Chapter Text
I pulled my truck onto the beach about an hour before sundown. I probably had a ridiculous look on my face as I stepped out onto the shore, but who could blame me? I was staring at a giant stone eastern-looking goddess with a cozy beach house at its base. Without looking away from the statue, I extracted my phone from my jeans.
Phone → Contacts → Pearl ❤️ ❤️ ❤️
It rang once.
“Hello?”
Pearl sounded a little out of breath, and a little flustered. But then, when is she ever not a little flustered?
“Hey, I’m here. Sorry I’m early, I didn’t think I’d find the place so quick.” The stone goddess above continued to stare into the horizon.
“Not a problem! I’m just finishing up here.” I heard some sharp metal clangs in the background. Knowing Pearl, she was probably probably doing dishes, washing pots and pans.
“When you said this place was a temple, I thought you were being metaphorical.” I really did. I thought she meant she lived in a scenic cabin or a mansion or something. Not an eight-armed two-faced giant woman.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” she said over the noise, “I have to do some laundry, but that will only take a few minutes. Then we can embark for the evening!”
“Sounds great,” I chuckled. I couldn’t really help it. Pearl’s ‘phone voice’ is always an adorable performance. “See you when you get done.”
“I’ll be down shortly!” she sang back. Before she hung up I heard another voice in the background.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re on the phone and I can’t even get through your guard?! I thought I was getting good!”
Whoever they were, they sounded exasperated, but were laughing all the same. It seemed like Pearl might be a while yet, so I popped open the tailgate and made myself comfortable.
After a few minutes of listening to some music on my phone, the door to the house opened, but it wasn’t Pearl who emerged. Instead, a small dark-skinned girl trotted out onto the porch and down the stairs. She was carrying a large duffle bag that looked overloaded with equipment. It didn’t seem to be too heavy for her though, because once she got down to the sand she was nearly skipping. This girl was beaming, and she must have been off in her own world, because she didn’t see me until she was almost halfway to my truck.
When she did, though, she squared up instantly. Her hands snapped to her sides, and her back shot up straight, but she seemed like she couldn’t really look me in the eye, choosing instead to wide-eye a seashell.
“I didn’t see you there! Um. Ma’am?”
It was hard, but I think I managed to smile without laughing.
“I’m here to pick up Pearl.”
“Oh!” the girl exclaimed in recognition. “You’re that ‘Mystery Girl’ Amethyst told me about!” I still love that name.
She strode over to me, duffle bag in one hand, the other outstretched.
“Connie Maheswaran,” she declared as we shook hands. I think she learned some of her people skills from Pearl. “I’m a friend of Steven’s. I’m actually out here waiting on him to finish up with some chores so we can hang out tonight. He says this place that serves aqua-mexican is re-opening, and he’s kind of excited.”
I made room on the tailgate for her to have a seat. “We can wait for our dates together then.” Even in the fading sun I could see her cheeks burn. Yup, definitely a student of Pearl.
“It’s not like...I mean...”
Then she stood in silence for a few seconds, gave up on any excuses, and just hopped onto the tailgate.
“So, Connie,” I inquired changing the subject for her, “You a friend of the family, then?”
“Yes ma’am, you could say that.”
“I have pink hair and a lip ring, there’s no need to call me ‘ma’am.’”
“Sorry...” She chewed her lip. “Force of habit.”
I smiled back, “No problem, I just feel old enough as it is.” After a moment of consideration, I asked. “So Amethyst told you about me, which one is she again?”
“Um...” the girl pondered, “She said she saw you at the concert where you met Pearl?”
“Oh yeah! She was wearing this sick purple body paint. I wish I could get that into every little gig I went to.”
Connie squinted at me. “How...how much has Pearl told you about the Ge...uh...her family?”
“Some,” I said, thinking back, “but she’s really into metaphors and poetry, so I don’t know what to believe sometimes. This isn’t like a cult or something is it?”
Connie laughed at my question, but it was good-natured. “No, nothing like that.”
“So the gemstone names? And the jewelry?”
“I,” she hesitated, “should probably let Pearl explain. But you’re right about one thing,”
I heard strange melodic chimes from up above, and I looked up to see Pearl and Steven up on one of the temple’s hands. On the palm was a washer and dryer, along with a clothesline stretched between its fingers. Pearl was carrying a hamper filled with clothes, and Steven, too, was riding in the basket. He hopped out onto the top of the washer, hugged Pearl around the neck, and then started helping her load the machine.
“They are a family,” Connie finished.
I stared at the two of them as they set about their task. Pearl gets a kind of satisfaction from things being cleaned, and Steven loves helping people. So the two of them working together is always delightful, even from afar.
Reaching down to load more jeans into the wash, it seemed Steven caught sight of us down on the beach. He jumped up and started waving his whole arm over his head in a big swooping arc. His smile was infectious, and I could tell Connie was particularly susceptible to it. Pearl noticed his excitement, and saw us too. She gave a small wave aswell, but I could see her warm, soft smile even from down below.
Waving back up, I turned my head a little to the side and asked Connie “How exactly did they get up there?”
When she didn’t answer for a moment, I turned to look at her. She waved her fingers dramatically and answered “Magic.” She giggled. It seems a smile from that Steven is all it takes to make this girl a little giddy.
“And why,” I squinted up at the platform above, “do they have a clothesline and a dryer?”
Connie’s smile turned to an expression of confusion. She looked up to the laundry palm. “I actually have no idea.”
The two of us looked at each other, and then shared a laugh. As we did, I felt a buzz in my pocket, so I checked my phone.
1 Message - Pearl ❤️ ❤️ ❤️
Smirking, I opened the text. Hopefully it’s not formatted like a telegram this time.
“Sorry for the wait! I should have done this earlier today, but I had to deal with a monster scattering relics all over the Atlantic this afternoon.”
That’s certainly one way to describe parenting.
“no worries” I replied, looking up at her, silhouetted in the late day sky.
“just admiring the view ;) ”
I watched her check her phone, and spend an adorable amount of time composing a response.
“Yes, the Temple is rather beautiful this time of day.”
Oh, Pearl.
“im talking about you” I sent back.
Upon receiving that, she stopped working for a moment. When she got Steven to read her phone I couldn’t help but crack a smile. The boy seemed to be explaining something to her, then turned and smiled at me. Pearl just clutched her phone and looked embarrassed but was beaming all the same. She gave me another little wave, then sent me a final text before returning to her work.
“Thank You”
Deep breaths of sea air. I could get used to this. Connie was typing away at her phone beside me. I stole a glance at her screen. I didn’t see the messages, but I did see who they were for.
⭐ Steven Q. Universe ⭐
Connie didn’t look up from her phone, but she did relay a message. “Steven wants to know,” she asked, “if you like Pearl.”
“Hrmmm...” I exaggerated. The girl giggled at that. I took my time with the answer though. Steven was not being as helpful as he had been earlier. He held his phone, no doubt eagerly awaiting a reply.
“Yeah,” I said, finally.
“Hmhmm,” Connie chuckled as she sent my reply.
After a moment she spoke up again. “He wants to know if you ‘like-like’ her.”
“Preeetty sure.” Pearl unfurled a beach towel with a dancer’s flourish. How can she make everything she does look so elegant?
Connie’s phone buzzed again. “Steven is very adamant that I explain to you what he means by ‘like-like.’”
I just looked at her. To defend herself, she showed me her phone.
⭐ Steven Q. Universe ⭐
“...bc u know pearl realy cares a lot and i kno she probly likes pearl but does she like-like her like a lot bc i think pearl really might like her and i want pearl to be happy not that thers lots of resons not to like perl just that i kno somtimes ppl want different things so make sure she knows that pearl really cares and i care too and i want them both to be happy...”
It went on like this.
“Tell him I want Pearl to be happy too.”
She transmitted my message, and that seemed to satisfy the boy. Connie showed me the response.
⭐ Steven Q. Universe ⭐
:D
“Thanks,” she said, “and sorry, he can get a little...involved.”
“Not a problem,” I smiled. “A boy is allowed to be protective of his mother.”
Connie’s expression was strange at this remark. “She’s...Pearl’s not Steven’s...biological mother.”
“Oh I figured.” Body types don’t get much more different. I mean, the chubby bundle of grins looked more like he could be my kid than Pearl’s. “But that doesn’t mean she’s not a mom to him.”
“That’s true,” Connie smiled.
I leaned back and watched the mama bird work. Apparently Steven’s shirt had stains, so Pearl picked him out a clean one. The boy managed to get his t-shirt off over his poofy hair, and hopped up on the dryer to receive his new clean clothes. It was then I noticed his stomach. A pink jewel nested in his navel. A gemstone, like the rest of his strange, wonderful family. When Pearl turned to give him his shirt, he lifted his arms over his head. With a flick of the wrist, Pearl pulled his shirt on, then kissed his head, and went back to sorting clothes into piles. (Star t-shirts, blue jeans, whites. I didn’t see anyone else’s clothes in the mix.)
“Ok, so question...” I said, looking back to Connie.
“Hmm?” It seems she had been a little distracted.
“How long have you been a part of this...family?”
She thought about it, and actually seemed a little surprised at her own answer. “About two years now, actually”
“So you know what it’s like, to care about them, to be a part of it?” I said.
“Yeah.” She didn’t take her eyes off the duo above.
“Anything I need to know?”
The girl furrowed her brow low. I hadn't really meant much by the question, just trying to keep the conversation going, but this girl was determined to give me a proper answer it seemed. I'm glad she did, but it did take her a bit of thought.
She folded her hands together, with her pointer fingers outstretched. Resting her chin on her thumbs, she looked up at the pair above. Steven was helping Pearl fold a large pile of identical pink shirts, though it wasn't clear how much help the boy was actually being. Pearl was smiling, though. Just enjoying the time. I need to learn how to do that at some point.
Connie took a breath. “Three things,” she began her answer.
I raised my eyebrows, and I admit, I may have looked a little incredulous, but I let her continue.
“One: Get used to worrying.”
My attitude got the better of me for a bit.
“Hmm,” I said with a smirk, “I'm not really the 'worrier' type. Plus, this isn't exactly my first time around the block...”
It was Connie's turn to look incredulous.
“Well, Pearl has an...active...lifestyle.”
I smiled at that. “I trust Pearl to be able to take care of herself, and make her own calls. Any reason I shouldn't?”
Connie actually laughed at this. “Absolutely not. But that's not really what I mean...It's...You care about Pearl, right?”
I didn't respond, except to sit up a little bit.
“Well,” the girl continued, “Pearl cares too. A lot. She cares about the Earth, her family, me, and especially Steven.” The girl looked back up to the stone hand holding the two laughing figures. It seems there had been a slight mishap with the detergent.
“When you care about someone who cares back,” she continued, looking up at them, “it doesn't matter if they're indestructible. They can always get hurt. And the more people they care about...”
“The more ways there are for them to be hurt,” I finished. I leaned back on my hands, and began to actually study this girl Connie.
“I admit,” I spoke up, “most of my previous relationships have been with people who were a bit more...self-involved. But Pearl's not like that, is she?”
“Not really,” said Connie. “Not once you get to know her.”
I squinted up at the pair. Steven seemed to be having a much easier time folding his socks than he did his shirts. Pearl was measuring out a proper amount of detergent for wash this time. I could tell she was pursing her lips like she does when she's concentrating.
My skepticism was gone. “Okay,” I said, “get used to worry. What next?”
Connie recomposed herself, and continued.
“Two: You will never know the whole story.”
She paused for my interruption, but I had learned my lesson by this point, so I just let her keep going.
“Pearl has had a...complicated life. All of them have. And no matter how much they tell you, there will always be something they forgot, or didn’t know about, or couldn’t deal with. Some new thing from their past you had no idea about will come up, and now you have to deal with it. Together.”
Connie scratched the back of her head and gazed skyward for a moment. She rubbed her neck and shoulder as though they ached, then turned to me. “I think it gets easier. When you learn more stuff. But the surprises never stop completely.”
“Everybody’s got history,” I said, “you take the good with the bad.”
The girl nodded slowly, “Exactly.”
She kept rubbing her neck, then winced as she stretched her arm. “Ow.”
“You ok?”
She didn’t answer me at first, just testing the range of motion in her arm. When she lifted it high, though, she gasped. “OW, ow. Um, yeah, yeah I’ll be fine.”
“Pull something? Probably from carrying that massive bag around.” The duffle bag full of Connie’s stuff sat on the sand in front of us.
“Yeah, maybe...” she dismissed, “Oh! Thanks for reminding me, though, I have something for this in the bag.”
I slid off the tailgate to pick it up.
“No-no-no, it’s ok!” she said quickly, trying not to move her arm, “I’ll get it-”
“Connie, it’s fine! Don’t hurt yourself even more-” My admonishment was cut off by me trying to lift the satchel of deadweight that is Connie’s duffel bag.
“OOF! Ok, I know I’m not in the best shape, but this thing must be fifty pounds!” The tailgate sagged as I dropped the duffle onto it. “How were you even carrying this thing?!”
“I just...got used to it.” she said, wincing. “Grah, Stevonnie, why do you have to go 110% every time?” she said to herself.
“What do you need all this for?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“...tennis practice?”
I just gave her a side-eye.
“Can you just get me a water bottle?” she said, a little annoyed, then she looked a bit sheepish, “...please?”
I unzipped the bag. “One water bottle coming right up. Just as soon as I find it...”
I thought I was bad back when I used a tote for a purse. This girl had a lost civilization in here. First was the massive pink...instrument? I just set that to the side. Then we had a full change of clothes, some kind of purple outfit, full winter outerwear (all neatly folded) and some emergency pads (smart). Underneath the clothes there was a first aid kid, something called a second aid kit (?), a portable defibrillator (this was getting ridiculous), a handful of Protes™ bars, and a survival bag of camping gear. Stacked under that was a beat-up survival handbook (used), a very heavily bookmarked geology textbook (it looked college level), a fantasy book (something from the Sphereworld saga), and a sketchbook covered in beginner anime. In the side pockets there was a long-expired pink glow-bracelet, a crayon drawing of what looked like a girl and a bird getting married, a pair of glasses without lenses, and a picture of a teen, maybe an older sibling, posing in front of an old Dondai. Finally, I found a half-full water bottle at the bottom of the bag.
“Thanks,” she said, relieved, as I handed it to her.
“You sure you want this one? It looks like it’s half backwash...”
“Yeah, it’s perfect.” she said, taking a long draught. To her credit, she immediately began to move her arm in full circles. “Ahh, much better.”
I began to pack her bag back up. I hadn’t taken out too much, just the big stuff, so I don’t think I messed up her packing system. “Glad to hear it,” I said as I tried my hand at organization. “I’ve heard dehydration can cause cramps, so I guess that’s what it was? Seems like you had a really strenuous bout of-” As I grabbed the huge pink case, the blade slid out. It was a sword and sheath. Some kind of massive cutlass or saber or something. It was the size the girl’s entire body. “-tennis...”
Connie wasn’t really watching me, she was fidgeting with the pair of lensless glasses.
“Three:” she began, “It will change you. Forever.”
I sheathed the blade, and tucked it into the bag. I hadn’t seen them before, her scars. They were faint, but as the sun drifted off, the scratches and cuts shone a little paler.
“It doesn’t change you completely,” she continued, “even though sometimes it might feel like it. I think all the pieces were there, even when I just read books on the beach. But he...they just...re-arranged them.” She turned to me. “I don’t think it would change everything about you, but it will touch all of it. It did for me.” She tossed the glasses back into the bag. “And there’s no going back.”
“Do you regret it?” I couldn’t help but ask.
She looked me in the eye. “Not a single instant, ma’am.”
She got a chuckle out of me. Her parents must be proud of her strength. I know I am.
“Well thank you for your help, madam Connie.” I shook her hand.
“Happy to be of service!” She bowed.
We heard a metallic lid slam shut from high up, and then came the bellowing cry of an extremely excited boy.
“CONNIEEE!”
“I think he’s done,” the girl said to me.
“Have fun tonight,” I told her.
“You too! But maybe, ask Pearl about some of this stuff. I think she might have a lot to explain.”
“I get that impression, but I think I’m ready for-” My response was cut short by the sight of Steven running to the edge of the goddess’s hand, and leaping into the air.
I gasped, as he soared out over the beach, and drifted down the 80 feet to the ground. Connie was waiting for him when he landed, and the two embraced and spun into a column of light.
I just sat with my mouth half open as a tall, bounding teen flew past me. “Bye Mystery Girl! Good luck!”
I hardly even noticed as Pearl landed next to me, having made the 80 foot leap look like a simple dance step. “Ready to go?” she asked, so polite and airy.
“I think...I think maybe...we should talk for a bit.” I was still a bit stunned.
“Is...there a problem?” Pearl asked, with a careful tone.
“How different are we?”
Pearl paused at this. She took my hand and held it in both of hers. She studied it, like a foreign substance, but she held it like priceless art. Her hands felt strange I realized. No bones, just shapes.
“Very,” she finally said.
“Do you think that’s a problem?”
She looked up at me, half a tear welling up, and bit her lip. “I think it’s wonderful.”
We did indeed have a lot to talk about that evening. And Connie was right, on all counts, but specifically about never knowing the whole story. Things still come up from time to time, and I have a lot of questions. Pearl doesn’t always have answers, but she always listens. And she always tries. One thing I didn’t expect was how many questions Pearl would have for me . We’re still listening, and trying. I don’t know how things will end up, I just know I want to be a part of this crazy gem family right up until they do.