In the wheelhouse
NOTE: This entry is set in the same world as this story, years later, but can stand alone.
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"Aasha!" "Aasha!" Jeffrey shouted as he ran.
“Eff-ee!” his best friend responded, running to meet him at their usual place near the Ojutof City market square.
Aasha was a young eledonk (in the language of humans), a quadruped xeno-mammal with equine body, long oval ears and a nasal appendage that could grow to 3 feet long, resembling a mix between creatures Jeffrey had only seen in pictures. As for Jeffrey Gale himself, he was a human boy about nine cycles old, an Earth species, but born on this world. Being of roughly equal intelligence, the two already had a firm friendship.
Aasha immediately saw the pain in the boy’s face. “Eff-ee?” she asked, adding with trunk gestures in her people’s language: What’s wrong?
“Let’s go to our special place,” Jeffrey said, gesturing with his hand while he spoke. “Please.”
The two went quietly up the hill path to Firstmill. The wheel still turned by the river, though the millworks inside weren’t used anymore. But because it was the first, the colony couldn’t bear to tear it down. This place was special to Jeffrey, as his father had told him of building it with Greatuncle George. He loved to go there, and within was a safe place to be alone and undisturbed.
Aasha liked joining him there inside the wheelhouse where all the rough circles turned endlessly on one another, a fascinating sight. Her clan had helped to build this place, and later others like it. George of the tall-people had taught hers so much, and she was of the first generation to fully benefit from all this new knowledge.
Jeffrey sat still for a few minutes, letting the rhythm of creaks and groans and water and simple mechanical motion that surrounded them soothe him. Aasha sat near and quietly waited, watching him. He then opened what they liked to call their Treasure Box, bringing out a thick book.
He flipped it open with his left hand, while gesturing with his right. “Remember how I told you of the world my folks came from?”
“Yeah,” she answered, signing: Far star world, like here, with hundreds of hundreds of tall-people, cities of very tall box-houses, wagons that fly. - She paused - “You go?” she asked aloud, worry in her tone.
“No,” was all Jeffrey could say as he squeezed his eyes shut to stop the tears, struggling to will himself not to cry.
Aasha looked down at the book in his lap, flipped a few pages to see more of the pictures. The cities and fast-wagons and wing-wagons and water-wagons fascinated her. There was one image of a creature like herself, but bigger and with round ears and longer nose and bad teeth - that amused her, yet made her wonder if there was a place for her in that world.
“My people’s ship,” Jeffrey said. “It died.”
Aasha paused, looking him in the eyes, trying to understand.
“It had a signal,” he explained. “It called across to my father’s star. Two weeks ago it stopped communicating. Greatuncle George said it’s systems all failed. It would die and fall out of the sky. We would never see any more of our people. He could never take us to his home.”
Aasha let this soak in, hoped he didn’t see her gladness that he wouldn’t be leaving her, as she knew he was hurting. “You here; your home.”
He didn’t seem to hear her. “When Greatuncle George told us, then he went to sleep and never woke up.” Aasha nodded, recalling the great Remembering for their shared hero just days before. “Dad said he felt this was his fault,” Jeffrey continued. “That Greatuncle said it was his mistake that brought him to this world and couldn’t take us back. Now he’s gone.”
Aasha wasn’t sure what to say. She thought Jeffrey liked it here, in this city, with this mill, and friends like her. Why was leaving so important?
Before she could gesture her thoughts, he said, “Today the ship fell. Did you see the streak of fire in the sky?” He pointed to the ceiling. “It was like a line drawn way up there. Mom said it was the ship burning up, and none of it is left. It’s all gone.”
Jeffrey wiped his eyes and continued. “But Dad didn’t say anything. He just stared at the sky. Then he looked at me and said ‘I’m sorry, son.’ Then he went to be with the Colony Council. But he looked so sad, and Mom looked so sad. And I don’t know what they’re gonna do.”
At last Aasha realized what was making her friend so upset. He hadn’t lost his world; this was his world. He was afraid of losing something closer, more important. She then thought of one thing she could do to help him - for a moment she wondered if it was right, but then a feeling told her it didn’t matter.
Before her courage could leave her, she quickly reached her trunk to Jeffrey’s face and covered his nose.
Startled, he jerked his head back. “What - Why did you do that?”
Now it was Aasha’s turn to fight the urge to cry - had she done wrong? Offended him? Quickly gesturing she simultaneously apologized and explained, she had seen the tall-people doing this, but for her people it was much more special, an honor. “We shared air,” she verbalized carefully, adding in trunk-talk: You are part of my clan now, Brother.
If she understood his people’s ways correctly, the tight hug while crying meant he was grateful.
- - -
This is my entry for LJ Idol, Season 8, Week 24, Topic: " In Your Wheelhouse."
- - -
"Aasha!" "Aasha!" Jeffrey shouted as he ran.
“Eff-ee!” his best friend responded, running to meet him at their usual place near the Ojutof City market square.
Aasha was a young eledonk (in the language of humans), a quadruped xeno-mammal with equine body, long oval ears and a nasal appendage that could grow to 3 feet long, resembling a mix between creatures Jeffrey had only seen in pictures. As for Jeffrey Gale himself, he was a human boy about nine cycles old, an Earth species, but born on this world. Being of roughly equal intelligence, the two already had a firm friendship.
Aasha immediately saw the pain in the boy’s face. “Eff-ee?” she asked, adding with trunk gestures in her people’s language: What’s wrong?
“Let’s go to our special place,” Jeffrey said, gesturing with his hand while he spoke. “Please.”
The two went quietly up the hill path to Firstmill. The wheel still turned by the river, though the millworks inside weren’t used anymore. But because it was the first, the colony couldn’t bear to tear it down. This place was special to Jeffrey, as his father had told him of building it with Greatuncle George. He loved to go there, and within was a safe place to be alone and undisturbed.
Aasha liked joining him there inside the wheelhouse where all the rough circles turned endlessly on one another, a fascinating sight. Her clan had helped to build this place, and later others like it. George of the tall-people had taught hers so much, and she was of the first generation to fully benefit from all this new knowledge.
Jeffrey sat still for a few minutes, letting the rhythm of creaks and groans and water and simple mechanical motion that surrounded them soothe him. Aasha sat near and quietly waited, watching him. He then opened what they liked to call their Treasure Box, bringing out a thick book.
He flipped it open with his left hand, while gesturing with his right. “Remember how I told you of the world my folks came from?”
“Yeah,” she answered, signing: Far star world, like here, with hundreds of hundreds of tall-people, cities of very tall box-houses, wagons that fly. - She paused - “You go?” she asked aloud, worry in her tone.
“No,” was all Jeffrey could say as he squeezed his eyes shut to stop the tears, struggling to will himself not to cry.
Aasha looked down at the book in his lap, flipped a few pages to see more of the pictures. The cities and fast-wagons and wing-wagons and water-wagons fascinated her. There was one image of a creature like herself, but bigger and with round ears and longer nose and bad teeth - that amused her, yet made her wonder if there was a place for her in that world.
“My people’s ship,” Jeffrey said. “It died.”
Aasha paused, looking him in the eyes, trying to understand.
“It had a signal,” he explained. “It called across to my father’s star. Two weeks ago it stopped communicating. Greatuncle George said it’s systems all failed. It would die and fall out of the sky. We would never see any more of our people. He could never take us to his home.”
Aasha let this soak in, hoped he didn’t see her gladness that he wouldn’t be leaving her, as she knew he was hurting. “You here; your home.”
He didn’t seem to hear her. “When Greatuncle George told us, then he went to sleep and never woke up.” Aasha nodded, recalling the great Remembering for their shared hero just days before. “Dad said he felt this was his fault,” Jeffrey continued. “That Greatuncle said it was his mistake that brought him to this world and couldn’t take us back. Now he’s gone.”
Aasha wasn’t sure what to say. She thought Jeffrey liked it here, in this city, with this mill, and friends like her. Why was leaving so important?
Before she could gesture her thoughts, he said, “Today the ship fell. Did you see the streak of fire in the sky?” He pointed to the ceiling. “It was like a line drawn way up there. Mom said it was the ship burning up, and none of it is left. It’s all gone.”
Jeffrey wiped his eyes and continued. “But Dad didn’t say anything. He just stared at the sky. Then he looked at me and said ‘I’m sorry, son.’ Then he went to be with the Colony Council. But he looked so sad, and Mom looked so sad. And I don’t know what they’re gonna do.”
At last Aasha realized what was making her friend so upset. He hadn’t lost his world; this was his world. He was afraid of losing something closer, more important. She then thought of one thing she could do to help him - for a moment she wondered if it was right, but then a feeling told her it didn’t matter.
Before her courage could leave her, she quickly reached her trunk to Jeffrey’s face and covered his nose.
Startled, he jerked his head back. “What - Why did you do that?”
Now it was Aasha’s turn to fight the urge to cry - had she done wrong? Offended him? Quickly gesturing she simultaneously apologized and explained, she had seen the tall-people doing this, but for her people it was much more special, an honor. “We shared air,” she verbalized carefully, adding in trunk-talk: You are part of my clan now, Brother.
If she understood his people’s ways correctly, the tight hug while crying meant he was grateful.
- - -
This is my entry for LJ Idol, Season 8, Week 24, Topic: " In Your Wheelhouse."