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I try to explain to her that if she leaves the body, it’s not the same, but that’s alien to her. It’s like her trying to explain to me where she goes, and the closest I come to grasping it is to think of it not as a place but as a mind-state, like deep meditation or dreaming. Like astral projection, but I don’t know what that is either.
Also, there’s the anatomy. She told me to imagine it as a golf course. More like miniature golf, I said, and she told me that I should give myself more credit, that it wasn’t that small. I didn’t know what club size she had become accustomed to, but of course that just created more self-doubt. Miniature golf must’ve never made it to her planet, but I thought that the explanation of my analogy — her anatomy compared to drain pipes, windmills, and impossible angles — would end up doing more harm than good. So I let it at that: a game played with tiny clubs and balls.
“You let me leave the first time.” She stretched out on the bed, like someone preparing for final rites. “And it went fine, didn’t it? I mean you liked it.”
“No. I felt it. I thought it was me. That I was doing something wrong. I mean, well, I hadn’t thought of the other possibilities.”
“I’m tired,” she says. And she says other things. About her compromising for my own foreign sense of how it should be, of my forcing her to be there even though such things are outlawed elsewhere. And so on and so forth until there’s nothing to do but let her go.
And so she does, leaving me with the body.
I don’t know how the body works without her, how it responds and listens and requests. I feel like I’m with a sex doll. In stories about everyday guys who find themselves with prostitutes, they just sit and talk, and pay her anyway, because someone has to have a heart of gold. Not that prostitutes are sex dolls. I don’t know what I’m saying.
“Well,” her body says. “What will it be?”
“Do you remember how we fell for each other?” I undo my bathrobe and pour the sesame oil onto her back. I rub her as I would a genie’s lamp.
“Yes, I remember.” She hums and tells me about the double-booked hotel room; her saying when I walked in on her, “Now that’s what I call room service”; the shimmering aqua blue drinks; but still I doubt that I’m really with her.
I move my way down the body, pouring and rubbing. I ask her more questions and she knows all the answers. Whenever she reaches back for me, I twist away and say, “Not yet.” She mumbles a strange word, maybe a sigh, maybe a curse.
I find myself repeating, like a moan, “Is she coming yet?”
“Yes. She’s coming.” Her body rises against the pressure of my hands. She’s coiled, released, then sitting next to me. “Now you.”
“Nah.” I say.
“Nah. What’s that?”
I move her hand. “That is not for you.”
The body wanes, and she’s back from the nether lands. “Oh, how could you?” She explains to me what I’ve done, the ancient unwritten laws of her land, about completion and rites, and not to mention she thought I might love her, one day.
“What must I do?” Whatever it is.
This time, when she leaves, I try to find her trail, as one might do after a death, in search of the soul, and one always imagines it rising, like steam or birds, so I’m looking at the ceiling, waiting for the body to do what it wants.
But there’s nothing. I sit up. “What?”
Her body throws the sheet over me. “First, I want to know why you didn’t complete. And then there are feelings that need to be unbroken, and then I will rub you.”
“That would make you the rubber,” I say. “No, wait. Don’t do that. No more jokes. I promise. We’ll talk. Really.”
She tilts her head, like an owl.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I say. “It’s just — that. Insecurity. It’s all kind of beyond me.”
“I will show you.” And she opens herself up like flowers and books. “Are you set?”
“Yes. All-set. Tell me.”
I’m all ears. I’m all in. I’m following her until the talk turns to hums, until we create something that might make her feel, upon returning, she’s the one who missed something.
Randall Brown is the author of the award-winning flash fiction collection Mad to Live (Flume Press 2008). He teaches at and directs Rosemont College’s MFA in Creative Writing Program. His short and very short fiction has been published widely, and his essay “Making Flash Count” appears in The Rose Metal Press Field Guide to Writing Flash Fiction: Tips from Editors, Teachers, and Writers in the Field (Rose Metal Press 2009). He also appears in Hint Fiction: An Anthology of Stories in 25 Words or Fewer (W. W. Norton & Company 2010). He blogs regularly at FlashFiction.Net.
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24 Responses to “JUST LIKE EARTH GIRLS • by Randall Brown”
Comments
« LISTENING • by A. F. McKeating | Home | TAKING CHANCES • by Karen Laine »
December 9th, 2010 at 12:58 am
I found this piece a bit obscure.
Loved the line: ‘I rub her as I would a genie’s lamp’.
December 9th, 2010 at 4:18 am
Perhaps it’s the time of year, or maybe it’s the time of my life, but this is another story that contains some magical ingredient for me. Like all magical stories it works a various levels, none of which has necessarily to be completely logical. It speaks to me of the complexities of any male female relationship (even if ‘male’ and ‘female’ in this case could be no more than analogies), particularly at the early learning/experimenting stages.
The ambiguous title adds to the mystery.
Beautifully written too.
Thanks Randall.
December 9th, 2010 at 4:50 am
Thanks Oscar! It came out of a prompt from a terrific flash fiction office, The Flash Factory, at the equally terrific FREE workshop site, Zoetrope Virtual Studio (http://www.zoetrope.com). Each week the participants in the Flash Factory write a flash to a prompt, the flashes are reviewed and voted upon, and the winning flash writer determines next week’s prompt. This flash came out of this prompt: “Simple, really. Cross Alien Abduction and/or Extra Terrestrial Encounter with Romance or Romantic Comedy.” So I ended up with “Just Like Earth Girls,” a flash about a guy dealing with his alien girlfriend’s leaving her body during sex. Or something like that.
December 9th, 2010 at 6:18 am
Exactly what Scar said. I’m getting lazy with my comments.
A tricky subject that Mr. Brown handled very well. I especially liked the very last paragraph. A great ending to the story.
December 9th, 2010 at 6:31 am
Love it as usual. Terrific job.
December 9th, 2010 at 6:59 am
Thanks, Gay!
December 9th, 2010 at 6:59 am
Nice work, Randall.
December 9th, 2010 at 7:00 am
Thanks so much, L. Joy!
December 9th, 2010 at 7:19 am
I thought this was extremely well written; companionable, casual prose that welcomes the reader in and then keeps you entertained after hooking you. Fresh metaphors and a unique perspective on alien sex – what’s not to love? Another 5 star story!
December 9th, 2010 at 7:57 am
I didn’t understand all of this, but I loved it just the same.
December 9th, 2010 at 8:13 am
Fantastic story, Randall! A 5 star for sure. You have such a natural style of writing that makes for comfortable reading. Well done.
December 9th, 2010 at 9:10 am
Terrific, Randall! Wonderfully strange and thoughtful, but very funny as well, with your sexual double entendres. “I didn’t know what club size she had become accustomed to.” Priceless. Well done, man, a fiver for sure!
December 9th, 2010 at 11:10 am
Wow … this was totally lost on me. Sorry.
December 9th, 2010 at 11:26 am
This has changed since its first incarnation. I like this version much better; it goes deeper into the problem between them, the human lover’s willingness to do what it takes, the solution they reach.
December 9th, 2010 at 2:26 pm
Thanks, Elizabeth. It did get quite a bit of workshopping, fer sure, and plenty of great readers/writers helped improve it.
December 9th, 2010 at 2:27 pm
Thanks, Mary Ann & Douglas!
December 9th, 2010 at 3:08 pm
Great story and title. Hopefully more sci-fi flash pieces are to come.
December 9th, 2010 at 6:06 pm
WTG, Randall! And the whole-hearted plug of the FF, nice!
December 9th, 2010 at 7:46 pm
Great story, Randall!
December 9th, 2010 at 8:07 pm
I must confess that, while the writing is flawless, it was not until I read the author’s comment (#3) that I understood what was going on. That said, I really enjoyed it on my second reading.
December 9th, 2010 at 10:57 pm
Nice job Randall.
I related to the idea of the out of body experience. And what a great premise for a story about sex.
I did not find it obscure at all.
Thanks for a good read. 4 stars.
I also just bought your Rose Metal Press book to learn how to write flash fiction. I am just a novice writer so I look forward to reading your chapter.
Best,
Buddy
December 10th, 2010 at 2:00 pm
Unique and well-written. I’d read more from this writer.
Write1Sub1
December 11th, 2010 at 10:04 am
A satisfying read…
June 2nd, 2011 at 1:03 am
[...] JUST LIKE EARTH GIRLS by Randall Brown suggested by Nicole Scarpato Monaghan [...]