Quit Your Waning (Over the Moon #3)

JIHAE

In a colony of listless, bored humans, Sherry’s Shack was a popular place.

The pop-up bar stand was just a temporary thing while they waited to get building permits from whoever approved colony projects, but the glade had quickly become a hangout spot. It had originally begun as a bartop with six tall chairs and a thatched roof, but now the glade it was built in had been cleared to make room for a dozen small round tables, carpets, and pillows that Sherry and her business partner would set up if the weather was good.

Since Siobhan and I were off from teaching, we decided to meet up mid-morning, when the humidity would cause a light drizzle and we didn’t have to worry about Soyeon or Ciara. They were busy making jack-o-lanterns today. Real ones, made from lime green gourds imported from Samridve. Our host city’s ambassador had sent them as a gift.

I waded through the overgrown path behind the home towers, listening to the groggy plop of the rain hitting waxy biria leaves and the sound of ferns crumpling against my legs like giant sheets of cardstock. Because of the morning gloom, Sherry had turned on the twinkle lights she’d gotten from Mrs Fareshi so that they were lavender and orange. They floated amongst the ferns at the edges of the clearing like will-o-wisps and danced like candles upon the bartop.

Thanks to the drizzle and the early hour, there were very few patrons. I slid up to the bar two seats down from the yiwreni refugee that sat here and stewed more often than not. When he’d arrived with other alien refugees nearly an orbit ago, he’d been patchy and scarred, but now his fur was growing back in a pretty amber pattern like an orange cat.

The shack itself was decked out for Halloween. Miniature skeletons hanging from the thatched roof, black bowls filled with crunchy snacks between each seat, and a witch made out of cloth scraps that had run her broom into one of the roof posts. Monster Mash was playing from somewhere behind the bar, where a partition of palm fronds hid the food bays, shelves, and cold storage.

“Hi, Jinny,” Sherry said with a bright smile as she opened a bottle of universal beer and sat it in front of the yiwren without looking. He tucked it into his chest with big meaty paws.

“Hi, Sherry. Can I just have a beer?”

The yiwren’s ear twitched at me, but swiveled back towards Sherry, disinterested.

“Oh, you wanna try the new thing Boom and I are cookin’ up?” She huffed her blonde bangs out of her round face with an excited wriggle of her nose. “It’s called Witch’s Brew.” Then she leaned over the counter with a shrug and a wink. “Universal sangria.”

“Okay. Ah! And I like the witch.”

Sherry beamed, dipping a ladle into a big black punch bowl. “Aw, thanks, hon! I made it myself. It’s not the best, but it adds some fun pizzazz.”

“It’s really perfect.” Sherry’s apple cheeks turned red and I smiled to myself, happy that I’d made her feel good. She deserved it with how much effort she put into her shack.

“Thanks. Here you go.” She served my Witch’s Brew in a bowl and I felt a pang of nostalgia for the tin bowls of milky makgeolli that my mother loved to drink with the neighborhood ladies.

“Jihae!” Siobhan sat down next to me with a breathless pat on my shoulder. She was wearing her knee brace, likely because of the rain. The injury always bothered her most when it rained in the mornings. She looked up at Sherry with a wink. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

“Witchy sangria with mystery fruit, coming right up!”

Siobhan gave me a hug and tossed her bag at our feet.

“How’ve you been?” she asked, crossing her arms on the bartop.

“Oh, I’m okay.” I nodded to her knee. “Is it hurting?”

Siobhan exhaled up her face with a roll of her eyes. “At least in Ireland the spitting’s cold. Here it’s warm and my stupid leg…” She shivered, hugging her elbows. “I’m saving up the courage to get surgery.”

I sat up straight on my chair and slapped her shoulder. “What! Really?”

She grimaced. “It’s not really a surgery, apparently. I eat some nanobots, they go live in my knee for three days, then I piss them out. And if they don’t get everything, I eat some more.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad. Actually, it sounds way better than surgery,” I contemplated from personal experience. Siobhan’s eyes brushed the scar above my collarbone and her shoulders slumped.

“I know…” she sighed. “But I’ve got to stay in the clinic for it. The bots interface with the surgical arm or something so they know what to repair in live time.”

I cupped my bowl of brew, watching the chunks of bloody red and orange fruit slosh around the surface, and wondered what sort of wonders the clinic could have done for me. Being abducted just days after my surgery had completely botched my recovery.

I’d gone to the clinic once early on. Rumors had gone around that Dr Ahlberg arrived a few hours early every morning, so there was a narrow window to see her without the shilpakaari doctor around. But she’d been so overwhelmed at the time… The only thing she’d been able to tell me was to eat a calcium-rich diet. Then her coworker—now husband—had arrived and I’d bolted. I hadn’t been able to summon the nerve to try again.

But that was months ago. I’d done a lot of healing since then. Maybe I could save up my own courage and visit the clinic again someday.

“Well, let’s drink to your knee and your not-surgery,” I said with a grin, holding up my bowl.

“May our laughter overpower our hangover! Sláinte!”

“Gombae!”

We clinked bowls, then both took a hefty swig of boozy juice. My cheeks puckered as I chewed on the pulp of a tart blood-red fruit. I gulped down two hardy mouthfuls, then set the bowl down with a throaty ahhh, licking my lips.

Siobhan sighed with satisfaction. She swiped her thumb over her bottom lip, watching surreptitiously from the side of her eye. “What’s the craic with you, though, for real?”

I sighed, watching two floating twinkle lights topple over each other on the bar. My vision blurred as reality bubbled to the surface of my mood. I tapped my index fingers on my bowl in a resigned way, soft little presses rather than nervous jitters.

“Soyeon told me Ciara calls you mom.”

Siobhan took another swig of her drink and nodded. “Couple weeks now, aye.” She gave me a sad shrug, but beneath it I saw how happy she was. “Our Benny back on Earth is about their age, you know? It’s hard to think about, but Ciara helps fill the void.”

“I’m so glad you found each other,” I told her honestly. Then my brow creased. “Soyeon must feel that… I think she wants to live with you and Ciara.”

Siobhan nodded slowly, staring into her drink.

“Aye, she asked if she could stay for the whole holiday.”

Surprised, I looked up at my friend. “What did you tell her?”

“Told her I’d think about it. Talk to you.”

I gulped down the rest of my drink and pushed it towards the other side of the bar.

“Sherry? Can I have another drink please?” I asked, my voice uneven. I clutched my hands to keep the tremors from toppling the bowl over.

“Sure thing, hon!” she called from behind the partition.

Siobhan leaned towards me, placing a hand on my forearm.

“Y’know, I don’t have to say yes, Jihae.”

“But would you like to?”

We stared at each other for a heartbreaking breath and a tear fell down my cheek. She pressed her lips together and nodded.

“I miss the house being full up,” she admitted quietly. “When they’re both there, it lights up the place. You could live with us too, you know. The more the merrier, isn’t that right?”

We both laughed through the sniffles. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand as Sherry set my drink down. She took one look at us and topped off Siobhan’s too before wandering back to her food bays.

“I don’t know,” I sighed, attempting to tease. “I’ve tried European dramas and Irish food. I don’t really like either one that much.”

“And your pepper paste is so bad even the bilong would think twice.”

We laughed again, and Siobhan pulled me into a hug. She held the back of my head and pressed my cheek to her chest. Even though we were the same age, I felt safe and loved in her arms. It was her unapologetic loyalty. Her fierceness. Siobhan intimidated other people but when she was in your corner, you felt like you had the wind at your back. I wanted that for Soyeon too.

“She can live with you,” I decided, feeling lighter. “She wants a mom right now, and that’s not me. So…” I swallowed down my snotty tears and blotted my puffy face on her shirt.

“Ah, go on with your cheek!” she laughed, brushing the wet spots off her chest.

“I just don’t want her to lose Korean, okay? Not just for me, but because if she does, she won’t be able to read the archive. Her mom has some blog posts and toddler snack reviews. And her school had a website too.” I bit my cheek to keep the emotions back. “When she’s older she might think those are important.”

Siobhan grabbed my hands and squeezed them. “Ah now, how about she pops over to yours twice a week for her supper and a wee hand with her homework. And you, come round to ours at least once a week. We’ll have grand craic with games and lashings of grub and a few drinks—whatever you’re in the mood for, aye?” Her eyes glimmered with hope as she rubbed her thumbs over the tops of my hands. “We’ll work it out. We’re like sisters, but even better since we actually get on.”

“That sounds perfect,” I sobbed, hiding my puffy red face.

Siobhan laughed, rocking us back and forth. And when my shoulders stopped shuddering, she pulled me back up by the arm and tapped our bowls together.

“Now,” she started, handing me my sangria, “let’s get absolutely legless.”