The Woman Who Fell To Earth

Chapter 6

Mars

The next morning, Art awoke with a start, and nearly jumped out of bed, scrambled to the doorway to peek in the living room, to make sure David was still there. She was, sitting up, a glass of milk in her hand, a cup of coffee on the coffee table. He didn't want her to see how desperate he was that she was still here, so he quietly went back to his room to shower and dress for work.

As David had only hand-picked the one outfit, Art dressed the same as he had the night before in the navy blue slacks and yellow sweater vest. He had to admit that with no hair to mangle and shape, his morning routine was cut in half. He tried to coolly enter the living room, but his heart leapt in his chest whenever he saw David.

"Morning," said Art as casually as he could.

David looked up and smiled. "Good morning. Don't you look smart. I made coffee."

"Thank you." Art walked into the kitchen and poured himself a mug. "I can pick up more milk on the way home," he said. "Is there anything else you'd like?"

"Milk would be brilliant," she answered. "Maybe some gin."

"I'll see what I can do." He looked through the cabinets and refrigerator, making a mental grocery list. "I'll be gone until after 5. Will you be okay here, alone?"

"Yes, of course," David answered.

"And you'll be here when I get back?"

"I will try," she answered.

Art didn't like that. But what could he do? He didn't own her. He scribbled on a piece of paper and brought it to David. "Here's my work number and my cell in case you need to call me. Call if you need anything," he stressed.

"Don't worry so much about me," said David. "I'll be here as long as they don't take me back."

Art couldn't tell whether or not she was joking. He faked a chuckle. "I'll be back as long as they don't keep me there," he played.

Art took the train to work as usual, but not per usual, he took notice of the people around him, how certain people who traveled the same path every day developed travel relationships with each other, friendships that shared confidences, confined to the ten, twenty or thirty minutes in the metal tube. Now Art wished he had done something other than read the newspaper on the way to and from work. How he longed to tell somebody about his supernatural weekend. Had it only been four days since he last sat on this train? Four days since he sat in the small office at Duncan Manufacturing, filling out forms, taking phone calls, avoiding meetings? How could it have only been four days? It felt like four lifetimes, four reincarnations.

As he stepped off the train and took the steps to the street, the sunshine shone down like a spotlight on him, showcasing him like he was the star of the day. He walked tall, a smile on his face, looking at the faces of the passersby in his wake. Some smiled back, but sadly, Art noticed most were like he normally would have been, sullen, eyes cast down, avoiding all manner of human contact. How sad, how tragic what had become of humanity. Didn't they know the power of companionship, of a human touch, a look, a smile? Of course they didn't. Arthur didn't. Not until now. To think he could have ended it without even knowing how wonderful, amazing, life-altering companionship could be! God, he wanted to grab these sad saps by the lapels and shake some sense into them! Stop being alone; stop fighting your nature. We evolved to depend on one another. We need each other. For Christ's sake, look up at me when you pass me on the street. A little nod, a wave, a short hello.

He willed a few faces to meet his, a couple of nods, a "good morning." As he approached the manufacturing plant, he saw a coworker, a young man he'd shared an elevator with for two years. They never spoke, preserving the elevator's code of silence on the ride to the third floor. Today, Art thought, he should take the stairs for the exercise, but didn't want to miss this opportunity for human interaction.