Midnight Disaster ~FINALIST Watty Awards 2012~

Chapter 13 (Revised 4/14/2019)

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," I replied to him finally. "Honestly I don't know what else we can do."

He sighed. "You know we can't avoid Clarissa forever if that's what you meant."

"I know, I know," I said. "But for now, she's not trying to contact us, and we don't have to contact her. We push this off until we absolutely have to deal with it."

"That's true," he said though I could tell that the problem still weighed on his mind. "But we don't know how soon the next time she tries to talk to us will be. What if there's another firework show that she wants us to go to or something?"

"I know and while that worries me, it's really a problem that can be saved for the future. For now, let's just focus on the problems we actually can solve," I suggested. "We'll feel better at least accomplishing something."

"Like what problems do you mean exactly?" Cameron asked.

"Let's try to figure out something that he will eat," I replied.

"Okay, we can do that," he agreed, face slightly relieved.

I watched Cameron go, hoping he could find food that wouldn't result in another screaming fit from Miles, and turned back to see what the alien was doing. Miles was consumed in poking his memory foam pillow, watching with rapt fascination as his finger print stayed longer after he removed his finger.

"Ready, Maya!" Cameron called from the kitchen.

"Okay!" I called back.

I took a step toward Miles. "Hey, let's find you something to eat." I reached my hand out to him, and he grasped it easily, eyes flashing with an unreadable emotion.

When we emerged into the kitchen, my eyes doubled in size. Cameron had laid out a buffet of various food across the table and on the counter. Miles' eyes ran from one edge of the line of food all the way down to the other. I wondered if anything caught his attention, but before I could ask, he stared at Cameron as if the food had already lost his interest.

I let go of his hand, and he turned to me questioningly.

"Okay, we're not really sure what it is that you ate on your home planet, but we're sure that by now you're feeling hungry," I said to him.

He nodded and looked thoughtful. "A little."

"Well, you need to help us figure out what kinds of things you like so that we can help you," I said. "Go over there and pick around and tell us if anything looks good or sparks an interest in you."

He blinked, eyebrows knitting together as if he was uncertain of the offer. After a moment of silence, he stepped toward the table, head flicking from side to side as if he couldn't decide where to start. Cameron backed away to my side, and I took the time to observe the options Cameron had given him. There was bread, cereal, a bowl of leftover spaghetti, a few pieces of pizza, an unopened steak, and a few other things that had cluttered the pantry and fridge for who knew how long.

Miles passed the bread and cereal without wasting a second, but I couldn't say I was surprised. He sniffed the spaghetti but didn't stop and passed by the pizza without a second look. Nothing else caught his attention, and he kept moving. My heart deflated a bit, and I pondered what else we could try feeding him. Then, he reached the edge of the table and hovered over the package of bloody meat. He stopped, licking his lips, and even from here I could hear the deep inhale. I was about to speak when he kept moving, facial expression giving nothing away.

"Was it just me or did he seem to have a particular interest in the meat?" he whispered in my ear.

I nodded. "I noticed it."

"If he's a carnivore, then what exactly is he capable of killing?" he asked me, and the question resonated with me in the way a scary movie does.

"He didn't try to pick it up. Maybe that means he doesn't like it, I don't know."

At the sound of our whispers, Miles turned to us.

"So what do you think?" I asked. "Does anything look good to you?"

He glanced over his shoulder again at the assortment of food before he shook his head.

"Did you like the steak?" I asked, gesturing to the package of meat.

He shook his head. "No...smell bad."

"Hmm, maybe he didn't like the meat after all," Cameron muttered, and I could tell he was torn between believing Miles and his actual reaction a few minutes prior.

"I guess not," I whispered, and then I turned to Miles. "What did you eat on your home planet? Was anything here even close?"

He shook his head, and his eyes flashed again like he was thinking of something that he didn't want us to know. I sighed and looked up at Cameron to see if he had anything to offer.

"I don't think he wants to tell us," I said to him.

"Apparently not," he said back. "So much for this being the easy part."

"Can we at least have a hint?" I asked Miles.

He stared into my eyes but said nothing. I knitted my eyebrows together, and he broke the stare, glancing at Cameron as he made his way to the hall and disappeared into Daniel's room. I frowned.

"Why can't he just tell us?" Cameron asked, his question mirroring my thought.

I shook my head. "I have no idea, maybe he's embarrassed."

"Whatever it is, he can't hide it forever," he pointed out.

"I guess we just wait til he gets hungry enough," I said.

He nodded. "We should clean all this up before Lilliana notices."

"Good idea," I said moving over to the table. It was the perfect timewaster though it did not take my mind off the alien, and the way he had looked at the steak.

When we finished, Cameron sighed, running his hand through his shaggy hair. "This is a lot of work," he said.

"What is?"

"Taking care of Miles. At first, I thought it would be cool, but now? I get it, why you were so hesitant last night."

I sighed. "Yeah, but it's too late to reconsider now. He's here. I promised I would keep him safe, and I don't take promises lightly."

"Yeah, but it's my fault you had to make that promise."

"You didn't think we'd actually find an alien, Cameron," I pointed out.

He shrugged. "No, but still. I feel guilty."

"Well, don't. That helps nothing."

"Fair enough," Cameron said, lifting a finger to run along his chin. He glanced down the hall before looking back at me. "He's been quiet for a little while now. Should we check in on him?"

I thought of the look in his eyes as he had departed the kitchen before I slowly bobbed my head and began to walk, Cameron at my side. For once, he used the same calm pace as me. We weren't challenging one another for dominance as walked as equals toward Daniel's room. For once, it wasn't a competition because we were in the together.