Michael woke with a start whose sharp inhale made him cough. The coughing only made the pain in his head reverberate, taking up more space than he figured his head could hold. He rolled over onto his side, his bell still ringing. He grabbed onto the edge of whatever he was laying on, its rough surface taut against what seemed to be a PVC pipe. His jeans zipped along the canvas with each cough. The coughing became a choking feeling. Something was coming up. He stretched to hang his face off of the side of what appeared to be a cot.

How convenient: a drain in the floor, Michael thought as his insides became outsides. His body was angry at him. The choking became violent retching. How do I have anything more inside of me? The sickly-sweet onset stung his tongue and was followed by the acidic contents of his stomach. He smelt the hoppy followthrough at the tail end of his output.

When he thought he was done, he withdrew his head from the edge. There was something nice about rubbing his throbbing head against the course fabric he was laying on; it wasn’t comfortable, but feeling the fabric rasp at his cheek, then his eyebrow, then his forehead and then down the other side only to repeat the process gave him something to focus on outside of the pain in his head and the cramps from his stomach’s newly acquired practice of gastric acrobatics. The crackle of skin and hair against the cot was a comforting distraction.

He settled the rubbing enough to stay still for a moment. He tried to control his breathing. In through the nose and out the mouth. In with the love, out with the jive. He chuckled to himself just enough to smell the sweet hops and acid product he’d made. He heard it slide thickly through the fins of the drain. Again, his stomach was compelled to perform some tricks.

Through some whimpering minutes, Michael deemed it worthwhile to lift himself into a sitting position. “Rrmmph-eeeh” he groaned and whined as he lifted himself up, his head did not appreciate the new arrangement. He felt something fall from himself when he lifted and heard it skid a bit. He gripped the edge of the cot at each side of his legs and deliberately opened his eyes.

Yes, he was on a cot, can confirm. It was dingy and stained. He was the most recent contributor to its ruin, but surely not the only one. The drain was--Nope, can’t handle any more of that, he jerked his head away to assess the rest of the room. Four walls and a door, still a kind of purple. The walls were much darker than the floor. The spotty ombre must’ve been from repeated bleachings from previous tenants. This might’ve had another Shil’vati-centered purpose before, but it had become their drunk tank.

Michael looked down on the cot groggily. Maybe he could rest some more. He took shallow breaths. He wasn’t focused yet, so he saw what appeared to be an odd smaller cot on the cot he was occupying. Squinting to gather more detail, he opened his eyes with shock and grabbed at the rectangle with too much excitement.

“My phone!” he pulled it to his face with a quickness that made his whole frame shudder.

Tap. Tap tap tap.

Nothing.

He pushed on the button on the side. There’s only four buttons on this sonuvabitch. Turn on!

My fucking luck. I forget all about my phone through all this, find it and it’s fucking dead. This is some booolshit.

He put it back in his shirt pocket and bemoaned his plight. This fucker’s dead. It’s probably what kept pulling my pants down. Stupid fucking useless goddamned phone. And now who knows where I’m at and where I’m going and how I’m going to get home.

How am I going to get home!?

I’ll call Bill!

Bill’ll get me out of this. I gotta get to a working phone. I’ll call him and we’ll figure it out. It’ll be fine. I’ll get home, play a couple rounds of Halo with my Yankees and everything’ll be Oh Kay.

…

I can call Bill, right?

I know his number, right?

904 27–nope, that’s my number.

Oh right, he's got a Daytona number.

...The fuck is daytona’s area code?

Or is it Orlando?

Shit.

Fuck.

Shit.

Who else could I call?

Not work. it's still the weekend, right?

Whose number do I know?

Mom’s, but she lives in a whole other state.

Oh. Oh no! Goddammit.

Michael growled at his stupidity. Useless!

He moped his way to the door. There was a slot for observation whose knob was on the other side of the door behind a small rectangular pane of glass.

Ok. I'm ready. Let me out of here.

He knocked a polite tune.

he waited, hands on his hips.

“Hey! Hello!

“I’m ready to go in here!”

He banged the door.

“Hey! Lemme out!” He yelled.

“Is there anybody there?”

The observation slot slid open. A pair of gold irises in black sclera glared at him.

He gesticulated thankfulness at their appearance. “Oh, ok, there you are. Can I go?”

The slot slid shut.

Silence followed.

He tapped his foot impatiently.

He counted down from 10. 9. 8. 7...

He banged on the door three times in a quick succession.

The door was forced in on him from the outside. He was standing too close. The door swung towards him and knocked him back with enough momentum for him to fall back to the floor.

The drain was clear of liquid other than the residue his vomit had left. Still, he felt the squish of partially-digested fries on the back of his head.

Fuck a duck.

The Shil’vati guard towered over him from the door.

“Yeah, hey, thanks.” He grunted to get up. He swept his hand behind his head and immediately regretted it.

The guard barked at him in incomprehensible Shil.

“Yeah, about that, can I go home?” He smiled as best he could and shrugged.

She looked at him queerly; then turned abruptly and slammed the door shut.

Well, at least they know I’m up, Michael sought a silver lining.

Minutes later, two pairs of black-tinged, golden eyes peered at him through the slot. I’d never truly noticed their eyes. I knew they were there, but I never had an occasion to look at them.

He stayed back away from the door when they opened it. There stood the guard and Joph’rena. Michael welcomed her dourly. “Well if it isn’t my friend, Josepha?”

Joph’rena rolled her eyes in exasperation. She graw-grawed with body language that said to Michael, “What do you want now?”

Michael smiled stoically. “Home. E.T. phone home?” He held up his dead phone.

Joph’rena frowned disapprovingly, not knowing what he was referencing, but could tell it wasn’t a compliment. She waved him over to another room, which Michael had no recollection of--he might’ve been there before, maybe not--hard to tell.

She set him up with an omnipad on a slotted table. He watched her fiddle through some menus until a banner popped up. “English Version Edition 1.3” displayed in new times roman in the center of the screen.

He gave her a smile and a thumbs up and tried to remember the number.

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He dialed the number, took a deep breath and hit the “sind” button.

He saw himself through the camera on screen while it started ringing. He looked like shit. He quickly rubbed vomit remnants out of his stubble. Hoping to make himself slightly more presentable before they answered on the other end.

Oh shit, he thought before he tried to turn to Joph’rena to ask--defeated already, he accepted without asking--this is an on-base number. She won’t answer it.

He rolled his eyes and accepted that he’d have to leave a message. Not that he knew what he was going to say if she answered; he scrambled to think of the phrasing that would sound the least desperate.

The voicemail picked up, “Hey, this is Jess, I cannot come to the phone right now. Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

Michael stiffened his back and spoke with an utterly false coolness, “Hey Jess, I figured you wouldn’t answer this number. Um, I...am on the Shil’vati base...You know, the one where NAS was.” He looked up at Joph’rena apologetically. “Um, anyway, my phone is dead and I don’t have my car. I was wondering if you could pick me up.” He winced in embarrassment. “K, um, thanks bye!”

He pressed the button to “stop call”.

He looked at Joph’rena and laughed mirthlessly. Grrreat…

It didn’t take too long before Jessica was calling back.

Michael pointed at the screen and held it there a second, checking with Joph’rena before he pressed the answer button. She nodded in approval.

The screen lit up with Katherine’s face. “Hi Daddy!”

Michael didn’t expect Jess to let the kids be on the phone with him while he was on a line that wasn’t his own; he thought he’d made it clear it was a military number. All the same, this shouldn’t have been surprising.

Michael cleared his throat and answered, “Hey Hon, your mom there?”

“Yeah,” her innocent voice replied, “She said you’re in trouble. I made you this to cheer you up!” She held up a picture of a markered image of a rainbow with a cloud and better than stick figures of a black balloon with arms and legs getting hugged on each side by small pink and blue block figures. The pink one had a bit more detail; it had a princess tiara and a smiling face.

“That’s great, Hon!” He replied with a smile. He cut his eyes off screen. “Can I please talk to Mommy?”

Katherine didn’t look disappointed exactly, but had hoped for some more fanfare than she’d received. “Uh huh, she’s right here.” She backed away from the screen, “Bye!”.

Jessica hovered over the screen. She was clearly not in the mood to deal with this. She did appear ready to go to Zumba. “Hey Mike, what the hell is going on?”

Michael blushed a bit, “I, uh, I need a ride.”

She pressed harder, “I caught that. Why are you on the Shil’vati base?”

As he spoke, Joph’rena slowly appeared behind him. “It’s hard to explain right now. I get the impression that I don’t have a lot of time to talk.” He saw her face fill the blank wall space behind his left shoulder. “Look, I need some help here. Could you come look for me at a gate up here? That’d be great.”

Jessica saw the stern, purple, pointed ears and tusk-framed face. She came to the same conclusion. “Yeah, I can do that. I’m not going to miss class for you though. I have to pick up some stuff at the store, too.”

Michael did not hide his frustration well.

Doug sprang up into the screen. “Dad, why’s your forehead blue?”

Michael didn’t hide his shock well at all. “Shit, oh, I uh, I didn’t know I had anything on my face. Thanks bud!” He tried to wipe his face fruitlessly.

Jessica finished, “Yes, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” With an exasperated sigh, she hung up on him.

Michael let out a long sigh of relief.

Joph’rena snatched up her omnipad and motioned to the guard to take Michael back out of there. He got up and followed directions. She graw-grawed again. He gave her a slight smile and a wave and kept walking.

The guard gave him enough time to make sure he had himself together then led him out the door. He didn’t know what he expected, but she walked him out to the gate. She saluted the guards there, they opened up a section of the wall by the road and pointed him out. Not seeing much choice, he sauntered out the door and out of the base.

He may be covered in Shil’vati blood, his own vomit, sweat and all the olfactory remnants of his weekend in his clothes; but he would not slink out of the base. He had some dignity. He felt a hotness on his ear. Oh, someone must be talking about me, he thought until the heat started to hurt.

He thought back to the back of Amber’s hot hand. Oh shit! He turned enough to catch that the guard who’d walked him out had a laser pistol sighted on him. He started running toward the gate, nearly running over the guard who held the door open. He heard laughter as the door slammed behind him.

He rubbed his ear to make sure it wasn’t melting. Purple Bitches.

Ahead he saw a bus stop; far ahead of him. Michael shambled his way to the bench.

He had to wait for a bus or two before he could get a spot to sit. Once he did, most other folks chose to stand rather than to sit close to him. After three more buses stopped and more people shuffled between them, he’d gotten enough stink eyes that he chose to sit on the ground on the side of the bus stop stand.

Michael counted buses and counted people. He looked at the Shil’way. His mind wandered.

If this road can maintain charge on Shil’vati vehicles…

He waited for a bus to clear and for a good amount of time without vehicles passing. He rolled himself to a stand and crept over to the middle of the road.

He put his phone down on the road and watched. Maybe if the road can keep whole vehicles charged, maybe it can charge my phone.

He looked at the road ahead of him. Cars crept up and over the line, ready for the traffic light to signal for them to go.

Michael pretended that the phone was absorbing energy from the road. Can I feel it too? Can I feel the electricity in the road?

The lights changed and cars roared toward him. He figured he had a few seconds. He tried to leave his phone on the road as long as he could.

HONK!!

C’mon, c’mon..! He grabbed for his phone at the last moment he thought he safely could and still get away from the oncoming traffic. His hand slipped and the phone fell out of his hand.

Shit!

Michael scuttled back to the side of the road. Vehicles roared past him. He knelt on the shoulder, pleading for cars to not smash it. He felt stupid for trying to experiment with the road but it seemed worthwhile in his boredom.

A car scooted to a stop in front of him. It was Jessica and company. Michael popped up, hoping to look as nonchalant as possible. He waved to Doug in the front seat. Doug gave him a thumb, directing him to sit in the back, where Michael saw Katherine. Michael grumbled to himself, That kid shouldn’t be in the front seat at all, plus I’ve gotta give shotgun up to him?

Michael held his hands up to tell them to hold on as he walked around the front of the vehicle. Is this a new car? He wondered, not recognizing the make or color as what he knew Jessica to be driving. He got around it, waited for a car to pass and knelt down to grab his phone from the road. He held it up to the window to acknowledge that that’s what he was getting. He made his way back around and got into the rear passenger side seat.

“Hi everybody!” Michael exclaimed as he got his seatbelt latched.

“Daddy, you stink!” Katherine exclaimed back at him in a similar tone while holding her nose with both hands.

Jessica sneered at Michael through the rearview mirror.

“When did you get this beauty?” Michael asked as he rolled down the window.

Jessica and Doug rolled theirs down as well. “Yeah, just got it. Traded in the old civic.”

“Yeah,” Michael tried to sound conversational, “It’s nice.”

“It was before we put an ol’ stinky Daddy in here.” Doug teased from the front seat.

Jessica settled down as she set the car moving again. “What happened to your car?”

Michael chuckled a bit, “Funny story, uh, it might be at home and it might be uh, at a bar…”

He felt the judgment seething him as he said it in front of the kids.

“Oh?” Jessica responded, “Well I guess it’s good you didn’t drink and drive.”

He replied mechanically, “Ha ha, yeah…”

“Where is it?” She asked, tapping the GPS on the dash to life.

“It’s called, um, the Falsetto Friars.” Michael said, still slightly embarrassed. “I don’t know if you’ve heard of it.”

“Nope.” Jessica said flatly.

A short, awkward drive later, they arrived at the bar. Michael thanked her and said goodbye to the children.

“When are we going to see you again, Dad? I miss you!” Doug asked, rolling his window down.

“Yeah, pretty soon, right?” His gaze turned to Jessica. He saw that she was getting out of the car. Uh, shit.

She walked over to him and told Doug to roll up the window. She made sure her back was to her car as she started her inquiry.

“Have a good time?” Jessica asked flatly.

“Jess, you gotta know, things got out of hand.”

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t do too much. It was everyone around me who went bonkers.” He tried to weasel his way out of this line of questioning.

It didn’t work. “You must’ve done something because it looked to me like you were arrested by the Shil’vati and taken to their base!”

Michael attempted a retort, “Well...I was invited!”

“Invited? Oh, that’s rich. You got invited to the base, huh? Did you have fun?”

Michael did not like where this was going. “I don’t know what you want to hear? That I fucked up? Yeah, I fucked up. I made some bad decisions.”

“What were you thinking when you took this invitation?”

“I don’t know, it seemed like it was going to go better than it did.”

“You thought it was going to go well for you, going to the horny space amazon base?”

Michael didn’t have an answer.

“Oh, that’s right, you weren’t thinking, were you?”

“No, I guess I wasn’t.”

“You need to think a little harder before you come calling me for help after you’ve had a night out drinking with our purple alien overlords.”

She shifted her weight with the turn of her verbal assault.

“You smell like ass. You might’ve ruined the upholstery of my car. I’m, for sure, going to have to get it detailed to get your stench out.

She shifted back, “You good to drive? You smell like alcohol amongst other things.”

Shamefully, he mumbled, “Yeah. I’m good.” He pulled out his car keys from his pants pocket.

“You need to get your shit together. This is a horrible example to make for your kids. God, they are so smart and they know more than you think they know. You’ve got to be a better man, a better father to them.”

He nodded in acquiescence.

She relented, as though this was as good as she was going to get out of him. “Go home. Get cleaned up. We’ll see you next Friday.” She turned and went back to the driver’s seat.

Michael held the base of his car key between the fingers of one hand, and the tip of the key between the fingers of the other. “Yup.”

He tried to muster some cheer for the kids. He waved as they drove away.

Cool. I’ll just...go home now I guess.

He sat in his car and plugged his phone in.