When Ravok sees my face, he breaks into a big joyful laugh that does funny things to my ability to breathe or think.
“I am hopeful that the systems are still functional enough that we can hover the ship a few feet off the ground and push it to your garage,” Ravok explains. Luminescence skitters across his skin as he holds up the Ghostbusters wand and runs it over the hull.
“Let me check a few more systems, and then I’ll be able to tell if this will work.”
This fuels my optimism that his ship is repairable, and if we manage to get it to the garage, it can still be saved.
When he turns and walks around the side of the ship, I follow him, drawn in, like an eager lamb after her shepherd.
Ravok begins to pry open more panels on the ship’s exterior, revealing more complicated-looking alien technology. It’s a riot of vibrant colors and pulsating lights, wires snaking around likesome sort of entrancing, futuristic engine. I imagine it’s a warp drive or quantum reactor or something equally futuristic, but I don’t pry since Ravok seems like he needs to concentrate.
The glow from the circuitry illuminates him, making him look like a statue carved from hematite, highlighting his other-worldly features as his hands move with swift precision over the wires and circuits.
While he works with technology that is utterly foreign to me, I make myself useful in other ways. I scan the surrounding area, looking for any unwelcome intruders in our secluded corner of the forest.
The sharp click of a metal panel catching in place resonates in the air as Ravok steps back, his glowing eyes meeting mine. He’s trying to play it cool, but the worry etched into the hardened lines of his face tells a different tale. I swallow, curling my fingers into the hem of my t-shirt.
“Is there anything else we can do right now to help fix the ship?” I ask. My heart drums loudly in my ears as he shakes his head.
“No, Leelee, I’ve done what I can with the supplies I have,” he says, a deep sigh tumbling from his lips. “I think we should try to move the ship to your garage if you are still amenable to this plan.”
“Yes, of course,” I reply, fumbling over my answer. The strangeness of Ravok being able to speak my language is still strange and wondrous. I’m glad I no longer have to do interstellar charades, but the switch to being able to speak English is so abrupt that my head is spinning.
“Leelee, maybe you should back away as I power up the ship – just in case,” Ravok commands.
With a nod, I scurry away, slipping behind the protective cover of a thick tree trunk. My heart pounds against my ribs like a battlefield drum as I watch Ravok re-enter the ship.
As the minutes tick away, the forest’s silence is suddenly pierced by a deep, subsonic hum. Startled, I peek from my hiding spot, my eyes widening as the vessel levitates, rising several feet above the ground. The last bits of leaves and branches that once covered the alien ship shake loose, raining down on the clearing.
With the low hum still reverberating through the quiet of the forest, Ravok emerges from the open hatch of his ship. His silhouette against the dark opening, limned almost golden in the sunlight, makes him look like a statue, a beautiful golden mirage, adding an extraordinary, otherworldly aura about him. In a swift, graceful move, he jumps several feet from the ship’s opening onto the soft earth below, landing with ease.
His eyes find mine from across the clearing, and a triumphant smile graces his alien features. I step out from behind the tree, slowly approaching him with my eyes locked on his face. Relief and pride radiate from him. It sears my heart, replacing my fear with a warmth that lingers. His smile alone is enough to tell me the ship worked how he wanted it to, a step towards getting Ravok back into space.
“We’ll be able to push the ship? It won’t be too heavy?” I ask, giving the ship that probably weighs a literal ton a doubtful look.
“It should be as easy to push as a leaf on the wind, Leelee. The anti-gravity thrusters remove all friction making it a simple task.” He starts to explain how the science and technology make this possible using a lot of strange, complicated words that I do not understand, but I manage to piece it together. I liken it to placing a car in neutral – the ship is powered up so that it hovers but isn’t ‘in gear’ so we can easily push it in any direction.
When I move to help him push, he stops me with a gentle hand on my shoulder. Without a word, he lifts me, his hands spanning my waist with ease as if I weigh nothing. He sets me on one of the wings of his spaceship. I find myself sitting onthe cold, smooth surface, stunned into silence. Ravok steps into the space between my thighs, our faces on the same level for once. If I weren’t so shocked – and turned on – by the display of strength, I would relish being able to look him directly in his face. His eyes capture mine, and we share a breathless moment. A tsunami of emotions crash like waves together in the depths of his gaze.
I find myself leaning in, my heart pounding, wanting Ravok to kiss me again. His eyes blaze with white-hot heat. However, he seems to shake himself out of it, stepping back abruptly before turning towards the spaceship. He places his hands on its side, ready to push.
“Leelee, just relax and I’ll get us back to your home,” he tells me with a determined look.
I lean back, resting my hands against the sun-warmed metal of the spaceship, looking up at the vast sky. I let out a laugh, thinking of Koko on her float, “I feel like Cleopatra on her barge on the Nile River.” I then jokingly add, “Where are my peeled grapes? I demand the princess treatment.”
Ravok turns his head towards me, his eyes meeting mine with a perplexed expression. This makes me burst into uncontrollable giggles, clutching my stomach. His confusion fades into an amused smile – even though I’m sure he doesn’t understand why I find it so funny. But the laughter feels good, lightening the air between us.
I can feel the quiet hum from the spaceship under my butt as I sit and watch the scenery as I float past. Ravok is right, he looks like he is barely pushing the ship to get it to move forward. It reminds me of the air hockey table at the local arcade from when I was a kid. Whenever I put in my quarters and the table activated, the plastic puck would float like a cushion of air between the table and the puck, making it hover and glide like magic.
My fingers twitch with nerves as we head back towards the cabin, the crunching of Ravok’s footsteps echoing through the quiet forest. Now that we can talk, I have so much I want to ask him, but I can’t seem to gather my thoughts into any semblance of order – the memory of our kiss is consuming most of my brain power. But I veer away from talking about that since I can’t decide how I feel about it. Is it unethical to kiss a stranded alien? Even if he seemed as into it as I was, maybe even more so.
I keep stealing hesitant glances at him as we glide along the path. His towering figure next to my petite one seems almost unreal. It’s as if I’m stuck in some vivid dream and reality is waiting to wash over me any second, reining in my racing heart.
“If we find all the tools and supplies you need, how long do you think it will take to fix your ship?” I ask, trying to sound casual.
Silence stretches for a moment before I watch his eyes narrow, deep in thought. “Hmmm…a week perhaps.”
Just a week, and then he’ll be gone. I nod to myself, my mind racing ahead. Under my breath, I murmur, “I’ll have to see if Koko will let me rent the cabin for the rest of the month, just to be safe.” I hope he doesn’t hear the uncertainty creeping into my voice. A week with Ravok, and then he’ll be gone forever.
