The Ill-mannered Door (humorous sci-fi)

8: Bury the Hatchet

It turned out that the large unshaven gentlemen weren't slavers after all. They weren't even pirates. Well, the jury was still out on Mr. Slipper Thief and Crown Boy. I wasn't talking to them, but the others weren't a bad lot overall, just in need of a shower and maybe a shave. Perhaps a pedicure, though I really couldn't say for sure as I wasn't entirely certain what a pedicure was. Those happened in nail salons, which resided in strip malls, and the whole thing honestly looked and sounded rather dodgy, so I hadn't gone anywhere near one.

In any case, being sold into slavery and eventually becoming the captain of my own pirate ship was off.

There also wasn't any room for me to sleep in the hold of the ship, so I was given some coils of rope and told to make the best of things on the deck. The day just kept getting worse, and I sulked right through lunch, dinner, and well into the evening.

As I lay back on my makeshift bed of coiled ropes on the ship's deck, the clouds that had moved in during the afternoon began to clear and the stars came out. I couldn't help but stare up at them. They were beautiful. Breathtaking really, on that clear night, but completely alien as well.

The problem is that they weren't Earth's constellations. I couldn't recognize any of them and, being a scientist, I knew all of them like the back of my hand. There was no Three Star Belt Guy, or the Pie Ladies, or even the Big Cup-Thingy (the scientific term) to be found anywhere!

I did make out one that looked like a cow in a two-piece bathing suit on a summer holiday, but I quickly moved on to try to find other, less disturbing, constellations.

This all worked to remind me that I was on a completely alien planet, who knows how far from home, and without my slippers.

I was beginning to slip back into the welcoming arms of my sulk when I heard an oddly familiar voice in the darkness say, "Shame about the slippers, eh?"

"Come again?" I said to the darkness, trying to hide my surprise.

"Yeah, they were nice ones, eh? Warm, cozy. Soft too. Real shame."

It was then that I recognized the voice: Slipper Thief! How dare he come 'round to rub salt in my wound!

"Look, I didn't come here to rub it in. Just thought we could put the whole thing behind us. Bury the hatchet, you know?"

Oh, yes, and I knew right where I wanted to bury it too!

"Stars are freaking you out, eh? Did that to me too my first night. Can't even find the Big Dipper, can you?"

I gave him nothing but an annoyed sniff in response.

"That's because it ain't there. Not our stars. Not our sky. Not our planet. Whole 'nother world, is what it is."

"I want them back," I muttered, arms crossed.

"Not gonna happen, my friend. King's got 'em now, and he's an oddball if I've ever seen one. And I've seen plenty, let me tell you. Goes around in his PJs all the time! Real loon, you know? Oh, uhh, sorry," he cleared his throat before continuing, "Anyway, done deal, man. Kiss 'em goodbye."

"I want them back," I said again, though this time with a little more oomph.

"Ain't gonna happen, so I thought I would bring you these," Slipper Thief said, dropping something at my feet with a plop.

"What are they?" I asked, peering into the darkness.

"The king's old slippers. He left them on the deck earlier, so I figured you might want them."

"Eww, no!" I said, pushing away those mobile dens of sweat and fungus with my foot.

"Beats going barefoot everywhere from here on out."