I nodded. My mouth felt too dry to talk.
Grandma stretched and made a big show of checking the watch beneath all of her bracelets. “Heaven and Earth, what happens to the mornings? Already time to make brunch.” She stood and motioned to her now-empty seat. “Why don’t you sit down, Scrub?”
“Oh, I probably have some work to do,” I mumbled.
“Nonsense. Two guests arrived this morning, but I took care of them before you woke up. We have no more scheduled until this afternoon. You actually have a little time to yourself. Isn’t that nice?” She patted the seat cushion. And her smile was a little too big as she hurried out through the swinging kitchen door.
Amy flashed me her lopsided grin, and that cluster of freckles on her nose bunched up. “Guess what? I just learned a little secret about this house. Wanna hear it?”
My heart pounded. “A secret? What secret?”
“Promise you won’t tell anyone?” She said it slowly, drawing out the suspense.
Oh no. What had Grandma told her? “Of course.”
She leaned forward in her chair. “Well…I learned”—she glanced from side to side, as if checking for eavesdroppers—“that the front door to this house actually comes all the way open when someone named Scrub is not standing there and blocking it with his body. Isn’t that amazing?”
I exhaled heavily. “Very funny.”
“Yep, it opens right up, and then someone of my approximate size and shape can actually enter the house. Who would have thought?”
I wondered how I was going to be able to get her out of here now that she had actually penetrated the Intergalactic Bed and Breakfast’s perimeter defenses. I mean, not only was Grandma trying to guard Earth’s greatest secret with a white picket fence and a couple of lawn gnomes, but she had just invited in the one person from Forest Grove most interested in her secret.
I looked nervously around the sitting room. Some confused and half-disguised alien could come barreling down the stairs at any moment.
I didn’t notice the awkward silence until Amy cleared her throat. “This is the part where you say you’re glad I came over,” she stage-whispered. “And then you ask me how I like it here.”
“Amy, you know I’m glad that you came over.” A little awkward silence. “So…how do you like it here?”
“Thanks for asking. This place is great,” she said. “My house is so plain, it makes me want to scream.” She fingered a string of beads hanging from the table. “By the way your Grandma decorates, I can tell we have similar interests.”
Okay, that’s just creepy. I silently willed her to stop making comparisons between my grandmother and the girl I liked.
“So…what were you two talking about?”
“I was getting her advice about college.” Amy indicated the scattered papers.
“You’re already thinking about college?” I picked up one of her papers. Printed across the top was Astrobiology at the University of Washington: A Graduate Certificate Program. The background showed a bright blue Earth against a starry sky, along with enlarged microscope images of strange organisms.
“What’s astrobiology?” I asked.
“The study of life in the universe.”
“You mean alien life?” The pressure of Grandma’s secret felt like a weight on my chest. “They actually have college classes on that kind of stuff?”
“Astrobiology is hard science. Totally legitimate,” Amy said, maybe a little defensively.
She was watching me closely, so I tried to keep my voice neutral. “But if no one’s ever met an alien, how can you study them?” I was careful not to add, Unless you spend the weekend at Grandma’s.
“Well, it takes a little imagination to get started,” she said. “First off, did you know that some organisms can survive in boiling water? Or within nuclear reactors? Scientists have even found bacteria thriving in toxic-waste sites.”
“Okay…so?”
“So let’s say you’re gathering information about a really hot, wet planet. To us, its surface would basically be like a boiling toxic-waste site, and we’d figure there’s no way any life could grow there, right?”
“Yeah…”
“But if we learn about how some types of Earth life, even bacteria, can live in conditions like that, then we might be able to figure out how life grows on those other planets. So you can study life in the universe without ever getting on a spaceship. Pretty neat, huh?”
As usual, I didn’t know what to say. Here I was worried about the upcoming FCAT—this test we have to pass in Florida before we can move up to eighth grade—and Amy was already making plans for college.
I had to smile a little, though. With the dozens of aliens I had met in the last couple of weeks, I probably had more astrobiology research under my belt than all of the science professors at the University of Washington combined.
Amy said, “I find it hard to believe you’ve never wondered about life on other planets. Especially working around here.” Why was she saying it like that? Was she testing me? “You’ve never thought about what aliens might be like?”
I dropped my head to avoid her gaze and mumbled, “Not really.” You don’t have to wonder about the mysteries of alien existence when you spend the afternoon cleaning their bathroom—the whole idea sort of loses a little bit of the magic after that.
“Well, I think it’s fascinating. A great thing about this college program is that I’ll get to study all kinds of science at the same time: astronomy, biology, oceanography. Plus a bunch of other stuff. I might be young, but I know this is what I want to do with my life.” Amy’s cheeks got pink when she talked about something that made her excited. I realized she should probably be working here instead of me.
“And you’ve been talking to my grandma about all this stuff?” I asked. Amy nodded. Little pinpricks of panic stabbed at my thoughts. Grandma was so accustomed to the aliens that nothing surprised her anymore. She might slip up and accidentally reveal anything during a friendly discussion. “So…what’d she say?”
“She was great. Told me she’s always been interested in life on other planets, too. In fact, she said that if she were my age, she would plan on doing the exact same thing.” Amy’s smile faded a bit. “She’s a lot more supportive than my dad, that’s for sure. And easier to talk to.”
I nodded, understanding. Whenever I talked to Grandma she looked right at me, those pink glasses making her eyes huge, and seemed to really think about what I had to say. And, of course, the things we talked about were top secret, and important. So it was different from talking with any other adult. “But I thought you said your dad was the one who got you interested in aliens? Watching movies and stuff?”
“Yeah, but his interest is different. If he ever met an alien he’d probably want to shoot it, not study it. He thinks I’d be wasting my time in college. Says that if I like to talk so much, then I should be a lawyer. Yecch.” Amy made a hideous face and rolled her eyes. I laughed. Things seemed to be going okay. Maybe I didn’t have to be so stressed out after all.
Grandma glided back into the room. “Well, it looks like you two are getting on well,” she said, beaming. “It’s time for brunch with some of my guests. Amy, we would be most honored if you could join us.”
I moved behind Amy’s chair and mouthed No! while I made the throat-slashing gesture at Grandma like I was playing a life-or-death game of charades.
Amy turned around to look quizzically at me, and I stopped moving. I glanced at her and then back at Grandma. I swallowed heavily. “Oh, I don’t, uh, think that’s a very good idea.”
“Of course it’s a good idea.” Grandma and Amy both said this at the exact same time. Scary. They looked at each other and laughed.
Amy stood up, and Grandma took her by the arm and led her down the hallway. It took about three seconds before they were deep in conversation. I sighed, closed the front door, and trudged down the hall after them. As I neared the kitchen, I crossed my fingers. Please be empty, p
lease be empty, please be empty.
Grandma pushed open the swinging door. No such luck—the place was packed this morning.
I tried to see everything from Amy’s point of view. Grandma’s big dining table is L-shaped with seats for more than twenty-five guests, and most of them were filled. The Tourists were disguised, sure, but all together like that they had to look a bit odd to someone who doesn’t hang out here every day. And when they all get to babbling together, the sound can be a little unsettling. I figured Amy might be a little hesitant, and I could help control the action.
But she just walked right in and sat down in an empty chair at the middle of the table, near Mr. Harnox and an alien family poring over a hiking map. She helped herself to some scrambled egg substitute from a serving bowl.
“Hello, little ones,” Mr. Harnox said as I slid into the seat between them. “It is a morning that is good, yes?”
“Yes it is,” Amy said cheerfully. “Good morning to you, too.”
“I enjoy how the one sun rises and sets so often in this place,” a female Tourist near Mr. Harnox said. Her shoulders were too broad and straight to be strictly normal in the human sense, and her neck was longer than it should be, but I supposed she could pass for an earthling. “At home I feel the loneliness when our suns are darkened for a seeming age.”
Amy cast a sidelong glance at me. “She…um…must be from Alaska,” I whispered out of the side of my mouth. “You know, one of those towns where it can be night for, like, over a month sometimes.”
Amy nodded. “I don’t think they have any domesticated squids for pets up there,” she whispered back to me, “so I guess we’re going to have to find something else to talk to her about.” Then she went back to calmly filling up her plate. My heart started beating again.
“These are so very delicious,” said one Tourist, pointing to his plate. His skin was really loose, drooping and sagging all over his face. “What are they called?”
“Those are pancakes,” Amy said.
I gave a polite laugh, way too nervous, trying to distract Amy from such a strangely obvious question. “Yep, those are pancakes all right!” Amy and the Tourist looked at me, and I smiled much too big. “Mmmm-mmm. Pancakes,” I said, too loudly. Amy and the alien exchanged a pitying glance that said they were both aware that there was someone very strange at the table, but they weren’t going to embarrass me by saying anything about it.
“And these are also tasty,” said the female Tourist. When she opened her mouth to take another bite, I noticed that her tongue was bright green. How could Grandma have missed that during her morning GRADE job? I silently prayed that Amy hadn’t noticed.
Amy nodded. “Yes. Those are sausages.” She was being very matter-of-fact, but my stomach was still all wonky. This could not last much longer before she got suspicious.
“Made out of tofu,” I clarified. Grandma kept all of the Tourists on a strictly vegan diet when they visited Earth. You could never be too careful when it came to alien appetites. She didn’t want to give them a bunch of processed food, afraid that the chemicals might mess with their systems. It would be pretty bad PR if enriched riboflavin turned out to be man’s greatest weapon against the aliens.
And real meat of any kind was out. What if one of the domesticated pets from their planet—alien’s best friend—looked just like a pig, or a cow? It could start up some type of interplanetary incident.
Mr. Harnox scrolled through an electronic book-thing and held it up so the female Tourist could take a look. It was open to a page showing a picture of a soybean plant with some unfamiliar writing underneath. The Tourists all passed the book around, pointing at the picture and chattering excitedly among themselves. I caught a glimpse of the caption on the page: Plants of Earth. The weirdness factor was definitely starting to get out of hand, and some holograms could pop out of that alien book at any time. I glanced to my side where, thankfully, Amy was focused on her plate, but still it was getting way too close.
Amy raised her head. She gave a quick glance at me and then addressed the group. “So, you’ve never eaten pancakes or sausage for breakfast? Where are you all from?”
Yikes. The situation had hit DEFCON One. I had to act immediately, because I sure didn’t want anyone here to answer that one. The only idea I had was to fake a coughing fit, but I gave it all I had—pounding on the table, hacking until I was red in the face, the works.
“Scrub, are you okay?” Amy said. She patted me on the back and handed me a glass of water.
“Thanks,” I croaked. The aliens were still passing around the book. I had to keep stalling. “So, um, what are you doing this weekend?” I asked.
Amy’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I’m so glad you asked. Actually, that’s one of the reasons I stopped by today. I’m going to hike along the Nooksack. It has all of these creeks that split off of it, right? Some kids dammed one up at the beginning of summer and made a swimming hole. They even tied a rope swing over it. You can swing right over the pool and drop into the water. It’s awesome.” Her eyes dipped for a minute; then she looked back up at me, right in my eyes. “I know the water’s probably way colder than you’re used to, Mr. Florida Sunshine, but do you think you might be able to come? Do you…Would you want to?”
That sounded like a lot of fun. And it would be nice to hang out with Amy somewhere far away from the bed-andbreakfast. But before I could answer, I noticed a Tourist behind Amy, the one with the round head that was too big and the round body that was too little. He was eating his place mat, napkin, and silverware, all piled on top of each other like a sandwich. I had to make sure Amy didn’t turn her head—an astrobiologist-in-training might pick up on a clue like that—so I suddenly started gesturing at her with my hands. But I couldn’t think of anything to say while I was gesturing, so it was a pretty awkward attempt at a distraction.
Grandma cruised by with a fresh platter of food. When she passed, she lightly swatted the silverware-eating Tourist on the hands. “You stop that now,” she whispered. “Just eat the food, please.”
“Sorry,” he whispered sheepishly. “I thought it was food. It tasted better than that tofu.”
I snorted. That alien and I had a lot in common.
“Are you all right, Scrub?” Amy said. I realized that I was still gesturing with my hands.
“Oh, yeah. Great. Everything’s great. I was just—uh—practicing my swimming. You know, in case we get a chance to go to that water hole together.”
“Okay…” She watched me until I stopped gesturing. “So, does that mean you’ll come?”
I nodded, much too vigorously. “Sounds like fun.” I speared a bit of pancake with my fork and pushed it around the plate, slogging through puddles of syrup. I tried to smile and imitate the quiet calm that Grandma always had, like everything was perfectly ordinary. But then the tofu-sausage-loving Tourist shot her green tongue out of her mouth like a frog, curled it around another link on the serving dish, and sucked it back into her mouth. It only took a split second, but if Amy had seen, it would have been a disaster. Time to end this.
“Whoops!” I said, and knocked over my glass so that milk spilled all over Amy’s plate. “Sorry about that! But it looks like you won’t be able to finish. Ha-ha! Whoops!” Totally babbling. And there went my chance to make a single human friend this summer.
Amy stood up, using her napkin to mop up the milk that had sloshed onto her jeans. “I’m really sorry,” I said lamely.
Grandma came over. “Is everything okay?” she said.
“I think it’s time for Amy to go now.” I said it pretty forcefully, looking at Grandma and hoping she would pick up on my unspoken meaning. But Amy, of course, took it the wrong way. She looked at the floor and bit her lip; and even I, who knew nothing about girls, could tell she was pretty upset.
I moved toward Amy and tried to salvage part of the morning. “But that hike sounds fun. Really. And the swimming. Maybe we could—”
“It’s okay, Scrub. I can take the
hint. I know you’re busy.” Amy finished drying off and dropped her napkin on the table. She looked at Grandma. “Thank you so much for breakfast.” Then she walked out of the kitchen through the swinging door.
Grandma watched her leave, then turned to me and put her hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Scrub. I was only trying to help. You’ve been working so hard, and I thought this morning would be a good chance to take a breather and make a friend.”
I shrugged. There was nothing to say. And, okay, so maybe I was a little worried that I might actually start crying or something. The last thing I needed just then was a group of aliens loudly discussing why the earthling was shooting salt water out of his vision cavities.
One of the Tourists held up the Plants of Earth page of Mr. Harnox’s e-book. “Please for us to try a portion of this for the lunch meal? It looks positively tasty!” The page showed a picture of a giant cactus. Several Tourists clapped their hands in delight.
I shook my head and pushed my way through the swinging kitchen door and down the hall. When I got to my room I flopped onto my bed and stared up at the ceiling. It was a relief to finally be alone.
Now, if only I didn’t feel so lonely.
After that day, Amy stopped coming by the bed-and-breakfast.
I felt terrible about what had happened, but I didn’t know what I was supposed to do about it. I thought about trying to call her, but chickened out. There was even a part of me that was glad I didn’t have to constantly make excuses and cover up for the aliens anymore. How lame is that? I mean, I was talk-ing regularly with scaly, sharp-fanged creatures from other planets, but I couldn’t even have a conversation with a female of my own species.
I was able to distract myself from these thoughts sometimes, though, because we were so busy at the inn. Almost all the rooms were full every night, and there was always lots of GRADEing to do. But I made sure to volunteer for any supply runs into town, half hoping that I might run into Amy in Forest Grove.
Aliens on Vacation Page 8
