A Savage Life

“Here we are, the refugee encampment.” Readoldd remarks.

We come to a great big chain-link fence wall with electrified, barbed wire dazzling the top. I can see beyond the chain-link wall, and the place really looked like a trip through 1605, with teepees, wigwams, and small cottages for housing. Dotted somewhere in the center, I do believe there will be a saloon....or pub. The people hustled around, doing various chores and living life kind of the way they did a long time ago. Dressed as pilgrims and Native Americans and various other stages and cultures from a long time ago. But what really caught my eye was the sign. Drum roll please:

A big, neon sign reading: “The Gadget Enslavement Camp.” (“What a wonderful name for a refugee camp,” I think. “I bet anybody here who enters this place feels real comfortable. I know I do.)

I give a whistle and was ready to say something, but that was before Damien’s screeching distracted me.

“What,” Readoldd hollers out. “What’s going on?”

“It’s another one of his episodes!” I’m spitting venom now as I watch Damien drop Sasha and run off into the distance like a lunatic, screaming about his name. I see a fallen tree nearby, pick up a thick limb from it, and I catch up to that lunatic, walking, and whack him hard, knocking him unconscious.

Readoldd, with Sasha in hand, sprints over to me, looks at Damien, and squalls, “What have you done?”

“Don’t worry, I haven’t killed him, yet.” I tell the alien as I wipe the angry snot from my nose with my arm.

Readoldd looks at me as if I’ve gone crazy, clutching Sasha, and I hold out my arms to hug the crying girl. Readoldd let her go...with hesitation....

I shush Sasha and look at Readoldd. I can’t tell if he’s trembling, or just in shock at what I’ve done. And believe me, I’ve had that reaction from a lot of people, like that moment I told my brother I was in the mob. Or that moment I set off fireworks in one of my best friend’s house before he got shot trying to rob a drugstore. Or with any violent act I’ve committed and people had witnessed. I don’t think the guy that tried to mug Lana ever tried that stunt again when I got through with him, and luckily, nobody reported the assault. Not even the man I assaulted!

I look at him and awkwardly say, “Do you have any sunglasses, we can just pretend he’s awake.”

Readoldd blinks at me and retorts, “You have such a vivid imagination. But we can’t go in there until he awakens. I do not wish to be mistaken for a murderer, or in my case.... surrounded by lunatics.”

I take a deep breath, knowing that now it looks like I’m a serial killing loon on the loose (but I assure you I’m not (But probably will be in the next two months if left here)), and quietly tell my alien friend, “Readoldd, I’m sorry. If you would have had to put up with that nuisance screaming and running away and just being a useless pile of crap, I would not blame you for my actions. I hope this doesn’t look too bad on behalf, does it?”

“In all honesty, yes.”

And I was expecting that.

And thus we waited about thirty minutes for Damien to wake up, and he did... screaming as usual. And there was my saving grace there to calm him by putting his hands over his mouth and shushing him till he shut up. Magic. I can promise you, if I ever did that, I’d probably be mistaken for a kidnapper and taken away in handcuffs. I guess it’s because I look and sound gruff, while Readoldd’s blonde hair looked as soft as a child’s blanket, his greenish blue eyes as wispy as a cloud. His skin looked so soft I could use it as lotion. He was clean shaven as a human, and had an average build with long legs. The kind of man you’d trust with your life based on looks alone.

Damien sat down, panting and then looked around. “Where are we?” he asks.

“The Gadget Enslavement Camp.” Readoldd explains.

“Why are we at a refugee camp?” Damien replies.

Am I seriously the only one who notes the fact that the words enslavement and refugee have two very different meanings here? Apparently the future needs a dictionary. Or a trip to middle school.

“I’m coming here is to stay and wait on my people, if they have not already arrived.” Readoldd explained.

“So we drop you off where, and then we leave?” I ask.

“No,” Readoldd answers. “You two are staying because you took care of me, and a descent of my people. We want to reward you the best way we can.”

“Reward?” I stutter.

I really don’t want a reward. I haven’t really done anything to deserve a reward. And I hate taking this from people, not to mention the impending fact of giving the wrong handshake at the wrong time and starting an intergalactic war between Iciga and Earth. With my luck, I’ll insult one of them and have my brains blew out of my head and my body harvested as an example. Maybe I can sneak away? Maybe?

“One worth more than the stars.” Readoldd said, his eyes asparkle.

“No thanks.” I promptly say.

And Readoldd’s world stops. He looks on in defeat, and then droops, like a flower without sun. “How sad.” he murmurs.

“Well, let us proceed toward our original intent then.” Readoldd said after a long pause passes between us all.

He picks up Sasha and starts carrying her to the camp. I look at Damien, and he doesn’t look at me until he’s stood up and dusted himself off, a bit of blood running down his head. A feature I’m now catching and now fear I may have beat the sense back into him a bit TOO hard. He then wipes the blood away with his hand and says, “I may not know who you are, but I think we better follow that guy, whoever he is.”

And he trots after Readoldd and Sasha, with me right behind him.