Translucent whiskers akin to optical fibers had begun to sprout up from the edges of the floor much like weeds attempting to invade a long abandoned motel, painting a soft blue-ish white underglow throughout the house. Small terrariums of bioluminescent moss racked on shelves along the walls tinted the upper half of the space a yellow-green.

Alex noted the remarkably unusual method of residential illumination to be at once both stunningly beautiful and heartily bizarre, very much like a Dr. Seuss book. It was difficult to put into words the sensation he felt as he followed Lika’so through what felt like Wonderland inside of a house, but there wasn’t really any time to dwell on them.

The two had entered what Alex assumed to be a kitchen area, where a stone oven was nestled into the wall, and just to the left, a steel, pedal-operated sink that looked like it belonged in a steampunk comic. Set against the wall on the right was something Alex didn’t recognize: a large black box slightly larger than a chest freezer with several valves on the front, a handle on the top, and vents at the bottom on either side.

“What’s that?” Alex gestured to the unfamiliar machine.

“That’s a blaze chamber,” Lika’so replied as she pulled a cupbord open and retrieved a brown sack.

“What’s it for?”

“Boiling water, steaming vegetables, that sort of thing.”

Lika’so opened the sack and removed from it two green vegetables that looked like lumpy radishes. Small roots sprouted from its sides and a larger, thicker root protruded from the tip.

“What are those?”

“Akele.”

“Uh…”

Lika’so put one in his hand, “Smell it,” she said as she made her way over to the sink. As she began to pump the pedal, water streamed out of the faucet with much more force than Alex was expecting. She placed the vegetable under the jet of water, then took the brush that rested atop the sink and began scrubbing away at the thin layer of soil and plucking off the stray roots.

The rough texture of the vegetable was definitely what he was expecting: something akin to a radish, but it’s hefty weight came as a mild surprise. Alex placed it under his nose and took a deep breath.

It smelled mostly of dirt, but he caught hints of spicy and sweet, like a mix between a carrot and ginger. It tickled the back of his sinuses, but was quite refreshing, smelling like some sort of novelty pine toothpaste that was trying to imitate the scent, but just barely missing the mark.

Lika’so moved to the counter and pulled a drawer open. She removed a small (compared to a seven-and-a-half-foot-tall woman) serrated knife from it and placed the Akele on a cutting board, then began slicing it into thin pieces. Seconds later an amplified version of the aroma that had just been in Alex’s nose filled the room. The smell reminded him of the clouds of body spray that filled middle school boy’s locker rooms. Sort of nostalgic in a weird way, but didn’t bring back the fondest of memories. Alex hated gym class as a kid, but as an adult his views on physical activity had gotten more favorable. Maybe this vegetable could be used in perfumes or colognes? If Alex knew how to make fragrances, perhaps he would have attempted to bottle and sell it. He would, after all, need to get some kurn somehow. He couldn't live off of the kindness of Lika’so forever.

“You can wash that one, if you like,” Lika’so said, as she finished cutting the akele into about a dozen-and-a-half even slices.

“Sure,” Alex replied, “What are we making?”

“I don’t know yet, but I bought these earlier today and wanted to use them for something.” Lika’so mumbled the next part, talking to herself, “Maybe I’ll make a stew… No, you had that earlier-”

Alex shifted, “So, uh…” he turned the akele over in his hands. Lika’so looked at him. “I really appreciate what you’ve done for me. I’m- I don’t know where I’d be if you hadn’t found me when you did. Probably dead, I guess,” Alex looked at the akele, “Your hospitality wasn’t necessary, but you gave it to me anyway. I don’t know why you did it, but that doesn’t matter, I’m just lucky you did,” he shifted again, “What I’m trying to say is: I owe you. ” 

“No Alex,” Lika’so waved her hand to dismiss his last comment, “you don’t owe me anything. To be honest I-” she paused for a second, “I’m happy I met you. It’s not every day that an intelligent alien shows up uninjured and so close to civilization. I feel like I’m the lucky one here. I got to help somebody who needed it and make a new friend on the same day.”

Alex couldn’t understand that whimsical, rosey play logic. This wasn’t some kid’s movie, this was real life. Altruism rarely did anyone any favors, so why would she even care?

“But why do you trust me? For all you know, I could steal from you and kill you in your sleep. How do you know I’m not some despicable, manipulative villain?”

“I could direct that back at you,” Lika’so replied with a smirk, “You just came from another planet and you followed the first person you saw.”

“Sure, but I was disoriented and in shock. I went to sleep on sheets and woke up on grass. Part of me was still trying to convince myself that it was a dream.”

“Yes, and you wore those thoughts on your face like a mask. That’s why I trusted you. I’ve seen that same look before. It was so clear that you needed help. I think you still do need help.”

Alex smiled, “You’re not wrong about that,” he said as he waggled the akele by the stem, “I don’t know the first thing about cooking.”

Alex shot glances at Lika’so as she prepared various other vegetables and meat. She worked so quickly, like a professional chef on a caffeine rush. There wasn’t a wasted movement as she chopped the ingredients, sprinkled spices and poured oils. The motions seemed second nature to her, like she had made that same dish every day for thirty years.

Alex might as well not have been there at all. The only thing he managed to accomplish in that time was washing a couple of veggies for Lika’so to then dice up in half a second.

It was almost amusing how useless he was in that kitchen. Heck, he was probably slowing her down. She had to wait for him to finish scrubbing the vegetables before she could continue what she was doing. 

He was bottlenecking the process, but thankfully that didn’t seem to bother Lika’so. Though, he was a bit embarrassed. There was no world in which he would feel comfortable using a plural pronoun to describe this situation. They didn’t make supper, She did. Alex mostly just watched Lika’so’s master-level food prep in awe.

Lika’so’s expression went unchanged as she worked, as if she were in a mindless trance. The blade in her hand glided along vegetables as she peeled them with the accuracy and speed of a machine and she didn’t even need to see what she was doing. Alex was a hundred percent certain that he could have had a full conversation with her and she wouldn’t have even slowed down. Did she have this same level of efficiency when she made other dishes?

The chances of that were pretty high, Alex thought. Each individual step of the process could be isolated: the chopping, peeling, dicing. Those same motions carried over to other recipes, and Alex got the impression that Lika’so wasn’t a one-recipe kind of person. Maybe it was the fact that she had traveled the world, that urge to have new experiences, which gave him the impression. 

Alex, on the other hand, wasn’t as adventurous in his choice of food, mostly sticking to pre-made and packaged meals. He never touched his oven and only turned the stove on to make macaroni and cheese. Only on very rare occasions would he eat out: birthdays, season finales of Explorers, and when he was craving something a bit more flavorful than the raw fruits, vegetables and freezer food that made up his daily calorie intake for the past eleven years.

In the hour that followed the house had filled with a spectacular aroma as perfectly seasoned meats cooked and exotic vegetables were streamed. The temperature rose and the colliding scents foreshadowed the phenomenal meal that was just minutes away from taking place. The anticipation for the home-cooked meal was nearly hypnotic for Alex. The smell of the food in that kitchen was leagues stronger than any of the TV dinners he was so used to having. Compared to this, the smell that blasted out of the microwave seemed laughably artificial, and even a little insulting.

The vegetables were the first thing that had finished cooking and it took a lot of willpower for Alex not to stuff his face with the steaming hot orange, green, red, and purple vegetables. One: because he would have probably seared the taste buds off of his tongue, making it impossible for him to ever taste the fruits of Lika’so’s labor, and two (perhaps more importantly): it would be wildly impolite.

Two ceramic plates piled high with the vibrant vegetables and mouthwatering meat were set on the table, steam wafting off of them like ghostly wisps. There was more food than Alex thought would be needed for only two people, but he was soon proved wrong as he watched Lika’so  take a whole plate for herself and begin-with little effort-to whittle away at the rich, tender meat and hearty, seasoned vegetables between hefty swigs of water.

Alex, by contrast, was barely able to put down a quarter of what was on his own plate, but what he had consumed was leagues better than anything he’d ever eaten prior. Juice coated his mouth as he bit into the evenly cut chunks of meat, the flavor a blend of chicken and something that he couldn’t place. Salty, savory, and a hint of sweetness that added a character to the dish.

Starch, stalk, and root vegetables added a crunch to the otherwise soft and single-ingredient meal, each seasoned with salt and two other unfamiliar spices.

It was bliss. The last time he had eaten something comparable to this would have been back when he ate his mother’s home cooking.

Alex complemented Lika’so on the outstanding cuisine through stuffed cheeks, unable to wait until he’d finished what he’d shoveled into his mouth. He couldn’t recall a time when he’d eaten something so tasty that he neglected his manners.

Lika’so didn’t seem to mind though, responding with warm smiles and flattered chuckles for every comment. Perhaps etiquette was different in this world. An amusing thought crossed Alex’s mind: what if stuffing his face and giving muffled praise through a mouthful of food was a polite gesture, like what burping was in China and Taiwan?

Alex had to stifle a chuckle of his own to keep from choking. 

He decided he should pace himself for the remainder of the meal.

Alex dropped his fork onto the plate, tilted his head back, and closed his eyes. That was it. He couldn’t take another bite. He wanted more, but he knew there was no way it would fit. His belly looked like a basketball and every breath he took put pressure on this bloated stomach.

But it was worth it.

“You’re done already?” Lika’so asked.

Alex only groaned in response.

Lika’so chuckled, “Do you mind if I take the rest?”

Alex made a lazy shooing motion. He heard the plate slide across the table.

“Thank you,” Lika’so said.

“Mm hm,” Alex gave a weak thumb-up.

‘She must be hungry,’Alex thought.

For the next several minutes, the only sound in the room was that of the woman’s chewing, then it was silent.

Alex smirked, ‘Bit off more than you could chew, eh?’ He lifted his head up and looked across the table, ready to make a witty quip about her eyes being bigger than her stomach, but all he saw were two empty plates.

Alex sighed and his smirk widened into a smile, ‘Of course…’ She was thirty-five percent bigger than he was and looked like she burned twelve thousand calories a day. There weren’t even any signs that finishing that much food was a challenge for her either.

Lika’so returned the expression and said matter-of-factly, “I don’t like to waste food.”

“I can see why you wouldn’t. I don’t think I would want to throw out something that good either,” Alex replied with a chortle. “That aside, I’m also thoroughly impressed at your ability to turn food invisible.”

Lika’so smirked, “Yes, and all without casting, too. It’s a very special skill that takes centuries of practice to achieve.”