Page 23 of Eat My Moon Dust
And I needed that industrial printing bay.
“You don’t want to go to the space chicken coop and check on your potatoes?”
“Nah.”
We’d caught a space chicken with brilliant blue and pink plumage before the rainy season really drenched the colony, but it turns out it was a boy chicken that didn’t lay eggs but sacs of semen that were soft like alligator shells. As culinarily inclined as I was, I had no interest in making Rocky Mountain oysters, space chicken edition. So we’d been hoping a girl chicken would get curious and come investigate. I’d been staking it out ever since the jungle dried out a little, but no luck so far.
Also, my potatoes wilted and rotted no matter what I tried. I was a baker, not a farmer. Even if we were on Earth, who plants potatoes in jungle mulch?
I plopped down on the blanket, then jumped.
“Ouch!” Reaching underneath, I pulled out a long, dark purple cylinder that looked a bit like a rifle casing. “What the hell?”
“Birianuts. I stepped on one yesterday too. Sati says they’re seeds that fall after di rain. Poisonous though, so be careful.” Omi sat and opened her backpack just as my stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten breakfast, and she knew it, having brought the goods. Reaching in like Mary Poppins, she withdrew a container of pancakes andmadhuhoney to dip them in.
“Yes,” I moaned, tossing the toxic nut and wriggling my fingers as she handed over my sorely needed lunch. I jammed the first wedge of pancake into my mouth without honey, my stomach too impatient to wait, then dunked the next piece and fit it into my other cheek like a zealous chipmunk right before winter.
“B’fur I furget,” I mumbled around pancake, producing a jar of cider from the cargo pocket on my pants. Omi gasped with delight and twisted the cap off, taking a big whiff.
“It smells so good!” she awed, taking a sip and licking her lips. “Is this what it really tastes like?”
I wobbled my hand in a noncommittal way and swallowed. Omi had never had mulled cider, being from Jamaica. “It’s pretty close.”
“Toss some rum in that and you’ve got a party,” Omi joked. “You should be proud, Tin.”
I stuffed my face full of more pancake and made a silly face, unable to talk without spewing flapjacks across my lap.
A mass of kids ran by, chasing a frisbee. Now that they were starting to develop into preteens, playing tag wasn’t nearly as exciting to them. Soccer and team frisbee had taken over, especially since Wade and his small crew had built the place up after the rains. Soccer nets were positioned on both long sides of the field, and they’d even built picnic tables and a short deck over the ditch across from the treeline. Most of the adults sat up there and enjoyed the potted flowers and sunshades during the day. The older kids and their teachers held classes up there too.
Which meant it was usually packed. That suited me just fine though, especially once I saw Hunar’s pallid figure round the ferns along the footpath, one girl and two boys in tow. Just as I’d planned, he’d have to walk right by us. I made a noise and chewed faster, swallowing down my pancakes as I brushed the crumbs off my clothes. Omi raised a brow.
“What ya doin’?” she asked.
“Shh! Act natural,” I stage whispered.
“Youact natural.”
I glared at my best friend, and she grinned back.
“Hi, Hunar!” I said, waving nice and big. One of the boys’ manes shrank up like a gasp, then shook itself out, looking up at his dad with excitement. But Hunar’s nostrils flared with frustration and a muscle in his jaw ticked as his family came to a stop.
“Miss Tinsley,” he said with a pained nod. “You come to the playfield?”
“Yup!” I stood up and brushed off my palms, waving to the kids. They were nearly the same height as me, and looked as if I was the first human who’d ever talked to them. Maybe I was. I gave them a wave. “I didn’t know you had kids. Man, you guys aregorgeous.Look at those cute tendrils.”
One of the boys, the teal one with red speckles, glowed a little brighter as his mane curly-cued. “Thanks,” he breathed.
“Go on,” Hunar urged, giving his bicep a little nudge. The boy blinked, looking at his siblings.
“Uh, I’m Ladh. This is Tahavir and Reha. It’s nice to meet you.”
Then he held out one of his upper hands hesitantly, glancing at his father. I took it and gave him a clear handshake with a little squeeze for encouragement. When it was over, he looked at his palm in awe.
His brother Tahavir eagerly pushed his hand out.
“Me next!”
I laughed and took his hand while Reha, Hunar’s daughter, watched the human kids play. I’d seen plenty of female shilpakaari in vids and such, but most of us viewed Pom Pom as more or less human these days. Female shils only had two arms, so their proportions were far more familiar. It was strange though to see Reha cross her only set of arms.
