Page 61 of Theirs to Crave
The three of us started deeper into the jungle. It was only when Mariano cleared his throat that I remembered—with some embarrassment—that he was there. He jogged around Zafett to peer at me with raised eyebrows.
“Do you even know where you’re going? What you’re doing?” There was a weight to his words that made it clear he was asking about more than this moment.
I chose to ignore his unspoken question. “We’re gathering food.” I spoke with haughty certainty, although I was guessing at best. The only bits I’d understood of Litha’s initial statement had beencomeand—I thought—teach you. But it made sense, what with the baskets and the lack of refrigeration.
“Uh-huh,” he muttered.
When we got to the patch of bushes thick with soursusuelaberries, I gave him a smug, triumphant smile.
I’d wondered why the Teterayuh’d split up the way they had. It felt kind of patriarchal, with the manly men presumably hunting while Litha and sweet, gorgeous Zafett picked berries with us. But that wasn’t the vibe I’d gotten from them otherwise. I still didn’t know how or if they figured gender, but besides the Teterayuh without crotch bulges having vowel sounds on the ends of their names, I hadn’t seen any sign of “women’s work” at play.
As we worked, I decided it had been a fully practical decision. Unlike grumpy Revik, Litha was an amazing teacher. I didn’t have a frame of reference, but she and Zafett were amazingly knowledgeable—even when they were sharing that knowledge without words.
She showed us how to tell the berries were ripe, how to cut the bunches so more would grow, and how much to harvest before moving to another plant.
Zafett showed us a pretty blue speckling that was apparently bad, how to remove the affected parts, and what to do with them so they wouldn’t spread.
By the time Revik and Kurz came back, we’d collected what seemed like a week’s worth of groceries, my brain was fuller than the baskets, and Mariano was so bored he was trying to braid rope out of strips of stringy orange moss.
Kurz started pulling carcasses out of his basket and Mariano was right at his side, watching him clean them with one hundred times more focus than he’d shown to Jungle Gardening 101.
We sat around the palapa sharing lunch—thinly sliced roasted strips of some critter that was delicious, but I hadnotwanted to eat. It looked like a Guinea Pig. A bright yellow Guinea Pig. It was upsettingly adorable.
But I was hungry, and Kurz put some spices on it that smelled amazing, so I apologized to the poor thing and ate it anyway.
The Teterayuh didn’t exclude us, but they gave Mariano and I room to talk. If I hadn’t already decided to stop distancing myself from them, that kindness would have made the decision for me.
“This is damn good,” Mariano said, sucking savory juices from his thumb. “But you know what it needs? Tortillas, lime, and cilantro. Un poco de salsa picante?” He kissed his fingers in culinary bliss.
“Don’t talk to me about tortillas. It’s too soon. The loss is too big.”
He rolled his eyes at my dramatics, then looked thoughtful. “Tortillas are pretty simple. I bet we could find something on this planet to substitute for the masa. Maybe not the same, but probably better than those ‘low carb hacks’ people were pushing for a while.” He gave me a sly look. “Or at least, I could. You’d probably burn down the palapa or poison someone.”
I scratched my eyebrow with my middle finger, rolling my tongue over my teeth.
Mariano looked pointedly at my hand, still wrapped in bandages from when I’d cut myself trying to open asorufruit.
“Oh, shut up.”
He snickered and stuffed his face with more poor Guinea Pig. My eyes caught on the yellow pelt hanging from the eaves behind him, and I sat back with a wince.
“How do you think the others are doing?” I tried to keep the worry from my tone, but Mariano knew me better than that. He bumped his knee against mine, leaving our legs touching, and leaned back on his palms.
“They’re gonna be okay. Kurz says another storm’s coming, but when it passes we can go to the village together.” He smiled crookedly. “You saw how close their houses were. They’re probably driving their host families crazy, popping in and out.”
I nodded, chewing my lip. Shane had come up with the term “host families” during the incredibly awkward audition process that I’d flown past with blissful ignorance. The Teterayuh had each spoken briefly, then played an inscrutable game of show and tell with assorted items: tools, bowls, food, weapons, cloth.
Since I’d made my choice before the pageant started, I mostly listened to the tone of each of their voices, watching their bodylanguage for signs of anything...off. Using my hypervigilance for good.
There were a couple of people that set off my radar, and I’d shaken my head subtly at Mariano when they stepped back into line. Relief flowed through me when I saw his lips move and the others nod.
Mariano had settled on Kurz almost as fast as I’d chosen my three. I thought it was because Kurz and Revik seemed to be friends, which might mean we’d get to see each other more often. But he might just have liked his fluffy, ringed tail. Or his weapons. I’d noticed his eyes lingering on them.
I’d been ready to bring my Abuele with me—whether the Teterayuh liked it or not—if xe hadn’t felt good about any of the other options, but Yin had chosen Aksha and her partners, Jaiz and Lefkuh. I hadn’t gotten to see much of Jaiz or Lefkuh, but I liked Aksha, and trusted her instinctively. She was a hoot. I had a feeling that their house was going to turn into the alien version of The Golden Girls.
Once everyone had chosen, we’d all gone on a little tour of the village. Other than Mariano and me, only Shane ended up choosing someone who lived outside. He and Indaro, who had to be Zafett’s sister, lived on the opposite side from us. Everyone else was easy walking distance from the massive central gathering area, which was a relief.
“Kurz says, huh? Since when is your Teterayuh so good?”