Alien Holiday by Tracy Lauren
Chapter 11
Resa
I spot Lo coming over the hill and my heart skips a beat. I’m not excited, I tell myself, smoothing my hand over my chest to calm the storm inside. No, this feeling must be perturbation by her insistence to bother me. “These aliens have no boundaries,” I grumble as I rush down the mountain to meet her.
I don’t like the idea of her walking alone. It isn’t safe. In my early years, when there were still a few sparse family tribes spread out across the mountains, it was not an unusual thing for someone to fall victim to nature. I don’t want that to happen to Lo, even if she is invasive, tenacious, overly determined, and…fairly attractive for an annoying little alien.
When our paths finally coincide, I stop in my tracks. She’s trudging through the mud, heavily burdened with a load in her arms and a bright, welcoming smile on her face. What’s she always so happy about anyway? I scowl, wishing we could communicate.
“Morning!” she chirps, passing me a pot laden with goods. I peer inside, but the contents are mostly foreign to me.
“Wooo, thanks. That was getting heavy.” And then, she continues her trek up the mountain—as if this is her home and not mine. I stand my ground, but she doesn’t seem to care in the least. Turning back to me, she rolls her eyes.
“Oh no. We’re past that. Come on, I have a surprise for you. A Christmas surprise!” Her eyes light up and her tone is cheery. I haven’t a clue what she’s saying, but she’s mentioned this Christmas word before and it seems to be something of importance. I hate to admit this, and I’d never admit it to her…but I am vaguely curious—if only for the fact that her ways are so foreign to me.
Lo, she chatters all the way up the trail, practically begging any nearby predators to come and try their chances with us. She’s lucky I am a strong hunter; the dangers out here are real. So, while she talks, I remain watchful of our surroundings (and slowly grow angry that she does not). This troublesome female, she takes her safety for granted. How has Lo, small and fragile as she is, survived this long with the way she traipses about the forest all on her own? It is by pure luck that we reach my cave without any trouble, and by the time we do I have half a mind to give the males of her village a stern talking-to. They should keep better stewardship of their females.
At the mouth of my cave Lo doesn’t hesitate. Rather, she leads the way, waving me in as if I am her guest. I stand in the entryway with her pot, frowning and waiting for her to notice my displeasure—but she does not. She makes herself at home, stirring the fire back to life and rummaging through my dried herbs, randomly picking up bundles and smelling them. Finally she notices me.
“What are you doing? Get over here.” She tugs the pot, pulling me in.
I want an explanation, but without conversation…it is difficult. And my grumbling doesn’t seem to faze her one bit. So, I join her by the fire—looking over her shoulder as, item by item, she empties the contents of the pot
There’s a large cut of raw meat. Far more than two people would ever be able to eat in one sitting. Oh no, no, no. She is not bringing more aliens into my home. I point at the meat, “Gabby, Holly, April, Mel.” I shake my head no.
Lo brushes off my concern with a warm smile. “No, just Lo and Resa. And we’ll split the leftovers…if they’re any good. We’ll have to keep our fingers crossed.” I don’t catch all of that, but at the very least ours were the only names she mentioned.
After the meat she retrieves her own small bundle of spices and herbs, as well as bag of some kind of large grain, followed by something that is entirely alien to me.
“This is garland.” She smiles proudly as she holds up a long, fragile chain of bright red and green circles. “It’s kind of cheesy,” she explains in her language. I focus in on her eyes and hand gestures, trying to derive meaning. “We used to make stuff like this in elementary school as a countdown until Christmas.” Her smile is soft and reminiscent. “For some reason the handmade stuff has always been my favorite—even if it is a little simple. There’s nothing wrong with simple, right?” And even though I don’t know what she’s saying, I feel inclined to agree. Lo looks around the cave and settles her gaze on a spot over my bed. I watch, curious as she works to drape the long chain there.
What is she doing and what is the meaning of this garland? Is this some kind of ritual?
She puts her hands on her hips as she admires her work. “Now, I know you can’t understand me in the strictest sense, so I don’t have to try and keep your presents a secret. This garland is the first thing. And this…” She points to the pot and food. “This is the next. I’m going to cook for you. And not to make a big deal, but this is kind of a big deal.
“Ever since I’ve been on Elysia I haven’t tried to cook any of my culture’s traditional dishes—I’m Mexican, by the way—but today that stops. I’m going to embrace my culture and share it with anyone who will let me. So, this is kind of a gift to me too. We’re sharing it.
“I’ve decided, ya know? I’m not going to lose my culture just because I have to work a little harder to maintain it.”
It seems like she’s waiting for a response, so I nod.
“Alright. Let’s do this.”
Lo builds up a stone structure to support her pot over the fire and then gets to work with her seasonings. In a few short minutes my cave is heavy with the scent of spices like I have never experienced before. They burns my eyes and nose, yet at the same time they make my mouth water. I move closer so I can watch her methods, and even though I cannot understand her words, she explains everything as she does it.
“This is going to take all day,” she tells me, pointing to the pot. “So, I brought jerky and fruit.” She takes a seat by the fire and pushes food into my hands. Why? I have food. She does not need to feed me. I want to tell her this, but she sits so happily—a smile on her face as she nibbles on dried meat.
“Te eve ma sula.” I suppose it is pointless to argue, I tell her begrudgingly. She is still so happy to share her provisions though. Perhaps what is truly pointless is trying to scare her away with a sour attitude. She either does not notice my efforts, or truly does not care. Either way, her dried meats are very good.
“San teve.” Thank you. Lo’s smile brightens. I think she might have understood that one. And perhaps, just this once…I will offer her a smile. Though I don’t plan on making a habit out of it.
“I’m going to be your friend,” she tells me. “Spoiler alert: That’s one of your Christmas presents. It works out nicely for me, because I get a friend out of the deal too—one that makes me feel at home. Have I told you that you remind me of my uncles? They’re a bunch of sour pusses, just like you. Big hearts though. Only, they aren’t green. But otherwise you’re all very similar… Sort of similar… I can see parallels, at least.
“Anyway, I’ve been too sad to cook. And, don’t tell anyone this, but I didn’t really want to cook down in the village. They just wouldn’t get it, you know? That have each other, but I’m solo—la unica latina.
“Did you know, the only damn one of them who’s ever had a tamale got it from El Pollo Loco? I’ll tell you what, whatever my abuelita Carmen was doing on Earth right now, she just stopped in her tracks to make the sign of the cross. El Pollo Loco.” Lo shakes her head.
“They do have good chicken bowls though. Just saying. Anyway, it kind of feels better to cook here. Down in the temple everyone would eat my pozole, say it was fine, and they wouldn’t know better even if it was crap. I mean, you won’t know if it tastes like pozole or not—but that’s expected. You’re an alien. But the girls in Beacon… Well, it’s just we came from the same planet, but there are still a lot of differences.
“I love them all, don’t get me wrong, but there are just subtle differences. I notice them more this time of year. It makes me feel alone.”
Lo looks earnestly into my eyes. “And maybe you resonate with that more than some of the others do? Me and you, we’re our own little band of misfits.” Smiling, she finishes her jerky and wipes her hands on her pants before checking the pot over the fire.
I nod to it, wondering if the food is done.
“Not even close,” Lo tells me, shaking her head. “Later, when the sun goes down.” She uses her hands to mimic the sun setting on the horizon.
Oh. We have quite a while then.
“I figure we’ll spend a few days cooking. I’ll deck your halls some more, make it real festive.” She points proudly at the garland hung over my bed.
“And then, the big gift…” She leans in. “I’m going to try and get you a translator from Tennir. He’s the guy back in Beacon who gave most of us our translators. Hopefully he has another one lying around. Only thing is, I can’t just ask him for one, if we want to keep you a secret that is. It’ll take some planning. Don’t worry, Resa. I’ll take care of it,” she tells me absently. As if I have any idea what she’s saying.
“Hey!” Her exuberance makes me jolt. “Want to learn some Christmas songs?” She inches closer to me, her smile so full of life. It makes my heart race and I want to lean in, but instead I scoot away. Lo doesn’t notice though. She just scoots closer until our arms are touching. “They’re all singing Mariah Carey Christmas hits down there—which is awesome, don’t get me wrong. But, I’m going to teach you a real Christmas song. My favorite. ‘Donde Esta Santa Claus’!”
And after what comes next I am shaken to my core. All that awful singing that drifts up from the village each night? It has a purpose. The same purpose Lo brings to my cave. Courting. I am sure of it. The food, the singing, the strange garland she has hung over my bed? It’s an alien courting ritual and somehow she’s gotten me in her sights.
This isn’t good. It can’t be.
And yet…when she dances in the light of the fire, singing her terrible song, I can’t help but wonder if maybe this isn’t the worst thing that could happen.