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not your average alien
Nito by pome lover
Alternate universe soulmate contest entry


His name was Definito, from Latinia, or so he said; a planet where the inhabitants spoke Latin.  I took Latin for two years in high school, but do I remember a word?  Well, maybe Veni, vidi, vici (I came, I saw, I conquered), E Pluribus Unum, (out of many, one) and carpe diem (seize the day) but that’s about it.  However, to my great relief, this Latinian also spoke English. 

Definito first appeared to me in a dream.  In it, I was swimming in my pool late one night, when someone popped to the surface behind me and tapped me on the shoulder.  Dreams being what they are, the strange and abrupt appearance of this “being” didn’t frighten me.  Well, maybe at first, but mostly, I was fascinated. His head was covered with grass—a beautiful, rich shade of green— with three yellow dandelions growing in it.

“Hello,” he said, with an 'almost English' accent—close but somehow different.  I responded with my titillating Texas twang.  I didn’t think of him as threatening or even amusing, really.  Didn’t even ask him what he was doing in my pool (or my dream). It’s amazing the lack of curiosity you have in dreams.  Actually, as an avid gardener, I thought he looked quite fetching with his healthy head of green grass, and I wanted to ask him if he grew anything else, but I woke up, and that was the end of that.  Or so I thought.

The next day I was at my computer, working on a story line for a piece I planned to submit to a magazine.  I almost screamed.  “Grass hair’s” face was suddenly next to mine--real life,not a dream.  He was scanning what I’d written.

“Are you cognizant of the fact that your protagonist has the backbone of a noodle?” he said.

I thought that was uncalled for, but when I looked up, I burst out laughing.  His yellow dandelions had turned into those wonderful puffballs we used to blow on as children.  I couldn’t help it, I blew.  Little seeds parachuted down his face and into my keyboard.  “Damn!” I blew, harder, into the keys.

He was actually smirking. “You don’t want little flowers growing between the letters?  And you call yourself a gardener.”

I was busy shaking my keyboard, and to tell you the truth, I was a bit pissed.  I had not invited this sarcastic…whatever he was into my life.  He had invaded my private space and interrupted my train of thought, and …

“Made you laugh, though,” he said, evidently reading my thoughts. “Why are you angry?”

I glared at him.  “Okay.  I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I am in the middle of something, here.  And anyway, who and what are you?  And why are you here in my house?”

Looking at me, intently, he said, “I am Definito, from the planet, Latinia, which is such a great distance from your Earth, you have not yet discovered us.  My name means definite.  I don’t believe it is a word with which you are familiar.” With that, his eyebrows began going up and down as if he were trying to make a point. He was, in fact, though in a rather rude fashion, I thought.  I mean, I don’t know this guy.  But his point was clear.

“I get it.  You’ve come to do something about my indecisiveness, haven’t you?  My friends tell me all the time that I drive them crazy because I can’t make up my mind.”  He nodded like yes, I would drive him crazy, too. But I ploughed ahead. “However, I don’t understand why you came from a planet too far away for us to chart, to help me, and by the way, your name is rather a mouthful. Would you mind if I call you Nito?  But I won’t, if you don’t like it, though it would be nice if I could, or maybe ….”

“Prohibere! Finis! Stop, please.  You must cease saying 'or maybe.'  If you desire to ask a question, ask it!  Don’t wander around in it like a lost child.”

“Wow.  I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean… okay, okay.  May I call you Nito?”

“Yes, you may.  See?  Simple.”

It was.  “Thanks, Nito." I smiled, and said it again. "Nito… that has a nice, simple sound to it.”

He shrugged.  “Yes, if simple is what pleases you.  I prefer beautiful sounds, myself, words that flow melodiously over the tongue, like running water in a brook….Def-i-ni-to…lovely syllables.  But, Nito sounds like a dog’s name.  'Nito!  Come here!' He made a face.  "So… what is your name?”

I hesitated.  “Well, my mother was watching a rerun of Gone with the Wind when my Dad had to rush her to the hospital to have me, so she named me Scarlett for the…”

Nito snorted, rather condescendingly, I thought.  “Yes, I am familiar with that movie.  So of course, the heroine, Scarlett.”  Then he looked at me quizzically.  “I think your mother misnamed you, though it is a lovely name.”

I felt my hackles rise.  “Do you realize you have done nothing but criticize me since you appeared? I do not require your approval, nor do I want it.”

“Bravo!” he said.  “That is exactly the kind of thing Scarlett would say, except with a different accent.  Good for you, and…I apologize.”

I smiled, tentatively. Well, what do you know. “Accepted.  How’s that for decisiveness?” 

“A good start.”

Suddenly, I noticed his “hair,” and blurted, “Did you know that your grass…hair…grass-hair is turning brown?  Is it…dying?  Are you all right?”

His expression sobered.  “So.  It has begun.”

“What?  What’s begun?”

“The Ending.”

“What ending?”

 “My ending.”

“What!  But why?  You’re so young—I mean, you look young.  Are you not?”

He cleared his throat. “Enough.  This is not about me.  I am here on a mission and I intend to accomplish it.  I am to become your soulmate.”

I was dumbfounded.  “My soulmate?  You?  With the green hair and dandelions—well, it used to be green with… I thought your mission was to help me. So, now, it’s not?  Your mission is to be my soulmate?  Which is it?  Or is it both?  And who sent you?”

“Let us just say that you need help.  I am here to offer it, and then you will want to be my soulmate.  Now, shall we begin?”

Conundrum.  I don’t want him “helping” me, and expecting me to be his soulmate, but then again, I am curious, and if he is “ending,” maybe I should at least give him a chance to complete his mission.

“Okay, maestro, fire away.  But I have to tell you that I have a nail appointment in a couple of…”

“In the name of Plato, would you cease chattering! You should be limited to a certain amount of words per day and if you go over it you would be struck dumb until the following day.  Hmmm, not a bad idea.”

I was aghast.  Could he do that?  “Can you do that?”

“No, unfortunately.  But, what if I could?  How about one hundred words per day?”

“One hundred!  That’s not very many.  What if…?”

“No, it’s not.  That means you would have to conserve, pick and choose, be aware of what comes out of that mouth of yours.  Not blather.”

“Blather!  I don’t blather, I…”

He sighed.  “Scarlett, I don’t have much time.  Please let us not waste it.  Now, we begin again.  I will ask you several questions and all you have to do is answer them.    Okay?”

“I guess so.  Okay.”

“Good.  How do you like your eggs cooked?”

“That’s it?  That’s my question?  Who cares how I…”

“ANSWER THE QUESTION, PLEASE, SCARLETT.”

“Okay!  I like them scrambled in the morning, but sometimes at night I have a fried egg and bacon sandwich, but not runny, I can’t stand the white part runny and I like the yellow part spread out so it covers the toast and…"

"STOP! I beg you. You are a most loquacious human! But I knew that when I came. Never mind. Scrambled, I believe you said, somewhere in there. Okay.  Second question: how old are you? …. No answer?  Surely you understood the question.  How many years have you?”

“Yes, I…um, I’m…thirty-two.  But my friends all say I don’t look a day over…”

“Scarlett, you are flunking this test and you are definitely making my ending more stressful.  Do you care to continue or not?”

I looked at this creature-man, who I must admit, except for the grass-hair, was pretty attractive.  Of course, he could be a hundred and ten, but then, so what?  For Pete’s sake, Scarlett, what are you thinking!  Oh, well.  “Yeah.  Sure.  Go ahead.”

Well, Mr. Greenhair must have decided to take a new tack and ask rather than tell. 

  “Scarlett, would you like to have me for your soulmate?  I know you like eye candy,” he said, eyes twinkling.

I almost choked.  “Wow! That’s a tough one, Nito.  I don’t really know you, and you do not know me and what I like, so I don’t know; maybe, if…”

“Hmmm. That’s true.  You don’t know me. And I don’t… but what if you did?  On second thought, let’s pretend.  It is childish, I know, but there you have it.”

“You’re right, pretending is childish.  I’m beginning to think you never intended helping me be more decisive.  I think you needed an excuse for coming here.  I think maybe you wanted a soulmate and you probably couldn’t find one in Latinia, so you picked on an innocent human with a problem and you thought…”

“An excuse?!  I do not need an excuse; I mean, why should I need an excuse? I am a very likable Latinian, so I’ve been told, and fully qualified for this mission.  Anyway... what’s wrong with our being soulmates?  Or ... do you have one already?”

“No, I, well sort of, but…”

“What is ‘sort of?’”

“I have a …friend, but we haven’t gotten to the soulmate part yet. But we’re close!”

“Oh.  Well, if you’re ‘close.’” (those twinkling eyes again)"…but, it's possible that you could like me better, did you consider that?  I mean how many humans have a Latinian soulmate?  It could be fun, don’t you think?  … Or maybe you don’t.”

“Aha!  Two maybes in two sentences!  You told me I had to stop saying ‘or maybe.’ You’re beginning to sound like me.”

“Well, there you have it!  Soulmates. We are becoming soulmates!  Pretty cool, as you humans are fond of saying.  And it's rather fun, this going on and on and...”

“It would be unique, all right."  (I think I've created a monster) "So, tell me, how do you see us working together, exactly? I mean we need to agree on some things to be soulmates.”

“Of course. First, you agree that I am eye candy, right?...right?”

“You know, Nito, you are rather vain.  Yes, you’re a nice looking Latinian, but what does that have to do with anything?  Now, what is something we can agree on?”

“You mean, on which we can agree.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, okay.  NAME SOMETHING!”

“Right.  Well, I am sure you agree that there is the need for me to help you change from a wishy-washy blatherer to a…”

“Whoa, Nito. No name-calling.  I’m sorry if you are 'ending' and I’d like to make it easier for you, but if you truly want to be my soulmate and help me out of my indecisiveness, you’d better try being nice.”

“Right.  You are absolutely right.”  He raised his fist in the air.  “Once more unto the breach!’”

“Aha! Shakespeare! King Henry… speaking to his troops. Aren’t you the smart one!”

"Well, of course I am, but you?  I was not aware that you were, that you had a…”

“A what?  A brain? Is that what you…? Forget it, Bozo!  That’s it.  Soulmates do not insult each other.  You are not my soulmate!  You are a…a…condescending, insulting Latinian with outdated opinions and zero patience.  ‘Eye candy’! Yeah, right. And I bet you’re not even ‘ending;’ I bet, come Spring, you’ll have a nice, new crop of grass.  With dandelions!”

“Hmph! Well, it looks like this mission was ill conceived; and by the way, for someone who doesn’t like insults, you sure know how to hand them out!  But, ha! ha!" (he snapped his fingers) "They don’t bother me because frankly, Scarlett, I don’t give a hoot!”

“It’s damn, Nito.  The word is damn!  Soulmate.  Sheesh!”
 


Author Notes
sorry about the drawing - couldn't find a picture of a guy with green grass hair. :)

     

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