The True Meaning of Smekday (Smek 1)

Without a word J.Lo went back to the dishes he’d been washing. I stood and rested a hand against the dinette. Then I thought maybe I should sit, but I got up again a second later and stared at my shoes. Stalling.

There were ten different kinds of playing cards in the pattern of the carpet. There were hundreds of cards, of course, but they were the same ten, over and over. Sixteen poker chips, eight red and eight blue.

“The Hoegaardens have dice on their carpet,” I said.

“Ah,” said J.Lo. “Yes?”

“Yeah. Pairs of dice all over. All the pairs add up to seven.”

“I see.”

“They live where the craps tables used to be,” I added. “Pardon my language.”

We fell into a silence again. J.Lo’s hands sloshed around in the water.

“We really have to talk,” I said. “Don’t you think? We have to?”

J.Lo grabbed a bowl and dunked it in the sink.

“If you are wanting to. What should we talk about?”

I’d been holding my breath without realizing, and the last of it came out in a puff. “You know…”

“Ahh. About the Boov. About me leaving Earth.”

“You never really said what your plans were.”

“I would be as a criminal to the Boov,” he said, scrubbing the bowl. “The greatest bungler ever. I brought to our doorsteps the Gorg.”

“Would they…kill you?”

“No. The Boov are not having capitalized punishment any longer. I would be made a prisoner. Or given a very bad job.”

“Like what?”

“Legtaster, maybe. Or Bearer of Droppings. It would be bad, but not so very. These jobs have a certain quiet dignity.”

“Uh-huh.”

We stared at each other for a moment, then J.Lo rinsed the bowl and picked up a plate.

“Sooo…should I leave, then?” he asked. “Go back to the Boov?”

“I can’t tell you what to do. It’s up to you. Right?”

J.Lo looked into the sink and nodded a little nod. It was like I could see him deciding. It was like watching a slowly falling balloon that would burst if nobody caught it.

“But,” I said, “but if you…It would be harder around here if you left, of course. More chores for everyone else. That’s all I’m saying.”

“True.”

“It would be hard to explain to everyone why JayJay wasn’t around anymore. If you left. But you need to do what’s best for you.”

“Yes.”

“I’m only saying it would be harder. And you could give us a lot of help getting rid of the Gorg, knowing what you know.”

J.Lo paused with his hands in the water. I suddenly felt like I was standing very strangely, so I shifted my weight to the other leg, but it didn’t feel any better. The house was hot. I could feel it in my face.

“It seems,” said J.Lo, “it seems it would be the best if I stayed. There are things here to do. I can be a help to my family.”

He looked like he was going to say something else, then nodded and picked up some spoons. He dipped them in the water. I stood by him at the counter and dried as he washed.

“So it’s just like the milk shake cloners,” said Mom, looking at the booth. “But for people.”

She’d come home angry, unable to see Landry or even get near his building, for all the Gorg patrols around. So J.Lo and I told her about the telecloner, knowing that we couldn’t reach the Chief and we were almost out of time.

“It’s not just cloning, though,” I said. “It’s teleporting, too.”

“I don’t know that word.”

“A person or thing,” said J.Lo, “can be sent from one booth into another. To another booth on the Earth, or inside the Gorg ship. Maybies evento booths on other planets.”

“Like e-mailing a person,” said Mom.

“Yes.”

“I’m glad you told me. But we need to get other people in on this.”

I nodded.

“Mr. Hoegaarden was a police officer,” said Mom. “He knows some good people. Here. Take these books back to Mrs. Hoegaarden and see if anyone’s home.”

I took the books and walked across the casino, cutting through the kitchen to the Hoegaarden’s area. It was a smaller section than the slots floor where we lived, with only two apartments and a single wobbling ceiling fan that looked like it was trying to unstick itself and fly away. It was hard to tell one apartment from another, but they’d written their name on the back of a keno ticket and pinned it to their door. I knocked.

My knock was maybe the third loudest noise I’ve ever heard. That doesn’t sound as impressive as I’d like, but it had been quite a year for loud noises.

Mrs. Hoegaarden threw open the door.

“I didn’t do it,” I said. “I swear.”

I really hadn’t. The noise had actually come from out in the main hall. The air still rang with it.

We raced to the corner and peeked around to see a Gorg lift a change machine over his head.

Frightened people were pressed up against the walls, as far from Gorg as they could be. Just past him I saw the door he’d come through—it was a metal taco shell now, and dangling off one hinge.

“HUMAN PERSONS!” Gorg spat. “WHERE IS THE ONE CALLED GRATUITUCCI!”

Oh, God, I thought. Why is it always me?

“Um,” said Joachim, “who?”

“GRATUITUCCI! GRATUCCITY! OR SOMETHING SIMILAR!” said Gorg, and threw the machine to the floor. It spilled its silver guts out onto the carpet.

Our neighbors were silent. But they must have understood who Gorg was talking about. Mrs. Hoegaarden sure did.

“Oh, dear,” she said. “Listen: take this hall, go in the first door, through the office, through the door on the other side, and you’ll be in the hallway with the restrooms and the exit to the loading dock. Hurry!”

I did as she said and ran through the casino. I could still hear Gorg’s booming voice.

“I WAS TOLD TO GO TO THE LARGE OFFENSIVELY COLORED BUILDING. THE BUILDING WHERE HUMANS WHO ARE BAD AT MATH GIVE AWAY THEIR MONEY! THIS IS THAT PLACE! BRING ME GRATUITUCCI!”

I slipped through the last door and out to the blinding air, stumbled down off the loading dock, and sprinted around to the emergency exit where Slushious was parked. J.Lo was already there in his costume, tying the telecloner to the top of the car.

“I have Pig,” he whispered. “We should drive away—Gorg might smell me.”