Nikki's Song Pt. 3

A hand came up to Sophia's face, hesitant. Her fingers curled, as if she had to cover her mouth but couldn’t, and then, she screamed. It was a blood-curdling, ear-piercing, wail of recognition. She knew now, exactly what was going on. That she now had some sort of extra sensory ability she’d not been born with. Extra Sensory Perception. ESP. More than that, I knew… and she… she’d been the one thinking she was going crazy…

It’s okay. You can feel my thoughts.

"I... I can read your thoughts… but… you can't read mine!" She exclaimed shaking her head. It was true. I hadn't heard anything she'd thought. Only what she’d said. The connection was one way only. "I’m so sorry Daddy! All this time, all this time I thought… I thought… I thought you could tell what I was thinking, and I thought I was going crazy!"

I blinked. I lowered my voice. By now, there was an audience of people and trick-or-treaters who wanted to see what the crazy guy and his daughter were doing, standing in a ditch, soaked to the bone. "Wait... since when? When did you start hearing my thoughts?"

“The… the day, the day before I called you on the radio! You said you were half-way across the Atlantic," Sophia answered. "You were doing something in the water and then... it was like a switch was turned on. Everything you were thinking was just... pouring in. You wanted to get home. You wanted to see me… hear my voice. I... I went down to Freddy’s like you said and got on the radio to make sure everything was okay, but... I couldn't just tell you cause, it would seem crazy, right?"

"Right," I said, turning around and considering the audience we had. I turned back to Sophia and pointed at my mouth again. Let's go inside. say something loud like... you burned your hand on the stove, but you'll be fine.

“Oh my gosh! I burned my hand! That hurt! Good thinking… Daaaad! My hand doesn't hurt that much now…” Sophia did her best and sounded mighty convincing as we headed back up the embankment, across the road, and back up our short driveway. As soon as we got inside the house, Alaya was standing there, towels in hand, telling each of us to go wash up in the two bathrooms and to be quick about it. She would handle the tricks for the treaters.

(Boy did she ever.)

I, uh... I remember I took a hot shower. I pulled a dead water strider out of my hair. Yuck, I know. I uh… I dried off, got dressed for bed, and I think I went right to bed. (Haha. Kind of. Yes, he did, but he left out a lot.)

(I’m putting this part in here because he won’t. He’s too embarrassed.) Right after being dunked in the water, the connection became like, ten times stronger. I wasn't just feeling what dad was feeling, or getting these little twinges of feeling or thought like I kind of knew what he was thinking. No, it was full on mind control. I actually had trouble walking through the house because every time he turned to look at something else, I got dizzy. It was like I was living inside of two people at the same time, me and him.

While dad was in one shower, I was in the other. Thankfully they’re laid out the same. After I grabbed the wrong shampoo, I realized I’d need to be a bit more aware of what my reality was, and after that, I did kinda just go on auto-pilot. Dad washed up, and I let his thoughts kinda control my arms and legs. It was fine all the way up until he got to the nether regions and then… Well, look, I’m not trying to be a perve about my dad’s showering, but… people are going to want to know. And unless we want a hundred thousand questions about it, it's better to just spill the beans!

So. He washed his biological parts, and since I don't have those parts, it was just kind of this weird puppet show with my hands, and no puppet. NO he did not pleasure himself. He just washed things off and then got out. Now this is where it gets weird.

Dad gets out of the shower and goes to his room. I’m having trouble not following the exact same routine. For one, I have more hair and needed to dry it, and I wear a towel completely different. Needless to say, I end up in the front room with a towel wrapped around my waist.

Alaya looks up from the couch and is just staring at me like, “what’s gotten into you?” She gets up to help me and I have no choice but to tell her what’s going on. Amazingly, she just accepts it like, it's a normal thing. Happens all the time in Africa after rituals and celebrations. No biggie. I’m just kinda like, okay. Great. Just help me get to bed please.

So, I get into bed, and she helps me into a night shirt and tucks me in, asks me if I need anything. She's being like, super nice and super understanding. She tells me to close my eyes and get some rest if I can. I tell her I don't know if I can, but I’ll try. She reaches over and grabs hold of my hand, and… it's like instant relief. The thoughts become muffled a little bit, and she lays down on the bed next to me and smiles. I open my eyes and we just stare at each other, whispering about how weird this Halloween has become. She giggles and tells me everything in America is weird. I can only imagine.

There’s a knock at the door. More Trick’or’treaters. Alaya tells me she has to go play more tricks on them and I see a mischievous smile on her face. She tells me to close my eyes and get some sleep. She’ll listen in case I need anything. Just call for her. I nod my head and close my eyes. She let’s go of my hand. Instantly, I’m inside my dad’s head again. Or rather, his thoughts are overwhelming mine.

I watch in silence, through his eyes, fighting to keep my arms and hands from doing the same thing his arms and hands are doing. He throws on pajama pants and a sleep shirt. He realizes he hasn't really eaten but maybe one bite of dinner. He feels guilty that I cooked such a great meal and he didn't eat. He doesn't want to disappoint me. He goes out to the kitchen, to our little dining room nook, and sits back down at the table. His plate is untouched and cold. He doesn't care. He sits down and eats.

I can feel every thought. Every emotion. I can even taste the food he’s eating and feel it going down my throat. It;s easier to just go with the flow than to try and fight it. I’m in a movie theater, trapped, eyes wired open, forced to watch, and experience everything he does, everything he is. Everything.

Alaya is at the door, laughing. By hearing alone, I can tell she’s throwing hand fulls of candy at the boys and girls passing our house. Dad smiles. Then he thinks Alaya is a very nice friend… then he thinks he's wrong. She's not a friend. She's a student. He’s confused. He, I, we, really don't know her. He hasn't even vetted her yet. For all he knows, she could be a sociopath. He decides he needs to ask her a bunch of questions, just to get to know who she is, and get a better understanding of how this exchange student thing works.

Alaya closes the door and sets the empty candy bowl on the end table before locking the door and putting the chain across. She looks at my dad and smiles. “Safety, yes?” she says.

“Yeah,” my dad says. He takes another bite, chews, swallows. Alaya walks over to the couch, taking long swaying steps as she does, and then she turns around and sits down. She stares at him. He stares at her. “So, you're from Africa, huh?”

“Oh, yes,” Alaya replies. “Would you like to know a’bout eet?” she says in a thicker than normal accent. My dad nods and says he would. Alaya rambles off a list of things about Africa, like she’s doing a grade school book report. “Africa has a large population of one point three-four billion people. They are one of the fastest growing countries with a very high number of children and youth, but a very low life expectancy. The mortality rate is very high. Not many people make it past the age of fifty.”

My dad thinks her responses are strange. I don't know but… it sounds like she did her homework. I don't know if that’s my thought, or his. He doesn't care about the demographics, the geography, the statistics or population numbers.

“How are the sunsets?” He asks.

“The best in the world,” she says smoothly. “On the African Serengeti, the sunset fills the sky with the most vibrant colors of yellow and orange, gold and amber. Even better are the sun rises. It is the start of every day. The days are hot, the nights can be… cold.” She raises an eyebrow at my dad, as if she's asking an unspoken question. He feels uneasy, but thankful I’m not in the room to see her act like this… No. I’m not in the room. I’m IN HIS HEAD.

He stares at her for a little bit longer. He thinks she looks a bit too old to be a high school exchange student. More like… a college level exchange student. He takes another bite of fish. He asks her about fish and she rattles off some more statistics. He asks her what kind of fish she prefers, and she says tuna, or cod, but she eats it all. Any ocean-food. I find that funny. My dad nods, and then processes the information. Ocean-food? Why… why doesn't she say seafood? Unless they just don't say seafood in Africa…

Dad finishes eating and stands up. He takes his plate to the kitchen, washes it off and puts it in the drying rack. He turns around and tells Alaya that the couch is a pull out sleeper, and there’s a remote for the T.V. on the table if she wants to watch something.

Alaya stands up and steps out of her boots in one smooth motion. She's like a black panther with white spots. She reaches down and grabs her dress, mid thigh, and pulls it up over her head, and off. My dad is frozen in place, which means I’m frozen in place too. Unable to close my eyes, flinch, look away… nothing. I scream, but it’s inside my head. Nothing comes out of my mouth but a weird gurgle. My lips won't work.

Alaya turns around and kneels onto the couch, her stark nakedness and the large white sections of her skin, prominent on her belly, the insides of her legs, her chest and other parts, stand out with startling contrast. She lays down sideways, draping one leg over the other, still facing my dad, and props her head up with her hand and an elbow, staring at him. “Are you going to turn the light off… or are you going to watch me sleep?” she asks.

I… I want to scream. I want to shout at her, call her a whore, ask her what in the hell she thinks she’s doing??? I don't get a chance. My dad never moved so fast before. Before I understand what’s going on, he’s spun around, turned the light out, ran down the hall, and went to his bedroom.

I can't control my body. My legs flip around like I’m having a god damned seizure. I fly out of bed and land on the floor hard, my legs and arms still moving like they have a mind of their own, only it’s my fathers.

Not until he gets into bed and isn’t moving around, am I able to do the same thing. I’m dizzy. Exhausted. I feel nauseous. Images of Alaya’s nakedness burn into my brain. Dad tries to think of other things. The boat. His crew. His truck. Different home projects that still need completing. Alaya needs a blanket. He envisions her again, only… in much more lurid positions now. God men are disgusting.

It’s pure agony knowing what someone else is thinking. It’s worse when it's your own father. I don't wish it upon my worst enemy. When people sleep, often they don’t remember their dreams. I know I don’t. But my father’s dreams… I remember them. Every one of them. Weird, twisted, shocking. I have to remember that his dreams are not reality. More-so, I fight with myself every day to realize, a person has no control over their dreams. They don't choose what happens, although, I have to give him credit, my father did his best to direct his thoughts in a general direction that would lead to something mild and non-traumatic… it never worked though. Still, I give him a C minus for effort.

November 1st, 2001. When my dad got up to go to work, he stopped in my room and asked me if I was okay, to which I replied, absolutely f-ing not. There was no way I was going to school. Fuck Thursdays. He laughed and sat down next to me, but a moment later, when I was ready to vomit because of the insane sense of vertigo, he decided it was time for him to go to work.

I watched, through his eyes, as he walked into the kitchen and found Alaya standing in front of the stove, cooking. She was fully clothed again, thank god, and was busily frying up some bacon and scrambled eggs. Before my dad could say anything, she turned and shoved a plate into his hands. “You must eat first,” she said, and that was that.

Dad ate as quickly as he could, literally shoving the food down his throat, and then left without saying bye. As he walked out to the truck, I felt the connection between us diminishing. Oh thank god, or so I thought. I realized quickly, the connection dimmed to a specific amount, and then, stayed at that minimal level, all throughout the day. If dad did something without thinking, like turning the wheel sharply or hitting the brake, so did I. Emotions and feelings, thoughts and decisions were diminished, but not entirely gone.

As I stumbled out to the kitchen to confront Alaya about her behavior the night before, I found myself turning an imaginary steering wheel with my hands, kicking the corner of the wall at the last possible moment, and singing Bob Dylan, which, I don't really much care for. (Sorry dad.) Alaya was loving it.

When I finally regained enough composure and most of the pain had left my toes, I turned to Alaya and asked her just what in the hell she thought she was doing. Her answer was shocking in it’s innocence.

“Cooking,” she said. “I cooked eggs… and bacon. I made you some. Please sit down. Eat.”

My dad did something which caused me to pull my arm out to the side and then whip it forward, as if to slap Alaya, which was NOT what I had in mind. I was actually mortified that my body did such a thing, but Alaya side stepped me easily and then grabbed my shoulders from behind and gently guided me over to the table.

“I… I’m sorry! I didn't mean to-” Alaya paid my words no attention, and acted as if nothing had happened. She sat down kiddie corner from me and motioned to my plate before reaching down and grabbing a handful of scrambled eggs. I grabbed my fork and then threw it across the room. I sat up and tried for the spare fork, but knocked it off the table and onto the floor on the opposite side.

“Stop doing what you normally do. Do it different. New. This way, you must concentrate.” Alaya reached down and grabbed a piece of bacon, rolled it into a ball and then popped it into her mouth. She stared at me, waiting for me to do what she told me to do. I was having trouble processing what she’d said, so she repeated herself. “Do it different. Eat with your hands. I will not tell your father.”

I decided to give it a try, and a moment later I was scooping scrambled eggs into my mouth like a crazed starving person, and I was. I was going crazy and I was starving. Alaya got up and brought the pan of eggs to the table and I ate them right out of the pan.

When I was finished, I awkwardly wiped my fingers off with some napkins, but I wasn't ready to go back to bed just yet. I needed to get some things off my chest. “Why did you strip down in front of my dad?”

Alaya turned her head a quarter of a turn and stared at me for a long time before answering. “You can see what he sees… Since… Yesterday? …in the water.” I nodded in confirmation. “I… I am sorry. I do not know why I did that.”

“What, do you have the hots for my dad or something?”

“I… I do not know. Life is much different here, than in… Africa. Life is much much different…”

Instantly I was thinking of all the issues she must have had to endure in Africa. A young woman in Africa, with this different skin pigmentation… The HIV epidemic… Child and woman rape that goes on… She must have been an outcast, just waiting to get away, hoping to get the hell out of there the very first moment she had. Anywhere would have been better than where she was. A sinking feeling had me and I found myself asking more awkward questions.

“You weren’t one of those child brides, were you? Kidnapped? A child soldier bride?”

“No,” Alaya answered quickly, “but I am older than most other girls… girls who would already be married and have children of their own.”

“You’re not that old,” I laughed. She was like my big sister.

“Old enough,” Alaya countered. “Females, where I am from, usually have their first child when they are fifteen. Eighteen at the latest. I am twenty-two already.”

Twenty-two. Instantly I thought, holy shit… all this time and we could have been drinking, having a great time… But no. I probably wouldn't have done that anyways. But it would have been cool to know that I had the ability at least. I smiled. Besides thinking she had some weird-instant crush on my dad, and that she felt she was long overdue to pop out a kid of her own, I still couldn't piece it all together. I knew a girl in school who had a kid. Her mom stayed home and babysat so she could keep going to school.

“How are you still in school?” I asked, thinking this was all very strange indeed. Strange and fascinating.

“We stay in school until we are much older. And it is common for young and old to be… in the same… school.”

“Oh my god. Did you go to school with your mom and dad?”

“Yes, actually. My mother and father are both in my school.”

“Even now?” I asked, realizing they must have been in their forties or fifties if this was the case.

“They… they are both teachers,” Alaya said with a wry smile.

“Oh my god,” I said, laughing. She really had me going for a minute there.

“You look tired,” Alaya said then, giving me a quick look from toe to head. “Do you need me to get you anything?”

I blinked repeatedly, and then batted at something beside my head that wasn't there. A bug? A stray hair? With that bit of a reminder that I wasn't fully in control of my faculties, I stood up to go back to bed. The next moment, I found myself on my ass, on the floor, having simply bent over and sat back, as if there was a chair behind me to catch my weight.

I moaned in pain as Alaya got up quickly, coming to my aid. “Hold on. I will get you,” she said. To my surprise, she picked me up off the floor, as if I was as light as a feather. With arms that were stronger than I could have ever guessed, she carried me back to my bedroom. I, red faced and embarrassed, did my best to seem appreciative and composed.

Once in bed, she asked me if there was anything I needed before she left. I shook my head, but then asked her if she could refrain from getting naked in front of my dad again. She smiled and said she would try but, she would not make any promises. We both laughed at that, but as soon as she closed my bedroom door, I got the distinct feeling she was again being more honest with me than I wanted her to be.

With the connection between dad and I diminished to a specific degree, I was able to fall asleep, but my dreams were fitful and filled with weird instances of fisherman and garbage scows, sailing preparations, and the occasional imagery of Alaya in her birthday suit. Still, I slept until just before my dad got home, at which point Alaya had taken care of almost everything in the house that I’d been neglecting.

I could smell what I dared not open my eyes and see. Fresh linen meant the laundry was done, and she’d even used the fabric softener I liked so much. A floral scent indicated the dishes were washed, again, by hand. As I crawled down the hallway I noticed the carpeting was vacuumed, the baseboards were even wiped down, the tiniest hint of dust or lint, gone. The amount of effort Alaya had put into the house while I was sleeping was… astounding.

As I entered the kitchen on my hands and knees, I found the floor was mopped, the counters were cleaned, the tops of the cabinets were re-organized. We didn't get a lot of visitors to our house, most of dad’s relatives lived too far away and since my mother’s passing, not a lot of her side of the family came to visit, or call, ever. I supposed it was a good thing because my dad always said when relatives come over, the first thing they try to do is rearrange the cupboards and make everything like it is at their house. I chanced a glance up at Alaya, just to make sure she wasn't my Aunt Nancy, or Uncle Thomas.

As I struggled to get into my chair, I opened my eyes and saw that the top of the refrigerator was now covered in groceries, cereal, bread and snacks. Alaya had gone to the store, and from the delicious smells coming from the stove and oven, she’d cooked dinner as well.

Dad pulled into the drive way, and got out of the truck. As he moved, my body wanted to do the same thing. Reluctantly, I fought the urge to slide out of my chair onto the floor and then casually air-walk as my father made his way to the front door.

“What in the heck are you doing?” Dad asked me as I struggled to keep my arms and hands on the table in front of me.

“Staying in my own head,” I said, and then I sat up, arrow straight, and closed my eyes.

“If you're that sleepy-” Dad began.

“I am sleepy, but not… no.” I countered.

“She can see what you see,” Alaya said, sitting down quickly and looking back and forth between me and my dad. “Please sit down so she can relax.”

That was about the last time I had a lucid memory of my own, until the connection was broken. November 1st to... I think it was the 14th, right? Yeah, the 1st to the 14th. Two weeks of pure torture. Dad says it was the testing period. Hah. Okay, dad is going to take over for a while. I’ve gotta check the radar and swing us around for another pass.

Jostein Alexsander here. So, between the 1st and the 14th, we spent a lot of time testing our, well, your newfound ability. We tested it quite a bit. I would think of a bunch of stuff and then you would just rattle it off. God… Alaya was such a sneak, right?

(Yeah. But hey, you gotta fill them in on what was going on. It’s all about context dad.)

Alright. So, starting with the realization that Sophia could feel my thoughts, and I couldn't so much as guess hers, we tried to just live our lives, but after the second day, with the connection so much more intense and… it not letting up at all, we were forced to take drastic action. Sophia was bed-ridden, unable to do anything but lay there and feel what I was doing, thinking, even what I was seeing, day in and day out.

I tried to stay away from the house as much as possible. When at work, I tried to limit my activity, and do very short interactions with people, but everything was taxing on Sophia. Even me trying to relax and just watch the sunset, or the waves out on the water, was enough to keep Sophia completely engaged. Her brain just would not shut off. I constantly worried for her, but I had to stay at work because, I just had to. I couldn't just sit there, at home, knowing it was hurting her.

During this time, Alaya took care of everything. She brought Sophia warm washcloths and put them on her head. She changed the sheets and bedding, she did all the laundry. She did the dishes by hand, even though we had a dish washer. She kept the entire house in tip-top shape. She cooked, she cleaned, she went shopping. Much to Sophia’s dismay, she listened to Bob Dylan day in and day out. She brought in the mail… Jesus. Was there anything she didn't do? (Nope!)

Now, looking back at it, it was weird, and a bit embarrassing, but Alaya claimed to know exactly what was going on, and that it was common among her people. She recounted people going into trances, being possessed by dead relatives, being able to communicate over long distances without words. (Okay, I’m adding this in, on edit. It wasn’t just a little embarrassing. It was tragic! There are just some things that a daughter should not ever know about her father. Ewwww. Oh, he's gonna be mad about that one, I just know it.)

On the 15th of November, we lost the connection. Thank god, right? Oh, can you uh... can you bring in the lines and turn us around again? Thanks. (No problemo!) So, I'm going to power through this next part because we've a lot of work to do, and well, things aren't going to change themselves.

(I yelled at Dad, telling him to not bore you all to death.)

So, on November 15th, 2001, I'd just come home from inspecting the ship and making more preparations with the local fisherman, which I was doing pretty much non-stop by then. We were doing all sorts of campaigns. "Stop polluting" and "make sure you only use ecofriendly nets!" I was doing everything I could, and still within limits. "Catch and release as much as possible!" You know, anything to preserve the oceans.

Every thought I could muster about everything, Sophia got a copy. A hard copy. It was so bad in fact that Sophia could hardly think straight. (I can attest, it was pretty killer.)

I remember I came home, and as usual, Alaya was in the kitchen, listening to Bob Dylan and cooking up something amazing. Sophia was in the bedroom, I hate to say, completely incapacitated by my constant stream of thoughts. I… I was running myself ragged. And then it happened. (Yes, it did.)

I have to say, I had no idea why, or how, or for what reason. I should have figured a lot of things out sooner, but… how? How does someone just automatically know these sorts of things? Well, they don’t.

I came home. It was raining. I went right to the bathroom and I grabbed the towel that was draped over the mirror. Oh, that’s another thing. Alaya hated mirrors. We couldn't have a mirror that wasn't covered and she said it was because mirrors were a portal to another world… A fake world where everything is backwards, and you can't touch or taste any of it. I never really thought of mirrors that way.

So, I grabbed the towel, threw it over my head, and as I looked up, for a fraction of a second, I saw Sophia. Sophia, who was in her bedroom, screamed. I turned and rushed into her bedroom, thinking something was wrong. When I threw open the door, Sophia was just looking at me, this profound look of relief on her face. I sat down next to her on the bed and in seconds she was fast asleep. She didn't say anything but I knew, I knew what had happened. I think she slept for like… two days straight. (Yup. Two days, and then some.)

When she woke up, she told me how the feelings, her feeling my thoughts, had intensified so much, it was like she was living her life, through my eyes. When I went to sleep, she lived my dreams. It was pure torture. I don't know for how long, but she’d been awake twenty-four hours a day, for a couple of days straight. I know now, that can actually kill a person. It’s a good thing the connection broke. (Yeah.) So, the moment it stopped was when I looked in the mirror. I saw her. She saw me. There was some sort of mental break because, we both know who we are. The best way I can describe it is, we saw ourselves for who we really were. The truth of it. Our truth, and our thoughts, separated.

(It didn't break completely.)

I know. I’m putting that in here. So, the connection, even though it broke, it didn't break completely. Slowly, over time, we realized there were certain things we would know. We could tell when each other was not being truthful. We could tell each other’s moods, and I’m talking, like… one hundred percent. No doubts, no questions, no need to ask. We know. (Yup.)

But no more mind reading, and no more sleepless nights. (Mostly.) Don't start.

Alright, so… with the connection broken for then, we thought life was going to go back to some sense of normalcy, right? Well, for the most part it did, but there were still weird things that happened. No, not weird. Quirky.

So… Thanksgiving 2001. Awesome. Everything was awesome. We introduced Alaya to all our Thanksgiving traditions. She got to try turkey and stuffing, green bean casserole, sweet potatoes and fruit salad. Alaya showed off her cooking skills and made a whole bunch of dishes that we’d never even thought of before. Squid in ink sauce (I do not like that). Raw fish and shrimp with super hot wasabi. Raw oysters and smoked clams. I mean, it was all mixed in with everything else. It was all excellent but… weird, even for a fisherman which, by that time, I could call myself nothing but a fisherman. I never said anything because I didn't want to be insulting, and I knew quite a few weird people who did weird things, so I wasn’t going to just judge someone for what they liked to eat.

Christmas 2001 was also amazing, and weird. The harbor, pretty much everything was frozen solid, like a deep freeze. We spent a lot of time inside just watching Christmas movies and telling jokes, which was especially funny because Alaya never got any of the jokes, right? It was funny, but it was even more funny because of that. Alaya was now part of the family. We played board games, we sat and watched T.V. and talked about the news. I thought everything was as good as it could ever be.

(Okay, at this point, I could see Alaya was crushing on my dad pretty hard. She’d put her head on his shoulder, or hold onto his arm while we watched movies. I… Okay, I do it, but I’m his daughter. She did it, and at first I thought, okay, she's doing it because I’m doing it, and she’s just thinking this is what we do, like… standard operating procedure. But it wasn’t. I could see it now.)

Okay, so… in February… I want to say around Valentine’s Day, I came home and I was expecting to just come home and grab a bite to eat before going back down to the harbor. I walked into the bathroom and there was Alaya, with her arm in the toilet. Okay, that was the first indicator that there was something wrong. Her arms was actually IN the toilet, up to her elbow. There was no way to get it out. I had to actually get a sledge hammer and break the damn thing open, in order to get her loose. I asked her why she’d done it, if she’d dropped something in there and was trying to save it, etc. She had no excuse. Nothing. She never gave me an answer.

A week later I came home, and she was eating frozen squid. Frozen. I’m talking, right out of the freezer. I knew she liked seafood, and she was doing all the grocery shopping and staying within budget, and we always ate really good so, I didn't really think anything of it, but when I saw this, it was too weird. I started investigating. Snooping. Most of what was in the freezer, was seafood. The refrigerator too. Hmm.

I brought my concerns to Sophia, who insisted that was just Alaya, and she was a bit strange, but she was fine, you know… typical denial stuff. I think Sophia was just so happy she could actually function like a normal human being, and she’d gone back to school, and she was graduating with full honors, she couldn't have cared less about a broken toilet, or Alaya eating frozen squid.

Every time I spoke to Sophia about Alaya, it was as if Sophia didn't want to talk about it… in a way. I thought it was because she considered Alaya a good friend and thought I was just being an old stuffy. Alaya on the other hand, was never much for conversation unless you started it. She was… she was very protective of Sophia. Every time I’d say anything about her, Alaya was defending her, telling me that I needed to trust her to make her own decisions and decide her own way. She was the same way with me of course. She never told me what I could or couldn't do, but then again, it was my house, you know.

So, after the toilet and the squid eating incident, I asked Sophia how Alaya was doing in school. Surprisingly, she didn’t know. I assumed Alaya was just going to school with her, sitting in class together, side by side, like twins. Well, apparently that’s not the case. Sophia said she didn't have any classes with Alaya. Not a single one. Still, I thought that was strange.

One day Sophia asked her if there was anyone she needed to report to… a school administrator, or something like that. Alaya told her that she checks in with her guidance counselor every day, and that everything was perfectly fine. I asked her when she had to go back to Africa, and she said that once the year was up, she could ask for an extension and stay another school year, and in fact, she could stay the summer as well, if we didn't mind having her around. I cannot say that I wasn't excited to hear that, she was really being awesome but, I still didn't know what was going on.

But then, a week later, while going through college entrance offers, Sophia found a piece of mail that… slipped through? Or maybe it was sheer dumb luck? No. She wasn't screening our mail. It just happened to be in there when it was in there. Anyways, there was a letter from the school and in the letter it had this long drawn out apology about how they were sorry for having to disappoint us but, we just didn't qualify for an IES. An IES, in case you're wondering, is an International Exchange Student.

Sophia brought me the paper, and showed it to me. I said, “well, let’s call Alaya and find out what’s going on,” but Sophia said we should figure it out on our own. We didn't need to worry Alaya if it was nothing. I wondered why she might not want to tell Alaya about it, and Sophia said, she probably doesn't want to go back to Africa. She might be “seeking asylum” in the United States. Worst case scenario… she was now an illegal immigrant. I shook my head at the thought, but Sophia was right. We needed to figure out what was going on, without alerting anyone to the real reason.

So, the two of us, Sophia and I, we sat down, in private, and brainstormed the entire situation. What in the heck was going on? Did the school just mess something up? Was she in danger of being deported? We just didn't know. We needed more information and so we came up with a plan on how to get it. We started with the school.

After a couple well placed questions, and small-talk, we found out that all the exchange students for 2001 were coming from South Korea, not Africa. So… that was a big red flag. A huge one. So now we had to assume that Alaya was not from Africa, but from South Korea. That didn't make sense in some ways, but in other ways, it made total sense. She knew a lot about Africa, but it was technical stuff, or things she could have read. She wasn’t short, she didn't seem like she had the same South-Korean facial features, but without any hair and her unique complexion, who could actually know? Maybe she was ashamed of being from South Korea? There was a lot of anti-immigrant prejudice going around so I assumed that was what it was. She just didn't want to deal with that bullshit on top of everything else.

Armed with the knowledge that Alaya was most likely from South Korea, and that she was here in the United States, quite possibly illegally, we decided we needed more information. A lot more. In a fit of desperation, Sophia agreed to go through Alaya’s stuff. We both agreed, she wasn’t doing it to be a snoop, but we had to know what we were dealing with. The need to know was almost as strong as our want to not know. We were afraid that if we found something out, if Alaya was here illegally, or if there was some scenario that was even worse than that, it would turn our world upside down, but in the end, we figured that knowing was much better than not knowing.

In order for the plan to work, we needed a couple of things to happen. One, we needed Alaya to leave the house. Two, we needed Sophia to be at the house. Three, we needed me to be the lookout, in case Alaya came back for some reason. In the end, we figured the best way to make this happen was to have me take Alaya somewhere, under some false pretense, to give Sophia enough time to snoop.

Finding an believable excuse to get her out of the house for any extended amount of time proved harder than we’d thought, and because we felt so guilty about trying to pry into her personal things, we found ourselves putting it off, and putting it off, until finally, the perfect set of circumstances just kind of happened.

I have to say, just prior to the end, there was a lot of weird things going on which should have made both of us question what was really going on. Sophia agrees with me on this. The towels over the mirrors… we should have seen that, known that was a thing. Alaya had done that before we’d had our little episode and the psychic break. Also, Alaya had started to mention she needed to go to Baltimore, Maryland. Strange, right? When we spoke about it and when I questioned her about it, she said there was a bar she wanted to visit, but not until she had to go home. She was very specific about this. When it was time for her to go back to Africa, she had to go visit this bar… Murphy’s bar on the north side. I told her sure, we’d make it happen. She'd asked for nothing else… it was the least we could do, right? Maryland.

The end. No, this is really about it. It was mid June, 2002.

I’d finally gotten Alaya out of the house and left Sophia behind. I’d made up some excuse about wanting to show Alaya something special, and she seemed overly eager to join me. In her strange schoolgirl kind of way, she leaped to her feet and rushed out the door with me, clutching my arm and fawning all over me. I could tell Sophia was thoroughly annoyed by this, but it was a necessary evil.

I drove Alaya around town for a little while, aimlessly, as she questioned me repeatedly about where we were going, and what we were going to do. The more she asked, the more I felt like a reptile inside. I hated the deception. I hated not actually having a destination in mind, and then, I did. I turned towards the ocean and drove her right out to the beach. We parked and Alaya literally jumped from the truck and headed into the sand. Fifty feet from the water, Alaya kicked off her sandals and walked into the water until it was past her ankles, and then, she stopped.

“Is it cold?” I asked, taking my boots and socks off quickly.

“No,” she said, holding her hands close to her sides, as if hugging herself. “It’s beautiful.”

I smiled and walked up to stand a little bit behind and to the side of her, and stared out into the open ocean. A large blurb, a cargo container vessel, could be seen painted at the horizon and beyond that, above and behind, the sun glowed with magnificent beauty. Alaya glanced back at me, her eyes squinting against the suns rays. Sunlight played across her nose and lips like golden hued paint. In the shadow of such brilliance, I couldn’t even see the white splotches on the side of her head. She was magnificent. Beautiful. Majestic.

She turned back to the sunset and hugged herself. I felt the urge to reach down and grab her hand in mine, to hold it… to hold her… but I knew I couldn’t. She was Sophia’s friend, possibly an exchange student… I'd know more when I got home. I squinted and swallowed dryly. I forced the thoughts from my mind and inhaled deeply, just enjoying the moment for what it was. Eventually, the sun’s brilliant light dipped below the horizon and was replaced by a bright amber glow. Alaya turned around, a huge smile on her face.

“Thank you,” she said, walking back up the beach and stopping briefly to wriggle her feet back into her sandals.

I grabbed my socks and boots and carried them back to the truck and tossed them on the floorboard before getting in. Alaya climbed into the truck and slid across the bucket seat until she was pressed against me… I turned towards her. Before I knew what I was doing, I was leaning forward.

Alaya, she must have realized what was going on, and she pulled away from me quickly, giving me a strange look… I stopped and turned back to the steering wheel, cursing myself inwardly. What was I doing? What in the hell was I doing?

“We cannot do… that,” Alaya said firmly, scooting across the seat to put distance between us.

“I, uh… I know. I know that,” I said, stammering a bit. “I… I don't know what got into me. I’m sorry. I… I’m sorry.”

“Do not be sorry,” Alaya said then, turning towards me, tears in her eyes. “I am a very beautiful girl! You are stupid man… you cannot control yourself!”

I closed my dumbstruck mouth and didn't know whether to feel insulted or alleviated, guilty or righteous. Nothing seemed to make sense.

“We need to go home. Sophia will think we are making babies.”

My mouth fell open at her bold truth, but she was probably right. Little did Alaya know but, Sophia was at the house, going through her things. Silently, I played out a thousand scenarios in my head, and each one ended in disaster. Alaya told me to go again, and I regretfully started the truck and headed home.

When we walked into the house, Sophia had dinner waiting. Alaya gave her a hug and thanked her for doing the cooking, even though she could have done it herself, and then we all sat down at the table. Without speaking, I gave Sophia a look and Sophia slowly shook her head from side to side. Nothing. She’d found nothing. Not a thing.

Feeling guilty, I tried to make small talk as we ate dinner. I asked Sophia how her day had gone and she replied that her day had been pretty boring. I asked Alaya how her day had gone, and she replied that it had been a good day until I'd taken her to the beach. She then said it had been the very best day of her life, and then I tried to kiss her. You can imagine the look on Sophia’s face when she heard this news and while I stammered, trying to make some dumb explanation for my actions, Alaya reassured Sophia that we had come right back, and that we had not stopped to make babies along that way.

Instantly, my day had gone from okay, to insanely bad. Sophia got up, threw her napkin on the table, and told me the next time I wanted to make a move on her friend, I didn't need to come up with such an elaborate plan. All I had to do is ask her to go to a movie or something. Without another word, she stormed off to her bedroom and slammed the door.

I grabbed my head in my hands, not knowing what to do, until Alaya spoke up. “You need to talk to her. Explain you are stupid. I am very beautiful and you cannot control yourself. She will understand.” I smiled at that and got up. I immediately went to Sophia’s bedroom and knocked on the door. When she didn't answer, I opened the door a crack and asked her if I could come inside. She was in bed, and she rolled over to face away from me with a huff.

I came in and sat down on the side of the bed and confessed my wrongdoings. Sophia rolled over and just stared at me for a few moments and I knew… I knew she wasn't mad at me. She was putting on an act. It was a further disguise of what we’d planned, and carried out, earlier in the day.

I immediately changed direction. “Did you find anything? Any information at all?”

“No,” Sophia said, giving me a defeated frown. “But… not only did I not find anything like, you know, information… I didn't find anything else. Nothing. I mean…” She lowered her voice to an octave I could barely hear. “She doesn't have anything but clothes and it’s all clothing I… we, bought her.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, thinking I was missing something.

“She literally has nothing. No pictures, no trinkets… she doesn't even have an ID.”

I raised my eyebrow at this. If she had no ID, how was she going to and from the grocery store? School? Anywhere? I whispered my concerns and Sophia answered quickly. “She walks. Or I drive her. I’ve asked her if she wants to drive and she’s said she doesn't know how. No driver’s license is one thing but, no ID at all? She should have a Visa, right?”

“A passport at least,” I said. “Maybe she has it on her.”

“What? Are you going to go out there, hold her down, and dig around in her pockets for it?”

“No,” I said, my face turning red at the suggestion. It sounded barbaric and semi-sexual in a way.

“Don't act like you don't like her,” Sophia said accusingly. “She’s the closest thing you’ve had to a girlfriend in… like… forever.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” I said defensively.

“She cooks, she cleans, she does your laundry, she snuggles with you on the couch…”

“She just does that stuff because…”

“She likes you,” Sophia said bluntly. “Jesus dad, you're so blind sometimes. First day home she got naked right in front of you. Or did you forget that?”

I narrowed my gaze and inhaled sharply. I hadn't forgotten. Not only that but, unknown to Sophia, it had happened a couple more times as well. It was now almost a condition of normalcy, me walking into a room and finding Alaya stark naked.

“I’m tired of all this sneaking around. Just… go ask her what’s going on.”

“Come with me,” I said, not wanting to confront Alaya alone, in case she got mad or upset, I needed a referee.

“No. I’m going to sleep. Tell me what happens in the morning. I’ve got school.”

I looked at the alarm clock on Sophia’s nightstand and saw it was almost one in the morning. With a sigh and a nod, I stood up, turned out her light, and closed her door on the way out.

I stood in the hallway for a few moments, running the questions I would ask, and what I might do with the information I received, how I would react, depending on what the answers were. Once I was pretty sure I could accept anything without getting too upset, I headed for the kitchen.

I turned the corner and found Alaya standing at the refrigerator, bent over and for the umpteenth time, bare naked.

“Alaya,” I said softly, and she stopped what she was doing, and slowly stood up. I could see she had something in her mouth and she turned away from me, and then went to the sink. I closed the fridge. She turned the water on and put her hands into the stream, rubbing them together. “Soap,” I said, trying to be helpful. “You need soap. Here,” I said, reaching beside her.

In one smooth motion, I grabbed the soap dispenser with my right hand and pressed the top down. My left hand slipped into the stream of water and then… (Jesus' dad. Out with it.) No, I… I didn't do… I walked up beside her and... I reached out... and I touched her. (He kissed her.) I didn't grab her forcefully, or intend her harm. (He kissed her.) I just, I... I don't know, I just felt like, I had to touch her. (Kiss her.) And then, it happened. Everything flashed through my mind, just like before, everything... instant and total memory transfer. (It's called a kiss, dad.)

My memories... okay, so this is the strange part. Hold on. How should I put this? I gotta ask Sophia. (Sorry people. sometimes he needs guidance with these things)

Alright. Sheer raw truth is apparently what people want most. So... here goes… everything! As soon as I touched Alaya, all our memories shared, and I knew then, she was Nikki. THAT is when I kissed her. I didn't know it before then. I wouldn't just kiss your friend, that would be... weird and bad. (I gotta add it in here now, I didn't know she was some magically transformed whale or whatever. Sorry.)

With our shared memories pouring through me, I was able to understand a little bit of what was going on, but not everything. Well, it takes the human mind a while to process. It's not just a wham bam thank you mam kind of thing. (Yeah, it was.)

Once I realized Nikki was Alaya, or Alaya was Nikki, only in human form, I... I didn't know what to do. (You sure seemed to know) The next thing I knew, we were kissing, and then we were in my bedroom making love, and... to be perfectly honest, after that, I didn't even think of it, but… I thought maybe Sophia was able to read my mind again? I was distraught. I felt guilty, and elated at the same time. I found myself wandering around the house in the middle of the night, wondering how this could have happened, and then knowing exactly what had happened.

(They spent FIVE DAYS in the bedroom. No joke. FIVE DAYS.)

Over the next couple days we spoke a lot. At first I felt betrayed, like she’d lied to me and to Sophia… having sex did smooth things over quite a bit as it usually tends to… but Alaya explained that the transformation process does a number of things to a person, or, as she put it, the Nae’wa. Using our shared memories, I was able to fill in the blanks.

From our very first encounter, Nikki, or as her people call her, Alaya, had been learning as much as she could about humans and the surface world. Her newfound interest in me, and the world above the water, was looked at as a moment of transcendence. There are legends in every culture, and in hers, there are many stories of Nae’wa who grew legs and arms and forsake their tail flukes and fins to stand upon the ground and live above the water.

Any human would have been deemed crazy and put in an insane asylum, but that just goes to show how much we humans need to evolve beyond our misconceptions and illogical prejudices. When we shared our memories off the coast of Norway, Alaya instantly put all the pieces together.

During my year or so of preparation, I'd come across a lot of old maps, artifacts, and information. Remember the sea monsters and the Krakens? Everything held clues. Symbols were prominent on some of the items which, by sight alone, led Alaya to the conclusion that the places she had been, and the things she’d seen, were not just ruins and a lost city. They were machines, built to survive the apocalypse.

Using the knowledge she now had at her disposal, she immediately left on a mission, to carry out and fulfill her destiny. Ancient Atlanteans had developed such futuristic technology that it literally makes everything we have today, pale in comparison. Some of their technology still exists, but it can only be accessed from deep within the ocean, and only if you know how to use the stuff. Up until that point, not many people did, and not many Nae’wa either.

We spent a lot of time together, talking about everything we possibly could, and I marveled at how the markings from her former self had been transplanted onto her human form. She said she had no idea it was going to be like this. She assumed she would just grow arms and legs, and her head would shrink but… the device was much different than that. Once she found the evolution reconfiguration chamber, she was able to activate it and the device automatically detected her current (then) form. She could then select, simply by focusing on the array of forms, which she wanted to assume. The device then closed the chamber and a series of lights flashed. There was a brief pinching pain, and then she found herself floating awkwardly in water that seemed much thicker than before. The thick water drained away and she inhaled the air which invigorated her and filled her with energy.

Directions were provided. Information blossomed in her brain. A basic understanding of the human form, function, how to speak, listen, interpret. A basic history of humans grew and she was directed to step through a shimmering gate in front of her. A mission was laid out. Reconnaissance. Find the human to make contact. If you encounter other humans, act as if you are in need. Humans are empathetic to distress. They will give you clothing, food, shelter, transportation.

Alaya said she stepped out of a dark cellar in Baltimore, Maryland. She was naked. The bar tender, a woman named Stacy, gave her a dress and gloves, a hat and boots. Stacy knew a lot about what was going on, and said when Alaya was ready to go back, she needed to come see her. She would reactivate the portal and she could go back to where she came from. Alaya said, at the point, she wasn't sure who she was, or where she'd actually come from. Much of her previous life and memories were muted, locked away deep within her psyche. She was given basic instruction, warnings, and a bus ticket.

Alaya was told to keep her eyes closed when she could. Avoid shiny objects that cast a reflection. Mirrors were a bad thing. Touch was also prohibited, until the target was found. The first human contact. Normally, the psychic link between the two entities would stand, but Alaya had messed that up, on accident of course. I should have continued to think of her, rather than Sophia, so when she went through the transformation process, the link stayed intact. Instead, the link broke and transferred to Sophia when Alaya went through the chamber.

After the bus ride, Alaya arrived in our hometown and instantly saw the opportunity she needed. A way to get where she needed to be. International Exchange Student. In addition, she'd been berated multiple times by racist assholes, telling her to go back to Africa, and so she knew she should assume the identity of someone from that place, so she went to a place of information (the library) and red all she could about Africa. After that, she followed her intuition and feeling which was not completely gone, and with residual information from our shared memories, she knew where I lived, and where I would eventually return.

Once she introduced herself to Sophia, there was an instant connection. Sophia looked so happy to have a friend, and within two days she was telling Alaya about her special connection with her father. Alaya tried so hard to convince Sophia that the things I was thinking, that she was picking up and sharing with Alaya, were real, and that this was normal among her people… in Africa. Alaya also realized that somehow, our mental connection had shifted from her, to Sophia, and Sophia could read my thoughts now, so Alaya was constantly asking questions about my welfare. Since I wasn't responding to Sophia’s thoughts on the shortwave radio, Alaya suspected I couldn't read Sophia's thoughts. And she was right.

Alaya then explained that all Sophia’s intense staring those first couple of days, was her trying to break through whatever mental barrier we had. Alaya had tried to do the same thing, to re-establish the link that she neither fully remembered, or understood. Turns out, a lot of things change when you go through an Atlantean evolution chamber. Minds evolve, connect, reconnect, or disconnect. It was one of the issues that plagued the Atlanteans and some of those who became human many years ago. Those who left the water, forgot they had ever lived in the oceans. Without a link or even memories of a prior existence, they shunned the watery depths and stayed up above, living off the land. In a cruel turn of fate, it was the land inhabitants that waged war against Atlantia, and destroyed it, shattering the protective dome and sending it to the bottom of the ocean in a heap of wreckage.

Fast forward… two years. Over that time, we shared our thoughts many times, and our lives, our memories, our entire existence. Alaya became an integral part of our lives, and we became hers. We were able to obtain an ID from the African Embassy using very basic information and then from there we slowly built Alaya an identity.

We were married in a small ceremony, just Sophia and a few court-appointed witnesses, on February 20th, 2004. It wasn't an impulsive thing. It was a symbolic thing. Alaya had to leave. We'd discussed it at great length but, over time, it had become clear to both Sophia and I, that Alaya missed the ocean. She missed her mother and her family there. Every time we shared our memories, the remembrance of her former life became more intense, more longing. She missed swimming and hunting and everything that living in the oceans entailed. Upon further discussion, we decided, as a family, we would get married and then she would return to the ocean in the spring. It would be the perfect time... so, we thought.

July 11th, 2004, just two days before Alaya was to return to the ocean, we discovered something critical. Up until that moment, we had shared so much time and information (sex) as we possibly could, and during our last moment of shared memory, we realized there were two other minds peering into our thoughts. We were dumbfounded. Against all odds, and, I suppose against our own ignorance, we never thought pregnancy was possible, although, now that we look back on it, we think, why on earth did we think that? We were both human then!

Now, with the new information that Alaya was pregnant, with twins of all things, something that happens even less in Orca's than it does in humans, we had a very difficult decision to make. I think it took us all of seven minutes. (Six).

Even as polluted as the oceans are, they are still far safer than the land. Humans die at a fantastic rate, far too quickly, and from far too many things. The Nae'wa have no fear of cancer or prejudice, war or malnutrition. They can travel the entirety of the world's oceans with no border, no limits. Their technology, even in its current state, is still far superior than that of humans, or should I say, surface humans...

And so, Alaya returned to the ocean on July 17th, 2004. She made sure that the portal and the chamber would not harm her unborn babies and Stacy assured her it would not. In the dark basement of a bar in Baltimore, Maryland, Alaya stepped back through the portal from which she came, reversing the process that changed her from orca to human. She exited the chamber deep within the ocean depths, in the ruins of Atlantia, and rejoined her family. Sophia and I hurried out to sea and through our shared connection, I met with Alaya again to share our memories and restore anything that had been lost in the evolution change process.

Once that bit was done, Alaya made me promise I would see her regularly, and that I would be present when out children were born. I did, and Sophia said she would make sure I fulfilled my promise. With that, Alaya swam off to be with her pod, regaling them with the story of where she had gone, and what had happened to her. Of course, there were some who doubted her words, but when her own mother confirmed that this was not only possible, but that she, herself, had journeyed to the surface some twenty years prior, not a single orca doubted her.

Our children, Fred and Herlighet, were born January 12th, 2006, off the northern coast of Norway. Both Sophia and I stood witness, or should I say, swam in the sparkling daylight and peace and glory came into our lives.

Today, like many other days, Sophia and I spend our days listening to Bob Dylan blasting as loud as we can play it, catching fish, playing with Fred and Herlighet, and straining garbage out of the oceans. We now own an international fleet of seven ships which remove six point five million tons of plastic and other contaminants from the oceans each year... but that doesn't even equal half of what's added. Alaya continues to spend her time above and below the surface, routinely showing others the way forward and back. One day, she promises to bring our children with her for their first time on land, and experience I cannot wait to share with them.

Coincidentally, Sophia has said she can feel something in the water when she gets in, something far off, far away… She keeps asking me what it is, and why she’s feeling this. What should she do? I just look at her and smile. I guess it runs in the genes.