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“No one’s coming?” you sighed. “Not even one grumpy Alternian?”
Your co-worker ignored you. She wasn’t much of a talker – but it was rude how often she tried to actively ignore you. It didn’t feel very nice talking to a brick wall. You expected your Saturdays to be filled with more vigor. Excitement, play and fun – wasn’t this all the things you expected when you signed up to be a skate instructor? Your town had made a free local ice-skating program for Alternians. They could sign up and register for classes. But your usual students weren’t feeling so good. They all had too much fun at the retirement home yesterday and wanted to take some time for themselves. (Old trolls are strangely energetic for their lifespans)
“Maybe some trolls kids will show up,” you talked to yourself. But no one replied. It would be nice hanging out with some kids instead of seniors as a change of pace. But that would be impossible – most of the young resided on the home planet. You’ve never met an Alternian younger than your 60-year-old father.
The mall was oddly empty today. The shops were open, but they were all deserted. All the employees who worked here seemed oddly tired. The cool winter atmosphere and the dim cloudy afternoon would lull anyone to sleep. But despite that, your body seemed eager to move and prance. A nice playful go at skating might curb your enthusiasm for the mean time.
You went to the back of the rooms and observed the skating shoes from the shoe rack – much to the ambivalence of your co-worker. The shoes were crafted in extraordinary colors – red, green, blue, purple. You’ve never seen such a diverse ornament of colors. Your manager thought being color coordinated like this would give extra diplomacy points for cultural sensitivity, but from what you know colour didn’t seem as rigid of a social construct here like on Alternia.
You reached for a pair of those skating shoes-
“間違ったよ。ここはスケート授業がないよ。だからアドをはっきり見るべきだった!”
”間違わなかった！おい、あの人間に聞いてよ。場所が知るかも。“
“Claire!” your co-worker shouted. “Uhm.”
Right. Alternians.
You hastily grabbed a pair of green shoes and went to the front of the rink.
Your friend was trying really hard to calm the trolls down, but they seemed rather insistent on communicating exclusively in Alternian. The most prominent thing about them was their youth. They didn’t look like adults, maybe barely surpassing the age of maturation but nothing beyond a few sweeps. You’ve never seen trolls your age before.
It’s hard to describe their rather……….strange fashion sense. They wore exclusively in black. The three of them seemed like they had sprung from the 70s era of punk populism. Their sharp and pointy jewelry and accessories seemed more like weapons than cosmetic items. The clothes contrasted against their pale grey skin – dry and almost seemingly reptilian in nature. Their eyes observed you from the distance they were at. Not from a place of condescension but pure curiosity.
These were certainly aliens, weren’t they?
One of the brownbloods barked. She thought the awkward silence was awkward enough as it is. She looked nervous, gripping at the leaflet for your ice skating lessons. Her sweater dress was remarkably thick and short, looking simultaneously too hot and too cold to wear. She stood out at the only girl among them. She was trying to muster the courage to say something to you, but it seemed futile.
Her rust blooded friend pushed her gently from behind, giving her encouragement.
“Uh, Claire. I’ll be at the back, okay?” you co-worker murmured. She had a feeling she wasn’t going to be part of the conversation much. She slowly back away and escaped through the back door, leaving you to converse with three curious aliens alone.
”英語使って,” the troll boy murmured. Obviously, their current problem was a language barrier. Nothing was going to get solved if everyone wasn’t going to try and communicate. He nudged his friend to say something useful.
“<Ice… rink. Lesson…..here?>” The girl troll muttered. Her English was rather fragmented. But the point she was trying to convey seemed relatively easy to grasp. They wanted ice lessons.
“I can...speak Alternian, you know,” you mumbled. “It’s okay, I can-”
“You speak Alternian?!” the troll girl asked, tilting her head. Her other friends seemed impressed by your fluency. “Is this where the ice-skating lessons are?”
“Yeah. I’m the skating instructor.”
“Wow,” she said. “Your Alternian is really good. Sorry, I thought-“
“It’s okay,” you laughed. “I know.”
You extended a hand to shake hers. Her palms are oddly cold and scratchy. The sensation of your skin against hers was harsh. She shook it apprehensively, not very used to human physical contact. Handshakes were such a weird diplomatic thing to do. The troll girl could practically feel how fragile your human bones were.
“I was just expecting a troll ….you know?” she said. A good teacher should at least be able to talk to their students. Not a lot of humans could actually speak Alternian. Her entire experience on Earth was plagued with language barriers. “How do you know common?”
My dad’s an Alternian colonialist. But you don’t actually say that because that would be insane. “Language lessons,” you sheepishly answered. Which was true.
The troll girl smiled. You had a feeling something bad was about to happen.
She pulled her friend to her side, introducing him to you.
His eyes averted yours, and you could tell he wasn’t that kin with courtesy. He had soft eyes that hesitated to give eye contact. His irises darted back and forth between you and the floor as he tried to stammer a response. His friend in the shades nudged him to say something quick. The grungy fashion statement certainly contrasted his shy demeanor.
Humans and trolls didn’t always have the best friendships, considering the bloody interstellar war that happened two decades ago. You hardly remember anything about it- you were just 2 years old after all. But Alternia suffered more gruesome casualties than humans ever did in that war.
“Hi,” you said, smiling. Someone should start the conversation. “My name’s Joey. What’s yours?”
“Xefros,” he murmured softly. “These are my friends Chixie and Dammek-“
“You want to learn how to skate?”
He opened his mouth to answer, but his troll friends interrupted him. Unlike him, they were rather eager to converse with you.
“He’s a crazy good athlete,” the troll girl interjected. “The only problem is-“
“My moirail can’t skate if his life depended on it,” the other one scoffed.
“We tried teaching him but it’s impossible.“
“He has the grace of a barkbeast.”
“A cripple managed to do better than him.”
“He got his pants soaked from falling on the ice too many times!”
They continued to laugh at him. Xefros merely blushed in embarassment.
You wondered which Alternian colony they were from? Maybe from the newer ones since trolls from the older colonies had a better grasp at English. But those colonies were filled with highbloods, granted class and privilege that exceeded normal castes. They had time, money and privilege to study language. It’s not like they were any better than trolls who didn’t.
“So, you’re an athlete?” you asked.
“Not really,” he murmured. “Stickball’s just something I do for fun.”
“Yeah that’s- Actually, this is the first time I’ve heard of Stickball...?”
“It’s a dangerous sport,” he told you. It paled nothing in comparison to the concussions athletes would get during football. People actively died in the sport or at least in the traditional rules. Modern versions prohibited death. But injuries were still rather frequent. “But we don’t really glide on ice or anything.”
“Hrm,” you said shaking your head. “No experience, then. I’ll teach you the basics, okay?”
“Dammek and Chixie’s hockey team needs me. I already know how to play-”
“He’s ridiculous good,” Dammek interjected. Xefros could carry en entire team with his agility, speed and strength alone.
“-B-but I can’t skate,” Xefros sheepishly admitted. He’s only ever played field hockey before. Ice was an entirely different arena already.
“It’ll take a few weeks for you to learn how to do hockey on ice. Do you want to register for weekly classes?”
“Is it free?”
“Yes,” you grinned. Subsidized by the American government. Or in this particular case, your local county budget. “I’ll get you the paperwork alright?”
–
You could hear bellowing laughter from Chixie and Dammek outside of the rink. They were having fun looking at the embarrassing spectacle ot Xefros not only falling twice but three times already. His eyes seemed determined not to fall again, eyebrows furrowed and wrinkled in concentration. He looked rather cute like this.
“Don’t fall,” he murmured to himself. His feet were jittering and you were sensing he was going to throw both of you off your feet.
“Relax! Take it slow!”
“S-s-slow! Got it…”
“Xefros! Don’t lean into me for support! I'm just keeping you balanced. You have to support yourself!”
“Sorry,” he said, adjusting himself.
He was grabbing both of your arms, adjusting his legs so that he could stand. He hadn’t even begun moving yet and he was already having difficulty balancing himself. Maybe he was scared of the ice? You’ve visited Alternia before, and the weather there was certainly more perilous than Earth's. They had acidic rain, poisonous flora and frequent earthquakes. You’ve never visited the Eastern countries in Alternia which had more snowy weather, but you can only imagine what sort of deadly icy atrocities lied there.
He kept wobbling himself, trying to stand up, but he still couldn’t do it. You had to stifle a giggle at his endeavours. They were rather endearing to watch.
“This is pathetic,” he moaned. “Sorry, give me a minute.”
You waited until he finally got the hang of it. He managed to stand still, balanced, without any harsh movements of desperately trying not to fall. He took a deep breath, looking at his feet. He was praying not for his own body to betray him. The cold sweat that run down his forehead was visible. Well, he was certainly standing now.
“That’s good, Xefros! Now, try to move.”
“M-move?”
“Yeah. Try to push your feet back and get that momentum going.”
“What?”
“Just try it.”
He shuffled his feet. Xefros kicked his legs backwards, propelling his upper body forward, but causing him to slip and fall to his side. You quickly held on to the railing as you stretched out your other hand for him to latch unto. Without your quick reflexes, you both might have stumbled and fallen on the ice.
“S-shoot,” he murmured. “Sorry!”
”見て！セッチャンめちゃ恥ずかしいよ~。はははは！“
”頑張って！“
Dammek and Chixie were shouting from the bench, cheering him on. Or at least you think they were. Something about… being embarrassed? Secchan? You propelled your body so Xefros could gain another solid footing on the ice. He face looked so flushed from the cold. Maybe some of the pink on his cheeks from apprehension, too.
In desperation, he tried to move again. But he nearly lost his balance again.
“どうやってそんなに何度も転んだ？”
”ダルマさんのように！” Chixie shouted.
”子供じゃないか？” He whispered under his breath. What the heck were they saying?
“You guys are….Eastern Alternian, huh?” you asked. You could sense his arms start to loosen his grip and his breathing stabilizing.
“Can you understand what they’re saying..?” You can see the red drain from his cheeks at the possibility that you were understanding everything they were saying.
“Mostly it’s just jibberish,” you admitted. “Are they making you nervous? If you’re not comfortable with your friends watching…”
“No, it’s ok. Let’s just focus on not falling.”