by Robin Martin
So when Mum and Dad kindly said I could have a party if I wanted to as long as there was adult supervision, no alcohol and everyone went home by twelve (what kind of party is that?), I turned them down. I didn’t have anyone to invite. So now they and Rion were trying to come up with alternate suggestions for my ‘big’ day.
‘What would you like to do on your birthday, then?’ Rion asked now.
I felt like saying ‘get a new life’, but that would only result in a lecture about how I was in the top ten percent of the world’s population because I was living in relative prosperity in a Western country with a loving family and the ability to get a good education.
I knew all that. But I was also turning sixteen with no friends except an alien who was connected to me for life and, almost as bad, I had gained a kilo and a half and had a pimple coming out on my chin. This was probably due to the junk food I was eating because of my depression. Rion had a perfect body, flawless skin and, having a very logical mind, no idea what depression was because that was too much feeling for him to understand.
Empathy factor? Zilch.
So instead of coming up with a suggestion, I said, ‘Dunno. Maybe something exciting, something I’ve never done before.’
I only said this because I couldn’t think of anything else to say. But Rion took it very seriously and furled his brow in thought. Suddenly his eyes lit up again.
‘I’ve got it, the perfect solution.’
‘What?’ I looked at him with suspicion. My idea of perfect and Rion’s were totally different most of the time.
He gave me his crooked smile. ‘I’m not going to tell you yet. I think it’ll be a surprise. Humans love surprises, don’t they?’
‘Not unless they’re good ones,’ I said. ‘Seriously, Rion, I appreciate you trying to come up with an idea, but maybe you should drop it. Honestly, my birthday’s no big deal. We can just do whatever.’ I was trying hard to be diplomatic. No way did I want a surprise birthday activity that was Rion’s idea. His next suggestion could be even worse than the State Library, if that was possible.
‘Obviously your birthday is a big deal because everyone, including yourself and especially your parents, is putting a lot of thought into it. My people don’t celebrate birthdays, but I can see that they’re significant events here. But don’t worry, Zoe. I’ve come up with a wonderful idea that I’m sure you’ll love. I have to discuss it with your parents first, so I won’t spoil it by telling you yet.’ Rion was getting very excited, for him.
‘No, no, it’s okay, honestly. Maybe we can have a family barbecue or go out to lunch or something.’ I was getting desperate. My parents’ idea of fun was even worse than Rion’s. And that was saying something.
But Rion had stood up. ‘Don’t you have some maths homework to do? Better get started on it because after eight pm the brain definitely doesn’t work at its best. And you know maths is your worst subject.’ That was Rion’s ‘diplomatic’ way of getting rid of me.
I tried once more to deflect him from whatever crazy plan he was going to run past my parents. ‘I really don’t need anything special organised for my birthday. I’m cool with a lunch out or something, really. Maybe we could even go to the beach.’
It still wasn’t very warm and I hated swimming in cold water, but at the moment that idea was looking pretty good—as long as another alien didn’t fall on me from out of the sky.
Rion pulled me up from the chair and propelled me towards the door. ‘Sure, Zoe, whatever you say. We still have plenty of time to think about it. And now I need to get ready for my shower.’ He pushed me out the door and closed it behind me.
Five minutes later I heard him go downstairs instead of to the bathroom. I knew he was going to talk to my parents. When had he learned to be so sneaky? I was filled with a sense of gloomy inevitability. This birthday was going to suck, no matter what we did. I might as well get used to it.
School wasn’t totally lame some days, despite, or maybe because of, my lack of friends. I was getting better marks and sometimes I even enjoyed doing assignments, probably because a) Rion nagged me so much that I was studying more, and b) I didn’t have a life so I had nothing better to do. Since I was in the last semester of year eleven and next year would be my final year at high school, this was probably a good thing. I still had no idea about what I wanted to do, but if my marks didn’t totally suck I might have some choices.
I was reading Pride and Prejudice for English downstairs in the study one day when I heard the conversation—the one I’d been dreading. (I would’ve just watched the movie, but Rion had persuaded me the book was even better. Funnily enough, I didn’t actually mind it.) Mum was in the lounge room reading. It was her turn to cook dinner and the smell of vegetables simmering was already wafting through the house.
I heard Dad come in the front door and go into the lounge. ‘Where are the kids?’ he asked Mum.
The kids. A few days off sixteen and he still called me a kid. And as for Rion, at over four thousand human years of age he had long passed the stage of being a kid, if he ever was one.
‘Upstairs, I think,’ Mum answered.
I was just about to let them know I was there, and remind them of my mature status, when Dad said, ‘Good. I want to talk to you about something.’
I closed my mouth and listened. Maybe I’d finally learn what crazy plan they and Rion had come up with for my birthday. He still wouldn’t tell me.
I heard Dad sit down on the sofa; its ancient springs creaking. ‘I’ve been trying to find out something about Rion’s parents and his uncle.’
I put down my book and sat up in the chair.
Mum sighed. ‘I’ve tried to question him, gently, of course. I do think he’s been through a traumatic experience. He shows all the signs. He tries to change the subject and gets very uncomfortable. And you know how honest he usually is. I haven’t managed to find out anything yet other than what he told us on the first day.’
‘I’ve made some enquiries, but no one seems to know anything about this uncle of his,’ Dad said. ‘I hate to say it, Meg, but I really think we need to contact children’s services soon. This situation can’t go on.’
‘Not yet.’ My mum’s voice sounded pleading. ‘He’s settled in so well with us and he’s such a good influence on Zoe. She’s dropped those unsuitable friends of hers and she’s getting better marks. Rion’s like part of the family now. Look at how much thought he put into planning Zoe’s birthday and how helpful he is around the house.’
‘I know,’ Dad said. ‘I like him too, Meg. And personally I wouldn’t mind how long he stayed. But that’s not the point, is it? He’s a minor and we have a duty to find out the situation with his real family. He’s been here for weeks now and we still haven’t heard from that “uncle” of his. I’m beginning to think he doesn’t exist. I think we have to face the fact that he might’ve run away from home.’ Dad’s voice sounded heavy.
All I could feel was a sense of panic. I’d known we’d have to face this sooner or later. But I was hoping for later, much later. Rion never even talked about it, which was unusual for him. He usually planned everything in detail and had at least three back-up contingency plans. But I had no idea how he was going to explain his lengthy stay here when my parents asked him the awkward questions.
I had to talk to him, fast. But I couldn’t let my parents know that I’d overheard them.
‘I know you’re right,’ Mum said, ‘but let’s at least wait until after Zoe’s birthday before we do anything. And then we will have to talk to him.’
‘Okay,’ Dad said, ‘I guess it can wait till then. Is that something I smell burning?’
‘The veggies!’ Mum said. I heard her rush into the kitchen.
‘I’ll just have a quick shower,’ Dad said.
As his footsteps sounded on the stairs, I closed my book and got up. I waited a few minutes until I was sure Dad was in the ensuite and moved to the open study door. Peering out, I checked that Mum was still
in the kitchen and then crept up the stairs. I needed to talk to Rion pronto.
Of course he was studying when I entered his room. He looked up and tossed back the fringe that always seemed to get in his way. He’d talked about cutting it, but I persuaded him that it looked cool and for some reason he’d listened to me for once.
‘Anything the matter, Zoe?’ he asked.
‘Plenty.’ I plonked down on his bed and told him about Mum and Dad’s conversation. ‘What are we going to do? We’ve only got about a week to sort this out.’ I couldn’t help the note of panic that was in my voice.
He sat back in his chair and thought for a moment.
‘Surely you have a plan,’ I said, getting impatient. Sometimes Rion just didn’t get urgency.
‘I knew, of course, that this was inevitable. I just thought it wouldn’t happen quite so soon. I thought I had a year or two at least to work it out. I still get so confused by human notions of time.’
‘A year or two,’ my voice squeaked. ‘Five or six weeks is actually a long time to spend with someone with virtually no explanation at all, or at least not a very convincing one. I’m surprised my parents waited this long. And that’s only because they like you so much.’
He sighed. ‘A month is like a nanosecond in my time, even less. I may have to resort to telling them the truth.’
‘The truth?’ I said. ‘Are you crazy? Guess what? If you tell them the truth they’ll think you are crazy and you’ll end up in some mental institution getting all sorts of tests. They’ll think you said all this stuff because you were abused or something.’
‘A mental institution, that might be interesting. I’ve never been to one before. It could provide me with many valuable insights into the human condition.’
Sometimes I could’ve shaken Rion. ‘And what about me?’ I said. ‘What’ll happen to me when you’re way more than a hundred metres away? Unless they decide to test me, too, and then my life will be totally over. Too bad about any plans I had to do anything with it.’
‘Yes, I do see that it could cause problems. Let me rethink,’ he said, and closed his eyes.
‘Haven’t you even thought of this before?’ Now I was worried and frustrated.
He opened his eyes again. ‘Certainly. I’d thought that in a couple of years, which as I said was the timeframe I was working on, when you were eighteen we could get married. That would solve the problem of being apart and also be a socially acceptable conclusion. I could say that my uncle had died in a foreign country and left me some money. I’m reasonably sure I could get employment of some kind, perhaps at a university where you could also study.’
‘Married? Are you serious? I don’t want to marry you, Rion.’ I looked at him in horror.
‘Oh, don’t go over the top,’ he said.
Sometimes Rion used figures of speech that didn’t always gel with the situation. But in this case, it was spot on. I was more than “over the top”—I felt like I was about to explode.
‘It would only be a marriage on paper,’ he said. ‘It would just mean that we could be together until my people worked something out. I wouldn’t expect anything from you. It would be just like we are now, really.’
‘Oh. My. God. I don’t believe you.’ I tried to calm myself for a moment. This situation was too serious for us to have a fight. Sometimes Rion was clueless, despite the fact that he was so book smart. I tried again.
‘Listen, Rion, just forget the whole marriage thing. Even at eighteen I’d be way too young. Mum and Dad would freak out.’ Not to mention me. Marriage to an alien, even a good-looking one, was so not on my bucket list, but I was learning to be diplomatic. Rion could be touchy about the weirdest things. ‘Besides which, you were never going to last that long here. We need to come up with a plan, like yesterday. Think of it like this. The Fonz has lost his Thursday comb, his motorbike has broken down and he has a date in ten, no five minutes. Get the urgency?’ I was frantically trying to come up with a scenario he would understand from Happy Days, his favourite TV program.
‘Well, the Fonz still has a comb for every other day of the week, and while he would be upset about his bike it wouldn’t really affect his date. With his popularity, she would probably come and pick him up.’
I shook my head. ‘What do you see in that show?’
He shrugged. ‘It tells me about the interactions of teenagers, which is very helpful at the moment.’
‘Yeah, like about sixty years ago.’ I searched my brain again for a better analogy. ‘Okay, Captain Janeway is on the Borg cube and the teleporter on Voyager is broken down. The Borg queen is onto her and she has to get away fast or risk assimilation.’
‘That bad, eh?’ He thought for a moment. ‘You’re right, we do need a plan, but try not to worry, Zoe. I’ll come up with something, just leave it with me.’
Somehow those words didn’t fill me with confidence. I left him thinking and looking out the window.
I went back to my room and flopped on the bed. For the first time in a long while I found myself so wishing that I hadn’t gone running on that beach in July.
Chapter Twenty-one
Worrying about my birthday surprise had now taken a very distant second place to worrying about the Rion problem. He wouldn’t talk about it with me except to say he was ‘working on it’. I was beginning to think he still didn’t get the urgency at all, so I came up with some ideas of my own. Or at least I tried to.
Maybe we could say his uncle had come back and then we could persuade someone to impersonate him. But who? No one sprang to mind.
Maybe we could say that the uncle had died and Rion’s mum said he could live with us. Again, there was no one to play the parts for us.
I was getting desperate.
Finally it was Saturday, the day before my birthday, and Mum and Dad were acting very mysterious and a little excited. Jeez, I hoped they weren’t planning something really dumb like a surprise birthday party. I couldn’t see any sign of preparations, but Mum was sneaky about stuff like that. Probably came from being a primary school teacher and planning stuff for all those unsuspecting little kids she taught.
Rion always seemed to have his head in a book and would hardly talk to me. I so wished my best friend hadn’t moved away, or at least that Harry was talking to me normally again.
That night everyone wanted to go to bed early. Very strange.
‘Oh, look at the time, I think I’ll go to bed,’ Mum said, giving a fake yawn.
We were all watching Star Trek Voyager on Netflix. Dad and Rion (of course) loved science fiction, and usually so did I, but tonight I was too on edge, worrying not just about tomorrow but about what would happen to Rion. I glanced down at my phone. It was 9:45 pm. Oh yes, definitely time for bed—if you were eight years old.
‘Yes, I think I’ll turn in too,’ Dad said, ‘I’ve had a very big week.’ This was from a man who regularly went to bed at midnight.
Rion added his bit. ‘I’m also feeling tired. Must be all that studying I did this week.’ As if he didn’t do that every day.
‘You may as well get an early night too, Zoe,’ Mum said, flicking off the television.
‘Okay, what’s up, you guys?’ I looked at them with suspicion.
‘Nothing,’ Mum said, sounding totally unconvincing. She had not missed her calling as an actor.
‘This has to do with my birthday, doesn’t it?’
If I had to go to bed early it must mean I had to get up early. Nothing that sounded even remotely appealing went with that. What had they done, sign me up for a gym membership or something? Maybe a personal trainer was coming around first thing in the morning. Did I look that out of shape? Rion was always saying I wasn’t fit.
‘I hope this has nothing to do with early-morning exercise.’ I said. Then another thought occurred to me. ‘You haven’t bought me a bike or anything like that, have you? We aren’t going on some family ride in the park, are we? You do realise I’ll be sixteen tomorrow, don’t you, and no
t ten?’
‘Just go to bed, Zoe. You’ll find out in the morning,’ Dad said.
Mum had already gone upstairs and Rion was grinning at me stupidly. I decided I hated birthdays, especially ones that had surprises. But no one would tell me anything, so I went to bed and pretended to go to sleep. I was so not looking forward to tomorrow.
I was totally convinced that my family had gone nuts when my mum woke me up. It was completely dark outside.
‘Happy birthday, darling,’ she said.
I opened a sleepy eye. ‘What?’
She gave me another gentle shake. ‘Come on, time to get up and celebrate your special day.’
‘But it’s dark outside. What time is it?’ I looked at the illuminated clock next to my bed. ‘Mum, it’s three forty-five in the morning!’
‘I know, honey, but we have something really special planned for you and you need to get up now.’ She pulled the blankets off me, proving she wasn’t the nice, sweet person she pretended to be. ‘Rise and shine,’ she added in a fake happy voice.
‘Can’t it wait, like, four or five hours?’ I tried to pull the blankets back over me but failed because Mum had a good grip on them.
‘We’ll pick up coffee and hot chocolate on the way. Now get up and put on something warm. It’s a little chilly.’ She was clearly going to wait until I got out of bed. I’d never realised my mother liked to torture people. Hidden depths, much.
I struggled to a sitting position.
She held out a pair of jeans to me. ‘I’m giving you five minutes, tops, and then I’ll be back if you’re not downstairs.’ She blew me a kiss and left.
I’m not a morning person. Yes, I can function after seven am on a school morning in that I get up, grab cereal and coffee, and get myself to the school bus. But being awake in the morning is not my natural state. I hate getting up early. This, however, was not early. This was the middle of the night. I was too tired to even imagine the horrible plans they had for me. Best to get it over with.
