi, Abeytu,” she says, giving him a hug. She really likes this man.
“Hi, Princess, are we ready to go?”
“Yep, Daddy says for us to wait in the car,” she answers hopping off the porch.
“Well, I guess we should get in the car then.” Abeytu stands.
Dad walks out of the cabin. “Wonderful morning,” he says staring out at the lake. “Should be a nice day after all, my friend.”
“Yes it should,” Abeytu replies.
The drive into town is interesting. Buildings similar to Earth’s line the streets, and people fill the sidewalks wearing what look like–bathrobes, colorful bathrobes.
I giggle.
“What’s so funny, Journey? It’s really not that much different from home, is it?” Dad glances back at me and winks.
“Not much different?” I ask trying to absorb everything I’m seeing. “Everyone is wearing bathrobes—in public.”
He laughs. “When the Wanderers visit us, many enjoy wearing their tribal clothing. They’re wearing robes, Journey, not bathrobes.”
“Well they still look funny to me,” I say staring out the window.
“Do you think I look funny?” Abeytu asks from the front seat.
“Well, now that you mention it.” I feel a little embarrassed for me now. “Why don’t you wear jeans or something more normal?”
“It is custom. Times are changing and some of the younger ones, those your age, are wearing less formal attire. But for us, we do not wish to let go of our past.” Abeytu sounds a little sad.
The sights outside my window hold my attention. The streets are paved and cars are passing us or parked along the streets. Then it hits me. “Hey, we’re driving cars here.”
“Of course, we’re driving cars,” Dad says. “Where do you think people of Earth got the idea?”
“What?” I’m not really grasping what he’s insinuating.
“People all over the universe have to get around in some fashion. Cars and trains are common throughout the galaxies. The only difference is what makes them go. For example, we use a form of nuclear power. We never have to charge a battery or refill a gas tank.”
Universe? My mind repeats. Galaxies? Not wanting to feel even more stupid, I sigh and say, “Well of course. But what if you get into an accident? I mean wouldn’t it cause a nuclear explosion or something?”
“As I said, something similar to nuclear power.”
“What were you thinking? Maybe hover-cars or tiny little spaceships?” Makayah asks, pinching her fingers together and waving them in front of my face.
“Very funny,” I snap, slapping her hand away.
Everything I see reminds me of a small town from the fifties. “Okay, where’s the Wal-Mart?”
“Stores here are family owned,” Abeytu explains. “You will find no—What do you call them?—chain stores. Our people work to live, unlike on Earth where people live to work. We are only concerned about making enough to survive comfortably.”
“You’re right, Abeytu,” Dad adds. “People on Earth only care about how much money they can make for as little amount of work possible.”
“Where are we going first?” I ask, hoping my question will stop my dad’s lectures. Once he gets started, getting him to stop is difficult.
“The market, we need groceries.” He turns the car into a small driveway between two brick buildings.
“This is so cool.” My mind twirls with the possibilities, and my anticipation soars.
We park behind a small store and as I step out of the car, a thin young girl of about ten or eleven with bluish green skin and amber eyes walks past. She’s wearing jeans and an orange T-shirt with something written on it that I can’t read, but I recognize the Nike logo. Her hair is a brownish-red and pulled into a ponytail. A thin leather strap is attached to her hair and drops down her back. She smiles and says “Hi” as she passes. Makayah waves back and runs into the store. I can’t move.
“Uh, Dad?”
Hugging me around the shoulders he explains, “Don’t be alarmed. She’s from our sister world and her race is called Swetaachata. Her people and ours now share both worlds.”
“Oh.” I follow him, not knowing what else to say.
Walking into the small market, eagerness consumes me. The store has all kinds of fresh food I’ve never seen or tasted, and all within my reach. I grab several of everything that doesn’t look familiar and toss them into our cart. Dad watches me as though he’s experiencing it all for the first time. There are strawberries that have blue and yellow stripes. I doubt if they’re called strawberries, but that’s what they look like. I’m staring at them when my dad plops one into my mouth. A wonderful flavor I can never put into words explodes on my tongue. The juice runs down my throat and I instantly want more.
“These are great, what are they?” I wipe the juice off my chin with the back of my hand.
“Ovarfleash, they’re the fruit of the Most Holy,” he answers. “An old story tells of a war that was once fought over these little berries.”
“Did Mom ever come in here?” I ask, stealing another one.
“Yes, she does, and your mother loves these,” he says with a tenderness that warms my heart. “She would eat these for hours, and then spend the rest of the afternoon in the bathroom.”
“Dad.” I slap him on the arm. “Please, that’s more information than I need.”
“Well, it’s the truth, she loved these.” He picks up a little brown berry and hands it to me
. “Here, try one.”
Although he still speaks of her in the present, my heart tightens as I remember her. But my emotions are rescued as my mind drifts over the new flavor of the little fruit. The berry is just as juicy and sweet as the other one, and I love it.
“What is this?” I ask, trying to ignore his statement about my mother.
“Now that is a Chachafleash,” he explains. “It’s from a valley on Journey. Very popular here.”
“I’m liking it on this world more and more already.” I grin as I shove another Chachafleash into my mouth.
As I pick out those I think are ripe, I notice a young man searching through what looks like orange bananas with black stripes from a large wicker basket. I don’t mean to stare, but he is gorgeous. His skin is a light bluish-green just like the girl from outside. He isn’t shiny, but his skin reflects the light as if he’d just applied oil or lotion. His hair is a dark reddish-brown with blonde and red highlights. Several strands are braided with a leather strap that is decorated with a few beads. Some of his hair is pulled into a ponytail, but the rest falls loosely down his back to his waist. He’s also wearing jeans.
George glances over at the boy. “What a surprise, I do believe that is Takodaovi.”
Doesn’t anyone have a normal name around here?
“Takodaovi?” Dad yells, waving.
The boy turns around. His face is amazing; I can’t take my eyes off him. He stands almost as tall as my father with broad shoulders and lean muscles. His eyes are large, and I’m surprised to see that they’re the same color of mine, amber. I’m in love with his lips, for they are a deep shade of pink.
“Sir?” Takodaovi says. “How very nice to see you again, my lord.” He nods in the same strange way Abeytu did the other day.
“I’d like you to meet my daughter, Journey. Journey, this is Takodaovi. His father is a co-worker and very dear friend of mine.”
I can’t talk and I can’t breathe. All I can do is hope he doesn’t notice the juice dribbling down my chin and onto my new yellow top. Takodaovi doesn’t smile right away, because he’s staring at me. Probably wondering what is wrong with me.
“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Journey.”
That voice! I’m melting from the inside. I have this urge to grab him and never let go. Dad stares at me, quizzically.
“Journey? Are you all right?” he asks with honest concern.
“Uh huh,” I mumble, but I can’t talk. I can only make a crooked little grin and pray that I find a hole or something to crawl into. Have I just fallen in love at first sight with an alien from another galaxy?
With Dad holding back a laugh and looking very amused, he says something that changes my life forever. “Takodaovi, Journey will be starting classes later this month. Could I impose on you and ask if you would be kind enough to show her around the campus? I could drop her off at your cabin, or you can pick her up at ours. I think it would be easier on her if she’s familiar with the place before classes begin.”
Now I know I’m going to faint, and when I hit the floor my head will split and roll into two different directions. I grab onto the fruit stand for support. I can’t go anywhere with this guy! He’s just too drop-dead gorgeous.
“I would be honored, sir,” Takodaovi replies without hesitation
“Journey?” Dad asks with a worried look. “Are you okay?”
Mustering all my courage I whimper a small, “Yes.”
“Miss Journey, I am free tomorrow. Perhaps I can escort you then, and introduce you to the governors?”
I giggle. I’m thinking this guy could take me anywhere he wants. I nod and wipe the juice from my chin. But I’m probably just smearing it all over my face. My dad and Takodaovi say their goodbyes. I stand there gawking like an idiot. I have never felt so stupid.
“Maybe you’ve had one too many berries?” Dad suggests with concern. “Maybe you’re allergic or something?”
“Yeah, maybe I’m allergic.” Allergic to Takodaovi.
As I’m trying to recoup from the most embarrassing moment in my life, Makayah runs up to us. “Journey,” Makayah laughs. “You have red stuff all over your face, and I think you ruined your new shirt.”
“Come, little one,” Abeytu says pulling her away. He glances at me with pity. “Let us see what is in the cereal section. Perhaps we can find you something good to eat.”
The rest of the day flies by in a blur, because all I can think about is him. My father keeps looking at me like I have totally lost it, and I can’t concentrate on anything he’s telling me. It isn’t until we return to the cabin that I start to feel a little more like myself. But all the while, I cannot get Takodaovi out of my mind.
Earlier in the week, I saw a computer in my father’s study. Curiosity is getting the best of me, so I decide to snoop. I have to find out more about these blue people. After a dinner of fresh fish and potatoes, I decide to ask Dad.
“Dinner was great, Journey,” Dad compliments me as he helps me clear the counter.
“Daddy, can I watch some TV?” Makayah asks as she gulps down the rest of her milk.
“A little.” Dad studies me as he sits the dishes next to the sink.
Now is the perfect time, I tell myself, because he’s preoccupied with Makayah. “Dad? Do we have internet on this planet?”
He places the last dish onto the counter. “Yes, you can use my laptop until I pick one up for you. The system is set to English so you shouldn’t have any problems. Just click the icon that looks like a small television. The rest is pretty much like the Internet you’re used to back home. Holler if you have any problems. You cooked, so I’ll take care of these dishes, sweetie.”
“Cool, Dad, thanks.” I head for his office.
As usual, Dad is right. The Internet is just like at home. My only issue is that I can’t spell what I want to look up. I glance around George’s study and see several books on a shelf that catch my eyes. I’m lucky, the first book I grab is just the one I need. It’s titled, History of the Swetaachata People. I skim through the book, there are pictures of people who resemble Takodaovi and the girl from the parking lot. But the writing is not English, so I can’t read any of the captions.
“They’re an interesting people, Journey. Want me to tell you about them?”
I jump and drop the book. I didn’t hear Dad sneak up on me. “Sure,” I must sound a little too eager because he chuckles.
“It’s a beautiful evening. Why don’t we sit outside?”
The fresh air reminds me of rosemary and pine. The sister planet and moons hover just above the treetops. The sun reflects off of Journey, keeping the evening in a layer of heavy twilight. Standing around the lake, the Wanderers softly chant their prayers of respect. Everything is perfect.
“Do they ever eat or sleep?” I ask, as we sit on the porch swinging together.
“They must, because they’re just as human as we are.”
The chanting is soothing, not too loud, not too soft, just right. Perhaps I’m finally settling into my new life. I miss my mom something terrible, but if I have to be somewhere, here is where I want to be.
“Well, how to start,” Dad says thinking out loud. “Most of this you’ll learn in your classes, but I guess it wouldn’t hurt to tell you what I know. The Swetaachata are from our sister planet, Journey. You were named after her because your mother loved it so much. We spent many of our nights sleeping outside under her. She could gaze upon her for hours.”
Dad pauses as if remembering a precious memory. I smile. I really wish I could have had them both at the same time. I feel cheated out of something special.
“The Swetaachatas are tribal. Their numbers must be in the millions by now. We made contact with them many thousands of generations ago. In fact, a long time before Earth was fully colonized.”
“Earth was colonized?” I repeat, confused.
“Yes. We’ll leave that little bit of history for your professors. The Swetaachata are a very proud people. To the Swetaa
chata, education is almost a religion. They do not put a face on their God like we do. They consider their God as their maker and provider, not someone to worship as we do on Earth.”
“Do they pray to our planet like the Wanderers do to theirs?” I ask.
“As a matter of fact, they do. When our ancestors first met the Swetaachata, they discovered that our beliefs were almost identical. We both pray to our sister planet as it passes. Our only real difference is our skin color, a factor of our environments—or so the scientists tell us. We can survive on Journey as they can survive here. But something in Journey’s atmosphere causes a change in the child while inside the mother.”
“Are you telling me that if Mom carried me on Journey…?”
“That you would have been a different color? Yes, that’s why she stayed here during her pregnancy. She thought you should resemble us as much as possible.”
“Interesting.” I have so many questions I don’t know where to start.
“As we traded between planets,” Dad continues, “we got to know each other and how similar we are. But we also learned we are different.”
“Different?” I ask. “How?”
“We have a two-chambered heart where theirs has three or four. We have a liver to purify our blood, and they have a different organ for that.”
“Can we mate with them?” I ask, blushing.
He laughs at my question. “No, Journey, it is forbidden.”
“Why?”
“Well, unions were tried, but no child survived. After many years of broken hearts, the council decided to prohibit a union, or marriage, between our people.” I must have given a strange look because my father adds, “It’s better this way, Journey. And it guarantees that our races remain pure.”
“I’m a crossbreed. I’m half Earthling, and…” I realize I have no idea what my mother called herself. “So what is my other half?”
“Fornaxian. These planets are in the Fornax galaxy. Some believe that your ancestors who colonized this planet came from a distant unknown galaxy. We have no way of knowing if life still exists there. We’ve found some ruins on planets in the nearby solar systems. But we cannot verify if our ancient theories are correct. The teachings only go back so far and beyond that there are no written records. Even the Swetaachata have limited teachings in regard to their origins. The people here are as the people of Earth, naive about where they come from. As do we, they must rely on their religions or ancient carvings for what truths they can find.”