Humans Are Encountered

Hard Days

Jessica was absent in the lab when Zork'ak arrived. She did not appear at second meal, either. It wasn't until the humans paused their experiments to go to third meal that xe said something.

"Is Jessica well?" Zork'ak asked Adam as they walked along the corridor, Wren on xer other side.

"Physically? Yeah, she's okay." Adam bit his lower lip.

"It's a hard day for her," Wren said gently, touching xer upper extremity.

"Difficult in what aspect?"

"Emotionally." Wren's eyebrows pinched upwards above her blue eyes, creating such an unfortunate look along her facial features.

"What emotion is considered 'hard?'" Zork'ak felt a distinct veil edging over Wren's words, but xe wanted to be sure.

"For her, sadness." Zork'ak nodded, opening xer mouth and then biting back the words. "Her brother died today," she whispered as they entered the meal room.

Zork'ak waited until all the humans were seated to turn towards Wren, effectively blocking their conversation from the others. She looked up. Every time, Zork'ak was struck by those blue eyes, even in the inappropriate moments. "I had not been informed of this. When did she receive the information?" Xe should have been aware of this potential change in her behavior.

"No, I meant that her brother died on this day a few years ago."

"Jessica is absent due to the reminder of her loss of her brother?"

Wren nodded. "She's taking some time in her room."

Zork'ak thought of when Adam told xem about his mom, about how it seemed to physically hurt him, and xe thought about the way xe felt when xe considered the loss of the humans. Xe nodded, partially understanding how the reminder could cause hardship for Jessica.

"Does she require anything?"

Wren shook her head. "She just asked to be alone." Zork'ak nodded, turning to face the others.

Despite what Wren said, Zork'ak grabbed a bowl of meal, now flavored with seasonings that Kai had taught crop analysts and meal preparers. Xe had waited until the humans had returned to their experiments before xe snuck down the corridor to Jessica's room. Xe only wanted to bring her meal since she missed two to xer knowledge. She may have had crops in her room, but xe wanted to be sure.

Xe rapped on Jessica's door, and it slid open, revealing the dark interior. From the corner of the room, a quiet, "what?" sounded.

"Oh, Jessica, I brought you," xe stuck out the bowl, "some meal. You were not there."

"I'm not hungry."

As xer eyes adjusted, xe could see Jessica sitting in the corner, her lower extremities bent and tucked under her chin, held close to her torso by her upper extremities. Xe took a step forward, and the door slid back into place, cutting off the only light. Xe cautiously picked xer way to where Jessica sat, folding xemself on the ground.

"Your body needs meal."

"I'm not hungry," she repeated to the floor.

Zork'ak sat the bowl in between them. Xe knew better than to try to argue with the humans, even if their beliefs were illogical. "Okay."

"I assume they told you?"

Zork'ak nodded, unsure if Jessica could see xem through the faint light under the door. "I did not come here to ask, though. Just to be sure you are eating."

She lifted her face to Zork'ak. "We were close."

Zork'ak wondered for a moment what made these humans so open to xem. Xe supposed it was xer willingness to understand and their newness to the subject. Xe never tried to explain xer own feelings as xe had seen other humans do. Xe only listened.

"He was older than me. 'Was.'" She let out a laugh that sounded broken. "It's still hard to think of him being gone."

"What was his name?" Zork'ak asked gently. Xe felt compelled to ask, and it seemed to help her.

"Elliott." She smiled, shaking her head. "He looked out for me, cared for me. I could talk to him about anything, and I did. Still called him every day even at twenty-six." Xe almost asked why she chose that number but instead decided to wait. Humans had a way of explaining themselves indirectly. "I was twenty-six when he died."

Xe was uncertain if asking questions would help. "Would it help to tell me about him?"

She nodded, sniffing and scrubbing at her face. "I loved him more than anything. He was so goofy. He worked in mass media, a reporter. He was kind of a big deal. He posted all these huge stories and was always about getting to the truth. Until he published a story that his editor turned down, and he got fired. He directly went against the company's orders. That was not too long after I lost my job. So we lived on the streets together for a while. He was just so optimistic, always taking notes for his next big story. He kept telling me, 'Kitten, we're not stuck, we're just gliding. Soon we'll land where we should.' He'd always say stuff like that." She was smiling now, her eyes downcast.

"He'd call you 'kitten?'"

"Yeah," she still had that soft smile on her face, "he always told me I was feisty like a kitten, sneaky and rarely affectionate but loyal."

Zork'ak laughed a little. "I understand that."

"I miss hearing that sometimes. He was the only one to call me that, and sometimes I miss his voice so much, and if I could only hear one thing again, it would be, 'I love you, kitten.'" A tear was sliding down her cheek. "That's the last thing he did say to me. He was leaving to go to apply to get us food stamps, and he said, 'I'll be back with something to eat' and he kissed the top of my head and told me, 'be careful. I love you, Kitten.'

"He didn't come back, though. I waited until two hours after the office closed. I thought maybe he had gone to the store or something, but finally, I went looking for him. And I found him. I found him not too far away from where we had been holed up, lying face down in a puddle." She sounded like she was choking. "He was dead," more tears slipped free, "stabbed. He had some cash on him that we had worked for, and he was in this bad part of town." She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, small gasping sounds escaping her. "No one cared. The cops just saw us as some homeless people, people who had fucked up and lost what they had. Not that we had worked hard and hadn't deserved to lose our jobs." She drew in a shaky breath. "They took him away, and I told them I couldn't afford to bury him so I signed this thing, and they just dumped his ashes in an unmarked grave around a bunch of other penniless people." She dipped her head, full harsh sounds breaking out of her chest. "I couldn't even give him something so basic. I love him so much, but there was nothing I could do."

Zork'ak shifted closer to run xer talons up and down Jessica's back. Eventually, she lifted her head, the breaths coming in more calmly. "I just miss him."

Zork'ak ran xer talons through her long hair. "What would help?" It was a phrase xe had heard Wren use sometimes. She was so good at navigating human emotions.

Her mouth tugged up slightly at the edges, unfolding her extremities. "I have spent a long time lying in the dark and crying. I think I could really use some food."

"I brought yo-"

She shook her head, standing up. "I want cake."

Zork'ak laughed, climbing to xer feet. "We shall obtain you a slice of cake."