“You are really are from another planet, you
know that, Benny,” Ray groused as he drove a wet and shivering Fraser back to
West Racine Street. He’d insisted on the Mountie removing as much of his soaked
clothing as was allowable by law in order to safeguard the upholstery of the
Riv. Fraser was wearing only his boxers under the blanket that Ray always kept
in the trunk for just such happenstances as a Mountie taking literally
someone’s admonition to go jump in the lake.
The
blanket only came down to the Mountie’s knees and his naked shins and feet
rested exposed to Ray’s view. Ray glanced at them while he was stopped at a red
light. He’d only seen Fraser’s bare feet once before and that was while they
were drowning in that vault. At that time he hadn’t been interested in
examining these appendages too closely, having other things, such as imminent
death, on his mind at the time.
But
Ray looked at them now and it struck him how small and soft and pink Fraser’s
feet were. Almost as though they hardly got any wear and tear. He chuckled to
himself thinking that if Fraser really were from another planet, it must have a
much lower gravity and that would be why he had such apparently underused
tootsies. It would explain a lot about his behaviour too, he mused as he drove
off again.
At
the next light, Ray turned to his friend again, towards his face this time,
intending remind him that he would have to change quickly so they could get
back to Ray’s house by six, the time decreed by Ma for dinner. He was taken by
surprise at the expression on Fraser’s face. He was not wearing the usual bland
look that accompanied his listening to some recitation by Ray of his defects.
He seemed pensive, his brows furrowed in concentration.
“Something
wrong, Fraser?” Obviously there was, but Ray wondered what his chances were of
getting his friend to tell him what it was.
“I
. . . it’s . . .,” Fraser began, then turned his head away to look out the
window.
“Look
at me, not the scenery, man,” Ray insisted. “What gives?”
Fraser
turned back and Ray noticed tears in his eyes. “You’ve saved my life again,
Ray. At the risk of your own. I never thought I’d ever have a friend for who
cares for me as much as you do.”
“Aw,
don’t start getting mushy on me,” Ray protested although inside he felt all
warm and fuzzy.
“And
you know I’d do anything for you, don’t you, Ray?”
Ray’s
eyes began to leak bits of wetness, not quite tears yet but threatening to grow
into tears if the conversation went on much more in this direction.
“There’s
something I’ve been wanting to tell you, Ray. But I haven’t dared.”
Something
significant was coming, that’s for sure. Ray, embarrassed, wasn’t sure he was
ready to hear anything heavy but steeled himself. “Spill it, buddy.”
Let’s
wait until we get back to my apartment, Ray.”
They
spoke no more until they reached Fraser’s place.
_____________________________
Once
home, Fraser seemed to forget that he was intending to impart anything
important and Ray didn’t push the issue. Fraser hung his wet clothes and Ray’s
blanket over the radiators in his hallway and living room, then retreated to
his bedroom.
Ray
poked about in Fraser’s refrigerator for something to drink while the Mountie
was changing. “Don’t you have anything
in here but milk?” he called towards the bedroom.
Fraser
emerged in his usual off-duty apparel: lumberjack shirt and jeans. In his hand
Fraser held his bathroom water glass, half filled with water.
“If
I wanted water, I could have got it from the kitchen sink,” Ray observed. “And
can’t you afford to fill the . . .”
But
Fraser’s expression was so serious that Ray stopped mid-gripe.
“Sit
down, please, Ray. There’s something important I have to discuss with you.”
Ray
dropped onto a kitchen chair and waited. Fraser drew another chair beside his
and sat down near, very near. He held the glass of water as though it were a
precious thing.
Ray
had a sudden wild thought. What if Fraser was going to tell him he really was
an alien? Well, why not? We made
contact with the Martians two years ago, after all. Who knows what other kind
of aliens there might be? Wait 'til Frannie hears, she’ll freak!
Fraser
cleared his throat, and then began. “Ray, when you were saying in the car that
I was from another planet, it made me think that the time had come for me to
tell you . . .”
“That
you’re a Martian, right?”
“No,
Ray, I’m not a Martian, not genetically at any rate. But I was raised on Mars.
My name really isn’t Benton Fraser. It’s Valentine Michael Smith.”
“The
Man from Mars!” Ray gasped.
“Yes,
Ray.”
Everybody
knew about the human who had been brought back from the second Mars expedition
two years ago. The first expedition had been thirty-two years before and
contact had been lost before anyone knew if they had even reached Mars. But the
second expedition later had landed and made contact with the Martians, a
sentient species with a civilization that dated back hundreds of thousands of
their years.
The
Martians shared with these newer visitors certain facts about the earlier
expedition. They seemed to be holding back something, according to the
expedition’s leader, but he wasn’t about to go insisting that they explore it
at that juncture. The Martians described the crash of the earlier craft and
finding only one person alive, a newborn baby. This baby they raised as one of
themselves, but were more than happy to turn the child, now a grown man, over
to the newly arrived humans. Records found in the remnants of the smashed craft
revealed that the scientists who had been his parents, Doctor and Doctor Smith,
had named their son “Valentine Michael”.
A
great deal of media coverage greeted the newly arrived “Man from Mars” when he
got back to Earth. But after only a few weeks the press reported that he had
gone to live in the Andes, in a climate more like the one in which he had been
raised. Ray, when he ever thought about it, had figured that probably was
hogwash, but there was very little chance of the public ever learning the truth
anyway. Ray never had any reason to
make a connection between the disappearance of The Man from Mars and the
arrival of Benton Fraser in Chicago on the trail of the killers of his father.
“You’re
a Martian.”
“No,
Ray. I’m human. I was just raised on Mars. And you’ve helped me learn human
customs and been my friend.”
It
was a lot to take in. Knowing there were aliens on the planet next door was one
thing, but it seemed now his best friend had actually been raised with them
“Ray,
I’d like you to perform a ritual with me. It’s a Martian thing. Its called
‘sharing water’ and it is the deepest kind of bonding we know. It’s something
like being adopted and something like getting baptized and something like getting
married. It means that I am yours and you are mine, forever.
“Martians are gay?” This was an aspect of
Martian life that Ray didn’t want to know about, if this were so, and he wasn’t
sure he could go along with this, for all that he loved Fraser as a brother.
“Martians
don’t have sex in the human sense. They reproduce differently. But here among
humans I’ve learned sex is also for growing closer. It’s usually between males
and females but I’ve learned not exclusively so. If you wanted to grow closer in
that way I’d be willing to do it to make you happy. But that’s not what being water brothers is about.” Fraser said
this as blandly as if he were discussing the difference between human and
Martian footwear.
“It’s
about being brothers,” Ray fought to grasp all the new concepts being thrown at
him.
“Much
more than that. I wish I could explain it to you in Martian, neither English
nor Italian have a word for this kind of one-ness.”
Ray
swallowed hard. “What do we have to do?”
“We
share the water of life,” Fraser said. Very slowly and deliberately he raised
the water to his lips and took a tiny sip, all the while keeping his eyes fixed
on Ray’s face. Then, with great solemnity he extended the glass to Ray. “I
offer you water, my brother. May you never thirst.”
Ray
hesitated. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for Fraser, no, Smith, but he was
confused. He met Fraser’s eyes and there he saw an expression that transcended
all of friendship or lust. Fraser was
dry-eyed and intent, focusing all of his being on Ray. Ray sat entranced in the
gaze until he tapped into a familiar comparison. Take the way Ma looked at him
sometimes and multiply it by ten. Ray’s own eyes let fall the tears that he had
held back in the car.
It
was all connected. Water from getting dunked in the lake, water from his eyes,
water from Benny’s glass. The water of life.
Ray
reached out and took the glass from Fraser’s hand. Their fingers touched in the
act and Ray let his hand rest against his friend’s for an instant. “Never
thirst, my brother,” he intoned, as though saying a prayer. He drank. Then he
put the glass on the table. “Let’s get
going, my brother. Our mother’s got dinner waiting.”
End