Aiyela the Space Gypsy Meets Yasha the Space Noble Page 3
When Aiyela thought of that dingy orange, she zipped back up to her collar. Yasha coughed behind her. She turned, he was eyeing her and deliberately zipped down his jumpsuit and tied his sleeves about his waist. He seemed to know what she was thinking as he worked in a showy fashion to put back together a panel she was done with, displaying large sweat marks down from his armpits and on his back. She peeled down likewise, though still felt self-conscious about how his shirt was at least white.
Noon rolled around, Aiyela only knew because a floating remote came up to inform Yasha that it was lunch time. "Do you like Reubens?" Yasha asked, the machine was asking for a lunch order to relay to the galley.
Lunch was another thing Aiyela had not dropped a crown for. The work kept her from thinking about food, but when she paused her stomach reminded her that its tank had also run low. She didn't want to impose but a Reuben sounded so good, whatever it was. She'd never seen one in the dried goods section, but Yasha told her it was a hot sandwich . . . with bread. Oh, if this is still a joke, it's one I can live with. Though she did remember a boy named Tommy Grisom hiding laxative in her tuna sandwich long ago, she thought trying this Reuben-thing might be worth the risk.
When lunch arrived it was better than she had believed. As the two sat on an intake duct, high above the deck in the empty engine room, Aiyela began to think that maybe this guy was for real. But he couldn't be. "Uh . . . Yasha . . . "
"Yes?" He ripped a hunk out of his sandwich in a most un-nobly fashion.
"Why are you doing this?"
"I'm sorry. How do you eat when you've had a hard morning's work?"
Aiyela snorted as she bashfully hid behind a reusable juice box. "That's not what I mean." He had to know that. "I mean, why did you give me this job? Verderoy is full of mechanics who could have done it."
"I told you, you're the right mechanic." He was still grinning, but he was dead serious. "You think I was at that bay in Jernalis because of that bay manager and his clean shop?"
"But then-"
"I was looking for you."
For me?
"A couple years ago . . . I guess you would have been eleven, twelve. You fixed an Il-il-talis freighter on Memphib's third moon. That freighter wasn't even made anymore. That particular one should have been decommissioned and cannibalized before you were even born, but you'd already been turning wrenches long enough that you knew just the love it needed."
"You . . . knew about that?"
"Do you think that freighter captain kept it to himself how this young woman helped him earn his pay for that year and the one after? Every choice in life radiates out to the end of creation." Yasha snatched a potato wedge from a little stainless dish. "A man, who is me, keeps track of people like you. When I have something important that needs done, I know who to find."
It was nice to hear, "But . . . " Aiyela looked down at the stains in her brown overalls, stains that could never never come out.
"You seem fixated on that soiled cloth. You look at that and say 'ruined, gross.' I look at that and go 'ooh, life.' You got those stains because you've been in the thick of it. Those stains let me know when I set eyes on you, 'Yep, she's the one. If anyone on this planet knows how to fix this, she does.' The Creator made a dirty world." Yasha laid a hand on Aiyela's knee clutching it with his palm. When he brought it up, thick grease had painted it. "How can we embrace him, if we do not embrace his dirt? To him dirt's not dirty." He took his hand and wiped it on his shirt. With his now semi-clean hand, he grabbed the tray of sandwiches and held it in front of Aiyela. "One more?"
Aiyela did get paid for fixing Lord Yasha's trio interlocking spatial shifters, and the sandwiches were amazing, but the dirty mechanic left Yasha's ship with more than clean laundry. Her gratuity was paid in understanding. Maybe it didn't matter that her clothes weren't the best or that her engine room was smaller than some closets. When all was said and done, she did buy a new set of overalls, but only for backups when her real pair was in the wash.
Maybe Aiyela was exactly who she was supposed to be, H73-01 and all.
###
About J.S. Clark
I (J.S. Clark) hope you enjoyed your time with Aiyela. I wrote this after New Arbor Day as a refreshing change of pace, inspired by my wife Alisa who has had her share of hard days along with me. But this first episode was so much fun to write, that I've made it my break of choice between my other, more 'serious', projects. I say that with quotes because, revisiting more childlike times and stories is good for the soul, and despite what someone might think it is very serious work.
As always, remember that for an independent author marketing is the toughest chore, especially since for most of us, this is work we squeeze out of our sleep. So if you enjoyed this, tell someone else. That's easily the biggest favor, for a new writer. Just tell someone else.
J.S. Clark lives in southern Ohio with his wife, Alisa and their assorted, adopted cats, dog, and other living paraphernalia. Most of the time, he's operating a small oasis of good, quick food (not fast food) called the Happy Turtle, located in West Union Ohio. He couldn't do it alone so his wife does at least half the work. Outside of that, together they're learning self-sufficiency on a small, potential farm, and endeavoring to live as disciples of Yeshua (Jesus) the Messiah. With the time God gives him outside, and in the cracks of that daily work, he writes.
Aiyela the Space Gypsy Meets Yasha the Space Noble is his first published short story, but he always has another work on the burner. At the time of this publishing, he has one published novel New Arbor Day and is deep in a sci-fi epic novel Evangeline, the continuing adventures of Aiyela, and a sequel to New Arbor Day tentatively titled God of Heroes.
Check out J.S. Clark's blog at https://pen-of-jsclark.com and follow him on twitter @jsclark5768 for the latest on these and other projects and happenings!
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