Human trauma, p.10
Human Trauma, page 10
part #1 of Human Trauma Series
The amount of studying was far beyond anything Martinez had ever done before. Thinking about the pages upon pages of questions he had to find the answers for gave him a headache. Martinez would be damned if his entire weekend was spent shoved into books and data manuals. He was getting that in spades at work.
Martinez wanted to head out to specialty shops to grab some beer or at least whatever passed as beer on the far side of the Milky Way. Having asked Ivorn and Therin if they wanted to go before they cut out of work, he was disheartened that they both shot him down; Therin would instead head home, while Ivorn said he had a date with Sursee tonight. After hearing that news, he thought about possibly asking Shiksie if she wanted to go but decided against it when he saw the imposing cat woman polishing her claws, sending a shiver down his spine.
Out of options and with him not really having any other friends, he decided to message Ezol to ask the pangolin-like alien if he wanted to head out to the specialty shops on the far side of town tonight. Since Martinez had not had a chance to visit the area and knew Ezol had grown up in town, he could not think of a downside to at least asking if he wanted to tag along.
Ezol initially told Martinez he would not be able to, having to keep his shop open for the night; however, once Martinez told Ezol he had a bottle of hot sauce for him. Ezol quickly changed his tune and more than happily agreed.
Martinez pulled out his datapad, flicked it on, tapped on Ezol’s number, and quickly jotted out a short text.
Martinez: I will be at your cart in five. Are you almost ready?
Ezol: Just about. Had a short rush, but it should be settled quickly.
Martinez: Check rodge.
Ezol: What?
Martinez: I will explain later.
Martinez then shut the datapad off and tucked it inside his leather jacket.
Of course, there would have been a dinner rush, Martinez thought.
Martinez wondered who would attend Ezol’s shop for a dinner rush. With how Ezol had spoken about his shop when they first met, Martinez thought very few people could even eat his food, and he had doubted a true dinner rush could happen. Martinez shrugged and guessed he would just have to see once he arrived.
After a short walk, Martinez rounded the street where Ezol’s cart was. Ezol was not lying about there being a sudden rush at his shop; the clientele swarming around the front of his shop should have come as no surprise to Martinez, but the sight was just so out of the left field to him. Dozens of Valmin surrounded the cart, pushing and shouting at one another about how they should be next for food.
The sight was rather funny from Martinez’s perspective. Ezol was the only Valmin he had ever interacted with, and he had no idea what others of his species would look like. From his perspective, it looked like a swarm of Ezol’s clones surrounding the cart. The only thing that allowed Martinez to tell each of the baying aliens apart was their clothes. They each had similar draping attire as Ezol but were colored slightly differently.
Scrambling behind the cart was Ezol. He was still wearing that bright red apron he had the previous night. The older Valmin man was working frantically to put more food on the grill, take new orders, and hand the cooked food out to the voracious crowd. Ezol looked overwhelmed by the amount of Valmin baying for their next meal.
Martinez felt a knot of guilt form in his gut. Ezol had been pleasant and accepting of him, and he was chuckling, watching his friend struggle. He did not want to see his friend frantic like this, nor did he want this to take too long. The specialty shop would be closed if they did not hurry. Martinez sighed and started his way over to give Ezol a hand however he possibly could.
Martinez carefully began to squeeze his way through the crowd. A few Valmin tried to shove him out of the way, but they could not move his heavy frame. Some would yell at him about stopping cutting in line, but most seemed to pay the far larger Human little mind and simply let him pass. When Martinez reached the side of Ezol’s cart, the complete perspective of how overwhelmed Ezol was came into view.
Ezol’s bright red apron was coated in a thin yellow film, likely from the sauce he enjoyed. Ezol looked completely distraught, sweat pouring from his face in the grill’s heat. There was a pile of orders Ezol had yet to start cooking on one side of his grill; flanking the sizzling skewers on the other side were several orders, already wrapped and ready to be handed out.
“Hey brother, you need a hand?” Martinez asked while he placed his hand on Ezol’s shoulder.
Ezol’s head snapped to Martinez. “I told you I will get you!” Ezol started shouting at Martinez before sputtering to a stop when he realized it was the Human, not a ravenous customer.
“Oh, Martinez, sorry about that ‘’ Ezol continued before returning to the grill and flipping the skewers that were starting to smoke.
Martinez was surprised. Ezol seemed like someone who would never raise his voice at anyone, but apparently, even the ordinarily relaxed Valmin had his limits. Martinez added that thought to the ever-growing list of wrong first impressions he had made since his arrival.
“It’s alright. I just figured you could use a hand,” Martinez chuckled.
Ezol roughly wrapped another complete skewer into some paper wrap and tossed it into the growing pile.
“Yeah, I could use the hand. If you want to help, start passing those out for me,” Ezol said, pointing his tongs at the mound of finished meals.
“I got you, brother,” Martinez said as he scooped up the most recent order.
Martinez turned towards the crowd of hungry customers and was immediately bombarded by a cacophony of voices. The few Valmin closest to him had receipts clutched in their claws, waving them at him frantically.
This will be painful, Martinez thought as he checked the number on the order in his hand against the first customer’s receipt.
Serving a growing crowd of hungry Valmin was not how Martinez expected his days off to begin, but his sense of loyalty to his friends had condemned him yet again. He was more than glad to have helped Ezol with the dinner rush, but now he was dripping with sweat and felt even more exhausted than when he left work.
Martinez was lucky and had avoided working in retail or a restaurant before joining the Navy. If this were what working in those would be like, he would do his best to ensure jobs like this would never be on his resume.
Martinez sat on a bench near the cart while Ezol and another Valmin he did not know finished cleaning up. He glanced at his datapad and saw that it had already gotten late; getting rid of the dinner rush took them well over an hour.
At least the shop should still be open, Martinez thought.
The trip to the far side of town would take them a little over half an hour, and the shop should be open for another few hours or so.
“Ezol, I thought you said this would be a small rush?” Martinez said sarcastically with a smirk.
“Yeah, it was supposed to be, but my family arrived early for their visit,” Ezol replied, shrugging. “Nothing I can do about that.”
“Oh, that was all your family? Like your kids or extended family?” Martinez questioned.
Ezol huffed, his back plates chittering, “I’m glad they are my extended family. I would lose my mind if they were all my kids.”
Ezol walked up behind the other Valmin and nuzzled into the back of their neck. “My lovely wife and I here only have two pups of our own, but they have been grown for years,” Ezol teasingly said.
“Ez, not in front of your friend,” The other Valmin giggled as she turned and playfully pushed away from Ezol.
Oh, so that is his wife, Martinez thought as he watched them continue teasing one another.
“Verni, you know I love it when you pretend you don’t enjoy it,” Ezol said.
Verni clearly was not expecting that response. She paused momentarily before playfully tossing the wet rag she was holding at Ezol. It landed over his snout and eyes with a wet slop.
“You know what I mean,” Verni teased.
Verni turned away from Ezol as he pulled the wet rag off his face. She gave him a short glance over her shoulder and stuck her tongue out with a slight giggle before turning her attention to Martinez.
“You could at least introduce me before you start embarrassing me,” Verni said.
Verni was very similar to Ezol in external appearance. Their height and build were about the same. Both had little muscle mass and looked nearly identical to a meter-tall pangolin. Verni did have a few exceptions that Martinez could easily see. The scales on her back were far darker than Ezol’s, being almost black.
In contrast, Ezol’s were dark brown. Unlike her husband, who wore a simple apron with utility in mind, her clothing was far more extravagant. Her apron-like garb was a vibrant blue with a trim of yellow as bright as a sunflower. Adorning it was stitched artwork that looked like a grand landscape, but Martinez was not quite sure if it was meant to be a desert or a mountain.
“So, are you the Human Ez has been telling me about?” Verni asked, cocking her head slightly.
Martinez was surprised by how smooth her voice was. It flowed like a river, uncaring of what was caught within its wake. She had a gentle strength oozing off her, like someone who was well experienced and was caring because of it.
“That I am. I hope he hasn’t told you anything too exaggerated,” Martinez replied.
Martinez hoped he would not have two different aliens telling wild stories about him. Harnsis doing so in the shop before his arrival was plenty for him to deal with, having already had to explain to random aliens in the chow hall that he is not as invincible as Harnsis has led them to believe.
“Well, he told me how you look and how you managed to eat his hottest food,” Verni Chuckled as she rested her clawed hands on her hips. “Oh, you should have seen him. He spent all night after he met you double-checking his recipes.”
Verni paused and looked back at Ezol, who was taking the open sign down from the shop, her eyes hanging on Ezol for several seconds before her gaze quickly turned back to Martinez. Her black eyes stared deep into his as she sneered.
“If you can keep him that passionate,” Verni said with a shudder rolling across her body, her spines clattering together. “I am more than happy to have you as his friend.”
Martinez was somewhat surprised. That statement had a lot of heavy undertones he did not expect to learn about Ezol or his wife. Martinez had no plans of not spending time with Ezol, even if they initially just became friends from enjoying spicy food; Ezol was still incredibly kind, maybe a little shy, but still kind.
“I had no plans of not being his friend anymore, mam, but this dinner rush kinda put a damper on our plans today,” Martinez said.
“Oh please, young man, just call me Verni. Calling me mam makes me feel old,” Verni cooed.
Verni moved over to plop down on the bench next to Martinez, a little too close as far as Martinez wanted, considering Verni was his friend’s wife.
Martinez shuffled awkwardly away from Verni and reached into his pocket, wanting to pull out something he hoped to deflect the conversation to something less awkward.
“On the subject of Spicy foods,” Martinez said as he drew a small bottle from his pocket. A bottle of Aunti June’s hot sauce, the red Ichor he had used for years while he was attached to the Marines. Auntie Junes had been the only thing that made the prepackaged MREs (meal-ready-to-eat) palatable. Martinez chose this specific hot sauce to give Ezol because it was not the spiciest but had the best flavor. “I promised Ezol this a week ago. My order for it finally arrived.”
Verni’s eyes lit up with excitement as she scooted closer to Martinez and the bottle. She placed her clawed hand on Martinez’s arm, the long claws scraping against the heavy leather of his jacket.
“Oh, you would not believe how excited he was about this. Can I take it now? I want to surprise him with it later,” Verni asked. Her voice, while still incredibly smooth, had taken a slightly pleading tone.
“I mean, sure, I don’t see why not. I was going to give it to him after the rush, but he already knows I had it,” Martinez shrugged.
Verni furrowed her brow and brought her claws to her snout. She tapped her talons along the thin scales lining its surface. “I will handle that, don’t worry about it,” Verni said.
Martinez saw little difference if she or Ezol took the bottle. Either way, Ezol could try the sauce.
Martinez placed the bottle in Verni’s hand. “All right, just make sure he enjoys it.”
“I will make sure of it, thank you,” Verni replied as she tucked the bottle into a pocket in her dress-like apron. She scooted back to the distance she was before Martinez revealed the bottle of Auntie June’s to her, much to Martinez’s enjoyment. Since they just met, he did not dislike Verni, but Martinez did not know her well enough that he wanted to be that close to her.
“You ready to get going, Martinez?” Ezol said as he walked over toward the two of them.
Verni happily hopped off the bench and started to walk toward her husband. Verni wrapped her arms around Ezol and rubbed her snout against his.
“You two must be careful while you are out,” Verni cooed.
“We will be fine, dear,” Ezol said. “We are just going to get some shopping done.”
“Yeah, you said that last time. I’m just reminding you to stay out of trouble,” Verni said. “I know Martinez is new here, so don’t get him in trouble.”
“It’s alright. I will be home soon,” Ezol replied.
Verni let go of Ezol with a smile and a nod. “Good, I have a special surprise when you get home,” Verni wistfully said as she began to stroll away from the two of them. Ezol watched Verni walk away from them with a glow of care in his eyes. He rubbed his clawed hands across his apron and watched every movement of Verni’s departure.
“Your wife is really nice,” Martinez said while tapping Ezol on the shoulder.
“Yeah, she sure is,” Ezol replied, pulling his attention from watching his wife. He turned back to Martinez. “Come on, buddy, let’s get over to the shop. It’s already getting late.”
“Yeah, let’s do that,” Martinez said as the two of them started to walk in the opposite direction of Verni. “By the way, Verni mentioned, ‘That’s what you said last time.’”
“So you did hear that. I was hoping you hadn’t,” Ezol groaned.
So that wasn’t just playful banter, Martinez thought.
“So what happened?” Martinez asked.
Ezol sighed and ran his claws along the scales atop his snout. He looked like he was deep in thought for a few moments. “Do not tell Verni what actually happened,” Ezol said.
Oh, this has to be juicy, Martinez thought.
Martinez nodded his head and patted Ezol on the shoulder. “I would never,” Martinez said with a brimming smile.
“Well, last time my friends and I went out, we got wrapped up in a fight. All she knows is the fight happened. The truth is, my buddies and I did not realize they were on something. The fight ended up putting half of us and all of them in the hospital,” Ezol said with shy pride.
Ezol did not seem guilty about the fight, more that his wife did not know the whole story.
“So you didn’t want to worry her?” Martinez asked.
Ezol looked up at Martinez, shocked, “Well yeah, I don’t want my wife to worry about me. No man would,” Ezol said. “ But I had to help my friends, for better or worse,” Ezol continued as he patted his chest and beamed with pride.
That is something Martinez fully understood. He and the Marines used to get in brawls or other trouble together all the time. Usually, only one or two of their squad caused the situation, and everyone else was simply trying to solve the problem, even if that solution usually caused more problems.
“I understand that feeling, buddy,” Martinez said.
Martinez followed Ezol through the streets of Draun. The area they were heading to was somewhere Martinez had never been before. This city section looked far older than the area around the medical center or his apartment. The area’s vibe reminded Martinez of his home in the Los Angeles ruins—where everyday workers or those skirting the law would end up.
There were aliens huddled together on street corners and lingering outside the shops they passed. Most of them seemed not to pay Martinez or Ezol any mind. A few would turn their head for a moment and draw the attention of their friends to the passing duo, only for the group to return their attention away once Martinez caught them looking.
From growing up in the LA ruins, Martinez was all too familiar with their type. He knew they were likely some kind of gang or a group of pickpockets. Martinez figured they were scoping the two out as possible marks or checking to see if Martinez or Ezol were in another gang.
Out of habit, Martinez tucked his hands into his pockets to double-check that all his items were still there. Thankfully, everything he brought was still right where they belonged.
“Don’t worry about them,” Ezol said. Having picked up on Martinez keeping a vigilant eye on the groups they passed. “They don’t do anything out in the open.”
“If you say so, I did not expect to see gangs here,” Martinez replied.
“It comes with the area. The old town does attract interesting characters,” Ezol replied while gesturing at the shop they stood outside of.
Martinez wondered what Ezol meant by interesting characters. That was such a vague term it was virtually useless. But Martinez figured since Ezol seemed so relaxed, he likely could as well, even if his instincts screamed at him to keep vigilant.
On entering the store, Martinez paused and took in the sight. The shop’s center was completely open, with rows of shelves on each side. Each of the stands had small dividers sectioning them off. Each section had a sign hanging over them, a label denoting what the area contained. Most of the racks were packed with food or drinks, while some had other items that looked like medicines and even a few clothes.
