The Appleden Digger, my favorite pub to go out drinking. Although it is the only pub I know in the area, it isn’t the only one I’ve visited. But who needs other pubs when you can have the fantastic atmosphere of a closely-built space, where friends gather ‘round and the beer flows free?

I finish gulping the last trickle of beer from my glass and sigh a refreshing and imaginary puff of alcoholic smoke from my mouth. I smack my lips and slam -- very carefully -- my glass on the counter.

“Outstanding work, Hayier,” I said to the bartender. My great friend and relationship sponsor, the man who I owe joyful weekend nights and orgasmic beer.

“Should you be drinking this much at your age, Ed?” He asked while cleaning an already cleaned glass of beer. He does this for no particular reason other than to look like a stereotypical bartender.

“I’m not that old, buddy. Besides, shouldn’t you be encouraging me to keep buying more beer?”

“What’s the point of making you drink until you fall ill and can’t drink no more? I do care about you as my friend, but from a business perspective I also want you drinking in the long run.”

“Whatever. Hit me with another! Being sober won’t bring Martin back to town.”

My boyfriend, Martin, left town a few days ago on a business trip. He’s a physicist professor at a university and has been working for the military recently. He hasn’t looked good lately, he said he doesn’t like where his work is going. Used for the wrong reasons, he wept.

“You are not getting another beer tonight,” Hayier said and took my empty glass away, finally storing the useless glass he had been cleaning for the sake of performance.

I slumped down on the counter and closed my eyes, trying to look as miserable as possible.

“How’s your family doing?” I asked.

“Everyone’s fine. My daughter is coming of age, though. She’s getting at that age.”

“I guess radera and humans aren’t so different. Teenagers are teenagers no matter what species or what planet.”

“She isn’t a radera, Ed,” he finished cleaning the glass and turned to me. “She wants to learn magic.”

“Excuse me?” I asked, baffled.

“She said she wants to learn magic—”

“No, no, no. That other thing. You said she isn’t a radera.”

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“I never told you?”

“Oh, right, I’m sorry,” I said with the most sarcastic tone I could muster. “You did. Man, how come I forgot that very important detail that should not and cannot be forgotten.”

He stared at me. Nothing told me how he felt. His alien face told me as much as a white canvas on a museum: anything and nothing at the same time.

“It’s sarcasm, Hayier,” I explained. “Of course, you never told me.”

“My bad, Ed. Seems like you’ve been too busy with Martin I completely forgot about it.”

“I would’ve never expected a radera couple adopting a human.”

“We’re a bit different from others. Besides, Martin made me think about it and, with a little logic, we thought he was right. Why not adopt a kid in need? Besides, we never chose her, she chose us. She’s a rascal and hard to understand. She had a hard time with us too. But we started to love her. She’s my beautiful daughter.”

His hands didn’t move the whole time he talked about his daughter. He could be an alien, but that little detail was telling enough. His feelings were clear as day, I did not have to look at his beet-red face.

“She said she wants to learn magic,” he repeated.

I huffed and smiled. There was nothing humorous about it, it was only beautiful. I was a little jealous of that feeling.

“Unless she has the talent, there’s nothing she can do,” I answered, pretending that my feelings didn’t show as plainly as his did.

“A kid can dream.”

Speaking of dreams, I really need to go home, to my apartment building and have some sleep. Today may be a weekend but I can’t go down to this place. Besides, Hayier has already taken care of me too much.

“Just go sleep in the car,” he suggested. “I know you can’t go home like his. What if you get run over by your bus?”

“They can’t run people over. Cheers for automation and artificial intelligence!” I lifted my empty glass, making a toast.

“Go sleep in my car anyway, I’ll take you back to your apartment.”

“Wizard Tower!”

“Whatever you say. Go on.”

Hayier slapped me softly and encouraged me with candy. My drunk brain couldn’t help but gravitate to the sugary sweetness and grabbed it without a second thought. Just like a kid, I stood up from the chair and out the front door -- the fake double doors that alluded to a wild west saloon entrance. I heard Hayier talk to himself as I walked out.

It was a hot night in Al Patreck, the day had been sunny during the dog days, but oddly enough it felt eerily humid. This had been happening for a while now, a strange change in the weather that has made the city feel damp without any rain.

In my drunken state, I did not pay the heat or the humidity any mind and wobbled my way to the car with finesse. If drunk-walking were an Olympic sport, I’d surely get a gold medal for it.

I smiled proudly and tried the car door. It didn’t budge. In my drunken state, I tried pulling harder, but nothing happened. Of course, had I been a little soberer I wouldn’t have bothered any longer and walked back to the bar. That, of course, wasn’t the case and I leaned forward to look at the door handle and inspected it thoroughly but stupidly. I squinted my eyes and tilted my head left and right, hoping to see something, whatever was stopping the door from opening must be visible from a specific angle.

The sound of the fake saloon startled me and I fell flat on my ass.

“Ed,” said Hayier. “Your sister called. She said her son is gone missing.”

“Excuse me?”

“Tedet called her, he said the kid wanted to talk to you, so he sent him here and called your sister.”

“Excuse me?!”

“But the kid hasn’t come by here, and since your stupid magic kills off radiowaves she wasn’t able to contact you or me. She only just managed to get the call to go through when you walked off.”

“This can’t be happening,” I said in disbelief, I felt myself getting sober with every syllable Hayier uttered.