Ephemeral: Chapter 9

Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash

At first, Clara did not recognize the man who emerged from Mother Alden's hallway minutes later. In place of the dusty cowboy, there now stood (leaning a little to one side) a fresh, clean-shaven young man with a well-formed jawline and tousled brown hair still damp from the shower. In place of the torn shirt and dirty jeans, he now wore a clean navy blue shirt which stretched pleasantly across his chest and contrasted nicely with his dun-colored trousers. And his eyes – gray as the ocean, penetrating, and heavily lashed – made Clara's insides flutter. I could skinny dip in those eyes …

Clara didn't know she'd been staring until Aaric cocked his head slightly and asked, “Is there something wrong, Miss Milton?”

That broke Clara's trance. “Oh, nothing,” she answered with a self-conscious laugh. Nothing at all …

“Alright then.” Aaric checked the time piece hanging on the wall. “We ought to get going. But … um …” He looked Clara up and down, then glanced at the hardwood floor and scratched the back of his head. “Did you happen to bring any other clothes, Miss Milton?”

“Clothes?” Clara blinked. She glanced down at her black sleeveless blouse, gray slacks, and shiny kitten heels. She hadn't considered that her Agilis wardrobe might not fit in well with Almitian locals. Was her style somehow offensive? Was she showing too much skin? Feeling apprehensive, she curled a tendril of brown hair around her ear. “Is my outfit unsuitable for Almitas?”

“Not for meeting people or going out to dinner,” Aaric said quickly. “It's very nice for those things.”

Relieved, Clara's shoulders relaxed.

“But it may be less suited for horseback riding.”

“Horseback riding?!” Clara stiffened, her green eyes wide. She could barely keep upright on a hovercraft, much less a thousand-pound animal with a mind of its own. “Why don't we take my vehicle instead?” she offered. “There's plenty of room.”

Aaric frowned. “How much extra fuel did you bring?” he asked.

“Fuel? Not much ...”

“Hmm,” he considered. “I wouldn't want to use your limited supply. You might not have enough power to get back to Agilis. And believe me, you do not want to get stranded out here after dark.”

Clara tensed. “Why not?”

Aaric sat down on the bench by the back door to put on his boots. “We have some interesting wildlife out here. Ever heard of a snarlek?”

Clara shook her head; the name alone sounded scary.

Aaric shoved a foot into his boot. “If I'm remembering my Earthly zoology correctly, it's kind of like a wolf, but the size of a bear. They hunt in groups and can make pretty quick work of their prey.” He glanced up and saw the terrified look on Clara's face. “But they're no match for a horse's speed,” he added. “And they only come out at night. Plus, there's a high-voltage electric fence that borders most of our central farms to keep them at bay.”

“That's good ...” Clara said, though she still had major misgivings about riding a four-footed mode of transportation. As Aaric donned his other boot and stood to his feet, she licked her dry lips. “Excuse me,” she said. “I don't mean to be difficult, but I've never ridden a horse before,” she confessed. “I'd never seen one in real life until this morning.”

“They don't have horses on Earth anymore?!” Aaric looked aghast.

“Oh, they do!” Clara raised a placating hand. “But they're rare. More of a specialty animal than a functional one. Only the very wealthy bother to own them.”

“Oh.” Aaric glanced again at the time piece hanging on the wall. “You're welcome to stay here if you'd rather. But if I gave you my most gentle mare and we went slowly, would you be willing to try riding horseback? It's easy once you get the hang of it.” He gazed at her with those striking gray eyes of his and waited.

Clara's excuses evaporated. Before she knew what her lips were doing, she smiled and said, “Why not? It will give my teammates something to talk about.” What are you saying?! Her cautious side chided. What if you break your neck?!

But Aaric was already looking at her with approval. “In that case,” he said, “why don't you borrow some pants and boots from Mother Alden? I'm sure she won't mind. And it will make the experience much more comfortable. Her bedroom door is the second on the right.” He pointed.

Clara swallowed hard and walked woodenly down the hallway. Four minutes (or one degree) later, she re-entered the kitchen wearing a pair of blue jeans and black riding boots. Mother Alden was slightly taller than Clara, so she'd had to roll up the pant legs and borrow a pair of thick socks to help her fit better into the boots. “Will this do?” she asked Aaric who'd stood to his feet at her approach.

He eyed her a moment, then looked down at his boots which he'd wiped clean in Clara's absence.“That'll do just fine,” he said.

Clara grabbed her binder from the island. “Will it be alright if I film things for my research?”

“I'm sure the Rutgers will be flattered, as long as you ask first.”

Clara slid the tablet from its sleeve. “Do you mind if I record you?”

“Me?!” Aaric flushed. “Why on Elpis would you want to record me?”

Because you're gorgeous! Clara repressed a smile and decided to give a second reason. “For sociological documentation. I've never met a horseman before, and I'd like to record my intercultural experiences.”

“I suppose ...” Aaric looked no less uncomfortable, but his face returned to its normal shade. “If you must, can you do it while I get the horses ready? We really should go. I contacted the Rutgers and said we'd arrive before midday meal.”

“Absolutely.” Clara slid the tablet back into her binder and walked toward the back door.

Aaric held it open for her. “After you.”

Clara nodded in thanks and caught a whiff of her interim host in passing; she detected the fragrance of fresh cut pine and lavender. He even smells gorgeous! She thought with pleasure. I guess this rural internship assignment might not be so bad after all.

#

Mother Alden's red barn smelled of sweet hay and warm leather. It stood two stories high with a classic hay loft, tack room, and two rows of horse stalls on either side of a wide center aisle blanketed with fresh wood chips. Three skylights and the wide open doors on either end of the barn allowed fresh breezes and Elpis rays into the building. Clara followed Aaric past the clucking chickens and snoozing orange feline toward the horse stalls. She jumped back when a black horse stuck its head over its stall door and snorted at her. Curious, several long faces with velvet noses appeared down the aisle like two rows of sentries.

Clara clutched her black binder a bit tighter. “They don't bite, do they?” she asked.

Aaric shook his head. “Don't worry. They're just interested in seeing a new face. You can wait here if you like while I get your ride ready.”

Clara stood mute as he hobbled away, selected a dappled gray horse from the end of the row of stalls, and led it back to her with a line and halter. Clara felt perspiration bead on her forehead. That horse looks twice my size.

“Miss Milton, I'd like you to meet Nelly – our oldest and most trusted mare.”

Clara opened her mouth to say that this was probably a big mistake, but no words came.

Aaric reached into his pocket and drew out three small carrot chips. “One of the best ways to make friends with a horse is to give it a treat. Watch.” He held one piece of carrot under Nelly's nose. She hoovered it up and started crunching.

He reached out and handed Clara the remaining two carrot pieces. “Just take a deep breath and hold your palm flat.”

Clara looked into Aaric's eyes. She wasn't sure why, but she didn't want to disappoint them. She inhaled deeply, then held her hand out, palm up. “Like this?”

Aaric nodded.

Clara placed the carrots in her hand and – squeezing her eyes shut – took a tentative step toward the mare. Nelly's warm suede lips brushed up the carrots and tickled her fingers. She opened her eyes and gazed into the horse's large brown ones. “That wasn't so bad,” Clara admitted, feeling sheepish for how intimidated she'd felt. “And you can call me Clara, by the way. 'Miss Milton' sounds rather formal. After all, we're about the same age.”

Aaric looked at Clara with a mysterious expression which she could not name – an expression akin to sadness but hinting at something deeper, like a knowledge that enlightened one to darkness in the world. Why is he looking at me like that? What did I say?

After a few uneasy seconds, Clara broke the silence by opening her black binder and drawing out her tablet. “Can I record you while you … do your thing?”

Aaric turned his attention back to Nelly. “If you like. And you can call me Aaric.” He patted the gray horse, then left to retrieve a black one from its stall. After visiting the tack room, he proceeded to pick the horses' hooves free of stones, curry comb their hides 'til they grew glossy, and put on their blankets, pads, saddles, and bridles. Soon, there was nothing left to do but for Clara to get on.

Oh boy … She gulped and placed her recording device in a saddlebag.

Aaric held one of Nelly's silver stirrups. “If you put your left foot here, you can grip the saddle and swing your right leg over the other side.”

“Okay ...” Clara tried to do as Aaric said, but she was so short, she could barely touch the saddle's leather top.

Aaric stifled a chuckle. “Need a boost?”

Clara pursed her lips together. “Yes, please.”

Aaric interlocked his fingers and lifted Clara's right foot upwards until she could swing it over Nelly's back herself. The horse in question curved her neck to see who this awkward passenger was, but true to Aaric's description stood quietly.

“Wow, I'm high!” Clara exclaimed as she hunched over Nelly's neck; without so much as a seat belt or reassuring horn to grip, she didn't trust herself to sit upright quite yet.

Aaric grinned as he adjusted the stirrups, then handed her the reins.

Clara's eyes widened.

“Don't worry about steering. Nelly will follow me. All you have to do is keep the reins from dragging on the ground.”

“Okay. I think I can manage that much.”

“Also, you can grab a fistful of mane if it will make you feel more secure.”

Clara clutched the horse's thick hair and held onto it like a lifeline.

Nelly raised her head slightly and snorted.

“Maybe not so tight, though,” Aaric said.

“Oh.” Clara loosened her grasp. “Sorry.”

Despite his legs' different lengths, Aaric gracefully swung himself up onto his own black stallion without issue and – after adjusting his own stirrups – led Clara out from the barn down a dirt path. Nelly followed Aaric's horse, and the two riders made their way past the paddock, the vegetable garden, a field of corn, and a green pasture with what appeared to be cattle and sheep grazing on the thick grass. Clara watched in fascination; she had only ever seen such creatures in books.

As she adjusted to her horse's swaying motion, Clara relinquished her hold on the mane (much to Nelly's relief) and slowly raised herself to a vertical position which, in turn, relieved her aching back.

The dirt path grew wider and curved along a rippling river, then turned sharply to the left toward a field of meter-high yellow flowers which smelled vaguely tropical. “What's growing in that field?” she called up to Aaric.

Aaric turned around in his saddle to face Clara while his horse continued to walk. He smiled to see she was now sitting upright. “We call it 'Elpis flavus,' – one of Elpis 7's indigenous cover crops. The birds love it.” He turned back to face the path ahead.

Clara scrunched her forehead in recollection. “I thought Mother Alden said she used hay or clover as her cover crops.”

“She does,” Aaric called over his shoulder. “But we've left Mother Alden's property. That is Dr. Lansing's field. He raises mostly root crops and sheep. Then there's the Browns who specialize in corn and raise hogs, the Dickenses who raise chickens ...” He proceeded to name four or five other families with different agricultural specialties.

“Do most people in Almitas farm and raise animals for a living?” Clara asked.

Aaric nodded. “Not that those are the only jobs here. In town, we have business owners, engineers, doctors, lawyers, teachers … it's like a small city – but far less glitzy than Agilis.”

“Do people ever join the other clans?” Clara asked.

“It happens. It's not forbidden or anything. But not everyone would be welcome everywhere ...”

“Do you mean the Silva tribe?” Clara asked. “My … ” Clara wasn't sure what title to give Eden. “ … internship coordinator didn't give me much information.”

“That doesn't surprise me,” Aaric said. “The Silvans are rather independent. But Almitas trades with them. We need wood, and they need horses.”

Clara twiddled the leather straps in her hands. “I heard there was some sort of disagreement between the Silex and Silva tribes shortly after the first settlers landed on Elpis 7 ...”

Aaric stopped his horse, scanned the horizon, then turned in his saddle and eyed Clara warily. “Are you recording this?”

Nelly had also halted in her tracks. “No!” The question startled Clara. “My tablet's in the saddle bag.” She pointed to it. “Why? Are people not supposed to talk about the first Elpis 7 expedition?”

Aaric stared at Clara as if calculating her character and finding several unknown variables. She wondered why he should view her – an outsider with no tribal allegiance – with suspicion. With nothing more egregious to hide than her attraction to him, Clara met Aaric's stark gray eyes without flinching though her stomach turned somersaults.

Holding Aaric's gaze was, perhaps, the best argument in Clara's favor. After what seemed like an age, Aaric's frame and face relaxed as he appeared to make a decision. “I'll make you a deal, Clara Milton. I'll answer your question if you answer mine. Fair enough?”

“Okay ...” Clara frowned slightly; this charade seemed unnecessary.

“Tell me,” Aaric said, “why did the original settlers come to Elpis 7 in the first place?”

“Oh!” Clara almost laughed. “For all the normal reasons: independence, economic opportunity, to make a fresh start in a new world ...”

“No, no,” Aaric shook his head. “You misunderstand my question. I know why the colonists came to the new world. But what I want to know from you is why they left the old one.”

Clara shifted in her saddle. Somehow, the colonists' particular reasons for emigrating across the galaxy had never come up. Not once. “I ... I don't actually know the specifics,” she said lamely. “They didn't mention them in the brief – at least not in the beginning of it.”

Aaric nodded, then turned away to nudge his black horse forward.

Clara watched agape as her own mare followed. She couldn't believe he wouldn't answer a simple, honest question about his colonial history. “I don't mean to be offensive, Aaric,” she called, “but I am trying to study this colony. How can I complete my research if people don't answer my questions?”

Again, Aaric stopped his horse and turned toward Clara with the same mysterious expression he'd worn earlier. “Perhaps ...” he said quietly, “you need to ask bigger questions.” He faced the front and urged his horse on.

Clara pursed her lips as Nelly swayed from side to side as she walked after Aaric. Bigger questions?! She stewed. What is he talking about?! People won't even answer my basic questions! She wondered what could have happened to make everyone so cryptic about the first Elpis 7 expedition. But she ventured no more inquiries. The stubborn horseman ahead would speak no further on the subject – not until she found out why the original colonists had emigrated, anyway, that she knew.

What she didn't know was how she would finish her master's thesis if all Elpis 7 colonists proved to be as tight-lipped as Aaric Alden.

---

So what do you think?

Any idea why the colonists might have wanted to leave Earth? And what are some of life’s “bigger questions” you’ve had? (And what are some of the answers you’ve found?) Feel free to share in the comments below.