Cherry Blossoms on Oaken Street

If I could only travel over there and be one with you.

The Wave (I)

Humans are the worst travel companions. Travel is supposed to be a pleasure. Yes, there are sometimes trips for work, for grievous matters, the kind you cannot really avoid. However, breathing a different kind of air even from the city down the road is refreshing. But humans... All that anxiety from being unable to shut the hell up for just one second makes them incapable of simply letting go and enjoying and not being. Oof, they always have to be all the time. They have to be the kind companion, the good parent, the understanding shoulder, the pious believer, the role model, the recipient of patting. Unless they got some liquor. You can tell a human stops pondering existence the moment they have a drink. I am actually kind of wasted while I tell this story. So, if you ever ever come across a human being while, say, you want to feel the warm sands of Debusi beach on Acaparat 5 and smile, say nothing, just nod to whatever they utter and ask them if they are in the mood for a drink.

It was 30.986235 of the Galactic calendar when the ship finally came out of wormhole H60F1nn. Nef and Jo were tired of all the rumbling from the jump. The stupid gravitational wave generator of the wormhole had not been mantained in quite a while, and you could tell. Unless you were a Glazconian, there was a huge chance you end up as nauseated as a flea would after a spin in a dry washer. The ship was on autopilot, so the whole crew decided, why not, to have a go at the bottle of vodka they got at their last stop. It had been a hard mission, and everyone knew Jo would go all existential on their ass. Before he could say anything regarding the last Kierkegaard book he had read and how anxiety did not help but causing more anxiety, especially in this huge, endless universe, someone had already opened the bottle and everyone had a drink and said, Blisk. Blisk was how you said cheers in Glazconian, which was the language of a race who discovered fermented alcohol as means of entertainment before even the most basic of the languages based on grunts came out of their lips.

Jo was sitting by himself at the end of the bar. He was looking at the empty glass in his hand. While he was on Earth, he had the dirtiest, nastiest habit a person could have while holding a bottle of beer: he peeled off the label, leaving crumbs of their boredom or angst as if a hideous Hansel had sat there a minute ago. Nef was reminded once again of how glad she was the Galaxy government had forbidden any single type of paper, plastic or plasma sticker on any kind of bottle cause, why would you do that when glass engraving was so craftingly done you could read the whole Illyad off a bottle of champagne? Without turning around and looking at him through the mirror every bar in the known universe had to have -admit it, only jackass establishments don't have a mirror right behind their bar- Nef asked Jo if he was alright. -You know, I just wanna go home... I feel so stretched out, like if I had been living too many lives instead of one... I, I... I 'm not even sure what I wanna do when I get home, you see? It's just tiredness like when... The Captain, Markees Ellon, ran as fast as it could to Jo and filled his glass. -Drink, boit, drink, cause we are going home and we can have a quiet time relaxing before the next job! Markees wobbled back to the rest of the crew not before hugging Jo and saying Blisk to both him and Nef.

-You know, Jo, we oughta go home, at least for a month. And I don't mean... Like actual home. -We are on our way, so stop pestering me..., said he, smiling. He knew what she meant, and she knew he knew. Of course both did! The kind of bond they had developed these last 5 years while traversing space, being the only 2 of their species they ran into, made them comprehend and care for and read and even love each other like they never could had they stayed on Earth. All those years Nef had grown to love and desire Jo before they left Earth were like child's play compared to what she felt then. She did not lust for him any longer. She had a deeper appreciation for his existence: she understood Jo was just a bunch of atoms put together by happenstance, and that such happenstance was limited, and that some time along the way it would end, and that it was her duty to enjoy that accident in the shape of a red-haired human for as long as possible. All this space travel did not make their lives longer, but by the advantages of the bending of the space-time continuum bending required to create and use wormholes, time to them seemed to go more slowly. Time appeared painfully slow at, well, times. Unless they were together. I mean, time was still slowly painful, yet enjoyable. And I don't mean enjoyable like a comedy film in the background while a dentist drills the shit out of you. It was more like the warm embrace of a good friend when you lose a loved being.

-We are arriving on Acaparat 4 in 5 hours if the next wormhole isn't as busy and as crappy as the last one. I just wanna shower and take a long actual nap, Nef, before we travel to Debusi on 5. Then, when we can forget about hussle work and house chores, then we can talk about going to Earth. Nef, nodded and said nothing. It had been 2 Earth years since Jo last said they would talk about going home. Actual home. They never did. However, Nef still believed him this time.