![]() ![]() ![]() It’s brand-new, a Frigidaire, one of those side-by-side freezer-and-fridge jobs complete with icemaker. Bibi jumps to get it and these men wheel in a full-size fridge. I’m about to insist when there’s a knock at the door. I know I’m being nosy, but you’ve got to admit it’s a bit strange. “How can nobody on Jupiter have parents?” I ask. That sucks.” What can you say in a situation like that? I’d never met an orphan. I say, “Your parents were cool with you coming to America? Mine wouldn’t even let me go out of state.” I’m unpacking my toiletries and makeup, and she’s still reading. She tells me most of this the first night in the dorm. But she looks more like a girl than a guy, so that’s how we treat her while she’s here, even though her body parts serve both functions. Ironic, as her kind doesn’t have genders, just one type, like flowers, self-germinating and everything. But she tells everyone she’s from Jupiter, says it’s easier to explain. The one she’s from is called Europa-by Americans at least. “She could be from the moon, for all I care.”Īs it turned out, she was from the moon. “I thought Jupiter was made of gas,” my father says. “This is a bit different.” She unlocks the car, grabs a handful of pillows, and adds, “Is Jupiter the one with the rings?” “I was worried about Angela living with city kids,” she says. She says it several more times, looks at my father, then me. “Jupiter?” Not quite sure whether or not to believe it. First, like it’s a word she’s never heard, a word she’s trying to get used to. My mother’s shaking her head, saying “Jupiter” over and over. They do an about-face and head back to the car. ![]() We found you,” and goes back to her reading. “I didn’t realize we’d found life on other planets yet. It just makes more sense than the other possibility. Not that they know there is a Jupiter, New York. Like I said, it was a pale green, a tint really, but it was pretty obvious to me, and she had weird eyes too, beady black pinhead eyes like a hamster’s. So they start asking questions: “How was your drive? Do you like the campus? Have your parents left?” They’re all excited, want to make friends with the new roommate. They drop my stuff on the side of the room with a broken closet door and turn to this green, earless girl. My father’s got my futon extended over his head, trying to be all macho in case my roommate’s a babe. My mother’s carrying my lava lamp like some offering. It doesn’t even look like she has nipples. She’s this tiny creature, not even five feet tall, completely flat, no breasts. Her ears are inset like a whale’s, and she doesn’t have eyelids. Tinted rather, like she got a sunless tanner that didn’t work out. It just sounds like a disease that would turn you green. Gangrene, I think, not quite knowing what that is. And she’s got pale-green skin that looks sickly. ![]() This is my roommate.Īt first, I think she’s an inmate. She’s sitting at her desk already, reading the student handbook. I’m hoping to get there first to pick the best side of the room, the one with the most sunlight and the least damaged furniture. It’s the end of August and I’ve got all my stuff shoved in the family van, a bit too unorganized for my father’s taste, but we only live an hour away. The first time I met her I nearly peed my pants. But as it turns out, she was really well liked. I figured I’d have to protect her from riots and reporters. I just didn’t expect her to be so popular. And why shouldn’t she? She probably qualifies as fifteen different types of minority. She comes in like a Cuban refugee, minus the boat, sweeps up all the scholarships. And she gets a full ride, all the amenities paid for. I mean, here we have student-funding going down the toilet and everyone staging protests to show they’re pissed. You’d think there’d have been an uproar over the matter. Anything to be able to write on the brochures, “Our student body hails from thirty-three countries and the far reaches of the solar system.” Apparently, American school systems have gotten popular all over. I wasn’t thinking about a romp around the red eye of Jupiter, which is exactly what I’d have gotten had I followed my roommate home. When I marked on my roommate survey sheet that I’d be interested in living with an international student, I was thinking she’d take me to Switzerland for Christmas break or to Puerto Rico for a month in the summer. Series: The Tales of Gorlen Vizenfirthe.Series: From the Lost Travelers’ Tour Guide.People of Colo(u)r Destroy Science Fiction!. ![]()
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