by Tasha Black
“Put me down for the sack race,” she told Georgia.
“Moon pies,” Rocky marveled.
“They’re just like two round pieces of cake with—you know what, never mind. We’ll let that be a surprise,” Georgia told him. Posey noticed that she wore an indulgent smile that indicated she was becoming fond of the guy.
“Nuclear wings,” the waitress said, leaning across the table to set down the basket in front of Rocky, even though it was Posey who had ordered them.
Fortunately for her, she disappeared again before Georgia could unleash hell on her.
Posey pulled the basket close, the aroma of the sauce making her eyes water a little. Just how she liked them.
“What’s that?” Bond asked.
“I don’t know how you eat that stuff,” Georgia sniffed.
“Oh, I’m sorry, would you like some? Georgia? Rima? Boys?” Posey teased.
“Oh, god, don’t even joke,” Georgia said.
Rima laughed.
“Yes, I will share your meal, Posey,” Bond said solemnly.
“Oh, Bond, no. We’re just joking around,” Posey explained. “This is very spicy.”
“I will try it, Posey Quinn,” Bond said firmly, grabbing a wing.
Posey shrugged.
He examined the wing closely.
“It is not a wing at all. It is a tiny drumstick,” he remarked. “And I detect no radioactivity. This small drumstick has been given another name to make it sound like space science.”
And with that, he took a bite.
The women leaned in as he chewed.
Posey saw the exact moment when the spice kicked in.
First Bond’s brow furrowed, then he put a hand to his mouth.
When his eyes grew wide, Posey handed him a napkin.
“Spit it out,” she advised.
He shook his head, but there were tears in his eyes.
Georgia and Rima laughed.
Bond swallowed and took a big drink of water. He smiled in relief, but then his hand went to his mouth again.
“What’s happening to me?” he gasped at Posey.
“Oh, um, that’s what spicy food does to you. Water makes it worse. Milk helps,” she told him. “So does the dressing - here.”
She fixed him a piece of celery with a dollop of blue cheese.
He looked at it suspiciously, but ate it.
Then he helped himself to another.
“Better?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Don’t bother trying to steal a bite of her food, Bond. She puts hot sauce on everything,” Rima laughed. “I can’t even stand it, and I’m Indian.”
The burgers arrived and they all dug in as Georgia outlined a practice schedule for their events.
Posey snuggled into Bond’s side and tried to pretend for a few minutes that they were just a normal group of friends, getting together to plan a fun day at the fair.
25
Bond
Bond stood in the tall grass, watching Posey.
The sun was not shrouded by clouds, the sky was an electric blue, and Bond was alone with his beautiful woman.
But his heart was troubled.
He was distraught at the idea of the ship’s broken control array of course, and the idea that he had caused a risk to everyone through his foolhardy challenge.
But these kinds of thoughts usually tended to fade away when Posey was near.
Bond, a man who held strong and steady in the face of Rocky’s clowning and Magnum’s mood swings, felt like a satellite, dizzy from the circling thoughts of Posey, her smile, her laughter, the way she ate, and even the thoughtless way she ran a hand through her hair when her mind was far away.
Posey herself had him off-kilter today.
She stood across the field opposite him, her cheeks a glorious shade of pink, a burlap sack hiked up around her waist, unhappiness pouring off her like the mists poured off the crags of his home world in the dark season.
“Come, darling,” he called to her, hoping his smile might trigger hers.
She only frowned and then began to hop toward him.
It was impossible not to read the magenta-flavored anger of her thoughts.
Just as it was impossible not to drink in the sight of her mammaries heaving and jostling as she hopped.
Bond tried very hard not to think about Posey’s luscious form bouncing on his lap.
Her sweater slid down to reveal an inch of the shadowy channel between her perfect breasts and he bit back a growl.
A pox on all these things he wasn’t supposed to think about…
She crashed to the ground, but righted herself before he could reach her. She was getting better at that.
“Good job,” he told her when she reached him. He held his arms out, hoping she would hop into them.
Instead she made a snorting sound.
“Why are you angry?” he asked.
“I’m not angry,” she said, but her voice was deep and she wasn’t looking into his eyes. He didn’t need to enter her mind to read her mood.
“Are you unhappy with your sack?” he asked.
“I’m unhappy with myself,” she replied.
“How can you be unhappy with yourself?” he asked, wishing he could share her thoughts without upsetting her. Everything about Posey was perfection.
“Everyone else has these cool skills, and I can’t do anything,” she said “I’m so useless. I get stuck with the stupid sack race, and I can’t even do that right.”
She ran a hand through her hair and sighed in a way that made his chest hurt to watch it.
“I understand,” he told her. “It is frustrating to be confined to a human body. As I learned to control mine, I was often unhappy. Do you know the first time I— oh, no. Never mind that,” he said, glad he had remembered his manners in time.
“The first time you what?” Posey asked, her eyes coming to life.
“It’s dreadfully bad manners to mention it,” Bond told her sadly, wishing he could fulfill her appetite for his tale.
“It’s not rude if I ask you to tell me,” Posey told him.
“It isn’t?” he asked her.
She shook her head and smiled.
“Well, it was the first time I needed to… use the bathroom. I was convinced that something was very wrong with my body, I thought that it was going to die,” he told her solemnly.
“Oh, wow. Yeah, that must have been weird,” Posey said thoughtfully.
“The whole notion of the body was weird, it was terrible,” Bond explained. “The pain, the need to constantly rest and fuel. It all seemed so inefficient.”
She was nodding now, her dark eyes locked on his. The scent of wild raspberries emanated from her hair. He nearly lost his train of thought.
“And does it seem that way now?” Posey asked him, her eyes on his lips in a way that made him think about pressing his mouth to hers again, reveling in the softness of her…
She raised an eyebrow.
“No, Posey, it doesn’t seem that way anymore. Arriving here I began to experience the goodness of having a body: the warmth of sunlight on skin, the sound of the classical music Dr. Bhimani listens to in her office, the scent of the earth when it rains, the taste of cheeseburgers. I was sure I could spend a hundred years just experiencing the physical world, participating in it by feeling it, touching it, tasting it.
“At least that was what I thought,” he admitted. “But since I met you, Posey Quinn, those other things don’t seem so special anymore. It’s too hard to think about tasting food, or smelling flowers, when all I want to think about is you.
“My brothers and I saw the fireworks display at the park when we first arrived. We thought they were the most amazing thing ever, so graceful and fleeting.
“But now I see fireworks every time you touch me. And I hear a symphony every time you laugh.
“Is there something wrong with my sensory processing? Am I broken?” he asked her.
Posey
blinked back tears and he wondered if he was dying.
Then she was wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her, so close her forehead touched his.
“You are the least broken man I’ve ever met,” she whispered.
And then her soft mouth was brushing his and the melting, teasing agony of pleasure and anticipation raged in him again.
Too soon, she was pulling away.
“Okay, I’m ready to try again,” she whispered. “This thing is tomorrow. We don’t have time for fooling around.”
Posey hopped away, her hair tumbling over her shoulder, as Bond stared after her, smitten.
He felt annihilated by this human love, disintegrated by the glory and the sadness of it. And he welcomed every instant.
26
Posey
Posey thought the day of the festival was one of those perfect fall mornings particular to love songs and children’s books.
It was slightly overcast, and a lazy breeze blew scarlet leaves swirling down onto the lush grass of the churchyard where the tents and booths were set up, flags flying. The town band played gaily as a collection of small children danced and clapped to the beat. Participants in the chili cook-off had been setting up since dawn - the scent of spices and anticipation hung in the air.
Posey’s hand felt snug in Bond’s as they wandered the fairgrounds. They’d split from the group to explore the field.
“What is that?” he asked, pointing to the cotton candy maker.
“It’s cotton candy,” Posey explained.
“Do you eat it or wear it?” he asked.
“Eat it,” she told him, knowing what was coming next.
Bond bought a large blue cone and offered it to her.
Posey smiled, she’d always loved the stuff. She pulled off a piece and held it to his mouth.
Bond licked it off her fingers and then closed his mouth. He smiled. His eyebrows shot up.
“It’s supposed to melt in your mouth,” she told him.
“Amazing,” he said, smiling down at her.
He loved the new foods and wanted to try them all, Posey was afraid to eat much before the sack race, but she was getting plenty of enjoyment from watching Bond.
A man at a booth ahead of them was selling locally sourced honey, the clear bottles glowing amber in the late morning sunlight.
Bond headed right for it.
“Care for a sample?” the man offered, holding out a bottle of honey and a small wooden stick.
“Thank you,” Bond replied politely.
He took the bottle and tilted it to his lips.
As Posey watched in horror, Bond drank the entire bottle of honey.
When he was finished, he smacked his lips like a cartoon bear.
The vendor was staring at him, his arm still out to offer the wooden sample stick as if he had been frozen in place.
“I’ll just go ahead and pay for the bottle,” Posey said.
“That’ll be seventeen dollars,” the man replied without taking his eyes off Bond.
“Seventeen dollars?” Bond asked in a surprised voice.
“Oh, it’s fine,” Posey said. “That was worth it.”
“It is not meant to be consumed that way,” Bond noted.
“Not usually,” Posey agreed. “A little goes a long way.”
“It is wonderful,” he said, smacking his lips again.
“It is,” Posey agreed. “They use it in all kinds of stuff. Sometimes as a sweetener, but also in cosmetics and health products.”
“Health products?” Bond asked with interest.
“You bet,” the man at the booth said, handing Posey her change. “Honey has been revered since ancient times for its antibiotic properties. It’s almost magical.”
Bond stared at the man for a moment, like he was going to ask a follow up question.
“Do you have any water?” Bond asked.
The man just shook his head.
“We’ll grab some up at the next booth, they’ve got water,” Posey told Bond.
They walked up to the next vendor.
“How can I help you dears?” the lady asked.
“We’d love two bottles of water, please,” Posey replied.
“Two bottles of water, you’re so healthy. Are you sure you don’t want some sweet tea to go with that?” the woman offered. “Or maybe I can interest you in a soft pretzel?”
“We’re fine thanks, just the water, right Bond?” she asked, hoping he wasn’t going to eat a box of soft pretzels before trying to ride a steer. She was beginning to think the wrong brother had entered the eating contest.
But he didn’t answer.
She turned to find that he was gone.
“You’ll catch up to him, dear,” the woman smiled. “Now let me see, that’s two waters, and they’re one dollar and six cents each with tax, so that would make it…”
“Keep the change,” Posey said, dropping a five on the plastic table and dashing off. There was no telling what Bond might do next.
She looked around but didn’t see his tall form anywhere.
She was getting ready to text Georgia, when she noticed the crowd gathering at one of the little tents.
As she approached, she saw that the proprietor was rolling marbles under cups in one of those un-win-able betting games.
But instead of grinning broadly, the showman was frowning.
“Oh,” the crowd said as one.
Posey pushed her way through.
“Posey,” Bond smiled at her from the seat at the table.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I have won the game, seven times,” he told her proudly.
Oh, no. No, no, no. He was reading the guy, so of course he always knew which cup had the marble.
“That’s pretty tricky, but we’ve gotta go,” Posey told him.
“Oh,” Bond said sadly. “See you later.”
The dealer brightened up and handed Bond a stack of money.
“Have fun out there,” he told Bond.
“Thank you,” Bond said, looking down at the money as if wondering where it had come from.
“Don’t bring him back,” the man hissed at Posey.
“Don’t worry,” Posey whispered back.
“Is this enough for chili?” Bond asked her, holding out the wad of bills.
Posey laughed.
Bond wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.
She allowed him to kiss her, his mouth warm and still sweet from the honey, his big hands clutching her hips.
Her whole body screamed for him, but she pushed him away lightly, aware that to do more would only torment them both.
He released her but held onto her hand, pulling her tightly to his side as they walked, and then letting go to wrap his arms around her, so that his every movement only crushed his hard, warm body closer to hers.
It was getting tougher and tougher to resist her feelings for him. Posey had told herself she didn’t want to marry an alien. Then when it became clear that this was more than an attraction, she’d told herself she needed to keep it on ice until they dealt with the festival games.
Bond seemed like an innocent in so many ways, but if she thought he was a child, she was the foolish one. Though he might not know the customs of Earth yet, he was wise and patient and strong. Soon he would have his footing, and they wouldn’t have the distraction of teaching him to be human anymore.
Then Posey would have to make a decision.
And it was already hard to remember what was so urgent about getting back to school.
27
Posey
Later that afternoon, Posey and Bond gathered with Georgia, Rima and the boys.
The head of the Stargazer Civic Association stepped onto the small stage to preside over the opening of the games.
“That’s Lorelei Jeffords,” Rima whispered to their group. “She used to be my elementary school principal.”
“Hello.” The woman straightened h
er powder blue blazer and tapped the microphone. The tone of her dulcet voice made it sound like a question.
“Hello,” the crowd said back.
There were a few dozen spectators but certainly not the mad crowd Posey had expected. She’d felt like this would be a bigger deal - maybe only because the stakes were so high for their team.
“Welcome to Stargazer’s Annual Fall Festival Games,” Jeffords said in a cheerful, clear voice. “It’s going to be a doozy this year, with so many fun activities. I’d like to take this opportunity to thank Milky Way Dairy and Stargazer Fine Used Tractor Parts for their sponsorship of this year’s Games.”
She paused and smiled as the crowd gave a bit of polite applause.
“Our first event will be the Mr. Universe, an arm-wrestling contest. We’ve got six teams this year, so we’ll be doing this in rounds,” Jeffords explained. “Right now, I need for all of our contestants to meet at the tables under the blue tent.”
Magnum strode confidently toward the big, blue meeting place.
The others jogged after him.
“Looks like Team Heavy Metal is at table number one along with Team Postage,” Jeffords announced.
Earl and his gang headed over to the table. They must have been Heavy Metal because they were up against a crew that included Lainey from the post office.
Posey took a big swig out of her water bottle. It was going to be a long afternoon.
“At table number two we’ll have the Night Owls and the Mennonites at Work,” Jeffords continued.
Posey sprayed water out of her mouth, silently thankful that they were outside.
“Mennonites at Work?” she asked, wiping her chin.
“Yeah,” Rima giggled. “Ellie and Calvin came up with that.”
“Wow. You’ve got the converts doing the heavy lifting, huh?” Posey teased.
Rima shrugged and smiled.
Magnum sat at the table opposite a large woman. He was scowling at her, and she was scowling right back.
“The Night Owls are the wait staff at the all-night diner up on Jupiter,” Rima whispered. “That’s Tiffany Lewis. She’s really tough.”
“Somehow, I’m still not worried,” Posey quipped.
