That's not salad, part 4

If you’re just joining us, jump back to part 1.

Sal stood in the dark store and peered out the window at the street. A blanket of clouds covered the night sky, hiding the moon. The shops were closed, except for June’s Convenience on the corner. The only other light came from the streetlamps and the headlights of the occasional vehicle that swooshed past.

At a noise outside, she shifted into the shadows, but a few moments later, a gaggle of teens, clutching frozen drinks and candy, walked by, their loud laughter echoing down the street.

The church bell rang, and she realized she’d been standing there for half an hour, broom in hand. Still no sign of the bounty hunter. She swished the broom across the floor.

A creak sounded behind her. She spun, her left foot falling back as she brought the broom handle across her waist, ready to strike.

Em froze in the doorway to the kitchen, clutching a plate with a pair of cookies on it in her shaking hand. The light from the kitchen silhouetted her.

Sal lowered the broom and hurried to her. She hustled them both into the kitchen, closing the door behind them.

“Are you okay?” Em asked. The plate rattled as she placed it on the counter.

Sal shook her head, and a shiver coursed through her whole body. Her antennae came free of her human garb first, then she shimmied and her golden feathers fluttered with the relief of finally being free. Her beak clattered as the shuttered worked its way free.

Em took her paw and squeezed it, the velcro pads of her own fingers warm.

“What’s wrong?” Concern sent a green shimmer through the scales on Em’s cheeks.

“Rotham found us.”

Em stilled. “Are you sure? It’s not one of the other Quesardim?”

Sal wrinkled her nose. “Yes. And no.” She twisted her lips. “I think so. He’s wearing different garb, obviously. And these human eyes are so limited.” She blinked, freeing her nictitating membranes. Then she squinted, trying to recall what had made her antennae twitch. “I’d recognize him no matter his form. There’s something about the way he moves.”

Em made a small humming noise. “Yes, I know what you mean.” Her mouth tightened into a determined line. “Well, we can’t do anything on an empty stomach. Cookies first so we can think clearly.

“You’re beautiful,” Sal said, as the claw of her left foreleg caressed the scales on Em’s face. They might have dimmed with age, but they still glittered like a jewelled rainbow. Her feathered limbs fluttered against various parts of Em’s body.

One of Em’s antennae caressed Sal’s face while the pads of her fingers clutched Sal’s limbs. “Despite me being an Agami?”

“Because you’re you, Agami and all.”

She wished they could stay there, in their little cocoon, wrapped around each other. Forgetting about Rotham. But she sensed the sun had risen. Tansy would be around shortly.

She stilled, trying to hold on to the moment. They lay in near silence, with only the rustle of feathers on scales and the sound of their breathing. But too soon she heard Em’s breathing change.

“What are we going to do?” Em’s red eyes met hers.

Sal shook her head, and the feathers on her neck stood on end as she tried to think of options. Without success.

“I like it here,” Em continued. “I don’t want to run again.”

Sal nuzzled Em’s face with her beak. “Neither do I.”

“But what else can we do?” Em’s eyes gleamed in the dim light.

“Maybe he won’t notice us.” Even Sal recognized her words were hollow.

Em gave her that look that said she was being silly, but not in a good way. “The store is doing well. Maybe we can bribe him.”

Sal ran a finger along her cheek, and the scales under Em’s eyes shimmered. “He’ll just take the money and take us back anyway. Besides, Earth money doesn’t really convert well.”

They lay there a moment longer, their syncopated breathing weaving into a quiet percussion.

But it couldn’t last.

Sal’s feathers twitched.

“What is it?” Em asked, then continued when Sal didn’t answer. “I know your ruffles. That was a nervous one.”

“We might need to fight.” An ache formed in her stomach.

“I’m a lover, not fighter,” Em said.

Sal snorted. “I don’t think that’s true. But I’m a fighter.”

“You left that behind. It was killing you.”

“Maybe we’ll figure something else out. But whatever we do, we’ll do it together.”

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The next day passed with no sign of Rotham. As did the one after that. Spring showers turned to summer flowers, which became the fruits of autumn. And Sal almost forgot to look over her shoulder when she went to the hardware store or the bakery or for a walk in the park.

She might have forgotten completely if it weren’t for Em’s flurry of nervous salad making. Potato salad. Pasta salad. Fruit salad. Bean salad. But even that slowed to only one or two a day.

Sal patted her stomach, which had gotten a bit more like the jelly salad that was Em’s favourite. She wasn’t mad about that. It fit in with their newly settled life.

In her life before she fled with Em, she’d been in the royal guard. Which required its members to be in peak fitness and mandated a regimented dietary regimen. There’d been nothing like potato salad, which was Sal’s favourite.

And now the heat of summer verged on autumn, still warm but the nights were cooler.

Maybe they had eluded detection. Maybe Rotham had moved on, none the wiser. She allowed a flicker of hope to trill in her throat before quashing it.

“I think we should order more of Bedard’s new book.” Tansy emerged from one of the aisles, a clipboard in hand.

Sal blinked. She’d forgotten Tansy was back there taking stock. It was a good day for it. A rare summer rain sleeted the windows, and the customers who’d come in were picking up orders or taking refuge from the weather.

“You know the sci-fi and fantasy section the best.” Sal waved a hand. “Put down what you think we need.”

The doorbell rang, a nice, simple da-ding now that she’d fixed the door and replaced the bell. She really did love that tire store that didn’t sell tires.

Meredith Beeker entered, shaking her umbrella out the door before placing it in the stand by the door.

Sal put aside her ledger. “Meredith, your book hasn’t arrived yet.”

“Well, I’ll just have to pick up something else then. I have nothing to read at home. Well, nothing I want to read.” She scanned the table of new releases. “Oh, I’ve been waiting for this biography.” Meredith turned the cover to face Sal. “She was such a fascinating woman, wasn’t she?”

Sal nodded and made a sound of agreement, even though she had no idea who the subject of the book was.

Luckily, Meredith passed the book to her to ring up without discussing it further. “I also wanted to make sure you and Em are coming to the DSBA meeting. Glen loves Em’s ambrosia salad.”

“Don’t we all.” Sal handed back the book and Meredith’s change. “We’ll be there. Do you need a bag to keep that book dry?”

“No, I have inside pockets in my rain jacket.” Sure enough, the volume disappeared into her jacket.

“See you tomorrow.” She waved the hand with the umbrella crooked over it.

Sal nodded then returned to her ledger. The numbers floated in front of her eyes. Em really was better at math, but she was also better at grocery shopping. And she had plans for Fall Fest, so she’d left midday with a list and hadn’t returned.

The door flew open, distracting her from the numbers again.

“Em!” Tansy emerged from the aisle. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Em’s wide eyes hopped from Sal to Tansy and back. Sal thought she saw a tinge of red. Her hair was mussed, and her skin flushed. “I’ve seen him.” She bustled over to Sal. Her voice dropped to a sibilant whisper as she continued. “And worse, he’s seen me.”

Sal hustled around the desk, knocking over a stack of books. “Are you sure?” She didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, she turned the lights off, flipped the sign to closed, and ushered Em through the store and into the kitchen.

Tansy followed, clipboard still in hand. “What’s wrong?”

Sal didn’t answer. “Close the door behind you,” she said instead. “And put on the kettle, if you will?”

Tansy nodded, and Sal returned to Em. Grasping Em’s hands, she found them freezing. She rubbed them between her own.

“Tell me what happened.”

“I—” Em started, and then hiccoughed. Sal made her own breathing even and deep, and after a few moments Em’s followed suit. She began again. “I was at the grocery store, getting salad ingredients. Basket full. I was chatting to that nice produce manager.” She sniffed. “And then I turned to the apples … he was there.”

“Who?” Tansy asked from her station by the stove, a frown in her eyebrows.

But Em ignored her. “He met my eyes and flashed yellow. He smiled, too wide. He knew me. Even like this.” She gestured at herself. “What are we going to do?”

Their shared despair weighed down the air.

Sal clutched Em’s hands to her chest. “We haven’t found another option. Fight or flight, those are our only choices.”

“Fight? Two old birds like us? Maybe you can hold your own for a bit but … I suppose we could go out like those two women in that movie, the one with the car.”

“I’d rather not go out in a blaze of glory.” Sal’s hands came to Em’s cheeks. “Flight it is then.”

“Would someone tell me what’s going on?” Tansy asked. Just then, a squeal pierced the air. She turned to the stove, then glanced back at them for a second. “Liquorice mint, I think.” The kitchen was quiet as she spooned tea into the basket of the pot. She pulled a plate out of the cupboard and placed a few cookies on it from the sheet Em had left cooling on the counter before going to the store.

She brought it over and placed it on the table between them. Her hands went to her hips. “Whatever it is, maybe I can help. I might be young, but I’ve had to fend for myself for a while.”

Em’s eyes met Sal’s. Definitely tinged with red. She saw her own thoughts reflected. Telling Tansy could put her in danger.

But Tansy persisted. “Clearly you’re in trouble.”

Sal quirked an eyebrow at Em. After a few seconds, Em nodded.

Sal huffed, fortifying herself. “He’s a bounty hunter.”

Tansy’s jaw dropped, but her voice barely cracked when she spoke. “You have a bounty hunter after you?” A heavy silence hung in the room, forcing Tansy to continue. “What did you do?!” This time her voice rose at the end.

“Nothing.” Em clasped Sal’s fingers. “We fell in love. It wasn’t allowed.”

Tansy arched an eyebrow. “Really? I don’t think anyone in Midtown, even the whole country, is sending a bounty hunter after you for that. Unless one of you was married to the mob.”

“What mob?” Em asked. She continued in a whisper. “Is that like the guard?”

Sal gave her head a small shake, urging caution. “We’re not from around here,” she said. “And I had a special position back home. They’ll absolutely send someone after me.”

“Wow.” Tansy’s face twisted in consternation.

“I was important, and they wouldn’t like that I left.”

“That might explain…” Tansy started, then stopped. “There was someone asking after you in the Burger Baron. Mean to the server. Smiled as he did it, like a frog. A real piece of work.”

“That’s him.” Sal’s fingers tightened around Em’s hand. “And he’s not a piece of work. He’s an alien.”

“And illegal alien? Why does that matter?”

“No, alien alien.” Em pointed skyward with her free hand.

Tansy snorted. “And I thought I was the one with science fiction fantasies.”

“So are we.”

Tansy’s face fell.

“I know it’s a shock,” Em said.

“That my really nice bosses are completely bonkers? Yeah.” She turned back to the teapot. “And things were going so well for once.”

“It’s true!” Em’s lips pursed, and she gave Sal a “this will not stand” look. Lips pressed into a line, nose twitching, and eyes tight.

Sal knew what it meant. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Em’s nod was short and firm. When she was decided, she was determined.

With a shake of her head and a shimmy of her shoulders, Sal shed this skin. Her feathers ruffled in pleasure to see Em’s scales glittering in the warm kitchen light.

“Tansy?” Em said.

Their assistant turned around, the glum expression still on her face. A second later, she slumped to the floor.

Stay tuned for part 5.