Page 26 of Stranded with the Alien
“Injury?” Ryle asks. He’s watching more of our home videos on my tablet, learning words based on the conversations the crew had. “Hurt?” He points to my head. I feel a bump where I was struck, but I‘m basically okay. No concussion.
“Not hurt,” I assure him, but he leans over and brushes his fingers over the lump, anyway. Then he runs his fingers through my hair. I don’t want to think about how greasy it is - there's been no soap or showers on this journey. But he doesn’t seem to notice or mind. “Gaow,” he says. “Nice. Pleasant. Good.”
“You’re a fast learner,” I say, and he beams.
“I learn!”
Wow.
“Good!” I say. “Amazing!”
“Maysee eat.” The turtle smells done. It’s getting black along the edges. Good enough?
“You too,” I say, “Ryle eat too.”
He leans in and kisses my head. “Ryle eat too. More walk. Long walk.” His fingers brush my cheeks. “Yes?”
“Yes,” I sigh. I kind of don’t want to, though. I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of the day in this little pocket of a cave with him. Wouldn’t mind it at all.
