From a Distant Star (15 page)

I’d talked to my mom the night before about taking a day trip with Lucas, just the two of us, and although she wasn’t crazy about the idea of not getting permission from Lucas’s parents, she said she understood. “We just need some time alone,” I said. “It’s been a crazy year.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Does this have anything to do with the bizarre thing he told you about his recovery?”

“Actually, yes.”

I waited to see if she’d ask for more details, but true to character, she let it go at that.

“Okay,” Mom said, giving a nod. “Just stay safe, and call me throughout the day so I know you’re still alive.”

“I will.” The next morning, after I took my shower, I tried to cover the dark circles under my eyes with concealer—“tried” being
the operative word. I hadn’t slept well and my eyes showed it. I did my best anyway, artfully dotting the concealer on and smoothing it out, then putting on eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss. I almost put on my usual summer clothes—T-shirt and shorts—before remembering that I was going to try to convince a top-secret research facility I had proof of life on other planets, so I went for a more serious look. Gray-striped pants with a button-down shirt. That, and a ponytail, was my whole look. I turned from side to side as I faced the mirror. I still looked like a teenager, but at least I looked respectable.

Lucas would have loved this turn of events, I thought. He would have loved that he was saved from death by an alien invading his body and that I had to go all superhero, driving to scary parts unknown to talk to strangers about things I knew nothing about, in order to save him. That little detail would really have made him laugh. He would have loved how much this forced me out of my comfort zone. When we were together, Lucas always took charge, because I wanted him to. I let him drive, pick the movies, decide where we’d eat. Not that I didn’t have an opinion, or that he wouldn’t have done what I wanted if I had asked. The truth was that I just wanted to be part of his world. What we did wasn’t important to me as long as we were together. That’s how our relationship had always worked. But now everything had shifted to me, the weight was on my shoulders, and I sure wasn’t feeling prepared.

I got my backpack ready with a change of clothes and a few other things, including Mrs. Kokesh’s gun, then crept into my mother’s room to say good-bye. She was sound asleep, of course, as any sane person would be at that time. In the light from the hallway, I could see her lying on her side, one arm flung over the spare pillow. She wasn’t snoring, but her breathing was louder than usual. I leaned over to kiss her on the cheek.

“I’m going now,” I whispered.

“Huh? What?” She lifted her head an inch off the pillow. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” I said. “Lucas and I are heading out on our trip.”

She settled back down. “Okay,” she mumbled. “Have fun. Be good.”

“I will.” I made sure my note on the kitchen counter was prominently displayed by the coffeemaker so she wouldn’t miss it. It covered everything we’d already talked about: the fact that Lucas and I would be gone until nightfall on a road trip, plus his cell phone number. Cell coverage in northern Wisconsin was spotty, but I didn’t mention that because I didn’t want to worry her. Plus, maybe we’d hit the spots that had coverage and it wouldn’t be an issue at all.

It was still dark outside when Eric and Lucas pulled up in front of my place and Eric got out to let me slide behind the wheel. I found it ironic that the fourteen-year-old had to drive because the guy who’d traveled all the way from another galaxy didn’t know how. Once inside, I handed my backpack over the seat to Eric, who stowed it on the floor next to him. “Did you have any trouble getting out of the house?” I asked.

“Nope.” Eric grinned. “My folks slept through everything. Hopefully they won’t wake up before their usual time.”

I retraced his route back to the Walkers’ to take Eric home, stopping a little ways away so they wouldn’t hear the car door slam. Eric hopped out and then leaned in to my window to give me last-minute instructions.

“The GPS is all set up with the Erickson Ryder info, and my phone number is in Scout’s phone. It has a suction cup thing so you can stick it on the dashboard if you want. I printed off some maps too, in case you have trouble with it.” He shrugged. “Sometimes it goes wonky.”

“Okay,” I said, thinking he was making a bigger deal out of the GPS than he had to. I could have figured it out.

“Also, I installed a thing you can plug your iPod into and the music will come out of the back speakers.” He pointed to the middle console.

“Great. Thanks.”

He went on, impressing me with his thoroughness. “There are snacks and drinks in the cooler on the floor next to Scout’s feet. The license plates are expired, so I smeared some mud on them. Oh, and the car isn’t insured, so be really careful.”

“What if something happens with it?” I asked. “Like if it breaks down in the middle of nowhere?”

He tapped the roof of the car. “This baby is an Eric Walker production, so you’re not going to have any mechanical problems. If you need to worry about something, worry about something else.”

We said our good-byes and drove away, leaving him standing by the side of the road. If his parents caught him sneaking back into the house, there would be hell to pay. If that happened, I wanted to have a lot of miles between us.

We’d driven a good while before either of us said a word. I fiddled a little bit with the controls on the dashboard, glad to see there was air-conditioning and that it appeared to work. Finally Lucas said, “You change the air so it’s more comfortable for your body.”

Just like that, no question, just a statement. Even though he didn’t seem to need a reply, I answered, “Yes.” Glancing over, I saw his profile by the light of the dashboard, and wished Lucas were here instead of this stranger. Lucas made everything fun. Something as boring as stopping for gas even, because he’d clean the windshield and draw a heart with our initials on the damp glass so I could see it from inside the car. Being alone with him was heaven; having his arms wrapped around me felt like we’d created our own world, with the two of us as the only occupants. We could
talk for hours about all kinds of things—debating better endings for movies, making plans for the future. This particular future was never in the plans, though.

This new alien Lucas said, “That seems inefficient.” Each word clearly enunciated.

“What seems inefficient?” I glanced at the GPS. I wouldn’t have to turn for five miles.

“Why not adjust the body to the air? Wouldn’t that be better?”

“Because . . .” I stopped, trying to think of how to explain. “It’s not possible. Our bodies don’t work that way. I mean, we can adjust somewhat, by sweating or shivering or by changing what we’re wearing.” I was rambling now. “But that only takes us so far. After that we have to find a source of heat or air-conditioning or a fan or something like that.”

“Oh.”

“Why do you ask?”

“It is just different on my planet.”

“Different how?”

“Better. More efficient.”

I thought I detected a slight tone of condescension. “Are you thinking your people are superior to us?”

He hesitated, maybe picking up on my prickly tone. “We have had more time to improve things.” His face was turned to me now, the expression like a small child hoping he wasn’t in trouble.

“Can I call you Scout?” I asked. “It feels weird to call you Lucas when you’re nothing like Lucas.”

He nodded. “I can be named Scout.”

“We’re going to be spending a lot of time together today, so we might as well get along. If you have any questions for me, just ask.”

“And if you have any questions for me, you can ask,” he said.

“Okay,” I said, my eyes on the dark country highway ahead. I could only see as far as the shine of my headlights. “First question: Do you understand everything people say to you?”

“Almost everything. I have learned many of your words and the ones I don’t know I get from where they are in the middle of other words.”

“From the context?” I guessed.

Scout nodded. “Saying the words is harder for me. I understand meanings, but combining all the words in the right way is proving difficult. I am trying, though. Your language is inconsistent in its rules. I try not to speak too much so I do not make mistakes.”

“You’re doing really well.”

“Thank you.”

“You said you have a different way of communicating on your planet. How? How do you do it?”

“We sense meanings. It is easier that way. No words to be misunderstood. And when you feel people’s intent, there is not as much conflict. It is like when you say you walk in someone else’s shoes.”

We were on a narrow two-lane highway, and I could see other cars’ headlights speeding toward us, so I kept my eyes on the road. Still, I wanted to know more. “So you communicate telepathically? You can send thoughts to each other’s minds?”

“No,” he said, his voice flat. “It’s like sending all of who we are, our feelings and ideas and images, like a movie, but with nothing hidden. We can sense feelings and project ideas and thoughts to each other.”

“I don’t get it,” I said.

“Do not worry. It’s too hard for you to understand.” His tone was reassuring. “It would be like explaining mathematics to Mack.”

“So I would be the dog in this scenario?”

“Yes.”

He had no idea how insulting this was. “So the difference between you and me is like the difference between me and Mack?”

“In some ways, Mack is more advanced than humans.”

This was going from bad to worse. I said, “How do you figure?”

He cleared his throat, an uncomfortable sound. “You are mad.”

“Well, yeah, because you’re being insulting. First you say I’m equivalent to a dog, then you say, no, actually a dog is more advanced than me. You don’t see Mack driving you to northern Wisconsin to fix your problem, do you?”

He laughed then, a chortling sound that I’d never heard from Lucas. A nerd laugh, but sweet in a way.

“I’m glad you find that amusing.”

“That is what amusing means?” he said, sounding pleased. “I did not understand the word before. Thank you, Emma.”

“Glad I could help you out,” I grumped. “Okay, let’s change the subject. What’s it like on your planet? Your bodies adjust to any temperature; you always understand where other people are coming from. Sounds perfect to me.” I shot a glance his way.

“It is not perfect, but we do not have many conflicts,” he said, leaning his head back against the padded headrest and looking dreamily ahead. “My planet is very different. The sky is not the color it is here, but the stars look very much the same. We have a sun, but it is different.”

“Different how?”

He shrugged. “The beams are more diffused. They provide us with energy for transportation and everything else.”

“Solar power. We have that too.”

“Not the same way.”

I was getting a clear message here. Scout’s planet was a lot like Earth, only prettier, better, and more advanced.

He said, “We have animals, but we understand them and do not eat them. They help us and we help them.”

“How do you help them?”

“We provide sanctuary for them, and help them with their food supply and they help us to spread plant growth. We also use their waste products to replenish our soil for our crops.”

“We do that too. Kind of.”

“No. Here you waste everything. On my home planet, we find a use for everything. We do not spoil where we live.”

“Oh, well la-di-da.”

“What does la-di-da mean?”

“It means you’re being a pain.” Ahead I saw the sign for the interstate. I couldn’t miss the turnoff, so I didn’t elaborate on my definition.

“I am sorry,” he said.

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry too.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Once I’d made the turnoff onto the expressway, I felt kind of bad for calling him a pain. I decided to steer the conversation in a better direction. “So what color is your sky?” I asked.

“Different, depending on the time of day. Most of the time, it looks a little like your purple, but darker. The sky . . . it
glows
, I think is the word? It is very beautiful.”

I nodded, imagining how wonderful it would be to have a glowing indigo sky. But we were here, and on this planet, at this time, our sun was starting to rise—just a glint of light through the rear window in a sky that would be, if previous days were any indication, a beautiful blue. Soon enough, Mr. and Mrs. Walker would be up. How long before they noticed Lucas was gone and read the note Eric had expertly forged and left on the bed? Eric had promised to tell his parents that Lucas had wanted to sleep in and that they shouldn’t disturb him. That would buy us an extra hour or two. At my house, sleeping in meant noon, but on a farm it meant seven-thirty at the latest.

“What else is different than here on Earth?” I asked. I might never meet someone from another planet again and if this trip was successful, my opportunity would be over soon. If I had any questions, the time to ask was now.

“You have so many languages here. It is very inefficient and confusing.”

“You only have one language?”

He nodded. “Yes. It’s not a language like yours. It’s the way of communication I mentioned before. Even our animals communicate like that, at their own level. That is why we are so compassionate. You cannot hate or fear what you understand.”

“But doesn’t your head get cluttered with everyone’s thoughts and feelings all the time?” I imagined standing in line at the grocery store and having to hear all the boring details of everyone’s life: the cashier with the tired feet, the harried mother with the screaming toddler, the old lady ahead of me wanting to write a check but not able to find a pen in her great big purse. God only knew what would spill out of the old lady’s head. What a nightmare. There was already too much noise in my life. I’d have a breakdown if I had to take on more. “And what if you don’t want people to know something? Can you keep it private?”

“Yes, if you must. I have many things I keep to myself. And there are many things I choose not to listen to.”