Майкл Салливан - Deep Magic. Fourth Collection

“I’m al’right now,” she said quietly, and I turned and watched as this alien creature, easily beating my height by two feet, stepped out of the trees in front of me. I’d never been this close, so you can’t blame a guy for staring (again). Her fluffy head of hair matched the raccoon marks on her face, and her ears tilted like a curious kitten’s, her tail shifting back and forth in a slow wag. Her sleeveless shirt had a Japanese cartoon character on it. (That threw me a little.) When she held out her hand to me, it was only slightly bigger than mine but padded on the palms, with small claws instead of fingernails. She smelled faintly of juniper-berry shampoo. “Th’ank you very m’uch for your h’elp.”

I shook her hand out of reflex. That curiosity of mine was buzzing like a swarm of bees, and maybe it was the cartoon T-shirt that relaxed my guard, because the question spilled out before I could stop it. “What happened?”

She turned away and crossed her arms, a soft growl emanating from her throat. “I was n’apping on the grass. I sh’oke up and my”—a word consisting of an impossible mix of guttural and musical sounds—“sh’as in the tr’ee. Probably somesh’ne’s idea of a joke.” If her face were any indication, Vasa did not find the joke funny. “I c’ouldn’t get it down sh’ithout . . . exposing m’yself.”

Searching for a way to be helpful, I volunteered the first thought that came to mind. “You know, the centaurs in movies don’t wear anything on their back halves, so probably no one would care if you—” Everything stupid about that statement slapped me in the face before I could finish the sentence. I winced, bracing myself in case a real slap was imminent.

“Oh, is that sh’at you call th’em?” Vasa sounded amused. I glanced up and, yep, grin on her face. Phew, dodged that bullet. “I’ve been m’eaning to see th’ese ‘Narnia’ movies people keep ment’ion’ing.” The smile faded off her face, and those blue eyes clouded. “But that doesn’t m’atter. I’d still feel nak’ed whether h’umans knew it or n’ot.”

I scratched the back of my neck. “Guess I can’t argue with that. How long have you been here?”

“Ab’out an hour.”

I stared at her. “You haven’t seen anyone except me for an hour? ” Was there a concert going on or something? This place usually bustled.

“No, I s’aw a few p’eople.” She looked down at me, and the warmth in her smile would have melted ice. “You were j’ust the first sh’ne I th’ought would be k’ind ab’out it.”

And that’s when good sense jumped the hurdle back into my brain. What am I doing?! I stumbled back away from her, stammering. “Sorry, I, uh, I have to, uh, I have to get to a meeting or something . . .” Chills ice skated up and down my spine as I turned to leave. I was an idiot, a complete idiot, what if someone came along and—

Her rumbling accent rang out way too loud over the sidewalk. “Sh’ait, can I ask you—?”

I spun around and stomped back. “Shut up!” It came out as a frantic hiss. She just stood there while I took another quick look around and then pointed a finger in her furry face. “Look, I’m sorry , but I’m not a kind person. I’m not. And I, I can’t be friends with you.” My flash of fear began to fade, and all of a sudden I felt like a terrible person for what I was doing. Well, good, that’s what I was trying to get across to her anyway. “People look at you, everyone looks at you. I can’t have them looking at me, and they will if we know each other. I don’t need people being interested in me, OK? I’m just trying to be normal. ”

She could have been smiling or shooting me a death glare—I didn’t know. I couldn’t bring myself to look her in the eyes. I smashed my cap lower onto my head, trying to make my hands quit shaking. “Why did you have to show up?” I muttered, mostly to myself. “Everything was fine. ” I needed to shut up, but I couldn’t stop. “I know everyone is a jerk to you, and that stinks, it really does; I hate it. I wish I could do something about it, but I can’t , because then they’ll think I’m on your side, and they’ll pay attention to me, and they might figure it out. And then everything will be ruined, and I’ll . . .” The words tried to clog up my throat, but I forced them out. “I’ll be a freak just like you !”

I stopped finally, out of breath. The sun had fully set, only the sidewalk lamps lighting the area. Bile rolled in my stomach. At least now she’ll know I’m a jerk. No way she’d want to talk to me after that, and no way I’d ever want to look her in the face again. Best of both worlds, right?

“I th’ought I rec’ognized your smell.” My head snapped around at those soft words. Vasa was staring at me with . . . I don’t know. Compassion? She smiled again, way too nicely for someone who’d just been snarled at by Jerk Incarnate. “I’ve r’un into it b’efore,” she explained. “Just not . . . h’ere.”

Paralysis. Exposure. Anger . “Wait a mi— Is that why?” I stepped back, the pieces falling into a very ugly picture. Chills turned to prickles of heat on my skin. “Is that why you looked at me at lunch? Why you thought I’d help now? Did you, did you think I had to be on your side because you know—” Years of practice kept me from saying it. We’d hidden for so long, decades, and now this ignorant dogtaur might ruin it because I got too close—

But Vasa was shaking her head, palms in the air. “No! No, that sh’asn’t sh’y. I could just t’ell you were . . . k’inder.” She sat back on her haunches, arms folding, and her gaze turned distant. “Not many h’umans have been k’ind. I th’ink more sh’ant to, but they’re afr’aid. Too many who don’t sh’ant us here.” My gut twisted. “But you’re sh’ne of the sh’nes who don’t hate me, at least. I c’ould tell that sh’en I looked at you at the caf’eteria. Thank you for th’at, by the sh’ay.” That too-human face stared up at the sky with the longing of someone missing home. The silence stretched between us, only insects chirring in the bushes.

“I underst’and.” A low, rumbling sigh. “It’s r’eally hard b’eing . . . diff’erent. I wouldn’t for’ce that on an’ysh’ne.” Her smile was sad as she looked at me and tilted her head in a nod. “I’ll keep my d’istance. Best of l’uck to you.” Another pause. “I sh’ish I sh’ere as good at looking h’uman as you,” she ended softly.

I stood there for a while after the centaur alien left. The stars had come out, the sky a deep, deep blue. If I tried hard enough, maybe I could get my skin to match and disappear forever.

It was almost midnight by the time I reached the dorm and fell into bed.

Classes were a haze for the next few weeks with everyone prepping for finals. I almost called in sick a few times—metaphorically I mean, most profs don’t even take attendance these days—but I was already skating on my grades. The felnim acted like she didn’t know me, and everyone else looked right through me. Just another college drone.

It was perfect. I was safe.

“Man, what has got you so down in the dumps lately?” Luke asked over Thursday study-lunch. It was drizzly today, so only a few of us stubborn types were eating outside. Ben hadn’t shown up yet, and Carla and Feb were engrossed in textbooks for their Chemistry III course. I snapped out of the staring contest I’d been having with the universe and looked up to see my roommate frowning. “You’ve been acting like somebody ran over your dog for a week. Is the physics final that bad?”