Monahdah are human ancestors that migrate to Earth to breed and are an all male race. When a Monahdah, named Victor, discovers a female Monahdah he falls in love. The possibility of her existence is rare and celebratory. The last time this occurred was 2000 years ago, and they think this is the beginning of a Monahdah prophecy of world peace, but first they must stop an imminent war with their enemies, the Simerin, in order to save the universe from their destruction.
There were men of great strength and size on the earth in those days; and after that, when the sons of God had connection with the daughters of men, they gave birth to children: these were the great men of old days, the men of great name. —Genesis 6:4
Anah
The fire is finally hot, and I remove my blanket. Our old, adobe house has baseboard heaters, but Mom doesn’t turn them on unless she has to in order to save money. The wood-burning stove inserted into the kiva fireplace does a good job. Even after the fire dies down the adobe walls radiate the warmth of the fire. The glow flickers around the room and onto the pages of the book I’m reading, The Hobbit. It’s Mom’s old copy that she found while organizing the garage.
“Don’t you think you need to do your homework, Anah?” She’s eyeing me from the other side of the couch, peeking over her romance novel. She’s at a juicy part and wants me to leave the room. She’s not concerned about my homework and has no reason to be. Her embarrassment is ridiculous, especially since I’m seventeen, practically an adult. Of course, she’s right. I should get to my homework, but I’m procrastinating. Homework is so boring.
“I’m almost finished my chapter.”
I get a text from Sophia. “What u get for #9?”
“I didn’t start yet.”
Mom looks over her book again. “Do you have to text right now?”
“It’s on silent.” I debate whether to leave the warmth of the fire or go to my cold room away from my mother’s surveillance and her choice of reading material.
My cell phone buzzes again. Mom’s big blue eyes glance over her book. “Anah, do I need to confiscate your phone?”
“It’s Sophia with a homework question.” This time it’s actually Tim asking me again what I’m doing this weekend.
She turns the page. “It’s distracting.”
I shut my book a little too hard. "I’m going to leave you to your book. Sorry for the distraction.” I put the blanket on her. “Here, Mom. Enjoy your book.”
“I’m sorry. I’m feeling edgy, I guess. You don’t have to leave.”
“That’s okay. I was going to my room anyway.”
My mother is younger than most of the other moms at my school. People often ask if we’re sisters. She was only eighteen when she had me. She stares into my eyes sometimes in a sad way remembering my father whom I’ve never met. No pictures of him exist. Apparently he up and left, and she hasn’t heard from him since.
Tim impatiently texts again, “hello!? Ru gonna answer??” I turn off my phone and toss it on my bed. Tim was my boyfriend last year in the eleventh grade. He broke up with me because, he said, he was too busy to be in a relationship. Bullshit. I knew he was lying. He was actually interested in Lori, a senior. I never saw them together; it’s just a feeling I get. Like when I was in Ms. Thompson’s class one day. She was having an affair with Mr. Brunswick, the band teacher. There was no talk or physical evidence. I just knew, and I really don’t know how. It was confirmed one afternoon when I caught them in the band room totally going at it like rabbits. I was looking for Avin, the boy I tutor for math, who’s usually working on his composition. Hearing a noise in the far back room where Mr. Brunswick stores instruments, I opened the door. They stopped and looked right at me, and I stood frozen. When I left the room, they proceeded as if I was never there. They looked right through me!
Mom calls them, ‘my tricks.’ That’s why she was so uncomfortable with me in the room while she was reading her romance novel. I can listen in, if I want, to what people are thinking. But I haven’t done that in a long time.
I finish my calculus homework in a matter of minutes, seventeen and a half to be exact, as I look at the clock on my bedside table. 10:10. Still early. I don’t get tired until at least 1:00 am and even then, many times, I don’t sleep. It’s more like lying in bed with my eyes closed. Out of habit, I check on Mom and find her asleep on the couch. I put the lid back on her sleeping pills, cover her with the blanket and put another log in the wood-stove. I pluck a little pink pill off the couch and replace it in the bottle. I guess I’d rather it be a bottle of spilled pills on the couch than a glass of wine. I wonder briefly if she’ll be okay when I go to college. I hate the thought of her being here alone without me. She’ll have to adjust just like I will.
When I set the pill bottle on the coffee table I notice a small notebook open to a list of consecutive numbers written down. All the numbers have been crossed out except for the last two, 179 and 180. I look at her curiously as she lies asleep on the couch.
I Wanted to Fit In
I park in the school parking lot ten minutes late, which means I have to go to the office and sign in. The faculty treats us like infants. I can hardly wait to get out of here and go to college.
I stayed awake until 3am finishing The Hobbit. I’m envious of the world Bilbo lives in, full of creatures that were once a part of earth with dragons and real adventure. My life suddenly seems extremely boring. I guess I could have gone to college this year since I was accepted early at Stanford, but I wasn’t ready to leave Mom. I’m all she really has.
I enter the classroom for first period, and the teacher is handing out the history exam. A-. I normally get perfect scores, but it drew too much attention. Was I cheating? Was I in the wrong grade? I started to look like some freak. Now I make mistakes to blend in with the other students. The teachers no longer feel uncomfortable or inferior around me. My tenth grade math teacher started to become suspicious of my mistakes, so I learned how to craft better mistakes.
“Pssst…Anah,” I hear behind me. It’s Tim. I don’t want to cause a scene by ignoring him, so I turn around.
“Forgot to charge your phone again last night?”
“No, I forgot how to text,” I say sarcastically.
“There’s a cool band playing at The Club. Wanna go?”
“It depends,” I say with reservation.
“On?” He uses his pencil to scratch his head.
Going out might be good for a change. “Okay. I’ll go. But only as friends! In fact, don’t come get me. I’ll meet you there.”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s cool. Tonight…7 o’clock.”
“Can I bring Sophia?”
“Okay, sure,” he says as the bell rings, and we file out of the classroom into the flooded hallway with students.
I’m waiting for Sophia in the hall at the usual spot before we go to calc. She’s an attractive brunette with blue eyes. Her dad left when she was only two. Something we have in common.
“Hey!” she says with her beaming smile. “Tim was totally asking about you this morning.”
“Yeah, I talked to him already. Which reminds me, do you wanna go see this band tonight?”
“Yeah! Electronic Gypsy’s playing. I was going to ask you, actually.”
“Tim will meet us there.”
Sophia gives me a reluctant look. “I don’t want to be a third wheel.”
“You won’t be. Trust me! We’re just meeting up as friends. I’m tired of moping around the house while my mom reads romance novels.”
“I’m tired of it too.” She links her arm through mine. “You need to get out more, but do you think she’ll even let you go?”
“My mom doesn’t like me out late, but I’m sure I can get her permission. Don’t worry about that.”
Sophia smiles satisfyingly. “Cool. I guess I’ll go.”
Collided
I’m looking for something cool to wear, but I’m not sure how to dress for a psychedelic gypsy concert. My phone buzzes. Sophia has sent me a picture of what she’s wearing. I rummage through Mom’s closet. She’s at the Roadrunner where she works, a small local restaurant right off the interstate. I’m relieved she didn’t give me any problems about my plans.
Man, she has a lot of clothes that I’ve never seen before, like this suede vest with red silk on the back. This black dress could work…or this cool leather jacket. I’ll wear it with jeans since it’s too cold out for a dress. I top it off with some boots, check myself out in Mom’s wardrobe mirror and tie my hair up into a messy bun. Not too bad.
Something tells me that Mom is getting ready to call, so I look at my phone in anticipation. My phone buzzes.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Did you leave already?”
“Not yet. Why?”
There’s a long pause, and I know what she’s about to say. My blood boils.
“I don’t think you should go out tonight.”
“Mom.” I take a deep breath, “It’s totally fine. I’m going to be with Sophia and Tim. I’ll be back before you’re even done at work.”
“Okay, but don’t talk to any strangers.”
“Really? Mom, I’m not a child. It’s perfectly fine and safe.”
“Nothing’s perfectly safe, Anah.”
“Please, Mom, don’t worry so much. I’m going to be in college soon, you know. You’re gonna have to get used to my independence.”
There’s silence on the other end of the phone. She can’t win this battle. Not this time.
I bite my tongue. “Okay then. See you soon.” I hang up disappointed that we had to have that conversation again. She’s gotten a little better about me going out with my friends, but she’s always been overly protective of me. If she had someone other than me in her life maybe she wouldn’t worry so much. She doesn’t want me to end up like she did,— a young, pregnant teenager. Her parents died in a car accident a few years before she had me. They were hit by a drunk driver. Her mom’s best friend took her in. She was a senior in high school when she dropped out and got a job. When I was two, she found a sitter so she could work nights. Her name was Miss Bee. She smelled like mothballs and weighed two hundred pounds. When I heard her thoughts, she was cynical and negative and very jealous of Mom because of her beauty. I would pretend to be asleep in my crib and anxiously wait for my mother to safely return home. She would kiss me goodnight and say, ‘I love you, Anah.’ She was sad, and I was the only thing that kept her going.
The Club’s big parking lot is full, so I have to park down the street. The line of people waiting to get in stretches around to the back of the building.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket with a text from Tim. “Hey where ru?”
“jus got in line”
“Meet us at door. Have tix”
I find them easily, and Sophia and I hug the way we normally do. Tim hands me a ticket. “Thanks, Tim. How much do I owe you?” I smirk. “Remember this isn’t supposed to be a date.”
“I know. Don’t worry about it. My dad got me the tickets.”
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot your Dad’s the manager of the radio station. Don’t let me forget to thank him.”
“You look great, by the way,” he says as his cheeks redden.
“Thanks.” I smile enjoying a little attention, but I tell myself to keep my emotions secure.
Sophia whispers in my ear, “I knew I was gonna be a third wheel.”
I don’t have a chance to respond to her because Tim’s dad introduces the band over a loud speaker, and the audience claps and cheers. The band members look theatrical, like they’re about to perform a play, wearing top hats, and suspenders with pinstripe pants. I like what the girl wears, a short black frilly skirt with black mesh tights and combat boots.
I stick my hands into the pockets of the leather jacket and feel something in there. I pull out a ring. Mom must have left it in there and forgot about it. I slide it down my index finger. It’s amazing! The silver metal coils around three times with a lava red stone that actually seems to glow. I’m unable to make out the intricacies, so I decide to go to the bathroom where there’s more light.
“I’ll be right back,” I say loudly into Sophia’s ear so she can hear me over the music.
She and Tim are really enjoying themselves, dancing and singing. They obviously know the songs. She nods her head in response.
I push my way through the dancing crowd toward the bathroom, looking down at this little piece of treasure I’ve found. As I turn the corner to the bathroom I bang into a very large guy. I look up and freeze. My heart trembles. He’s gorgeous. He wears a thin, black, well-fitted sweater.
“Excuse me.” His deep voice makes me blush. He looks down at the ring on my hand. The orange and red glow of the stone reflects in his eyes.
I feel tongue tied. “..…Uh… sorry.”
He places his hand on my arm and there’s a tingling sensation. “I should be less reckless.”
I wait for him to go around, and I open the door to the girl’s bathroom. That was a little weird.