Human to Human by Rebecca Ore Page A

stared as if suddenly realizing how alien I was. I wondered what sort of noises would soothe him. His body stiffened, then he began sobbing. I didn’t realize they cried.
    Tracy and Karl stopped swimming and looked at us as I picked Daiur up and waded to shore. I remembered sitting here myself, so terribly lonely, under this tree. I had been almost afraid of the pie-sized leaves with vegetable muscles that rolled the leaves into tubes when the wind blew. I thought about blowing on one to show Daiur, but such alien leaves might be too much.
    He sat down beside me, his body posture reflecting mine, staring at the leaves, then at me.
    “Do those leaves bite?” he asked. As I began to worry about him, I heard the high pitched thrum in his throat.
    “No, Daiur.”
    “You were looking at them funny. Do they roll up in the wind?”
    “Yes.”
    He said, “We have trees like that.” From home, I thought. Somewhere on the Sharwani planet is a place with not much sun, lots of wind, and high humidity.
    “Daiur?” Karl called.
    “I’m tired,” Daiur said.
    Tracy said, “I’m tired, too.” She swam up to waist level, put her feet down, and began wading out.
    Karl said, “Well, I’m not tired. We’re not going home soon, are we, Dad? We just got here.”
    Daiur rolled up in a towel, lay down with his head against my leg, fingered the coarse hair on it, and closed his eyes. He said, “I’m going to sleep.”
    Tracy found her comb and tried to keep the frizz from drying in. I asked her, “Why do the curls bother you?”
    “Mother doesn’t have them. Nobody here has them, not even Molly.” She looked at Daiur and said, “He’s got weird nipples. I’ve got weird hair. We’re better off with aliens.”
    I said, “If you were on Earth, you’d see lots of people with hair like yours. And some humans have four nipples, just like Daiur.”
    Daiur squeezed his eyes tighter shut. Tracy looked down at him and said, “Daiur is so impressed.”
     
    When we got back to the house, Karriaagzh and a Barcon medic had Chi’ursemisa’s wrist in a portable scanner. The Barcon didn’t even look up when Daiur hissed. Hurdai made soothing noises and caught Daiur up in his arms.
    Marianne asked, “Enjoy your swim?”
    “Sure,” Karl said, almost, but not quite, giving his mother a kiss.
    Tracy came in and sat down on the couch, her hair a black halo around her head. “Marianne, I need your iron.”
    “Sweetheart, you look beautiful that way, an Afro.”
    “If any of you teases me, I’ll bite,” Tracy said.
    I looked at Marianne; we both shrugged. Karriaagzh looked through the scanner and murmured in Barc. Chi’ursemisa squirmed in the examination chair, then asked “What will you do?”
    “Ream the blood vessels and regenerate the nerves,” the Barcon said. “We can do it at the same time as the language operations.”
    Karriaagzh moved up close to Chi’ursemisa, on the side with her free arm. She touched his face; he protruded his tongue slightly.
    “All right,” she said.
    Marianne said in English, “And we’re going to Boston. Karl, too. We’re getting leave time at home.”
    I asked in the same language, “Does he know enough English to enjoy it?”
    Karl looked at us and said, “I know going. I’m going.”
    Tracy said, “Me, too.” I thought about two seven-year-olds without a word more of English than “going” between them, both in Boston… Marianne said, “No, Tracy. You need to be with Yangchenla and your aunts more.”
    As Karriaagzh went over to the elevator and pushed the button, Hrif rose and padded to block Chi’ursemisa from the elevator, bouncing slightly as if calculating the jump necessary to stop her.
    “Why Boston?” I asked Marianne.
    Karriaagzh turned around and said in English, “ Because .”
    Marianne and Karriaagzh hadn’t arranged a little private vacation. I didn’t want contact—we had enough for genetic diversity; the degenerative effects of inbreeding are overrated.