Chapter Eighteen

At this point I realized something. I have barely spoken of what Lisa looked like, at least in my first edition. As this writing takes place in the second edition, with memories somewhat faded with time and with the virtual stack of requests for more information that I received since the first publication, I can only promise to do my best. Lisa’s hair was a blend of autumn leaves… that is the best way to describe it.

If this is confusing, and I am sure it is, I must explain something about human vanity, they’re very visual creatures, humans. How they expose their skin and how they conceal it, says a lot about individual self expression. They’re natural artists in my view, with their lives and even their bodies as a canvas. Sometimes literally. Lisa for example, dyed her hair, but it wasn’t a single color, rather she dyed it in such a way that the splotchy pattern made her hair look quite literally like… leaves, at least when she stood still. With hues of orange, red, and gold, when the breeze picked it up, the light glinted and reflected off the sheen and it was like watching leaves sway in branches.

Her face, at least in its shape, reminded me of an apple, with smooth contours, and her lips were neither thin nor thick, though they almost ‘popped’ from her use of red lipstick. I remember her eyes very clearly, being that they were hazel, and studious. If I were to compare them to anyone else, they reminded me of Michael, not in color, but with the same studious intensity, studying things around her.

When she walked, it was with a kind of confident and sure footed strut, and I was hard pressed to imagine her without that smile on her face even when she appeared to be deep in thought.

“C’mere.” She said when we reached the opening into the field. There was a door close by that led into a side room. The door had a simple handle with no evident lock, and it swung open soundlessly, she led me within where I found a surprisingly large room with lockers, sinks, and toilets. Jerseys with the ‘Cardinals’ logo were stacked in a tall mesh hamper along with the form fitting ‘half pants’ that the team wore. Lisa led me over to a countertop that if I am being honest, could have used a cleaning.

“Aren’t you supposed to be practicing?” I asked, and she shrugged it off.

“Yeah, but this is fine, we don’t get many alien visitors around here and it seems everybody is distracted by you and your companion. We may get an extended practice, but that’s all right, the buses run twenty-four hours per day and I can ride-share it if I don’t feel like waiting. Now hold still.” She said and reached up to a red plastic box on the wall which was painted with a plus sign in the center.

She opened it and revealed it to be a first aid kit, and when I caught sight of myself in the mirror, I understood why.

“Are all your soldiers that big?” She asked, I knew this strategy. She was trying to distract me.

But I went with it. “No.” I said and waited while she put some rubbing alcohol on a pad.

“Brace yourself. If your nervous system is kind of like ours, this will probably sting.” Lisa instructed me and she began to rub around my eye. I had a few cuts, bruises, and a very small gash on my side, presumably when Boatswain slammed into me, one of his claws caught me too.

I winced as the pain of the alcohol hit, but what else could I do but go with the moment? I answered her. “No, definitely not. Military dlamisans go through extensive training, most of them get some body augmentation too, and Boatswain is embassy staff. That means he’s a combat veteran, between drugs, training, and experience?” I didn’t even try to keep the note of pride out of my voice when I said, “Our soldiers are some of the best in the known galaxy.”

“Unless somebody throws a ball.” Lisa pointed out and dabbed a spot of blood from my side.

I winced and snapped my jaw shut, exhaling hard through my nose, then replied, “Yes, well… who could resist the lure of a thrown ball?”

“Uh huh.” She answered me and began to wipe the disinfectant around my little injuries. “Does it hurt anywhere, do you feel like anything is broken?”

“No, thank you. I’ll probably be sore for a day or two, but it’ll be fine.” I patted my side and suppressed another wince. But I had to ask, now that I watched the way she acted with confidence, patching up my injuries, the care she’d shown in making sure none of the alcohol got into my eyes, and even the precise placement of the fabric ‘tape’ she finally slapped over the gash… which she ripped away after counting to ten, leaving the little sealant to stop the blood flow, it was all so seamless in its execution…

“Where’d you learn how to do that?” I asked while she put away the unused materials back into the box. She took a black felt marker and put a diagonal line from one corner to the next, then put it back on the wall.

“I was in the military for a short time, but most of this comes from there.” She jerked her thumb toward the door. “Cheerleaders are athletes, we’re basically gymnasts without the equipment, our bodies are our equipment, and sometimes equipment breaks.” She chortled a little bit at that and said, “Plus we spend a lot of time co-practicing with the players. The big babies.”

The fond way she said it suggested there was a game at play, and if it was one thing I noticed about humans, is that their games can be… very strange. I cocked my head, it made her smile go bigger, and when I let some of my ears flop down, she elaborated. Mentally, I chose to name this expression of mine, ‘dlamisa interrogation technique number one’.

It made humans happy, and happy humans were talkative, answering questions I didn’t even ask yet, that they might not have answered if asked directly.

“Football was created so men could stay fit for war. It kept them ‘manly’. But it also leads to a lot of injuries. So everybody on our teams learns first aid, and we get to practice it a lot. And since we’re together a lot, a bunch of couples form. It’s kind of become a tradition for the person who gets hurt to get looked after by whoever they’re ah… sorry, I don’t know much about dlamisans, but… coupled with? Hooked up with? Do those terms make sense to you?” She asked when the box snapped back into place on the wall.

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“They do. I’ve been on Earth a few months now, surely William told you I live with him?” I asked.

“No. He didn’t, actually.” She snorted and put her hands on her hips. “Sounds like him.” She rolled her eyes, “A laser focus on the point, but none of the details around it.” She let out a weary sigh that reminded me vaguely of the way Rebecca sounded when she was at her wits end with the man.

“Were you two, ‘coupled with’ or-?” I asked, keeping my head tilt in place to keep her relaxed.

Her mouth dropped open, “Oh, god no.” She said and started to laugh, drawing one hand up to cover her mouth, “No, no, no, ten thousand times no. First of all his daughter is only about eight years younger than me, give or take, second of all his wife’d be scary.”

“Then how do you know him?” I asked, now I was curious, even intrigued.

“One of his old army buddies is my dad. Plus he used to tutor me. William is actually a pretty good teacher, I passed a few math classes thanks to him, and I guess you could say I know him pretty well, he’s like an uncle to me, but since I’m ‘all grown up’ now, I guess I’d just call him a friend.” The way her face lit up when she said it, I couldn’t really doubt her.

This is one of the greatest strengths of humanity, something I saw even in the very worst of them, their ability to create families without any blood ties. To grow communities out of almost nothing, whether it was games, or just knowing someone who knew someone, these little connections and big ones alike, made them unique in the galaxy.

I had to envy them, growing up that way.

But I covered that envy up, and she stepped aside to let me pass. “Thank you.” I said and tapped my injured side, she tossed the fabric aid strip into the trash and replied immediately.

“Don’t worry about it.”

She walked me back outside and when we got there, I saw Boatswain straining to rise under a pile of humans, he was giving it a valiant effort, but it was not to be. While I knew we were faster than humans, it seemed our strength was not that different, and human range of motion was better. I should have been alarmed, but when I caught sight of his tail, it was wagging, and he shouted at an old bald headed human, “One more throw!”

“See, like I said. Babies. They love it when a pretty girl plays Nurse Nightingale and treats their injuries, and they love to horse around. I don’t think men ever really stop being boys, they just become responsible ones, or awful ones.” Lisa said while she stood and watched, I couldn’t say for sure if she was right or not. Maybe there was something to it?

But then she pointed out a table with a large round container, “Short version, keep water cups on the table for the team, and keep the bucket full, make sure there’s enough for all the athletes on the field.” She said, and I bobbed my head up and down to show I understood.

The table was placed so that I could see both practices, and the work was fairly straightforward. I had thirty-eight cups out, plus two for the coaches and one for myself and one for Boatswain for a total of forty-two.

I calculated that the cooler, with ice, would hold roughly six refills each based on its size, dimensions, and however much ice was added. A separate cooler, roughly the length of the table itself, sat nearby which I used as a seat to watch the human shenanigans. That cooler, it turned out, was full of ice and other drinks of multiple colors with various nonsensical names. ‘Electric wave’ and ‘Seabreeze’ and ‘Sun Light’. Humans loved their nonsense phrases for some reason. I hadn’t yet worked that out quite yet.

The football players eventually tired and were given a short break, approaching the table in a small cluster. Not far away, I watched the cheerleaders and their shouting going on, Lisa wasn’t wrong, they really were using their bodies as equipment.

Pairs would act as throwers, catchers, and they made various standing pyramids that she would jump from, spin in a circle in the air, and then rely on the people at the base of the pyramid to work together to catch her.

It was the singularly strangest artistic work I’d ever seen up to that point, but strange or not… It was impressive to my eyes. ‘We could never do that.’ I thought privately, and tried to think of the female of my species who tried to get the last spot in Professor Sxlith’s class. Fierce competitor or not, as easy as it was to picture Boatswain playing this football sport in some way, I could not imagine her in the same outfit as Lisa, doing those wild spins through the air.

The cheerleaders paused at last and approached the table, the football players moved aside to give them some room, and their stern-faced coach approached. She had the beginnings of gray hair, but they were spaced out among a still vibrant, fiery red. Her face had the start of wrinkles, and her lips were thin and even, neither frowning nor smiling. She was slender still, but age was slowly taking away her fitness, giving her the bare beginnings of a belly.

In her hand she held a clipboard where I caught a glimpse of numbers in small boxes. I had to guess she was rating performances in people’s roles, but I had no idea her criteria or how she scored so many. As soon as she approached the table I knew one thing for sure, she was counting the cups.

“Good.” She said and gave a prim, sharp nod down at me where I sat. “The last idiot thought athletes only meant them.” She jerked her thumb toward the football players.

“Then he was inefficient and very bad at his job.” I said in my most professional academic tone, it was also one of the worst insults I could think of. Our language could definitely use more meaty human swear words. It’s just a little too clean, I think. But in the moment, it seemed to delight the older woman in front of me.

“Mavis.” She said and went around the table to shake my hand, leaving room for her team to get at the cups after she took one of her own.

I wished the football players had stayed closer, I would have liked to know their reaction to her words about the previous waterboy, but it was not to be, they were off on their own and hadn’t been listening. It was a minor loss, I suppose. I stood and took her hand. I noted the callouses there and she must have realized it, because she squeezed a little tighter and I could have sworn I saw her lips turn up a little at the corners.

“Fencing.” She explained. “I can’t do what they do anymore, but I’m not completely broken down yet.”

“I see.” I said, I couldn’t help but think it must be hard for the athletes to get older, to see their bodies unable to do the things they loved. It was why I loved being an academic, as long as my mind worked, that was all I really needed. I didn’t say that to Mavis, somehow that felt like it would have been cruel. The cheerleaders were mostly of the female species of humans, but I did notice what I thought was a male or two among them, though it was hard to say with certainty as some human body types are almost androgynous. But I could say that they were all young, no more than in their twenties.

Mavis seemed to read my mind, “This is a hard sport, and it doesn’t take many injuries before you’re done for good. But?” She looked past me, up toward the sky, I recalled the way I’d seen Lisa seem like she herself might defy gravity for a few moments, like she would touch the endless blue above us all.

“It’s worth it.” Mavis answered, then focused on me again, “Welcome to the team.”

The rest of the afternoon was like that, with Boatswain thankfully willing to help me out since he was there anyway, I kept the water filled and the teams from being too thirsty. Honestly, I barely noticed the time passing until it was actually time to leave.