Kate A Hardy : Home
Books and audio
About
Blog
Paintings
Email
Instagram
©2024 Nick Lockett - photographyadditional images by Kate A Hardy
ML web design
P007 → Jez
Adapted from the short story, Dog; from Dog, and other tales. 2018
An alien arrives on Earth in Epping Forest and makes his way to shelter in a woman's shed. Assigned to study humans and report back to his planet he instead falls in love with the shed-owner and becomes marooned. His presence on the planet slowly but surely changes everything for mankind.
An extract from Jez. Our alien hero is slowly learning about Earth objects, and Earthlings behaviors
Bath
It seems this body does not regulate temperature during shutdown. I am cold on re-animation and stand up unsteadily, thinking of warm, liquid immersion; something I did enjoy, before the pod time.
I walk stiffly to the bathroom. The elevated pool feels cold to my touch, colder even than my hands. Looking up to the small window, I see white flecks falling and accumulating. They gradually block out the grey above.
I turn the metal wheels taps, and water appears: heated from one, chilled from the other.
As I rest in the water, my mind works, piecing together the desired current language, geography, Earth science and Earth history. There are still gaps; I see them as locked boxes. One of the biggest boxes has a label: Religion. Maybe Ruby will know about this as her aunt lives with Dog.
The skin on my fingers has become baggy. Maybe I should get out from the water; the skin layer might eventually part from the bones. It is good in here though. Relaxing is the word that presents itself. Musical notes form in my mind. I think of an orchestra and start to sing.
Voice
I like this so much that I stand and try out all the modulations, tones and possibilities. Jars and bottles rattle. The water surface undulates against my legs.
As I reach the top note that I can see – blue with shimmering edges – the bathroom door opens. Ruby stands with the open-mouthed expression again. She has dropped her bag. Water trails from her eyes.
I stop the singing and the sound continues, flailing itself against the ceramic wall squares.
Taking a cloth from a pile, I step out and wrap my lower half.
“Forgive me, did my phonic experiment alarm you?”
She says nothing but steps forward, even lunges; grasps me and fastens her mouth to mine. Hot colour swarms in my head. My tongue dances in her mouth as her hands slide over my wet skin.
She pulls away suddenly. “Oh . . . I don’t know quite what happened. Sorry.”
I think about this gift. “So, that was a kiss?”
“It was . . . but I don’t usually go about seizing and kissing people – well, at least not without knowing them for a while.”
I pull her back to me. “Would you mind if we did it again?”