Misconstrued (Mistaken)

Home > Other > Misconstrued (Mistaken) > Page 9
Misconstrued (Mistaken) Page 9

by Pixie Unger

“Don’t have to go,” he said shyly.

  “Yeah, I do. My boys will be getting worried.”

  One of Erika’s spares walked me home and left me on my doorstep.

  I went inside, took off my shoes, looked into the dining room, and screamed. Romeo was laying flat on his back on the kitchen table with what looked like a collection of fondue forks stuck in his throat. Tybalt darted forward, picked me up in a bear hug and carried me, still sobbing and flailing, to my room.

  “Mac’s a medic! Remember?”

  I tried to calm down, unsuccessfully. “Why is he doing … THAT on the table?”

  Tybalt shook his head. “Romeo is safe. Just looks scary.”

  Iago stepped into the room with us. “Mac isn’t allowed to work here, but he is a medic,” he reminded me.

  “If he isn’t allowed to work here, what the hell is that?!” I demanded.

  They both just looked down at me with a mixture of worry and pity on their faces. This did nothing to make me feel better.

  Iago sighed. He pulled a thin white hexagon out of his pocket and tapped it. He said something I didn’t understand and the plastic thing said, “Adjusting the shape of vocal cords to change vocal range.”

  My stomach dropped. “Is that because of me?” I whispered.

  “His choice,” Tybalt replied with a shrug.

  I stepped blindly backwards until I bumped into the bed and sat down. “Why would anyone choose to have an unlicensed doctor stab them repeatedly in the throat?”

  “Because you are important to him, but you can’t hear him,” Iago said, his head tilted to the side like he was curious to see what I would do next.

  Tybalt looked worried about what I would do next.

  That’s when I remembered the guy on the street asking me if I was looking for someone new, and I remembered how worried the unnamed orc in Erika’s kitchen had looked when she said he hadn’t earned a name yet. I flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling trying hard to figure out the right way to think about this.

  Was there even a right way?

  “Mina?” Iago asked softly. I sat up a little to look at him. “Can I go back to helping Mac or do you need me?”

  That made me sit up all the way.

  “You walked away from assisting a surgery to come stare at me?” I was appalled. “Go! Help! Get Romeo all taken care of for fuck’s sake!”

  After Iago left, Tybalt spoke from the doorway, “He is your favourite.”

  I gave him a puzzled look wondering why he would think Iago was my favourite.

  “That’s why you are upset that Mac is cutting on him.”

  “What?” Tybalt did not repeat himself, he just kept watching me. Somehow my brain was racing ahead of me, noticing the expression on Tybalt’s face, his stance, and the way Iago had been looking at me. “I don’t play favourites,” I muttered. I had no idea if he would understand the idiom.

  “Did you eat?”

  I blinked at the sudden change of topic. “No?”

  He held out his hand and when I took it, he led me to the mess hall. We left the house via the garage so that we didn’t walk past the dining room.

  As random other orcs came to sit at our table,I tried to remember if I had even been for dinner with just Tybalt. It was hard to say, but it looked like he was getting teased. His head was slightly down, his shoulders were tense and he was holding his fork like he was prepared to shiv someone. I looked at my plate. Dinner was steak, something that looked like fried potato slices, except they were purple, and, in a colour extravaganza, carrots.

  “Tybalt?”

  I watched as he forced himself to relax before he turned to look at me.

  “Sweetie, I’m going to either need a knife or help cutting my meat.”

  Without a word, he pulled out something that was not the sort of knife you would find in a kitchen and passed it to me.

  “Huh. What is this?”

  “For punch,” he said, glaring at the guy who was sitting next to me.

  Okay, time to test a new theory. Men with women have status, right? I put my hand on his arm and smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

  He was staring at my hand. So was everyone else. I turned back to my plate to cut up the steak that was tonight's supper. Then I narrowed my eyes at the guy sitting next to me. “Could you slide over just a little please?” He ducked his head and slid over. That was a lot to think about as I ate my dinner.

  Tybalt finished first because a knife with a t-handle isn’t ideal for cutting steak, even if it was scary sharp. He was glaring at everyone while they all stared at me. Not that I blame them, I’m sure I looked ridiculous, and they were probably taking bets on how long until I cut myself.

  “Erika and I are the only humans I ever see in here. Are there others?” I asked mostly hoping he would talk instead of watching me eat.

  “No. Mothers live another place. You and Erika only humans eat here.”

  It was weird that they brought their mothers with them when invading, but I was learning that they had very different standards of normal.

  “Did Mac and Iago eat?”

  “Later. Romeo eat tomorrow.”

  I nodded slowly. “How long until he is feeling better?”

  Tybalt shrugged. “Tomorrow?”

  “Really? That’s surprising.”

  He took that the wrong way, “Humans not heal faster. Mac is good.”

  Mac was stupid to be doing surgery in the dining room, but I couldn’t say that.

  ----

  Sure enough, Romeo was moving slowly the next day. It was hard to look at him and not stare at the mess of stitches on his neck. Erick joined me for a walk around their camp. She was surprised when I told her she needed to name the ones who were staying with her. We were both struggling to imagine what their society looked like.

  I spent most of the afternoon in my room trying to figure out what I wanted.

  They were sitting at the kitchen table doing something that sort of looked like a card game, but with coloured chips that seemed to be both the cards and the stakes. I came over and stood next to the table. They all stopped what they were doing to look at me.

  I took a deep breath and tried to figure out what I wanted to say. Then I tried not to stare as Mac stole some of the chips that were sitting near him while I had everyone’s attention. “Erika only had to deal with one orc, so she had a chance to get used to him before she shacked up with a bunch of them. I never got that choice.”

  They all frowned. Iago dropped his gaze then frowned harder at the table when he noticed the missing chips.

  “Suddenly having medical stuff done to me while I was unconscious didn’t help either,” I added. I pressed my lips together and tried to think about this next bit. “You keep saying I’m safe with you— with all of you. Is that true?”

  They all nodded.

  “Do I get to choose who I spend time with?”

  Again, they nodded.

  “Does anyone not want to spend time with me?”

  Iago still wasn’t looking at me, but everyone else shook their heads, no.

  I nodded. “Romeo? Do you want to go for a walk?”

  He stood up so fast his chair tipped over. I offered him my hand and he took it.

  We ended up walking the fence line of the camp on the outside this time. For a long time, I didn’t say anything, and neither did he.

  “Do you still have the thesaurus with you?” I asked. He nodded and fished something out of his pocket. This gizmo looked different than the last time we had done this.

  “I hoped I wouldn’t need it,” he wheezed.

  I tensed. “I wish you hadn’t felt you needed to let Mac slit your throat yesterday. But I appreciate that you did it so I could understand you.”

  He just shrugged.

  “Are you okay to talk, or does it hurt?”

  “Okay to talk,” he parrotted.

  “Can you tell me anything about yourself?” I asked. He didn’t say anything for
a long moment. Then I blurted out, “Were you in prison, too?”

  He stiffened beside me.

  “Yes.”

  “Anything I need to worry about?” I asked. Then added, “I really should have asked that before I walked out into a secluded area with you.”

  He chuckled, then spoke with the device translating for him. “I was in a gang. We blew up a courthouse in protest of mass male executions. I wasn’t directly involved, but I was close enough to take some damage,” he gestured to his face, “and to get locked up until my execution or my transport here.” He hesitated. “I volunteered.”

  I nodded. “How do they decide which of you are going to work at the camp and which will be on the front line?”

  He hesitated. “All the orcs assigned to care for humans are here because we are less likely to hurt the humans.”

  “Except for Iago who hunts us,” I added.

  Romeo was quiet for another moment. “No one wants him. They promised that if we hunted down and killed war criminals for them, that we would be given volunteer wives. Iago worked for that, then they told him that he couldn’t because his foot is gone.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” I asked.

  “Females don’t like that,” he replied as though that explained everything.

  “They like trophy hunters instead?”

  Romeo shrugged. “They like pretty men who can kill for them.”

  I wondered if that was really true or just toxic masculinity talking. We were most of the way around the perimeter when I said, “Lucky and Erika— the first time they were together. He didn’t actually—” I trailed off, unsure how to continue.

  Romeo nodded carefully.

  “Erika said he was just happy to be there,” I added.

  He whispered, his voice still scratchy, “Do you want that?”

  “I would let you stay in my room, if we were just sleeping.”

  He didn’t say anything until the house was in sight. Then he asked, “Because you feel safe? Or because you feel I am disposable?”

  I froze. “What?”

  “Was I chosen to stay with you because you feel—”

  “Why do you think you are disposable?” I asked.

  “Iago can hide his foot, but I am not pretty where it shows. I could not talk to you on my own.”

  I ran my hands over my head and pressed my palms to my eyes for a moment. “I don’t think you are disposable.” There was no sound of movement or response from him. I peaked at him from behind my hands. “I don’t feel safe,” I admitted, “but I want to.”

  He nodded. I didn’t say anything until we got back to my room. “This was a mistake.”

  Romeo froze, he looked at me, then nodded and turned to leave.

  “Just—” I started. “I don’t have any pyjamas,” I tried to stall.

  He watched me, clearly waiting for me to start making sense.

  I didn’t even know where to start.

  “Sleep clothes?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  He nodded. “I will get you some,” he said.

  Then he left.

  He was gone for a while, but eventually came back with a freshly laundered shirt in his size. I took it to the bathroom to try on. It covered me more or less. I washed my face and brushed my teeth and gave myself a silent pep talk in the bathroom.

  When I came out, Romeo was sprawled out on the floor. He had pulled over the dog bed to use as a pillow. I just stared at him. After a moment he sat up and managed to look sheepish, which wasn’t an expression I usually associate with a seven-foot-tall space orc with tusks. It was an easy out. I could have just left him there.

  “Um,” I started, then before I could second guess myself too much, I blurted out, “You can sleep on the bed. Just don’t touch me.”

  He nodded and stood up, moving with exaggerated care he lay stiffly on the bed on top of the covers, watching me warily as though he expected this to be a trap. I sighed, then turned off the bathroom lights and fumbled my way to bed to get under the covers.

  The last thing I heard before I fell asleep was a raspy, whispered, “Thank you.”

  ----

  I should have guessed that the guy who just had throat surgery was going to snore. Still, he slept through the night without trying to get at me. I crawled out of bed in the morning, still feeling tired. Romeo rolled over with a snort. I headed to the kitchen, wishing for coffee. The other guys were all avoiding looking at me, while randomly baring their teeth.

  I was trying to figure out if they were grimacing or smiling.

  “I miss coffee,” I muttered. That caused them to suddenly turn to look at me. “I don’t suppose we ever get to just have a day off and have breakfast in bed or anything?” That didn’t make the staring any less.

  “We eat with others, they can see we aren’t hurting you,” Tybalt explained.

  “You can see Erika,” Iago argued.

  “She tell you what Lucky’s junk feels like,” Mac muttered quietly like he wasn’t sure if he wanted me to hear him or not.

  I turned to the door, about to rush out to find her when I realized I wasn’t wearing pants. How had I not noticed I was half-naked around them? I turned to go back to my room, only to remember Romeo was passed out on the bed. Okay, the straightforward approach had worked before.

  “I need human things.” I tried to keep the worry out of my voice, but based on how they all got a little wide-eyed, I don’t think it worked.

  “What human things?” Iago asked, carefully.

  “Pants to start with. A bra would be nice. Some way to have hot water for drinking at least, since I can’t imagine you have a coffee roastery set up. A hairbrush—” I stopped as they all sprang into action. Every single one of them pulled a comb out of their various pockets in their cargo pants and hopefully offered it to me. “Ooookay… Tell me what I’m missing here.”

  Iago lowered his hand first. He was always quick to assume I was rejecting him, even if he was the best at explaining things. Sure enough, he added, “It’s good to take care of each other.”

  I gave my brain a chance to work before replying. “Sort of like a … social grooming thing?”

  They watched me for a moment, then Iago growled under his breath and they hesitantly nodded.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  Mac fielded that one. “New words, trying to understand. Means washing friends?”

  I blinked. “That wasn’t a translation I would have thought of, but it’s more or less accurate.” When there wasn’t immediate understanding on their faces, I added, “Yeah, washing friends, keeping them clean and tidy.”

  Tybalt was still a few conversation threads behind, because he asked, “Want food and Erika here today?”

  “Yeah, if I can.”

  “Want to make food here?” he added, very tentatively.

  “I don’t cook much,” I admitted. “The food you eat is better than what I could make. The food served to the humans inside the fence is horrible, though. I could do better than that.”

  The criticism of the sludge they were feeding us made everyone uncomfortable, but I wasn’t going to take it back. Iago managed to change the subject when he announced, “I’ll go get Erika.”

  I shook my head. “Romeo is still asleep. Ask one of her guys if I can go over there.”

  He flinched a little but nodded. There was a staring contest that Mac lost and he left too. I looked at Tybalt, who gave me a shy smile.

  I sighed. “C’mon. Let’s go sit on the couch and you can tell me about how you ended up here.”

  ----

  From what I could tell, Tybalt just looked embarrassed. He was sitting on the couch and fidgeting with the seam on the cushion. I watched him avoid making eye contact for a few moments. “How bad is it?”

  Tybalt shrugged. “Not proud. I took bets.”

  “Okay. You were a gambler? Or a bookie?” I suggested.

  He winced and shook his head. “I make sure rig
ht person wins.”

  I leaned back, understanding. “You are a fixer.”

  He just looked confused.

  “You took bets then arranged for someone to win so that you would get the most money.”

  He shook his head, “No. So someone else get the most money.”

  “Ah. So, what happened? Did you get caught?”

  He squeezed his face up tight like he was trying to hide behind his eyelids. He shook his head, again. “It didn’t work. Others not get money. Get angry instead.”

  I frowned. “How did that get you in prison?”

  He shook his head. “Stupid.”

  I waited. He was still not looking at me.

  He gritted his teeth. “No.”

  “You don’t want to tell me,” I pressed.

  “I tell you, I die. I don’t tell you, you get rid of me. I don’t want.”

  I considered that. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” he asked.

  “Okay, you don’t have to tell me.”

  He stared at me in shock. “I go?”

  “You can stay. If your secret will get you killed, then it could get me killed too. I don’t want that.” I looked back towards the kitchen. “Am I in danger with you being here?”

  He shook his head anxiously.

  “Do the others know?”

  Tybalt just looked pained. “Iago knows.”

  I considered that and wondered if Iago would give me an honest answer about the risk.

  But Tybalt wasn’t done. “Not scary secret, stupid secret. No danger to you or Ericka.”

  “What about danger to Iago?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Just me.”

  Looking at him, all I could see was worry. “You’re afraid.”

  “I don’t want to go.”

  I frowned and tried to process that. They thought I would trade them in. I was afraid of what they could do to me, and they were afraid of me not valuing them. “I’m not going to get rid of you if you aren’t a danger to me,” I offered.

  He did not seem reassured.

  It hit me then, that he was as afraid of me as I was of him. The realization knocked the breath out of my lungs. I stood up. “I need to go see Erika.” I started walking towards the door, only to remember, again, that I still didn’t have any pants.

  I stopped. My mind was spinning in circles. I was here. Romeo was still snoring. It was just me and Tybalt here. “I wasn’t living in the woods. I had a safe place. I just want to go back there. I was on my own but it felt safe. I haven’t felt safe since you guys found me. Being alone was safe.”

 

‹ Prev