Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 34527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 173(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 173(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
So I wear a bright smile when I knock on Liesje’s door the next day. “Good morning,” I call out when she opens it. “I’m here to make your day better with my presence.”
Liesje snorts. “I’ve been here for months and this is the first time any alien has shown interest in making my day better. Devin put you up to this, didn’t she?”
“What? Never.”
“You’re such a bad liar.” But she gives me a hint of a smile and opens her door wider. “You might as well come on in or I’ll never hear the end of it.”
I enter the small, dark house. It’s still cramped and dusty, with boxes everywhere and so many noodle wrappers I can’t see the floor. Reminds me of my place after my grandmother passed and there was no one to care if I made a mess or not. But Liesje herself is wearing a clean tunic, and her hair, although dirty, is brushed and pulled into a tail at the base of her neck. It’s a start. Small steps are just as important as big ones.
“I’m glad she has a man in her life,” Liesje says as I step inside. “Devin likes to pretend she doesn’t need anyone, but I’ve seen her carrying that rodent around like it’s a baby. She’s sad, too. You can see it in her eyes.”
“Is she?” I keep my tone mild, even as I mentally flick through my memories of Devin from yesterday, trying to determine if her eyes were sad or not. She was fiery and quick to snap at me, but that doesn’t mean she’s sad. “I don’t think so. She hasn’t said anything to me.”
Liesje grunts. “I’m surprised she even talks to you. She doesn’t like mesakkah.”
Odd. Doubly odd given that she volunteered to kiss me yesterday. But perhaps that is how she’s gotten her way in the past—trading favors. If so, that makes me uncomfortable, and a little angry. She shouldn’t have to bestow kisses on strangers just to get them to help her. “She likes me just fine. I grow on people, like a rash.”
That elicits a chuckle from her.
I feel like I’m making progress. Setting the supplies on the tiny bit of counter space I can make, I glance over at Liesje. “Before I head out to check on your bots, is there anything I can do for you in here? Make you a pot of tea? Prepare some noodles?” I gesture at the floor. “Burn this all to the ground and start fresh?”
She blinks and then laughs at my words, her hands on her hips. “It’s pretty bad, isn’t it?”
I shrug. “My apartment was worse after my family passed away. It felt like too much to bother with. I tried to join the military to get away from everything, but I cleaned it up anyhow because I didn’t want to leave it for someone else. But I recognize the signs. If you want help cleaning up, I can do that. If not, that’s fine, too. I’m just letting you know the offer is there.”
Liesje stares at me for a really long time. I’m not sure if I’ve pushed too hard. I don’t have the charm of Khex or the affability of Ainar. Everything I say could come across wrong. She takes a moment to respond, and then her lower lip wobbles. “Is it true what they say? About Earth being gone?”
“That’s what I’ve heard, yes.”
She closes her eyes, her shoulders slumping. “Then my son will be dead for sure. He would have been twenty-six this year.”
“I’m sorry. I wish I could change that for you.” I know from experience that nothing I say will change how she feels, but I suspect someone needs to acknowledge that she’s grieving. That she’s not doing well. Devin wants to fix it by pretending there’s no problem. Sometimes you have to acknowledge that there is a problem so the person hurting knows that it’s all right to be in pain. That no one expects otherwise.
Liesje just nods, hugging her chest.
I gesture at the door. “I should go work on the field bots. If you like, you can tell me about him while I work?”
She pauses, and for a long moment, I think she’s going to say no. But then she shrugs. “Fine. I’ve got nothing else to do.”
“Excellent. I should like to hear your stories.” I pull the warm, fleecy poncho off of the box of supplies I brought. “You should wear this. It’s cold.”
“Who are you, my mother?” Liesje retorts. But she puts it on anyhow and follows me outside.
Unsurprisingly, her bots have not had their maintenance cycles ran. They all need oiling and a firmware update, and one of them is offline entirely. I go through and work on them without complaint, noting that her barn is empty as well. This is probably a good thing, as meat-stock might be too much for Liesje to handle right now. As I work, I point out what I’m doing out of habit. I have shown many colonists how to run maintenance on their bots, and I’m good at describing without placing blame.