Chapter 9:
I got your message, Ursula 590 citizen
Just as I am showing Beth the picture of the reptilian tiger that became extinct about 100 years ago, I receive a message from Daniel.
Cute kid. Is she yours? - DanielS.
Beth is the neighbors’ kid. I babysit her from time to time. Almost every other day. - Tine.
She doesn’t have multicolored skin. - DanielS.
I grin at that. See? I did say I was a bad liar. Always getting caught. I pet Beth on the head, as she begins to pour “tea” from her toy teapot into the cups. Soon, we will go from there, to brushing each other’s hair.
Sorry. The picture I send you was from a birthday celebration. Those get wild around here. - Tine.
“Uncle Tine, tea,” Beth says, and I look up from my phone, to the cup she is holding out to me. I take it, and pretend to take a sip.
“Ah, waloria?” I try to guess.
“Yes,” she giggles at me. Waloria is a rare herb, and costly. That makes it Beth’s favorite.
“May I also get a chocolate cookie?” I ask, and nod towards the plate with the “cookies”.
Beth picks it up, and holds it out to me. I take a brown paper cutting, and dip it into my cup. My phone buzzes again, and I smile at Beth.
“Can I take that? It is my friend,” I say, and she puffs up her cheeks.
“See,” the little lady demands, and I obey. I send an invitation for a video chat to Daniel, and wait for him to accept. Beth scoots closer to me, and soon, the window of the chat expends. I have placed it on hologram mode, for more comfort.
“Hi!” Beth yells, as soon as the black screen of the hologram is replaced with Daniel’s face. I am happy that he didn’t send me a fake picture. He is the same as the person in the photo. Salt and pepper brown hair, caramel eyes, laugh lines under the eyes.
“Uhm, can you guys understand me?” Daniel asks, and I nod.
“There is a translator spell around Ursula 590. All the languages of the Cosmos are included,” I tell him. Yes, I have been writing in Ursulian all this time, and the spell has been translating for me.
“A spell? Magic is real?” He asks me, astonished.
“Magic and physics are connected. I can bore you with how the forces of nature can be harvested, but...” I begin, but he begins to shake his head.
“Bore me? Don’t you dare keep it from me!” He demands. Beth waves a finger at him.
“Manners,” the little girl says, and I chuckle at that. Her mother is a stickler for polite demeanor during a conversation. Something that Beth rarely follows through, but expects that others will live up to.
“Sorry, little lady,” Daniel says.
“Little acorn,” Beth rises her tail, and wiggles it. “See?”
Daniel blinks at that, and looks at me.
“Is that her name? Because of the tail’s color?” He asks me. I chuckle.
“No, her name is Beth. I just call her little acorn,” I tell him, and he nods.
“Well, I will call her that, too. If it is her preferred name,” Beth has been looking back and forth between us. I know the look on her face. She is getting bored. That is never a good sign.
“Show her a picture of an animal from Earth,” I say, trying to avoid the disaster.
“Oh, right away. Do I share the picture in the chat?” Daniel asks.
“That would be the best way,” I say, and he turns off the video call. Beth hums, and her tail begins to thump in excitement. Soon, there is a picture of a cat, a lovely orange tabby, with big yellow eyes, in my chat. I resume the video call, after Beth is finished looking at the cat.
“That is my cat. Andrew,” Daniel says, and then picks up the cat from the floor, and holds it near the camera. “Andrew, meow.”
And the cat does. Beth’s eyes are so wide, that I fear that they will pop out of her sockets. She opens her mouth, and a single:
“Meow,” escapes her. The cat meows again, Beth mirrors him. This back and forth goes on for a while, until Beth looks at me, and says:
“Andrew can’t talk.”
“Well, no,” Daniel says, as he releases his cat to go and do his own business. “He is an animal. Animals can’t talk.”
“Illity can talk,” Beth protests, and holds up her plushy. Daniel looks at me with something akin to fear in his eyes.
“You, the Naga, I mean, exterminated animals that can talk?” He asks. I shake my head.
“No, they can’t really talk…” I try to tell him, but Beth swats my hip with her tail. It stings a little.
“Illity can talk!” She yells. Waving the plush toy in the air, she begins to prepare to throw a tantrum. I take her, stand up, and go and deposit her in her playpen. I point at the wall, the message clear.
“Illity can talk,” she says, the first tears clear to be seen in her eyes. It tugs at my heart, but she must know that she can’t be allowed to throw tantrums during other people’s conversations.
“Fifteen minutes,” I give my verdict, and she sniffs. “When Beth is the little acorn again, and not the little rose torn, I will bring her out of the playpen.”
She turns her back to me, and it hurts a little. This is not the first time when she has been angry at me. But she always forgives me. She will forgive me again. I go back to the phone, and sit by it.
“Sorry. She is usually sunshine to be around,” I tell Daniel, who nods.
“So, your people didn’t exterminate intelligent beings?” Daniel asks. I become thoughtful at that. Is talking the only way to measure intelligence? What of all the animals that can draw? The unicorns of Pegasus, the elephants and rhinos and, heck, even horses, of Earth?
“We did. They simply couldn’t talk to express their outrage,” I tell him. A silence stretches between us, as I think about all that I thought of as normal before.
Something tells me that today’s memories will bring me the yellow potion again, instead of the orange one, I was hoping for. Still, I can’t help but think, that I will cherish the potion I will get from today, no matter the color. These days, I am full of questions.
It is a new state of being, and I know to appreciate it.
Chapter 9:
I got your message, Ursula 590 citizen
Just as I am showing Beth the picture of the reptilian tiger that became extinct about 100 years ago, I receive a message from Daniel.
Cute kid. Is she yours? - DanielS.
Beth is the neighbors’ kid. I babysit her from time to time. Almost every other day. - Tine.
She doesn’t have multicolored skin. - DanielS.
I grin at that. See? I did say I was a bad liar. Always getting caught. I pet Beth on the head, as she begins to pour “tea” from her toy teapot into the cups. Soon, we will go from there, to brushing each other’s hair.
Sorry. The picture I send you was from a birthday celebration. Those get wild around here. - Tine.
“Uncle Tine, tea,” Beth says, and I look up from my phone, to the cup she is holding out to me. I take it, and pretend to take a sip.
“Ah, waloria?” I try to guess.
“Yes,” she giggles at me. Waloria is a rare herb, and costly. That makes it Beth’s favorite.
“May I also get a chocolate cookie?” I ask, and nod towards the plate with the “cookies”.
Beth picks it up, and holds it out to me. I take a brown paper cutting, and dip it into my cup. My phone buzzes again, and I smile at Beth.
“Can I take that? It is my friend,” I say, and she puffs up her cheeks.
“See,” the little lady demands, and I obey. I send an invitation for a video chat to Daniel, and wait for him to accept. Beth scoots closer to me, and soon, the window of the chat expends. I have placed it on hologram mode, for more comfort.
“Hi!” Beth yells, as soon as the black screen of the hologram is replaced with Daniel’s face. I am happy that he didn’t send me a fake picture. He is the same as the person in the photo. Salt and pepper brown hair, caramel eyes, laugh lines under the eyes.
“Uhm, can you guys understand me?” Daniel asks, and I nod.
“There is a translator spell around Ursula 590. All the languages of the Cosmos are included,” I tell him. Yes, I have been writing in Ursulian all this time, and the spell has been translating for me.
“A spell? Magic is real?” He asks me, astonished.
“Magic and physics are connected. I can bore you with how the forces of nature can be harvested, but...” I begin, but he begins to shake his head.
“Bore me? Don’t you dare keep it from me!” He demands. Beth waves a finger at him.
“Manners,” the little girl says, and I chuckle at that. Her mother is a stickler for polite demeanor during a conversation. Something that Beth rarely follows through, but expects that others will live up to.
“Sorry, little lady,” Daniel says.
“Little acorn,” Beth rises her tail, and wiggles it. “See?”
Daniel blinks at that, and looks at me.
“Is that her name? Because of the tail’s color?” He asks me. I chuckle.
“No, her name is Beth. I just call her little acorn,” I tell him, and he nods.
“Well, I will call her that, too. If it is her preferred name,” Beth has been looking back and forth between us. I know the look on her face. She is getting bored. That is never a good sign.
“Show her a picture of an animal from Earth,” I say, trying to avoid the disaster.
“Oh, right away. Do I share the picture in the chat?” Daniel asks.
“That would be the best way,” I say, and he turns off the video call. Beth hums, and her tail begins to thump in excitement. Soon, there is a picture of a cat, a lovely orange tabby, with big yellow eyes, in my chat. I resume the video call, after Beth is finished looking at the cat.
“That is my cat. Andrew,” Daniel says, and then picks up the cat from the floor, and holds it near the camera. “Andrew, meow.”
And the cat does. Beth’s eyes are so wide, that I fear that they will pop out of her sockets. She opens her mouth, and a single:
“Meow,” escapes her. The cat meows again, Beth mirrors him. This back and forth goes on for a while, until Beth looks at me, and says:
“Andrew can’t talk.”
“Well, no,” Daniel says, as he releases his cat to go and do his own business. “He is an animal. Animals can’t talk.”
“Illity can talk,” Beth protests, and holds up her plushy. Daniel looks at me with something akin to fear in his eyes.
“You, the Naga, I mean, exterminated animals that can talk?” He asks. I shake my head.
“No, they can’t really talk…” I try to tell him, but Beth swats my hip with her tail. It stings a little.
“Illity can talk!” She yells. Waving the plush toy in the air, she begins to prepare to throw a tantrum. I take her, stand up, and go and deposit her in her playpen. I point at the wall, the message clear.
“Illity can talk,” she says, the first tears clear to be seen in her eyes. It tugs at my heart, but she must know that she can’t be allowed to throw tantrums during other people’s conversations.
“Fifteen minutes,” I give my verdict, and she sniffs. “When Beth is the little acorn again, and not the little rose torn, I will bring her out of the playpen.”
She turns her back to me, and it hurts a little. This is not the first time when she has been angry at me. But she always forgives me. She will forgive me again. I go back to the phone, and sit by it.
“Sorry. She is usually sunshine to be around,” I tell Daniel, who nods.
“So, your people didn’t exterminate intelligent beings?” Daniel asks. I become thoughtful at that. Is talking the only way to measure intelligence? What of all the animals that can draw? The unicorns of Pegasus, the elephants and rhinos and, heck, even horses, of Earth?
“We did. They simply couldn’t talk to express their outrage,” I tell him. A silence stretches between us, as I think about all that I thought of as normal before.
Something tells me that today’s memories will bring me the yellow potion again, instead of the orange one, I was hoping for. Still, I can’t help but think, that I will cherish the potion I will get from today, no matter the color. These days, I am full of questions.
It is a new state of being, and I know to appreciate it.
