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The closer we get to Erid, the twitchier Rocky becomes. He’s always been restless, but now he’s taken to skittering around in his ball and chittering—starting to say something and then changing his mind.
Finally, after nearly a week and a half of Rocky fumbling his sentences, I flop down on top of his enclosure to keep him from rolling away and dangle my face upside down in front of him.
“Rock,” I say. “What's going on, man? You’ve been jittery for weeks. Are you nervous?”
“Not nervous,” he answers, stomping his foot.
“Well then, what is it? You’re driving me insane.”
“You insane,” Rocky huffs. “You leak and tap-tap-tap and play with stupid ball. Can’t even catch it. Rocky not fucking like ball. Warning.”
I bang my head against his ball. “I regret ever teaching you those words.”
“Rocky very insistent,” he says smugly.
After weeks of arguing (and some pleading, though Rocky will deny it), he finally convinced me to teach him swear words, insisting that it was important to observe every aspect of Earth culture. He claimed that my tendency to say every word imaginable but a curse wouldn’t be helpful when teaching Eridian linguistics about English. We both knew he just wanted to ensure that I understood his colorful language when he scolded me. Which he did. A lot.
“Seriously, buddy, what's wrong?”
Rocky lets out a melodic sigh. “Rocky must tell Grace something.”
“Sure.” I slide off his ball and sit on the floor in front of him.
He scuttles back an inch to put more space between us. “Grace promise not be mad, question?”
I frown a little, a wrinkle tugging between my eyebrows. “Promise.”
“There are a few things Grave should know.” He shifts, pausing. “Food is disgusting,” he says abruptly.
“What?” Does he not like the flavor? But he’s been eating it for years with no complaint.
“Not taste,” Rocky explains. “Need word for not supposed to talk about something offensive.”
“Taboo?” I offer, still unsure of where he’s going with this.
“Yes!” Rocky does jazz hands and gives him a thumbs-down. “Eating is taboo. On Erid, we no eat in front of each other. Much disgusting. Bad. We no talk about it with each other either.”
“But you’ve been eating with me this entire time,” I say slowly.
Rocky wriggles his carapace. “Yes. As joke. Thought we would never see each other again. Thought we would die on way to Erid. Funny for me. But not proper culture.”
“So—So you've been, what—” I trail off, not completely sure what Rocky means.
“When you excrete out your bottom,” Rocky suggests helpfully. “That is human equivalent.”
Oh my God. “You’ve been pooping in front of me?” I shriek, aghast. “For years?”
“Yes,” Rocky chitters, seemingly unconcerned with this new revelation. “Grace promised no be mad.”
“I’m not mad,” I protest, sliding off his ball and to the floor. “Just… disgusted. Horrified.”
“Exactly,” Rocky agrees, pointing a claw at me. “That is how we Eridians feel about food.”
“God, Rock, I can’t believe you’ve been pooping in the same room as me,” I groan, covering my eyes with my arm. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”
“No be sick,” Rocky insists. “Bad. Yuck. Humans leak too much.”
“You leak too much,” I retort, overlooking the fact that Rocky doesn’t leak at all and knowing very well that I sound exactly like one of my students. But I’m a little too concerned about my alien friend’s idea of a joke to come up with a proper comeback.
Who on Earth decides to spend years pooping in public just because? (Rocky would argue that we’re not on Earth, to which I would throw up my hands and start a game of catch against his enclosure.)
Rocky doesn’t respond, which is suspicious. He never misses the opportunity to tease me.
I peer at him from underneath my arm. “Now what?”
“There is something else Rocky must tell,” he says, clicking his claws together.
“Aw, jeez.” My stomach drops, still not over the revelation that my best friend has been pooping in front of me! In my very line of sight! For years! “What is it this time?”
“Well…” Rocky draws out the note for a while. “Promise not be mad?”
I huff exasperatedly. “Oh gosh. Yes, Rocky.”
“Grace wears clothes.”
“I—yeah?” I glance down at my shirt. The one I’m wearing today has ‘NEVER TRUST ATOMS, THEY MAKE UP EVERYTHING’ emblazoned underneath a smiling atom.
“So do Eridians,” Rocky says.
“No, you don’t.” Never once have I seen my alien buddy wear clothes except for his party outfits that he reserves for special occasions.
Rocky scuttles in a circle. “Rocky was alone for long long time, yes? All alone, very very sad. Rocky stop caring about himself. Barely eat, barely sleep… no wear clothes. On Erid, we wear clothes like humans. Not wearing clothes is not proper culture.”
I stare at him. “You mean to tell me that not only have you been going to the bathroom in front of me, but you’ve also been naked in front of me?”
My voice reaches an extraordinarily high pitch.
Rocky raises a claw. “Yes. Exactly. Grace promised no be mad.”
“You haven’t been wearing a shirt! For four years! Oh, man, I knew that when you watched me sleep for the first time that you were too exposed!”
“We were alone,” Rocky argues defensively. “Grace never knew until now and never cared.”
“It’s the principle!” I moan. “Oh man, the first alien I meet and he walks around naked and pooping as a joke! God, your butt was six inches away from my face!”
“Other Eridians don’t do that,” Rocky promises.
“Fudging fudgsicles.” I flop back to the floor and close my eyes in exasperation. “You’re like a toddler.”
“Rude,” he says. “But Eridian scientists will probably not be happy I was one to make first contact. They will have to fix lots of culture mistakes.” He shakes his carapace in the Eridian version of a shrug. “We saved stars. They will get over it.”
I snort. “Humans wouldn’t be happy about me, either. The rest of us don’t eat so many sour Skittles.”
“Good,” Rocky chirps. “They no die early from sugar poisoning. Rocky take Grace’s Skittles.”
I gasp. “Don’t you dare. Don’t even think about it.”
—
The first few times I hear Adrian say my name, I’m too out of it to listen. After arriving on Erid, it finally hit me. The years of starvation, floating in space, the harsh gravity of Erid… I barely made it out of the space elevator before I crumpled in a heap and let out a dying “unghhhhh.” Not the greatest first impression. I weakly pressed my cheek against the cold ground and listened to Rocky and the other Eridians nearly crush me in their panic of trying to figure out what to do.
But now I’m feeling marginally better, propped up in the room that had hastily been built for me, trying to ignore the creaking of my bones and focusing instead on the excitement that I’m on an actual alien planet. An honest-to-God alien planet. I can’t wait to get out and explore.
There’s a soft hiss as the airlock opens, and Rocky and Adrian come scuttling in, both wrapped in their xenonite suits. I sit up a little straighter. I’ve met Adrian before, of course, but those times had been a little too filled with scientists and doctors shouting at each other and my own groans to make proper introductions.
It’s been a steady stream of visits from my team and Rocky since then, all of them checking to make sure I’m not about to die after surviving years of space travel. That would be a major bummer. And a little embarrassing too. Could you imagine my Wikipedia page? “Ryland Grace, after surviving years in space with nothing but an alien and a limited supply of disgusting alien food, died just after reaching the alien doctor’s office.”
But now I’m having my first good day in a while, and Rocky—my literal best friend—has brought his mate to meet me and if this doesn’t go well I’ll probably curl up in a ball and cry. Which I have, admittedly, been doing a lot since arriving at Erid.
“Grace okay?” Rocky asks. “Heartbeat is fast.”
I flush. Way to rat me out. “Course, Rock. Just nervous.”
“Don’t be nervous,” he responds immediately. “Adrian wonderful and nice.” His voice lilts proudly.
Adrian scuttles forward and extends an arm to tap me gently on the leg. “Hello.”
“Oh my gosh, hi,” I say excitedly, almost falling out of bed trying to shake her claw before awkwardly remembering that that’s a human custom. “I’m so happy to meet you. Rocky talked a lot about you.”
Adrian lets out a melodic rumble and tilts her carapace toward her mate. “I’m glad Rocky had someone to watch them sleep.”
Rocky darn near purrs.
“What were they like up there?” Adrian asks, stomping her foot twice.
Even without the foot stomp, I’ve gotten pretty good at recognizing subtle shifts in Eridian notes and can tell it’s a question, one that I’m all too pleased to answer.
“Well,” I begin, drawing out my answer with a mischievous smile. “He ate in front of me.”
“What?” Adrian shrieks and whips around to stare at Rocky, who sinks in his xenonite suit. Her voice is thick with horror that twists her notes.
“He told me it was beautiful and insisted on showing me,” I continue, grinning as Rocky lets out a betrayed huff.
“Rocky should not have been the one to meet you,” Adrian announces. “Absolutely not.”
“Hey!” The Eridian in question emits an affronted rumble.
Adrian shakes a claw. “We will teach you proper Eridian culture,” she promises. “No… food.”
“Also, he was naked the entire time,” I add on.
Adrian lets her claw drop to the ground with a thud. “Rocky!” She wheels around. “What wrong with you? You ♫♪♪♬𝄞!”
She says something I don’t understand but assume to be an insult. I’ll have to ask her about it later so I can learn.
“Many many apologies,” she says solemnly to me. “Rocky dumb and joking. None of that here. ♬𝄞♫♫♪♬ don’t have to worry.”
Rocky lets out a noise that sounds suspiciously like a wince.
I frown. Instead of my name, Adrian emitted a jumble of notes I haven't heard before. “Sorry, what did you just call me?”
Adrian repeats herself. “♬𝄞♫♫♪♬. Your name.”
Huh? I’d thought the brain fog had gone away, but maybe some still remained? “That’s not my name. ♪𝄞 is.”
Rocky inches back. Adrian goes still, and then very slowly turns to look at him.
“You named the star-saving alien ♪𝄞?!” she shrieks.
“It was funny!” Rocky protests. “Thought I would never see it again!”
“Wait a minute,” I say, struggling to catch up. “That’s not my name? Rocky, what have you been calling me?”
I’m exasperated but also not surprised; after spending four years with him, I’ve learned that Rocky has an… interesting sense of humor. Also, I knew my name wasn’t such a short and ugly note! It’s too good of a name for that!
“♪𝄞 not your name,” he says sheepishly.
“What does it mean?” I ask, leaning over the side of the bed. Maybe he just named me something obvious, like I did with him. Leaky blob, perhaps? Offensive, but true. Handsome thing? One can only hope.
His carapace heaves up and down with laughter. “You know the air that escapes from a human bottom?”
“Fart?” I wail. “You named me fart?”
Rocky chitters a laugh while Adrian sighs behind him.