Exiled

by RaShelle Workman

Venus had consigned herself to waiting for Zaren. She didn’t think her body could handle much more anyway. Since it was Sunday, Dervinias had made plans with friends. Venus promised him she’d stay in the house and he took off.

  “So much for watching out for me,” she muttered, though she was happy to see him go. Some Venus time sounded great. And she didn’t need looking after.

  Alone for the first time in days, she plopped onto the couch and turned on the TV. After flicking through the channels, she settled on a Mork and Mindy marathon. The main character, Mork, was an alien doof. Much different from any kelarian she’d ever met. Different from any humans, too. The episode running was about Mork being pregnant. “I’m preggers. I’ve got a bun in the oven.” Ridiculous. And hilarious. She couldn’t stop herself from giggling. “Oooh. Eeeen. I just felt a sharp pain. What does it mean? The doctor replied, “It means you’re in labor and I’m playing singles.” It hurt to laugh, but she let herself anyway. She’d seen a couple of the episodes in Earth Studies and thoroughly enjoyed them.

  Next to her sat a bowl full of popcorn. She’d popped it in the microwave. Grabbing a couple of the funky-shaped kernels, she set them on her tongue. After chewing and swallowing, she made a face. Venus decided it smelled way better than it tasted. The loose, yellow bits were hard and annoying.

  About half way through the second show, Michael called.

  “Venus? Hi, it’s Michael.” He sounded tired. Stressed out. Full of grief.

  “Hey Michael. It’s nice to hear from you.” Grabbing the remote, she muted the TV. She was thrilled to hear from him, but curious why he’d called her. “What’s up?” She tried to keep her voice light. But what she really wanted to do was ask how he was.

  “Would you like to get together? Hang out.” She heard a strange quality in his voice like his words were rehearsed.

  “Sure, Michael.” Venus waited, crossing her legs. The heel of her boot caught her attention. Thump. Thump. Then a pause. Thump. Thump. She wanted to scream at him, “Fall in love already. I’m going to die.” She didn’t.

  He cleared his throat. “Do you remember where we first met?”

  Did she remember? He’d slapped her with her first kiss. How could she forget? “Sure, I think so. Why?”

  “I thought we’d take a hike and talk.”

  How odd.

  But his voice had created a pulling in her chest, like her heart was one end of a magnet. Her body wanted him near, longed for his touch. She remembered the way his lips brushed hers, and her skin grew hot.

  Don’t go. Stay away, her mind shouted.

  Far away.

  His calling meant danger. But she wanted to see him. Shutting off the TV, she said, “Yeah, I’d like that. Um, I don’t have a way to get there though.” Maybe she could ask Chev for a ride. That might be for the best anyway, the three of them together. Although Chev might think it was weird he’d invited Venus to hang out. What was going through his head?

  “No problem. I’ll come get you.” He paused and blew out a ragged breath. “Where do you live?”

  Venus gave him Dervinias’s address.

  “Cool, I’ll see you in about ten minutes.” He hung up.

  “Cret.” She wheezed as she rushed into the bathroom. At the mirror, she checked her teeth for popcorn kernels and decided to brush them. Then she went into her bedroom and changed into a long-sleeved, red shirt and her heaviest coat. The weather had turned chillier, and the air felt thick, heavy with moisture, like it would snow any moment. Venus figured it’d be even colder in the mountains. There wasn’t enough time to braid her hair so she left it down. Because of her irritating cough, she also put a bunch of tissues in her pocket.

  A nagging worry sat on her heart. She didn’t have a way to communicate with Zaren. Even if he could read her mind, she had no idea what he’d say. Well, she had an inkling. He’d say it was a bad decision—unwise. But since he wasn’t there, she went with what she wanted. Dervinias wasn’t around either. He’d be gone all day. At the last second, Venus wrote a note and left it on the kitchen table, telling them where she’d gone and with whom.

  When Michael arrived, a hitch caught in her throat. He looked miserable. Dark circles hung like blackened moons under his eyes. His mother’s death had taken a toll on him.

  “Hi. You ready?”

  “I am,” Venus answered.

  She couldn’t help studying him, searching for some hint of what he was thinking. In spite of everything, he looked gorgeous.

  His eyes. Today they were chocolate brown with flecks of green and gold around the edges. His hair kept falling over his eyebrows, touching his long lashes. He’d flip his head every few minutes, trying to move it.

  He had on a light blue denim jacket with what looked like lamb’s wool lining the inside. His navy shirt buttoned down the front and he wore a white t-shirt under it. Jeans and black boots completed the outfit.

  He looked perfect.

  Get a hold of yourself, princess, she berated, trying to think like Zaren.

  They walked to his car in silence. After she’d settled into the car and Michael pulled away from the curb, Venus asked, “What’s up?”

  He tapped the steering wheel with his thumbs and his left leg jiggled. He seemed nervous.

  “My mom died,” he blurted.

  “When,” she returned. The horror surrounding him seeped into her skin. His pain was thick, palpable.

  “Last night,” he whispered. “She was . . . murdered.”

  She blinked. Had there been an accusing edge to his words?

  “Murdered? Michael, I’m so sorry.” Tears fell onto her cheeks. “Do they know who did it?” Venus wiped her face with the back of her hand. Of course Chev had already told her that and more, but hearing it from him . . . Venus was heartbroken. Poor Michael.

  He looked over at her, his face masked. “They’ve pretty good idea. Hopefully they’ll have the criminal in custody soon.”

  She placed a hand over his. “Well that’s a relief. I hope whoever did it suffers.”

  He cringed at her touch. She pulled away, self-conscious, and clasped her hands in her lap.

  Does he hate me again?

  “I’m glad you feel that way. I agree.”

  The radio played a song by the Effronics. Venus loved Earth music from the 80’s. The voice of Sammy Lemmon sang:

  “The gurgling wind has come again

  Swirling around as a recollection

  Blowing through my mind like a new sensation

  We need to run in a thunderstorm

  We need to speak our true emotions

  We need to swim in each other’s devotion

  Can you feel it, too . . .”

  Venus listened, an overwhelming urge to run consumed her. It was impossible to escape, so she settled on grabbing hold of the dash. It didn’t help. The feeling persisted.

  Michael looked over, his expression unreadable.

  She gave him a half smile and nodded. Sickness spread through her abdomen. Her senses were on edge, too. She had the feeling he really hadn’t asked her to go for a drive so that they could talk about his mom. There was more to it. He wanted something from her. Closure?

  “Why are we headed up to the spot we met?”

  Sammy Lemmon sang:

  “Baby, talk to me

  Like a lover does

  Walk beside me

  Like a lover does . . .”

  His face tightened at her question. She watched him grind his teeth.

  “It’ll be a nice place to talk.”

  “Okay.” Her heart beat fast and the wheeze returned. She cleared her throat to make it stop. But that produced a cough. Grabbing a tissue from her pocket, she covered her mouth. There’d be blood again.

  Apprehension stretched over his face. “What’s really wrong with you?”

  Could she reveal the truth—blurt out: “Michael I’m from another planet and this world’s air is killing me.�
� No. Now wasn’t the time. He wasn’t ready.

  “I’m not sure,” she pulled her hair over to one side and weaved it into a long braid. As she unbraided her hair, Michael pulled off to the side of the road. They were close to the spot where she’d first met him. Up the hill less than a mile.

  He put the car in park, turned it off and then faced her, but said nothing. Waiting. Maybe mulling over what he wanted to say. Finally, he said, “Those things you said to my mother the other day . . .” His mouth went tight, lips pressed together into a fine line.

  She remembered the ruthless way she’d yelled at his mother. Most of the words blurred together. Venus had been angry. But she knew she’d threatened her. Telling her she’d wish she were dead. Oh no!

  “I hope you know, I had nothing to do with your mother’s death. Sure, I was mad when I spoke to her, but I’d never hurt her.” The fear she’d been experiencing increased.

  He turned away, facing the steering wheel. Venus watched his jaw working, grinding away whatever he wasn’t saying. He blinked, as though he were trying not to cry. His face hardened. Venus had no idea if he heard her or not.

  “Michael—”

  “So, how’s your shin?” he asked.

  She sighed. “Better, thanks.” Venus looked away and began to re-braid her hair. She focused on her hands, trying to figure out what to do. He was angry, but she needed him to understand she hadn’t done this. It felt like she was being framed again. Why was this happening to her?

  “What about the stuff you knew about my mother? And me?” He glared, but appeared curious, too. He wanted answers. “And what’s the deal with your blood? The color.”

  “I can’t . . .” She trailed off, placing her hands back in her lap. How could she explain herself? He must have an idea of her differences, which had to be why he asked the questions. She chewed on her bottom lip, ignoring the pain in her body.

  “Yeah?” He watched her, eyes guarded, but still full of interest. Then he shook his head. “You wanna take a walk?”

  She did. The car left her claustrophobic. “Sure.”

  They opened the car doors and climbed out. Freezing air stung her cheeks. The smell of pine trees and frozen dirt filled the air. Above them, the sky looked heavy, burdened with moisture. A snowflake fell on her nose. She brushed it away, but another fell in almost the same spot. Raising her face skyward, she tried to breathe it in. Another flake hit her cheek, melted. The beautiful snow left her breathless. It didn’t snow in Alayeah. At the top of Hathinia’s Peak, the snow never melted, but she hadn’t ever been.

  Venus looked over to see how Michael reacted to the snow. He frowned, his body stiff. Stifling a sigh, she went to stand next to him. Together, they started up the mountain. He walked fast. She tried to keep his pace, but the higher altitude wasn’t making it easy. And she started to fall behind.

  He looked back, “You coming?” The set of his jaw had slackened a bit, but tension still radiated. Sorrow, too. Snow clung to his hair, melted, and more took its place.

  Venus worked to speed up, but it wasn’t possible. “Yes.” A tight tickle, evidence a cough was coming, filled her lungs. She grabbed a clean tissue from her pocket and covered her mouth.

  “I’m not sure I can make it. Can we stop here a second and rest?”

  He appeared anxious to move on, but he walked back to her. When he stopped, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Of course.”

  Venus searched the surrounding area and found what she wanted, a large speckled boulder, off to the left of the trail. A thin layer of snow dusted the top. She went over, brushed it off. “So cold,” she whispered and sat, watching the fluffy sheet fall from the sky. Flakes kept catching on her eye lashes. She blinked them away.

  “I’m going to walk up a ways. Be right back.” Michael pushed his hands deep into his pockets and continued up the trail.

  “Okay,” she nodded, but he wasn’t paying attention. Obviously, his mind was elsewhere, most likely on his mother. She hurt for him. Ached. Venus wanted to take away his pain. If she could’ve brought his mother back, she would’ve. Probably having a parent, even one so mean, was better than nothing. She didn’t know. Her parents, though always busy, were kind. She knew they loved her. But what could she do for Michael? What did he want? An urgency to leave raced through her stomach and pressed against her chest.

  But she couldn’t run. Her lungs, skin . . . her entire being felt exhausted. She wasn’t going anywhere for a few minutes. The idea of taking another step seemed incomprehensible. So she remained on the rock, watching the snow envelop her.

  Light diminished as the darkening sky deepened. The pine trees turned from green to white. It really is beautiful. She wanted to fully enjoy the moment, but sadness and fear forced away any other emotion. The invisible weight, Earth’s atmosphere, compelled her to breathe in shallow spurts, which brought on the scratchiness in her lungs. When Michael finally reappeared, she felt relieved. It was time to go. She needed rest.

  “Hey, maybe you should’ve asked Cheverly to come with you instead of me. Sorry, but I don’t think I can go all the way up to the stream.” Venus tucked her hands in her pockets.

  He shrugged. “It’s fine. We can sit here and talk, if you like.” He made his way over, brushed off a spot on the rock and sat next to her. Hands in his lap. Head down.

  “You want to tell me about it?” She placed a hand over his. He flinched; pulling away like she’d hurt him or had a contagious disease. No, it was more like he knew she . . . wasn’t human. He seemed afraid of her. “Michael, I’d be glad—”

  But she wasn’t able to finish. A clothed sack went over her head. And large, rough hands pulled her backward off the rock. Venus tried to scream, but started coughing. She heard noises all around her, including shouting and a constant beeping.

  “Help. Please, help me. Michael!”

  Someone pulled her arms behind her back. They placed a restraint over her wrists and tightened. Venus tried to back-kick whoever it was, but they must’ve moved. Off to the side, maybe. She began twisting her body and yelling. “Stop. Stop it. Why are you doing this?”

  A man said, “Son, get her legs.”

  Then she was lifted up and dropped heavily to the ground. Pain seared through her hands and shoulder. Someone crossed her right foot over her left. Because of her boots, she didn’t feel their hands, only the pressure. When she tried to move her feet, they wouldn’t budge. The inside of the bag which covered her head had become sticky, a combination of blood and snow. When they moved her, different parts of the bag touched her face. Blood smeared her cheeks, nose, forehead, neck and probably even her hair. The smell of her blood made her sick.

  “Michael, help. Please stop. Why are you doing this?”

  “Get the bag off her head. She’s too loud, we need to gag her.”

  When they removed it, the light hurt her eyes. She squinted, blinked, but it was difficult to see. She heard someone suck in their breath.

  “Why is there blood everywhere?”

  “I told you Frank, she’s sick.”

  Michael and his dad were behind this evil.

  “Michael,” she screamed.

  A hard instrument bashed against her head.