He looked up from the buttons on the front of his tunic and inhaled sharply. The soft pink was so pretty against Zef’s skin, and while they worethe same tunic-and-pants combo, it looked natural and beautiful on them. Bryce had a feeling he looked like a stuffed pink pinata.
Judging from the way Zef was staring at him though, maybe he didn’t look as silly as he felt. Their small teeth captured their bottom lip as their wings flared wide, vibrating loudly for a moment. A soft whistle escaped them, and a rush of darker green flooded their cheeks as they stepped toward him.
Slowly, their top hands rose and started fastening the five buttons at the front of his tunic, ensuring they didn’t touch his skin. Their lower hands tugged and smoothed the fabric at his side, a barely-there pressure. All the while, that thrumming, whistling sound vibrated in their throat.
All at once, the office felt too small, and Bryce studied Zef’s face as they secured the final button at the base of his throat. “Does it look okay?” he asked, and why the heck was he whispering?
Releasing their bottom lip, Zef lifted their gaze to meet his, their compound eyes unnervingly large this close. “Yes. You look lovely.”
Lovely. What a strange word choice. It felt too delicate, too pretty to describe him, even in these beautiful clothes. If anything, Zef was the lovely one.
“So do you,” he said, and their cheeks darkened even more.
“Thank you.”
After they’d gathered and folded their clothes, along with Bryce’s, they left them and their purse on Toa Sian’s desk. Practically skipping ahead of him, Zef urged him to follow, and their excitement was infectious.
Behind the A-frame, a vast communal garden stretched at least an acre, if not more. Zef showed him some of the vegetation, explaining the names of the vegetables and the human equivalent if they knew it. They didn’t travel too far into the fields, though.
Instead, they led him around the other side where there were outdoor games set up. Zef taught him one they calledshulah,where he had to slide wooden pucks down a smooth, wooden board to the end where he had to sink them into one of five nets, all of which were separated by arches.
Like billiards meeting shuffleboard, Bryce had to aim and hope they didn’t bounce off the columns of the arches. A group of children between the ages of eight and twelve gathered around to watch—and laugh—as he failed miserably. Zef, of course, was great at it, and they wiped the floor with him.
They played another game that reminded him of croquet, though the mallets they used to hit the balls were wide and flat. The rules were a little different, but he did much better with that one. Curious Mantodeas hovered around him, watching with rapt attention as the hatchlings forced him to play a balancing game, where he had to walk a plank with a bowl of water in each hand.
He spilled, and the children clapped and giggled at his expense.
As two hatchlings braided Zef’s hair, one whistled at Bryce and pointed to the ground. Bryce sat crisscross applesauce as the child proceeded to add short, stubby braids to his beard and hair. The other children watched, but most seemed too scared to join in.
The hatchling clicked and chirruped at him, carrying on a conversation he couldn’t understand. He sat and listened, smiling at Zef the whole time.
“I’m Bryce,” he told the hatchling when they’d finished the final braid in this beard. He patted his chest. “Bryce.”
They cocked their head. “Bryce,” they repeated awkwardly.
A ripple of “Bryce, Bryce, Bryce,” swept through the kids watching—and even some of the adults—and he nodded.
“Nice to meet you,” he said slowly.
With a whistle, the kid bowed at him, then, giggling excitedly, they scurried off with the other children, disappearing into the crowd.
“Thanks,” he called after them as he inspected the beard braids in his phone camera.
“A true Mantodea,” Zef said as they sat down beside him.
“I’m on my way,” he said, turning the camera so they were in the shot too.
Smiling wide and a little bashful, Zef leaned in, their head brushing Bryce’s temple. He snapped the picture, then a few more. He crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue, making Zef laugh, and he captured that, too, on film.
“Come on. Look ugly with me,” Bryce challenged, pressing his chin to his chest to exaggerate his double chin.
Flustered and blushing, Zef did the same, and Bryce took the picture of their double chins. Then he made a snarling face, and Zef puffed out their cheeks. They proceeded to take numerous ugly selfies until Zef was full-belly laughing into their hands, and Lord as his witness, he’d never heard anything so adorable.
A sharp whistle cut through the air, and everyone, including the children, all stopped what they were doing and headed toward the front of the A-frame. Zef rose and brushed the grass off their pants, so Bryce did the same.
“What’s happening now?”
“The ceremony. This festival, it is a celebration, but also a remembrance. Of our ancestors, of those who came before but have now passed on. And then looking forward to new life, new beginnings.” Brushing something off Bryce’s shoulder, they smiled up at him. “This you may observe, but not take part. Stay seated, and stay silent. Do not interrupt.”
