And They Wait

“When do you think they’re coming?”

He had an arm wrapped around her as she lay on top of him in their tree. He rubbed his fingers up and down her arm and replied with, “Soon, darling. Soon.”

She sighed deeply and snuggled against his porcelain chest that matched her own skin.

The two lay in their tree 2,000 feet above the ground. It was made of thick, white and black vines rather than the brown bark they heard stories about. They’ve heard plenty of stories about the forsaken land they were all forced to go to at one point. There were traps everywhere, so even if a Porcellerian went into hiding, they would be found immediately.

The sky in the other word was blue rather than the blush color in Porcelleria and the grounds were covered in material called grass and cement. The couple have never seen cement in person. According to the stories that surfaced, it was hard and broke skin if one fell on it. Cement was nowhere near the plush bushes that covered the grounds of Porcelleria.

“There are rumors that they breathe oxygen over there,” she said.

He was still rubbing her arm. “Oxygen?”

She nodded. “Such a poisonous toxin.”

“I wonder if they keep it clean for themselves,” he said. “Do you think it’s as pristine as the helium we intake every day?”

She shrugged. “I hear they’re messy creatures over there.”

They could only hear of such things. New information was overheard from the Tinted Ones every time they arrived. Porcellerians, the couple’s own kind, could never confirm if any of these things were true. Once they were taken by the Tinted Ones, they never returned.

The couple lay in the tree waiting for the Tinted Ones. They have been coming for years now. Possibly ten. Possibly twenty. The inhabitants of Porcelleria have lost count. At one point there were over 5,000 of them crawling through the bushes and jumping from tree to tree. Now there were under 100 of them. The Tinted Ones usually gathered up to twenty at a time. The couple’s turn was inevitable and they knew it.

“What do you think living on a different planet will be like?” he asked, gazing at the blush sky. Black clouds streamed across. He wondered if there would be another gas storm that night. Would they be there to see it?

She shrugged. “Hungry?”

He nodded and his sweetheart pounced off his chest. She took a hold of a vine and swung her porcelain body towards the trunk. As she climbed, he watched. Her hooked fingers and disposable big toes grasped onto the trunk as she climbed fast enough to make it seem like she was slithering. Her body was bare. Everyone’s was. Only the Tinted Ones covered themselves with cloth and glass around their heads. Their skin was white but not what the Tinted Ones considered white. Theirs was white as in porcelain white, like the crayon someone stole and hidden in their archives. Black lines slithered across their bodies so they could camouflage with the trees. Nobody’s lines had a specific pattern. His ran horizontal across his back and face. Hers ran vertical and circled around her eyes. When it came to their torsos, legs, and arms, the black lines were all crooked and fell whichever way they pleased, as if they gained them in a fight and the black lines were the scars that remained. They all somewhere connected to one another, never leaving a crack in the path they created along their bodies.

After a minute of climbing, she perched herself on a branch surrounded by purple fruits the size of her fists. Her long, black hair sashayed behind her as she gathered the fruit in her arms. Her black eyes darted back and forth. Black, because unlike the eyes of the Tinted Ones, the eyes of Porcellerians lacked irises.

He continued to watch her. This is what she was doing when he first met her. Two years ago, as he was crawling through the bushes on his feet and fists, a gred fell in front of him. There was a bite mark in the purple fruit and sweet juice seeped out of it. He looked up and there she was. She had one too many greds in her hands, and many were toppling out. He decided to try to help her so he jumped onto the tree and began to climb. He was only one branch under when she noticed. She gasped loudly and nearly fell off her perch. Before she could fall, another Porcellerian jumped down and caught her. The Porcellerian was the same height as he was, but the stern face told him this newcomer was her father. Once she was perched upright again, her father turned to him.

“What? Who are you?” her father had barked.

He bowed. “I noticed she need help. I came to offer some aid.”

Her father crossed his arms as a scowl etched its way onto his face. He had her hidden behind his back. She still managed to poke her head out and stare at the Porcellerian on the branch under her. Her eyes were wide, innocent.

Back in the present, he smiled. It took a while to convince her father that he wasn’t out to get her. Eventually he was able to help her bring the gred to her den. She never talked the entire way there. The only noise she made was a small thanks as he turned away to leave.

She was suddenly back on their branch with an armful of greds. He took a bite of one and let it rest on his tongue. The sweetness of the fruit warmed his mouth. The Tinted Ones had tried greds once. Porcellerians overheard them saying it tasted like a mixture of bananas and apples. He didn’t have a clue as to what any of those were.

"Do you remember the day we met?” he asked in the mist of chewing the crunchy fruit.

Her lines darkened, and looked like black holes against her skin. He’d seen something similar with the Tinted Ones, only it involved their cheeks turning red. A small smile was on her face.

“I was scared of you but extremely nervous as well,” she said.

He sat up and she curled against him. “You didn’t say much when we first met.”

She chuckled. A spot of purple juice was at the corner of her lip. “But don’t forget I’m the one who made an effort to find you.”

It was his turn to smile. This was true. Her father’s defense had been quite off-putting. In truth, her father frightened him. He figured she would have to go through and arranged marriage like most Porcellerians so he stayed away.

“I found you in this tree if I remember correctly,” she whispered.

“Yes, you did,” he replied.

He was sitting on a much lower branch at the time, but it was this tree nonetheless. Their current branch was so high that anyone who roamed the bushes looked about an inch long. But from the branch she sat on that day, he saw her perfectly the way she was. He woke up to her rustling in the bushes and before he knew it, her beady black eyes were staring up at him.

“You didn’t say anything at first,” he said. By now he had closed his eyes and let the slight breeze that had started tousle his hair.

“I was horrified,” she said. “I’ve never talked to anyone of the opposite sex before. My father forbade it.”

“Did you sneak out to find me?”

She nodded against his chest. “At least I tried. I didn’t make it very far before my father caught me. He screamed at me to get back inside but I refused to listen.”

He began to rub her arm again. By now they had stopped eating and the leftover greds sat at their feet.

“You were that curious?” he asked.

“Mmhm. I was desperate to see the majestic creature that helped me carry my greds home. The same man who helped me into his tree.”

She hadn’t learned how to climb as well as other Porcellerians yet so when he invited her up, she slid down the trunk of the tree. After two times, he slid down and threw her onto his back. They stayed like that for the rest of the way up the trunk and to his branch.

“What did we end up talking about?” he asked.

The breeze had picked up and was blowing her hair away from her face.

Her eyebrows creased, showing her struggle to remember. “Well, I sat away from you on the branch. I curled up into myself and just stared.”

“Wide-eyed,” he added. “You had your knees pulled to your chest and your face buried in them. Except for your wide eyes.”

“Oh no. How long do you think I stared?”

He chuckled. “A few minutes. I broke the silence by saying hello.”

“And what did I say?”

He scratched his chin while looking up at the sky. “I don’t think you said anything. First you kind of jumped in surprises and then after that you twiddled your fingers.”

She covered her face with her hands. “Oh no. I was awful.”

He smiled. “Nah. Just shy. You eventually did say hello.”

Chills ran up and down his spine as he remembered. Her voice was like a sweet song one hardly ever got the chance to hear. It was high-pitched, but it also wasn’t low enough to belong to a full grown adult. She looked down as she said it, and it was mumbled into her knees.

“But then I asked how you were. If there was a corner to cower into, you would’ve done so.”

She laughed. “I was a mess. I was so scared. I don’t know why I even bothered if I wasn’t going to say anything to you.” She looked up at him and stroked along his chiseled jawline. “But I’m glad I did.”

He hugged her closer. “And I’m glad I eased you into talking.”

“I actually don’t remember the exact conversation.”

“Hmm. I don’t either. But you did come back the next day so it must’ve been interesting.”

She smiled and looked across the land in front of her. Yes. It must’ve been. They had a history of long, interesting conversations. Whether it was about how greds grew, trees were made, or the Tinted Ones. She liked his ability to talk forever and get others to talk with him. After all, that was what he had done with her. She remembered wanting to bolt from him the day she first sought him out. If it wasn’t for his gentle hello, she probably wouldn’t have stayed and therefore not be here with him. He was the first to ever ask how she was since her father couldn’t care less. He was the first to take her on adventures. It was because of him that she saw the orange water and it was because of him that she was able to break in to the archives and look at items stolen from the Tinted Ones. He was great at sneaking around and eavesdropping so he knew a lot of information. He told her about utensils, what computers were, how many Tinted Ones belong to an important system called School, and that some even have animals live with them. He explained to her that their skin is tinted because their blood makes them that way and some Tinted Ones have more than one child at a time. He talked about diseases. She learned about the blood that courses through the Tinted Ones’ veins and that they all didn’t have the same skin tone, eye color, hair color, height, and more. Even their fingerprints were different and used as identification: the equivalent to the Porcellerians’ lines. They were nothing like Porcellerians, really. Sure, each Porcellerian had a different face from the other, but other than that, they were essentially all the same.

She loved his gentle hands the most. After a month of knowing each other, she finally let herself cry in front of him. She couldn’t tell you why she was crying, but she remembered the way his sad, shiny eyes looked at her. For the first five minutes, he made no move. Just stared as she wept into her hands. Then suddenly, she heard a soft, “Hey.” When she looked up, his arms were outstretched towards her. She crawled into them, snuggled against his chest, and continued with her waterworks. Meanwhile, he caressed her hair, moving his fingers slowly through the strands. They made their way to her back, sending shivers throughout her body but still giving her a warm feeling. He traced along her black lines while whispering soothing words in her ear. That was how he had held her for the next two years and even now.

He looked down at his sweetheart and followed her gaze. It was a beautiful sight indeed. The bushes and trees rustled with the breeze that was growing stronger the more that time passed. The sky was still blush and the black clouds have stopped gathering.

He asked her what she was thinking about.

Her fingers began to trace the lines on his wrist. “You.”

He smiled. He was thinking about her. He loved her shy nature and even the tranquility in her speech now. They hardly ever argued. He loved to watch to climb. She had gotten so much better at it since the day they met. She listened to what he had to say and even when she disagreed, she sat patiently and heard him out. She wasn’t one to refuse to give her input too. The longer they’ve known each other, the more she would talk as well. She let him teach her about the Tinted Ones and she let him take her on adventures. She brought him on a few of her own too. She showed him the abandoned dens and old Porcellerian artifacts that haven’t been touched in centuries. He loved the way she curled up against him, feeling like he was there to protect her from whatever evil awaited them. There were times when she held him as well. She did so the rare nights they made love and other random moments. Her small hands always traced his lines, tickling his skin.

He loved her for saving him.

It was only a year ago when he decided to go for a crawl in the bushes. All was quiet. He was alone since she was visiting her father. He was taken by surprise with this attack. Usually there were warning signs. Not this time. He never even heard them land. He was looking for goonberries in a bush when gloved hands grabbed his body. He kicked and screamed, but the Tinted Ones never let go. Five carried him away, all in white suits and glass spheres that covered their heads completely. A strange metal container sat on their backs, and that was where he figured they kept their breathing element.

They dragged him and other Porcellerians through a path they created. All Tinted Ones walked on two legs instead of crawling on all fours. Their fingers and the strange material over their feet didn’t look great for climbing. So they walked. They dragged the Porcellerians into a white den that he had never seen before. Before he knew it, he and the other Porcellerians were thrown into a cage and the door was locked.

The Tinted Ones were in another room when she came in. she snuck through the opening as soon as it closed. He forced himself not to scream her name. She tried to run over, but the den seemed to lift up and it knocked her off her stance. She had to pull herself towards him and the others with only her hands. He stuck his hands through the bars to help her up. Others did too. As they held her in a standing position, she stuck a thick piece of branch into the lock. The door opened silently. One of the other Porcellerians got the opening to the den to open. Unfortunately, that wasn’t silent at all. it caused the five Tinted Ones to come into the room screaming. A machine at the end of their hands shot out what seemed to be fatal rocks. Once it went through the skin, you were dead.

She pulled him by the hand to the opening. Before they could leave, a fatal rock pierced through his shoulder. He cried out in pain as it seared through his body like fire. He wanted to collapse but she held onto him. The white den was close enough to a tree for her to jump and catch a nearby vine. They clung to each other as they did this, making his pain worse. Nonetheless, they made it to the ground. By now he was crying in agony. For the next two weeks, she tended to his wound, never leaving his side and hiding him whenever there was another attack.

Back in the present, he had to hug her tighter with one arm and grip the branch with his right hand. She wrapped both arms around him as her hair whipped violently in any direction it pleased. Their branch bounced, knocking the leftover greds to the ground. Whenever he noticed her slipping, he wrapped a leg around her to keep her with him.

Piercing screams were heard from the bushes and neighboring trees. The couple spotted other Porcellerians going into the hiding spots they knew were tainted with some kind of spying gear. The couple knew there was no use for hiding.

“Do you think it’s inevitable at this point?” she yelled over the wind.

“Yes,” he said. “They won’t give up until they have us all.”

“Why do you think they want us so badly?”

“We’re new to them.”

“Do you think we can live in harmony?”

He shook his head. “Rumor has it they don’t even live in harmony with their own kind.”

A flying white den was spotted in the distance. They would see fire at one end but nothing was there to see how many Tinted Ones have arrived. Her breathing had become haggard as she waited for something to happen. He stared at the white den, preparing himself.

Finally, a door opened and three glass spheres and three pairs of gloved hands appeared. They all had the machines he remembered from his misadventure. The Tinted Ones aimed them at different areas, trying to find a target. More white dens started to appear and they began their searches in different areas.

“I wish there were enough of us left to hide and have a chance,” she said.

“Me too. Their technology has gotten more advanced though.”

Suddenly, a red dot appeared on her forehead. Another appeared on his. Although they were far enough for the Tinted Ones not to be able to see them with their own eyes, these different machines must’ve gave them a signal that a target was found. The white den moved closer. Whenever the couple moved, the dots moved with them.

“How long will we have to wait?” she asked.

He shrugged.

“I hope life in their planet isn’t that bad for us.”

“I’ve seen some of their books in the archives. They keep us in tanks and do strange experiments on us. And remember that those who have already gone have not come back.”

Her mouth set and her eyes bore into the slow white den. She hugged him tighter, burying her face in his chest. "I hope they keep us together while we’re there.”

He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and caressed her back one last time. “Me too, darling. Me too.”