Chapter Text
It’s after another long, hard day of science that we decide to take a break in the Don’t Go Crazy Room.
I’d shown Rocky a lot of different videos of earth and humans doing things, but no movies yet. It was clear to me that trying to watch a movie with Rocky stopping to ask what everything was every few seconds would not go quickly. So until then we were just building our vocabulary. It was good since he was a lot more interested in the scientific side of things.
We were slowly making our way through a set of documentaries centered around forests when I paused it. “Oop, sorry. Gotta go grab some water.”
Rocky is understandably displeased at the break in facts about woodpeckers. He’s quite fascinated by the concept of wood, since the closest thing they have on Erid is a form of malleable mineral that crystallizes in large flat shapes. Megaflora doesn’t exist on Erid like it does on Earth. “Only need water because leak so much, why evolution decide human must get rid of all water immediately?” He laments.
He doesn’t tap twice on the floor. I should not have taught him what a rhetorical question was, he uses them too much now.
I chuckle and pat the ball. “I hate to tell you this buddy, but water is kind of a huge facet in the human package. Earth is almost 71% covered in water. We basically eat, drink, and breathe it.” I know that he knows that water is how the human body handles 90% of its functions, he’s just being a brat.
“Rocky can tell. Would need big big big amount of water to sustain great amount of humans.” He remarks. He’s not wrong so I nod.
It only takes about two minutes for Armando to hand me a water patch so I can trundle my way back into the Don’t Go Crazy Room, by then Rocky is already stomping impatiently. He is so pushy for something that lives so long.
Now, I’m not oblivious to the fact that being in space for so long can make a person a little stir-crazy. The list of mundane earth things I’ve started longing for in the absence of them is easily a mile long and only getting longer by the day. It’s no surprise that I start to feel immense longing when the documentary ends on some scenic clips of birds bathing themselves in a birth bath.
“God, what I wouldn’t give to take a bath.” I groaned as I pull myself up to my feet. I know that logically the ship is sterile, and there’s nobody here but me. I shouldn’t feel so self conscious about how I look and smell, but the feeling of being gross after many days of not showering doesn’t go away in space. Sponge baths can only help so much.
“Room Question?” Rocky chirp-asks.
“What?” I turn back because I don’t even know what he’s questioning.
“Say take Bathroom. Need go, question?” Rocky asks.
What? I didn’t say that, I know because I always try to awkwardly scamper away when I do my business even though I know perfectly well that the walls might as well not exist.
Heck, he tried to tell me once that my “waste organ was fully inflated” after I’d been ignoring my bladder for an hour working on science. That was an interaction I try desperately to scrub from my mind every single time I think about it. Explaining to him that pointing out I needed to pee was rude and uncomfortable only worked once I used the “Human rule” law on him.
He proceeded to question why I didn’t go if I knew I needed to. So I have effectively decided to never try and hold it again while near him.
“No I don’t, why would you-?” It suddenly clicks in my mind what’s confused him. I slap my hand to my forehead. “Oh! I’ve never explained what a bath is, have I?”
To me, it was obvious what a bath was and the reason why I couldn’t have one. The Hail Mary was equipped with a lot of things, but all of the water supply was securely dedicated to drinking and life support only. Which means that my skin was always complaining about how grimy it felt until I scrubbed myself with wipes.
To Rocky I have only ever called the weird little box where I go waste a “bathroom” so he probably thinks that defecation is the same as a bath.
Which gives me the encouragement I need to rectify this misunderstanding immediately.
I take a breath before I phrase my next words. “Rocky, you know the room that I go into whenever I need to use the toilet?” Horrible. It’s like sex ed but worse.
“Yes. Grace says not to talk about.” He taps the side of the ball pointedly. Touche.
“Well, usually a bathroom has more than just a toilet in it. Bathrooms serve as the room that humans empty waste and clean themselves in. On earth, every home will also have a bathtub or a shower.” I explain. He clicks curiously, I’ve got his attention now.
It’s probably a novel concept to him. I know that Eridians have oceans, but what purpose does a rock creature whose inner flesh is never exposed to harsh environments have for being covered in water?
Not to mention that to rock-creatures that rely on hearing, large bodies of liquid are probably their worst nightmare.
From Rocky’s reactions to my constant drinking, I’ve begun to deduce that Eridians think of water as a solvent- a material used in science labs which they need trace amounts of to function. Sure bad things happen if they don’t get enough water, but that hardly happens since they get all their water from food. They’re far more likely to starve than dehydrate.
To them, me drinking water would be like me watching another being consume straight iron so they don’t become iron deficient. And it would need to be straight iron too, any other metals and they die.
That’s me in his eyes.
Er… not eyes. Carapace.
“A bath is when we get into a body of sterile water with the purpose of cleaning ourselves. We use soap to lift oils and bacteria from our body, plus wash out anything that’s gotten tangled in our hair.” I unconsciously run my hand through my hair as I say this, and I watch Rocky’s carapace follow my motion.
“We also take showers. They’re similar to baths, but usually faster and more functional for washing. A shower is a long hose connected to a sprayer that will spread water over our heads and down our bodies to wash off the grime.” Actually, Eridians wouldn’t even have showering as a concept would they?
“How often do humans do this?” He asks curiously, and now we’re into regular question mode.
“It depends on the person and how dirty you are. I used to take showers every two to three days and a bath maybe once a week.” Hot baths were a calming ritual used on weekends to relax and reset myself so that I could take some stress away. My water bill didn’t like it, which is why I only did it once a week and then took ten minute showers the rest of the time.
“Grace dirty often, question?” Aaaaand we’re out of education mode and back to being a pain in the butt again.
I grimace and say “I know that you can’t smell, but humans consider baths and showers to be part of our normal routine because if you don’t shower or bathe, you’ll start to smell like sweat and dead oily skin.” Living in San Francisco meant that showering was a requirement even if some people didn’t consider it so.
“Skin Die question?”
Aaaaand now I’ve freaked him out. He’s standing high in his ball, clicking rapidly to see me properly. Okay, he doesn’t need to check if I’m still alive just because I flubbed my words.
I roll my eyes. “Kind of.” I say petulantly, just to be vague.
He taps a lot more pointedly. “Grace. Explain.”
“Look, you see how squishy I am right? I know you do, you comment on it constantly.” I poke at my own arm. “This is an organ. One that is constantly taking the brunt of all its surroundings with no carapace to shield it.”
He leans in curiously now that I’m entering teacher mode, even though I’m 100% sure that he has gotten most of me memorized by now.
“Which means that instead of getting all torn up and raggedy, my skin is constantly making and shedding its own skin cells so that it doesn’t get damaged over time.” I explain. “Part of the reason our skin does this is because our atmosphere is much thinner than yours. Our skin needs to be able to shed itself if it takes any radiation damage.”
I ignore using the word sunburn, that’s an entirely different conversation for another day.
He recoils slightly, and I don’t blame him. He’s very aware of how delicate and sensitive my skin is, so telling him that it flakes off must sound horrifying. “The consequence of this is that we get dirty and grimy over time, so we use water to keep clean.” I finish.
While I’m debating how to phrase this next part, he asks “Bath is way of getting rid of skin cells?” My face scrunches reflexively as he says that.
“Kind of. It also washes off any other things that might stick to our skin like dirt, bacteria, or oils. Generally it’s good for our health to bathe regularly so that we don’t get sick.” Although, I guess from that angle it makes a bath sound more like a clinical procedure than the real reason I want it.
I’ve been incredibly stressed out the past few weeks, forgive me if I want to take a load off with no-longer obtainable simple pleasures.
“The other part is that baths are just nice.” I find myself saying, because Rocky won’t understand the appeal of them without me explaining. How could he? His atmosphere is so hot that even a hot steam bath would be freezing. “Warm water is an extremely easy way for humans to relax and treat their muscles. They’re very calming.” God, what I would give to be able to take even a room temperature bath right now…
He seems to consider this information, not really knowing what to do with it. Which is fair, he might be still wrapping his head around how integral water is to earth’s ecosystem. Just like I am to their lack of bodies of water in an ecosystem.
“How do you guys clean yourselves?” I ask a little hesitantly, because to be honest I’m not sure if they even need to. Rocky’s carapace isn’t that sensitive, I don’t know how much he can feel bacteria or grime.
“Brush.” Rocky responds. We only have that word because I had to explain what I was doing to the top of my head one day.
Mentally, I am filled with the image of those large brush-arms that farmers will put up for their cows and horses so that the large animals can itch themselves.
I try not to laugh but he must see my insides spasm anyway because his next remark is “What so funny, question?”
“Nothing! Don’t worry about it.”