Dry Heat

Callista and Perry

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 by Nicole Collingwood

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            On Eumenides, there are no clouds, only a sky the color of fresh lavender. As I sit at my desk, I try to remember the scent of it, but I can’t. I still have the memory of washing in the tub, wet and soapy, my mother fashioning my hair into the Eiffel Tower, but I can’t remember the scent of the lavender shampoo she used. I glance over at my little goldfish, Aura. Her scales shine under the diminishing sun as she swims circles in her bowl. Sitting beside my desk is my spathiphyllum, Peace Lily. It was meant to help with oxygen circulation within our pod, but I like to think it was meant to be a gift for Eumenides, a thank you for letting us stay. Sometimes when I feel most lonely, I consider giving the plant a name, but my hope hasn’t strayed that far yet.

            It’s seven AM back on Earth. I say goodbye to Aura, and walk to the airlock, stepping into my clear space suit. Eumenides wasn’t always the most exciting place. They allowed us each to bring some of our favorite television shows, movies, and books, however, after so many views, these things aren’t really our favorites anymore. Now I like to explore, it’s the only way I get to see anything new.

            I walk to the rover den, a heavy plated dome that I fastened to a rock outcropping a month or so after landing. Stellar winds are stronger here than on Earth. Our only mistake was half-preparing for them.

            Eumenides is vast, four times the size of Earth. I’ve been exploring for half a year now, and have hardly seen any of it. There are mountains to the south, taller than any I know of on Earth, and to the west there is an ocean. That’s where I’m headed.

            I drive and drive. The temperature lowers near the ocean. Huge chunks of ice drift over the still waters. The shore never changes; it stays unnervingly calm and only ripples under the stellar winds. The longer I’m on Eumenides, the smaller and more ignorant I feel. 

            I park the rover and walk to the water. Under the surface it looks like ink. It’s almost completely clear, the darkness comes from the rocks and sand. All the sediment on Eumenides is black. But the surface of the water reflects the same purple of the atmosphere.

            “What are you doing out here, Callista?” Perry asks me.

            It’s a relief to see him, just to hear another human being speak is a blessing. He’s leaning against the rover, stripped of his space suit, wearing only a onesie, like the one I’m wearing beneath my suit. 

            “Where’s your protective suit, Perry?” I ask him.

            “You don’t need one either, you know. You could take it off right now, and be free like me.”

            I run my hands along the plastic-y suit. It reminds me of the raincoats I wore as a child, thick and artificial.

            “You know I can’t,” I say, “There’s too much carbon dioxide in this atmosphere.”

            “I feel fine,” Perry shrugs and smiles mockingly, then walks to my side, “Do you ever wonder what they think happened to us?”

            “They know we landed, that’s all that matters.”

            “Then why haven’t they come yet?”

            “They’re coming,” I reaffirm, mostly to myself. My relief from before is quickly disappearing, chased away by his heavy words. I look out at the water, longing to throw myself into it.

            “They think we’re dead.”

            No matter how a conversation started with him, no matter what I said, it always ended up the same way with him. When we entered Eumenides atmosphere, we crashed right into the stellar winds. Our communication with Earth was cut off.

            “I don’t want to talk to you if you’re going to be like this,” I tell him.

            He doesn’t answer and I know he’s gone. Back to roaming the planet alone. He’s probably seen more of it than I have now.

            I sit in the gravel and pull my knees into my chest. Sometimes I wonder if they chose the right couple to send here. Our desperation had been too strong; I know they didn’t think things through. Perhaps a couple more adept at the scientific side of things would have done better, would have made it farther. They assured us everything would be automatic, no manual labor required. Perhaps I should be angry with them for acting so hastily that they forgot to think of a plan b for us. Or maybe I’m just being unfair. There are worse things to worry about on Earth.

            I sit at the beach for hours before returning to the pod. Once I get back inside, I feed Aura and prepare my evening meal. We also have a garden den; a dome that houses the plants we have grown in Eumenides soil. So far, I haven’t found any native plants, maybe it’s just too windy for anything to survive without protection. But the soil is fertile. Sweet tomatoes ripen daily, and we have some of largest cabbage heads you’ll ever see. Soon I’ll even be crafting Aura’s food. One of my favorite things to do is watch her eat her fish flakes. My mind slows when I watch her.

            “I went to the beach today, Aura,” I tell her, taking a bite of my veggies, “I know,” I say, “My time could be spent more efficiently.” I glance at the electric calendar hanging on the adjacent wall. It’s been a year since we crashed on Eumenides, and one day here is two weeks on Earth. “But I want to enjoy my time.”

            Aura swims back and forth in her bowl. I take a deep breath and try to smother the discontent growing in between my bones and muscles. I think of Perry, and wonder where he is and what he’s doing. He never shares where he goes, or what he sees. If only he weren’t so negative, perhaps living on Eumenides wouldn’t be so difficult.

            I always try to remember him as the man who I met Earth. He always sang. When I teased him about it, he only did it more. He still had some fat on his face then, his eyes were so wide and youthful. There were nineteen other couples sent out like we were, the final desperate effort to save the human race. I never realized how much trust was put in us until we had already failed. Maybe some of the others did better than Perry and I. Maybe they already had children, and were planning to meet at the most suitable planet.

            Our extra flight pod was destroyed along with our radio system.

            “I wonder what the others are doing,” I say to Aura, “Hopefully they’re okay. Maybe they think of me too.”

            The worst thought I have is when I worry that maybe Perry and I just aren’t important enough for them to find. Even if they did know we were alive, what reason would they have to save us when the entire human race needed saving?

            When I go to bed, I feel worse than usual. I wish Perry would come back. I need someone else. I lay in my bed with the light on. It glows orange on my bedside table. Whenever I lay in bed, I feel like I’m in a shadow box, on display for the darkness. I clench my fists, squeeze my eyes shut and beg my mind to let me sleep easy for once.

            A hand rests on my head, and I open my eyes. Perry is sitting in the chair he must have pulled up to the side of the bed.

            “I’m sorry,” he says.

            “It’s all right,” I reply, grateful to see him just when I needed him most. I curl up tighter, pushing myself towards the edge of the bed and closer to his body. It’s strange to long for safety when we are the only two people on the entire planet.

            “Look after me,” he whispers, “And I’ll look after you, right?”

            I nod, my eyes close with ease, “Right.”

 

            In the morning he is already gone. I sit up, and walk back into the main pod chamber to look out the window. I hate that I’m searching for something new on the horizon, a ship come to rescue me. I hate that it’s the last sliver of hope I have. No matter how many times Perry said sorry, I always know deep in my heart that he’s right. They aren’t coming. And I can’t even blame them.

            I walk to Aura, and dip my finger into her bowl, “The only reason I’m here is for you.”

            She looks at me, her eyes blank and misunderstanding. I like to pretend that she pities me. It will be easier to leave her if she does.

            Again, I put on my clear suit and leave the pod. Today I won’t go far. I want to see where our ship crashed.

 

            “We’re entering the atmosphere,” Perry had said, the ship shaking.

            I took his hand into my own and squeezed it. The ship jolted as it slid down towards the ground. It jolted again when the chutes opened, and we started to slow.

 

            I see the ship come into view on the horizon. It’s a large silvery bump sticking out of a giant crater. My chest tightened, and I look up at the sky, cursing them for doing this to us. They should have done better. They could have done more. I hate them for orchestrating it. I hate myself for not being smarter, and for not taking better care of Perry.

 

            When our ship was halfway to the ground, the stellar winds hit. Our ship lurched over onto its side and the parachutes ripped off, sending us spinning. I had shut my eyes, waiting for it to end, but Perry took my face in his hands, and told me to look directly at him.

            “Look after me, and I’ll look after you,” he promised, his voice tense and urgent.

 

As I near the edge of the crater, I can see the splintery base of the ship that got torn apart from the landing. The loading doors are still gaping from where I removed the supplies for the pods. The path of blood from where I dragged Perry from the ship has darkened, but I can still see the burgundy stain. When the ship finally landed, the metal exploded inwards and a shard crushed the left side of his body, from his shoulder down to his belly button. I haven’t been to his grave since the day I dug it.

            “Why did you leave me?” I ask, wishing that I felt more resentment towards him. It would be easier that way.

            Of course he isn’t here to answer me. Surely, he’s somewhere on the other side of the planet, seeing things I will never reach on my own.

            “I wish you knew what it’s like for me,” I say, “I wish I knew what it’s like for you.”

            “Then join me,” Perry replies.

            “I can’t,” I answer.

            “Look after me, and I’ll look after you, remember?” he asks, walking to my side, and taking my hand, “I meant that when I said it.” He looks down into the rocks, “You didn’t?” It wasn’t a question really. It was a statement, and accusation.

            I bite my lip, “Don’t hurt me.”

            “They don’t need us,” Perry says. “You wouldn’t have to be alone anymore. You wouldn’t have to name your plant.”

            I take a deep breath, “I already did, I’m calling it Phyllo.”

            He grabs my shoulders, turning my body away from the grave, “Callista, please.”

            “You aren’t real,” I tell him, trying to look back to where his body was buried.

            He quickly grabs my cheek, and pulls my face back towards his, “This is me, look at me.” He takes my hands and touches them to his chest, “Me.”

            I take my hands away and rub my temples, “They’re coming, Perry, they’re coming today.” I blink and he’s gone. “You’ll see,” I cry out.

            I look at the blood again, remembering the sound of his body pulling away from the metal, then dragging over the rocks. My throat was sore for weeks after from crying. I sneer at it and rush back to the pod.

            I spend the rest of the day watching out the window, waiting for something to appear. Nothing ever comes. Eumenides would have been a good planet for us all if only the others had the chance to be told. Maybe someday, they’ll come. Maybe the garden will survive on the self watering system and they’ll have some food waiting for them.

            I go to bed that night, praying to be woken from my dreams, to see someone outside of my pod, someone other than Perry. But morning comes and there’s still no one. I rise and go to my desk to eat my oat cereal. I spend a long time staring into the sun, willing for anything to change, for there to be some sign. Sometimes I see a black spot, but realize that it’s only because I’ve been staring for too long. I look down at Aura, and jump backwards, my cereal spilling onto the table. My hand flies to my mouth as I conceal my scream. Aura is floating delicately on the surface, her gold scales still sparkling under the red-dwarf’s light.

            “At least you still have your plant.”

            I growl in anger, and reach forward, my fingers wrapping over the edge of Aura’s fish tank. I spin around and throw it as hard as I can at Perry. The glass smashes against the wall and water spills onto the floor. Aura is lying on the floor. I immediately go to her, and take her in my hand. My eyes sting and my throat swells.

            “Look after me, and I’ll look after you,” I hear.

            I hold onto Aura and walk to the airlock. I enter the code and step in.

            “Take a deep breath as you go,” Perry says.

            I take hold of the lever, and breath in, then open the airlock.

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