"I love babies, but I can never eat a whole one," she said to the group. Everyone laughed, although some with less enthusiasm.
"Who is that strange woman?" a newcomer to the party asked. "Dare I let my kids around her?"
"Oh, that's Perri. She jokes about babies being the other white meat and such, but she gets along with all the children just fine. We tell her she just needs to finally have some of her own, but she says she's just not the type to handle them and has enough health issues and projects to keep her busy. She actually kinda does have enough allergies to air and food that it becomes almost easy to believe her saying she's an alien. Funny, right?"
Perri could sense the gaze of the blond mother of three gawking at her from across the park. Holding tightly onto her umbrella, she walked over to what she instantly decided was a horrible excuse for a human based on her sixth sense about brain activity.
"Nice day, so why the umbrella?" the “waste of flesh” asked.
"Not big on burning alive. You?"
The mother sputtered out a chuckle and made a quick getaway. "You really shouldn't frighten the noobs like that, Perri," Matt said. "I know, I know, you never get along with women in that way. Chicks are always flirting with you, but I guess you don’t really get along with them, either. Still, you could try and make a little effort. 'Every now and then, declare peace with your enemies. It thoroughly confuses them.' Isn't that your favorite Star Trek quote?"
"Close enough, yes, but I try to save that for when I know someone well enough to find them an enemy. It’s not even worth exerting dislike towards someone with so little brain activity. That new woman: Not worth the time and effort. Just wasted space."
Matt laughed. “Oh, Perri. Tsk. Tsk. God will see fit to shower you with babies one day, and where will you be then?”
“Believing in God, apparently. And that doesn’t seem likely. Also, I’d have to invite the whole neighborhood for a barbecue if I got that many babies at once. Still, why doesn’t a baby shower involve an actual showering of babies? That might be more fun than the incredibly boring stuff that happens at those things. Guys go out and celebrate with intoxication and everything they assume their wives will never again let them do, while girls play with rice, safety pins, and diapers. (Something about proving you can pin a diaper with your hand tied behind your back. Not exactly relevant to a world of Velcro, one would think.) I obviously chose the wrong gender when I put on my alien disguise, but I thought this one was cute,” she said as she posed.
“You don’t have to tell me,” said Matt. “But try not to do too much of that posing while my wife is in sight, please? You know she’s getting worried that I talk to you so much.”
Perri rolled her eyes at him.
“I know, I know. You may have me convinced that you don’t find guys with kids remotely attractive, but she still thinks I’m hot, okay? Don’t burst my bubble too quickly of being maybe not God’s gift to women but at least His gift to one or two, okay?” His three-year-old came running up to him, a stay-at-home dad, and started jabbering incessantly like only a child of that age can.
“Again with the need to bring your imaginary deity into it? Fine. God loves you and thus gave you this brat and wished you luck raising her. I think I will do the same. See you later.”
Perri parked in front of the glorified aluminum can she called a home, looking at the houses of her neighbors. Most of the neighborhood of newly wed and nearly dead took pride in their yards, but she avoided the evil day star on this planet ad trouble breathing when she attempted gardening, but the invasiveness of someone coming to do it for her was definitely not preferable to letting it grow tall in a protective fashion. Sadly, the ideal twelve-foot fence was not legal. There was something about mown grass that was so exposing, but she knew they wished she would care for her yard. They even called the city on her several years in a row for her overgrown weeds being a fire hazard.
Well, at least the neighborhood was quiet ever since the Christensen’s left. Perhaps, despite their protests otherwise, they were actually the nosiest neighbors and not just the noisiest, because this year her weeds were taller than most people but no one had mailed a warning letter that she would be charged $40 a day for not fulfilling her duty to the city to keep it “neat and well-trimmed.” Their grandkids went missing one day a few months ago and they had to get away from everything reminding them of it.
She walked into the semi-dilapidated building and drew in a deep breath. The air filter was doing its job and made at least her home air tolerable. She walked into the living room and sat down. There was nothing edible at the picnic, so she was feeling hungry. Sure, she’d tried some concoction vaguely resembling a salad (it seemed to include dry ramen noodles), and her digestive system was calling out its revenge There was never anything to eat at those human gatherings. She had often tried to find truly edible offerings, but neither flora nor fauna seemed to agree with her system. Most of her friends ate either all meat or all vegetables. How strange.
That reminds me, Perri thought. That meat is going to go bad before long. Human child with freezer burn becomes far too gamey to be edible. Best not have that.
She went outside to turn on the gas barbecue and hurried back in to thaw the meat.
After dinner, she heard muffled ringing. She had left the cordless phone under the blankets again from her late-night phone calls. Dan’s name was showing on the Caller ID and she smiled.
“Yeeeeees?” she answered.
“I figured out what you need on that ages-old computer of yours to make it work. Can I come over?” he pled.
“You know I am not comfortable with guys in my house, Dan. Why don’t I just come and get it?”
“No, I have to install it and it’s high time you let me into your house. Come on, already.”
“Fine, but you can’t stay long. I…I’m just not comfortable with company. You know all that.”
“Yes! On my way. Score!”
Perri quickly glanced around the room. Did humans randomly rummage through other people’s fridges? They sure seemed to on TV. No, that wasn’t likely. She hid the blood bag, slicer, and other favorite knives in the closet. She always laughed that her neighbors never realized it was blood and bonemeal that kept her garden growing up to the moon. She didn’t want to draw attention from anyone by pouring much down the drain, but a yard full of plants did wonders to process such things.
The doorbell rang. Perri took a deep breath of the sanitized air and opened the door. She was finally letting Dan, her closest friend, into her home. She had told him it was a bad experience with an abusive ex-roommate that kept her wanting her space. But he seemed too curious for his health. It was best to let him in and get it over with.
“H-h-hi” he said.
“Greetings. Come in. The computer is straight through here,” she said, feeling somewhat foolish to be so concerned for so long.
“Got anything to eat? I’m famished,” said Dan as he bulldozed past her towards the fridge.
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