1.70 - 67 Years Too Young

1.70 - 67 Years Too Young


I grip the table hard as I attempt to steady myself on the stool of a random hotel. The Pariah crew really knows how to push the limits of what a decent party is. I’m sure I’ve been drugged at least twice and the two are fighting it out for control of my body. Part of me wants to close my eyes and fall backwards into the world of warm colors that fill my head each time I blink. Another part of me, wants to run faster and further than I ever have, just knowing that I can. If I closed my eyes would the colors wrap around me, and slow me down, or would I burst through them, emerging from the other side a new and better me. The urge to sleep takes over my body as I rest my head on the table. Am I the only one feeling like this? A quick glance confirms it.

Nastas is off in the corner conducting what looks to be shady business. He didn’t even participate but he’s always selling the goods. Mae and Janet are dancing with a single man. I’m sure they’ll be fighting over him before the night ends. Edan is near a wall playing some sort of game for money. Each player tosses a coin and whoever gets the closest without going through a glowing ring wins the cash. Enyolo is sitting relaxed in a booth, seemingly on lookout while occasionally pouring shots from a bottle.  

I force myself off the stool, gently gripping to any understanding of balance left in my legs. Each step is slow and deliberate. I’m not wobbling like a young child taking their first steps, but my mind forces me to pause after each step and verify the ground is still there beneath me. Each forward motion is like missing a single step on a set of stairs; my heart racing until my foot makes contact with the ground again. I stumble into the booth causing Enyolo to glare at me.

“Hello, tall, dark, gold and brooding,” I smile at her, she rolls her eyes. “sorry, it’s the drugs.”

“You frequently embarrass yourself in front of me. It is not the drugs, although you should not be taking drugs that you are unfamiliar with.”

“I didn’t take drugs. I drank them. No, wait. Someone put drugs into my drink. Someone put drugs,” I sound the words out slowly, “in my drink. Yes, that is what I mean to say.”

“It makes no difference if you’ve ingested the drugs on purpose or were drugged by a third party. You have still embarrassed yourself.”

“If I hadn’t embarrassed myself, would you have given me a chance?”

“A chance at what?”

“A dance, a date, a chance to know you better?”

“Ah,” Enyolo nods her and pours a shot of alcohol for herself. “I would not be able to give you a chance at what you want.”

“What is it that I want?”

“Your species is very driven by sex and attractiveness.”

“All species are. Eat, sleep, fuck and self-defense. That’s how we’re all programed.”

“Yes, but your species puts, fuck,” she mimics me, “in front of everything else.”

“How are Naengi any different?”  

“We place emphasis on both self-discovery and community before our genitalia,” I can tell she’s gearing up for a long speech, “Your species has a saying that it takes as village to raise a child. For my people it is a reality. I do not have a mother or father. I have a village that raised me. At the age of 25 each of us will leave that village on a journey of self-discovery. Some may never leave the hemisphere their village is in. Others, like me, will see many planetary systems. The only goal is to is to find who you are as an individual. What do you enjoy? Who do you enjoy? What is your calling in life? Yet, at the age of 75 we shall return to our village. During the next 25 years we will repay the debt owed for raising us. We birth as many children as possible and use what we learned to help mold them for the future. From age 100 on, any time you have remaining is yours.”

“You left out the fuck for fun part,” I stretch out in the booth. “That’s a pretty important part, or do you not do that?”

“We do that, but it does you no good.”

“Why is that?”

“Until it is time for the women to birth children or the men to spread their seed, we only sleep with those of the same gender. Sex is primarily reproductive for us. We have fun, but it’s just fun. There’s no romance to it. Simply a way for us to release pent up desires until the day comes when we must reproduce for the future of our race.”

“If that weren’t the case, would I have a chance?”

“As you are right now, not at all.”

“What can I do to change,” since when do I beg for sex? “Not that I care what you think.”

“You care what I think, if you didn’t you would not have sought me out. I much prefer the calm and calculated version of you. The warrior who carries out his mission without complaint. Yet will abandon that mission if it means saving his comrades. The fact that you have allowed yourself to fall victim to someone else’s trifling acts does you no favors.”

“So, there’s absolutely no chance for us?”

“Survive another 67 years and we’ll see.”

“You’re 33, I learned something new about you.”

Enyolo giggles before taking another shot. “I see that you can still do math.”

“Quick maths,” I laugh.

“I hope you do survive another 67 years. Your brother as well. You are both kind, and unique in your own ways. If I did not have a village to return to, I would be happy to call you both my family.”

“That’s incredibly kind of you.”

“Yes, but you won’t remember it in the morning.”

“Why not?”

“You’ll be passing out soon. You’re barely awake now.”

I lean in and whisper to her, “You’re absolutely right. The colors are going to take me soon. Just don’t let Mae or Janet get me.”

“I will defend your honor with my life,” Enyolo laughs.

“It’s really cute when you make jokes, and you have dimples when you smile. I’ll make sure to survive another 67 years. Just to keep seeing it.”

Enyolo punches me in the arm, before quickly taking a shot. “Just go to sleep.”

“Tell me what your village is like.”

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