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Lonely Human
by Seth Patterson
**Glimpse**
Jaren was alone. Each day, he explored Roost City, which boasted a population
of three million songrats. The inhabitants mostly ignored him, but some shook
their heads at the "alien" refugee. He knew that one day, he would find
another human to marry. He had been looking for four years.
Songrats and occasional aliens bustled past him on their way home from work.
Their glittering tuft-rings showed that they had found spouses. The happy
tweeting of children greeting their daddies reminded Jaren of his cold
apartment.
As Jaren ate kettle corn on a park bench, a head of brown hair caught his
attention. He craned his neck to catch a glimpse of the Brunette's face, which
nearby pigeons took as an opportunity to snatch his snack from him.
A carriage pulled in front of the Brunette. By the time it left, she was gone.
"I'll find her," Jaren promised himself. "She must feel lonely like me."
He searched the park for an hour, but caught no more glimpses of the woman.
Pigeons flocked him. When Jaren reached for his kettle corn, all he found was
an empty paper bag.
With a hanging head, Jaren trudged home to his apartment.
On his way up the stairs, he bumped into Key-ley-ley.
"Did you find anyone?" the white-tufted songrat asked. Hope glimmered in her
eyes like always. "I know she's out there."
"I think I saw someone, at least her hair," Jaren said. "I'll go back to the
park tomorrow, just in case she comes back."
Key-ley-ley smiled; at least Jaren thought moving her beak that way counted as
a smile. "I'm praying for you. This came in the mail." She pressed an envelope
into his hand, then hopped up the stairs, trilling a hopeful melody.
Inside his apartment, Jaren opened the envelope and read the bill for a
matchmaking service, which had not found an interested human. He wanted to
cancel his subscription and stop putting lonely hearts ads in the newspaper,
but Key-ley-ley's hope kept him going.
Jaren fingered his mother's wedding ring, silver with a topaz set in it. He
longed to give it to a girl, but doubted he would ever have a chance.
"God, I'm so lonely," he prayed with a sigh, as he fell into bed and gazed at
his mother's paintings on the wall. They reminded him of a homeworld he would
never see again. She had surrounded herself with beauty and life. While she
held a paintbrush, it came alive in her hand. Though she never knew where the
miracle came from, she used it to bless all who saw her art.
Unlike other paintings, hers moved. Grass swayed, birds soared, and viewers
stood in awe. Jaren especially liked watching the swallows dancing and felt a
little sad when they faded into the distance. The swallows always came back,
unlike his deceased mother.
* * *
The next day, he caught no glimpse of the Brunette. Soon, ugly, helpless
chirpers would beg for worms from the park lawn. The wildlife in the park made
Jaren long for a woman to build a nest and raise a family with.
Jaren wanted that, but feared society's reaction to a human loving a songrat.
No one had ever told him it was forbidden, but it surely couldn't be allowed.
Songrats had souls just like humans did, but weren't they too different to
marry? As a refugee, he couldn't afford anything that would ostracize him
further from his community.
He kicked a pebble down a path. Sorrow filled him. Since his parents died in a
gas explosion when he was seventeen, he had been alone. Key-ley-ley's father
gave him work and a warm place to sleep. Jaren stared into space.
As he pondered, Key-ley-ley padded up behind him. "Daddy sent me to find you,"
she panted. "A pipe burst and he needs help now."
Jaren didn't hear Key-ley-ley.
"Jaren," Key-ley-ley tugged on his hand. "The basement might flood."
Jaren snapped out of his trance and raced after his friend. Her unadorned head
tuft bounced on her way to the apartment complex. Jaren struggled to keep up
as she hopped along the tops of bicycle racks and rubbish bins to avoid the
crowd. Her friends called her "Nimblepaws".
All night, Jaren, Key-ley-ley, and her father Run-run-run hauled water out of
the basement in buckets. A blue-feathered renter berated them for shutting off
the pipes to the water closet. The landlord apologized, but it took Key-ley-
ley's silver voice and reassurances to get the renter to leave.
Plaster peeled off the walls, and paper bags of grout burst open. Water hid in
nooks and crannies, ruining food and trunks that belonged to renters.
Despite working all night, Key-ley-ley cooked a wonderful breakfast for the
renters. The new pipe that Jaren had installed allowed her to use cooking
water. Jaren fell asleep at the table, with a spoon of baked oatmeal in his
hand.
**Aftermath**
Despite their efforts, everything stored in the basement was destroyed. Angry
renters demanded restitution, which their honest landlord dutifully offered.
Repairs took Jaren weeks. To save his landlord money, Jaren shared his room
with another renter instead of living in it for free.
After each work day, Jaren returned to the park. To the pigeons' chagrin, he
could no longer afford kettle corn. A rainbow of feathered heads overwhelmed
him as he searched for the human woman. "She was so much taller than the
songrats," he muttered. "She must have been human. I wonder if she's a refugee
like me."
On some days, Key-ley-ley accompanied Jaren. She taunted the pigeons and blue
warblers with perfect imitations of their calls.
"The chirpers are gone," Jaren said as he examined the empty blue warbler
nest.
"Don't look so sad," Key-ley-ley said. "Blue warblers mate for life. There
will be more chicks next spring."
"My parents never got to see me leave the nest," Jaren said. "I still miss
them."
"I miss your mommy's cookies," Key-ley-ley said. "She gave me her recipe, but
I can't make them like she did. They never have the right crunch."
"Yours are still good," Jaren said. "You do a lot of things like she did. Red
was her favorite color too. Sometimes, I think you imitate my mother to cheer
me up."
Key-ley-ley looked away with her hands folded at her waist.
"You do, don't you?" Jaren asked.
"I know what it's like to lose a mommy," Key-ley-ley said as she smoothed her
ruby dress. "I don't like to see you sad."
"You're my best friend," Jaren squeezed her shoulder. "You do so much for me.
I feel like you and your father are family."
"I'm glad," Key-ley-ley said. "We'll find your mystery brunette some day. It's
fun to help you search."
The friends walked home, chatting about the funny headdresses that rich women
had started to wear and the new art exhibit mentioned in the newspaper.
**Visitor**
The next day, I met Jaren at the park. I was a gray human with bat-wings and
antennae, which marked me as an alien.
"Jaren," I called. "Please come here."
He turned to me, surprised to see a half-human girl.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"My name is Crystal Comfort," I said with a curtsey. "I'm a wish-granter."
Jaren wrinkled his eyebrows.
"I can grant one wish per person. I interpret wishes literally and grant them
in an unexpected way," I said. "Please think carefully about what you want."
"Where are your parents?" he asked me.
"In other worlds," I replied. "I visit worlds in my dreams to grant wishes.
I'm being serious about my offer. It won't hurt you to make a wish, unless you
ask for something bad." I laughed nervously.
"Like what?" Jaren demanded.
"Like when a woman asked to be the most beautiful woman in the world. As a
result, all the other women became ugly," I looked at my feet. "I didn't know
how to use my gift back then. Now that I'm twelve, I'm a little better at it."
Jaren thought about finding the Brunette, having a family, or returning to his
homeworld. Then he thought about Run-run-run and his financial problems. He
wanted his boss to get the break he deserved.
"I wish for my landlord, Run-run-run, to be out of debt," Jaren said. "He's a
great guy. It's not his fault a pipe broke."
I smiled.
* * *
The next day, while Jaren swept the hallways of the apartment building, a man
visited. The man's spectacles gave Jaren the feeling that he noticed every
detail around him.
"What can I do for you?" Jaren asked. The man's tailored clothes said he was
too wealthy to be a renter. Jaren thought he might be a moneylender.
"I was told that a man, named Jaren, is interested in selling beautiful alien
artifacts," the man announced. "Of course, I don't mean to imply that beauty
can be purchased, but the necessities of this world force us to stoop to
assign numbers to transcendent realities."
"I'm Jaren," Jaren leaned his broom in a corner. "Are you looking for
paintings?"
"Certainly," the Curator said. "I was told that their excellence is
unrivaled."
"I'll show you," Jaren motioned for the Curator to follow him upstairs. "My
mother painted them before she died. You can still smell the grass and
flowers. She mixed her paints with plant extracts, so they would be more
lifelike."
In Jaren's room, the Curator wept as otherworldly beauty overwhelmed him. Wind
from an alien world bent stalks of grass and filled the room with a spicy,
nutty scent. The painting of first snow had frost on the frame and the
rendering of a spring garden spilled cricket songs into the room.
"It is an honor," the Curator sniffled. "To find the pinnacle of artistic
achievement, the strokes, the use of color, the sheer depth of emotion. To
think that the public has been deprived of such a treasure for years, it's
inconceivable and unjust!"
"I'd love for more people to see them," Jaren said. "My mother tried to teach
me, but I never understood what she was talking about. I felt it though."
The Curator wrote a check with a calligraphic flourish. "I know it is not
enough," the Curator said. "Our budget is tight this year, but please consider
selling the paintings. They must be displayed."
Jaren looked at the document. Seventy thousand florins was more than fair.
"I'll sell them," Jaren said. "As long as I'm allowed to visit them."
"Of course," the Curator said. "I want you to speak at their unveiling."
"How did you find me?" Jaren asked.
"An angelic being, named Crystal," the Curator gloried. "She truly has led me
to the great artistic work of our time."
The men arranged financial details and for workers to pick up the paintings.
Jaren insisted that the check be made out to Run-run-run and delivered the
check to his boss. Run-run-run stared at the check. "I cannot take this, son,"
he said.
"I was forced to leave my home," Jaren said. "I would never want that to
happen to you."
"You could buy a house with this money," Run-run-run said.
"I could, but my home is with you and Key-ley-ley," Jaren replied. "For her
sake, please pay off your debts."
Jaren left the dumbstruck Run-run-run and returned to his sweeping.
**Finding**
After work, Jaren felt elated. Blessing his boss and Key-ley-ley made him feel
alive, the same way I feel when I grant a good wish.
On the way to the park, Jaren indulged in a bag of kettle corn. Pigeons
flocked to him, but he warded them off.
As he sat on a bench, his heart fluttered. A breathtaking human, the Brunette,
sat on the bench opposite him.
"Greetings," she called. "I haven't seen you before."
Jaren mustered the courage to walk over to her.
"I saw you once, weeks ago," Jaren said. "I haven't talked to another full-
human since my parents died."
"I've only been in Roost City for three months," she replied as she twirled
her brown hair around her finger.
"I've been here for five years," Jaren said. "This might seem sudden, but
would you have dinner with me?"
Before the Brunette could answer, a child ran up to her with his own bag of
kettle corn. An orange tuft stuck up from his brown hair.
"Mommy," he said. "Daddy took Lilly to the pond, but I didn't want to go, so I
came back here."
"That's fine, sweetie," she said. "I'm just making a new friend."
"He's human like us," the boy said.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know you were married," Jaren stammered.
The Brunette held out a braid with a jade ring at the tip. "I don't have a
tuft, so people don't always notice I'm married," she said. "I'm sure my
husband would love to meet you."
Jaren covered his face in embarrassment. When he opened his mouth, nothing
came out. He turned on his heels, tripped over his foot, caught himself, then
fled.
**Candlelight**
As Jaren rushed home, with his head down, Key-ley-ley intercepted him. "I saw
what happened," she said. "Before you went over to her, I was going to ask if
I could walk with you." The normally hurried songrat took Jaren's hand to slow
him. "I'm sorry, Jaren," she said as she hugged him. "I know how much you
wanted to find her."
"I've been saving up," Jaren said. "I planned to take her to a nice restaurant
and ask her to go steady with me. I would never have asked her out if I knew
she was married."
"I know that," Key-ley-ley said.
The friends walked home in silence. At the lobby, Key-ley-ley had an idea.
"What if I could give you a date?" she asked.
"How?" Jaren asked.
"I know I'm not human, but we can pretend," she said. "It can be practice for
when you find the right girl. Meet me at my apartment at dinnertime."
Without giving him a chance to answer, Key-ley-ley hopped up the stairs. In
her home, she explained what had happened to her father. He pitied the lonely,
young man.
A flash of gray light filled the room.
* * *
Jaren knocked on Key-ley-ley's door. He held a bouquet of crimson carnations
and wore his best clothes, namely his only trousers without oil stains.
"Greetings," As Key-ley-ley curtseyed, her dress shimmered. The fabric looked
just like the paintings that Jaren's mother made, showing waving grass and
flitting butterflies. Her glossy, white feathers reflected the vibrant colors
of the pink-grass and wiffle bushes of his homeworld.
"You look like art," Jaren stammered. The friends stared at each other.
"Come in, Jaren," Run-run-run offered.
Jaren closed the door behind him and pulled out Key-ley-ley's chair in the
candlelit corner of the kitchen, which held the table.
Run-run-run smiled at me from beside the kitchen sink and said, "Good work on
the dress, it looks like a song from a dream."
I looked at my clawed toes. "Thank you. I'm part spider, so I've woven lots of
miraculous dresses."
"I've never dated before," Jaren said. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do,
but you're beautiful. I've never noticed it before."
"That might be too on the beak for a first date," Key-ley-ley laughed. "Maybe,
you should start by asking what music she likes or where she grew up."
"But I already know that you love folk music and grew up here," Jaren said.
"But, for practice, ask me," Key-ley-ley said.
Run-run-run and I exchanged knowing glances. We served vegetable soup and
fresh biscuits while we tried not to giggle at their absurd "practice"
questions.
"Do you think it's better to be right-handed or left-handed?" Jaren asked.
"Left-handed," Key-ley-ley said. "Most things are designed for left-handed
people."
"I think ambidextrous is best," Jaren said. "A girl I know, can write the same
thing on two papers at once, using each hand." Key-ley-ley blushed. She didn't
know that Jaren liked her strange talent.
"A man I know can work on a water heater all night and still be pleasant to
talk to in the morning," Key-ley-ley said. "What is his secret?"
"He has a great landlord and cook," Jaren said. "She makes wonderful
breakfasts every day. She knows how to please songrat and human palates."
"Maybe she likes hearing happy chirps from the eaters," Key-ley-ley said.
"Maybe she learned her joy from a human refugee, who protected her from
bullies at school and helped her out of her shell. She needed a friend after
her mommy died."
"He needed her too," Jaren said. "She didn't treat him like an alien."
"She knew he had heart," Key-ley-ley said.
Run-run-run and I nodded to each other and went to the other side of the
kitchen.
"You've been such a good friend to me," Jaren said, leaving behind wordplay.
"I would want to be in love with you if I could."
Run-run-run and I rushed to the table to prevent a catastrophe.
"Why can't you?" Run-run-run demanded. He puffed out his crest feathers to
look bigger. "Why can't you see what's as plain as the beak on your face?"
"What do you mean?" Jaren asked.
"You two love each other," Run-run-run said. "You have since you were kids,
but you didn't notice because you were so focused on finding a human."
"I think I know what the problem is," I said as I took Jaren's hand. "Jaren,
there's nothing wrong about you marrying a songrat."
"There isn't?" he asked.
"Of course not," I said. "Songrats are descended from humans. They just have
some cosmetic differences. You and Key-ley-ley both have souls, so loving her
is right."
Hope filled Jaren's eyes. "I thought it wasn't allowed."
"Of course it's allowed," Run-run-run said. "Who told you it wasn't?"
"No one," Jaren blushed.
"Yes, you will have children together," I anticipated Jaren's question.
"They'll have your height and their mother's lovely singing."
Jaren turned to Run-run-run, "May I ask her?"
"I've been waiting for you to, son," Run-run-run said.
"Yes," Key-ley-ley interrupted. "I'll marry you." She threw her arms around
him.
"I was going to ask you to go steady," Jaren said.
"Oh," Key-ley-ley said. "I'll do that, too. Sorry, I'm not meaning to rush
you. It's just that I wished for you to recognize the correct woman to marry
and thought it might be me"
"It's fine," Jaren said. "If your father approves, there's no need to delay.
We know each other well and this angel seems to think it's a good idea."
I nodded. The two were perfect for each other.
Jaren placed his mother's ring on Key-ley-ley's finger to signify their
betrothal. They giggled and discussed their plans over dessert.
After Jaren left, I hugged Key-ley-ley. "You two will be happy together," I
said. "Just remember, I'm a dream-traveler, not an angel."
* * *
Five weeks later, the museum hosted the unveiling of the paintings. Jaren
spoke of the love that flowed from his mother's heart into every brushstroke
in the paintings. He teared up as good memories of someone he would never see
again in this life swirled inside him.
Before a crowd of art enthusiasts, family, and friends, Jaren and Key-ley-ley
exchanged vows, rings, and kisses. The sea of red flowers in the room was
small compared to the ocean of love in their now united heart.
The plants in the paintings swayed in another planet's wind as the vitality of
the couple brought them to life. As Jaren's mother had used a paint portal to
escape to the safety of Roost City, now a paint portal opened to the beauty of
another world.
I prepared to leave their world, happy with the outcome and ready to grant
wishes in another place.
The guests, including the Brunette and me, enjoyed cookies as Jaren enjoyed
the sweetness of his wife's hand in his. This time, Key-ley-ley had made the
cookies with the right crunch.
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