Emily Taylor - The Teenage Mum

  The town of Kastela centres on its port. Brightly coloured fishing boats and small coastal traders bob about on their moorings, waiting expectantly for their crews to arrive from Earth. Guarding the port, there's a little fortified island with a tall lighthouse painted in red stripes.

  We leave the bikes at Kastela and teleport around the other towns. While none of them is quite as spectacular as the capital, each is protected by strong walls and charming in its own way. I especially like Deia. Being up in the hills, the air is fresh and there's spectacular views out across the island and along the rugged east coast.

  Jesus is embracing his new role and has a working model of Camillo in the office he's set up at his and Azziz's house. The model is biometrically linked to the asteroid, so if you look closely you can see how the plants and animals are doing, how much snow is on the mountains and how full the reservoirs are. You can even see the two security moons orbiting. That's cool.

  Jesus says, 'Camillo needs to be self-sufficient for most things: energy, timber, stone and food. Things are set up so it should be sustainable but we'll keep an eye on it and fine tune as we go along. For things that need importing we'll need to trade. At the moment we have the velvet spring water, Azziz's rum and my wine. We'll look at some light manufacturing, like designer label clothes and letting a few tourists in so we don't get too insular.'

  He seems to have it all in hand; I'll leave him to it.

  Then I remember, there's something missing, people! 'What about people?' I ask.

  'Who would you like?' asks Jesus.

  I'd like Azulay, but I'm not telling him that. 'Let's get who we need first, then grab a few interesting ones to make life a little zany,' I suggest, then add, 'I don't want weirdos again.'

  'Leave it to me and the slugs,' says Jesus. 'I plan to start with mostly European people in Kastela, Asian in Campos, Arab and Indian in Alaro, and African in Deia. English will be the official language and religion will be tolerated as long as respect is shown for other beliefs.'

  'Sounds perfect!' I say. 'Thanks so much.' I give him a big hug and forgive him all his Prince Charlesy moments.

  26

  I do like these new clouds. The old ones were grumpy, disagreeable and predictable. The new ones are all over the place. They seem to work more as a team, hanging out together around the hilltops. They're ever so mischievous. I can leave the house with a clear cloudless sky, arrive in the garden in the middle of a rain squall and have to ask Castor to help me find my way back to the house with my bunch of carrots because the fog's so thick. It must be their first asteroid cos the weather's very clumsy.

  With the topsy-turvy September weather we're spending more time indoors. Normally the kids would drive me spare but for some odd reason, I've got clucky. I want more.

  'You must be mad,' says Annie.

  I probably am.

  'And who's going to be the dad anyway?'

  'Never you mind!'

  It might just be that I'm back in my house again or maybe it's because my heart has started aching. I don't know what it is at first; I think I might be going to have a heart attack. Then I notice that if I think of Zula, the pain is much sharper. I don't know if it's him thinking of me or me thinking of him, but one thing is for sure, the connection between us is getting stronger. The dull pain is reassuring and when it fades, I worry that I've lost him and want it to come back. Then it comes back stronger later on. Yes!

  One evening the pain piques sharply. I click my fingers to get the worm.

  I arrive in the thick of an argument.

  'You're off in the desert, then you come back and say you're missing Emily. What about missing me and your children?' shouts Ijju, stomping her feet.

  'I didn't mean it like that,' pleads Zula, lamely.

  'What do you mean it like? Why don't you go and see her in Paradise? I'll help you on the way,' she screams, throwing a saucepan at him and collapsing in tears as it smashes into the wall, taking a big chunk of plaster off.

  Stupid plonker. Oh Ijju, I do feel for you. I wish I could give her a hug.

  A couple of nights later, when I've sort of half forgiven him for treating my friend like that, I click my fingers and he's here beside me. I savour his smell and hold him tight. He comes to life and ooh-la-la!

  'Mum, mum, mum, wake up,' I wake up groggily. It's daylight and Lilly is tugging at me. The cover disappears off the bed and she screams. 'Mum, a man, a man!'

  Zula jumps up. Looks at me, then looks at Lilly and back to me. 'Emily?' he asks.

  Nelly comes running in. Vinny starts crying next door.

  Nelly looks at Zula, looks at me and says, 'Dad?'

  Zula looks at her then back to me again and pinches his arm really hard. His face creases with the pain. He freaks and runs from the room. I run after him, naked.

  He's out the door and heading down the path to the garden. I'm hot on his tail; I'm fast. We chase through the sugar cane and across the field.

  'Zula, stop!' I shout, but he keeps going, following the track.

  I chase him up the hill. He trips and falls but is up on his feet again before I can catch him. At the top, I'm hot on his heels. 'Stop, stop, Azulay, stop!' I scream.

  Not seeing the edge, he tumbles over and falls towards the waves far below..

  I scream, then gather my wits and think Zen. I click my fingers.

  Click!

  I'm nearly out of range of the worm, but get a faint image of Zula tumbling down the side of a sand dune.

  I guess he won't be in a hurry to come back. He's gone!

  No Hi Em, cool to see you. No, he just took one look at me, freaked out and ran away. I stomp my feet, curl up in a little ball and go into melt down.

  Am I that nasty? Does he hate me? Have I taken advantage of him, using him as a mobile sperm bank that I summon with a click of my fingers? What a monster I am! The evil, scheming Emily that lures him off to the far side of the Solar System to have her wicked way with him then spits his spent body out, sending it tumbling back to Earth.

  I pick up a rock and throw it at a seagull. It squawks angrily at me as it dodges out the way.

  Maybe it was my kids that did it. His kids! Our kids! Now that would be enough to make anyone freak!

  Well even if he hates me, I kinda like him.

  Just as well too, because he’s left his calling card. A few weeks later my body starts doing weird things, weird and very familiar. I'm not sure I'm happy about it. Four will be too many; I can't even cope with three.

  My heart keeps aching. It looks like it's a pain that's here to stay.

  27

  There's no sign of my prickly cagoon, Negrita. I hope she wasn't gobbled up by the slimeballs. She might be with Tat. I would love to spend all day and hike up to his shack in the mountains to visit but it's one of those pleasures that don't go hand in hand with having kids; I teleport instead.

  He's not in. There's fresh hoof prints in the mud, so I follow them up through the cloud and stunted beech trees. I find Tat in a small clearing. It's a beautiful place surrounded by gnarled trees, their twisted silhouettes softened by the mist. Trigger snorts a friendly welcome and comes to see me. Tat stands motionless, and alert, his eyes shut tight. I open the little cage in my pocket. Enzo hasn't been out for ages. He whizzes around the clearing then jiggles about in front of Tat, taunting him. Tat moves like a blur, I don't even see what happens. Then he bounces over to me and gives me a hug. Standing back, he opens his hand and out flies Enzo, who dips slightly in a polite bow. Tat bows back then Enzo shoots off looking for the cagoon.

  'I've been thinking,' says Tat.

  'You have the perfect place for it,' I say.

  'The tiger came first, followed by the monkey and the crane. Now kung fu enters the age of the cagoon. Coming out of nowhere and striking with razor sharp claws and a breath of fire.'

  There's a flicker of black, a flash of claws and Negrita picks Enzo out of the air, tumbling back to the ground and rolling to a halt at m
y feet. She lets Enzo go, then looks up at me, flattens her ears and snarls. I reach down to stroke her. She hisses and breathes fire, then draws blood with a lightning strike of her claws. She's so adorable. Not!

  I give Trigger a rub behind the ear. He pushes back against me, nearly knocking me off my feet, 'So when are you going to come and visit, then?'

  He gives a friendly whinny and trots off into the mist.

  We walk back to the hut, with Enzo and Negrita charging around like crazy things, happy to see each other again after so long apart.

  The kids are delighted that Trigger is here. He's giving them pony rides around the front lawn. The six kids, all up on top of Trigger together is one of those things I wish I had a camera for. I'll make a sketch of it later. Trigger is not so delighted. He has a dark cloud hovering over his head and is sending out sarky Unilangue messages.

  Kids pony rides. Pah, and Oh, the shame of it. Trigger, the greatest horse in the West, giving pony rides, and Grumble, I'm just not this sort of a horse, grumble, grumble!

  It'll do him good.

  He's ever so patient with the kids, who pull his mane and do their best to get under his feet. Once I can see he's reached his limit, I give him some carrots and gallop him along the beach and back, splashing through the waves and getting thoroughly soaked.

  Vinny's found the white rings. He's pulled everything out of the drawer in my bedside table, probably looking for chocolate, and is sitting proudly in the middle of the bed wearing a white ring on each wrist as a bracelet. He touches them together, there's a blinding flash of white light and he's gone. I scream.

  Sploop!

  Castor lands on top of me, crushing me against the floor, with just my head sticking out. He swings his yellow tail around so I can see he's got Vinny.

  'Thanks Castor, where was he?'

  'In 1763, I dived in and got him before he got too settled. Time travel is tricky, another few seconds and we could have lost him. You must be more careful.'

  'Castor, you're a star.'

  He looks around at me with big soft eyes, blinking his long lashes bashfully.

  'I can see your yellow bits,' I tease and tickle him. He's so ticklish. He drops Vinny and shakes and wobbles, letting out a deep rumbling giggle.

  'Stop, stop, stop,' he pleads.

  I stick my fingers tips into his yellow sliminess and give him another tickle.

  Plop!

  He's gone.

  The clouds are settling in. They've spent all their energy chasing each another about in the autumn gales and now winter has arrived, the weather has settled down. We have a couple of stormy days with lots of wind and rain followed by bright, crisp sunshine for the rest of the week. Sometimes there's not a cloud in the sky.

  'There won't be a Christmas on Camillo,' says Jesus.

  'That's a bit rash, isn't it?'

  'We'll still have my birthday on the 25th of December. This year I'll make it our house warming party, but for the residents of Camillo, I'm moving Christmas to the New Year and changing its name. It'll be the same; I'm just shifting the present giving and feasting to another day. I’m moving the winter solstice too because it’s all out of sync. Then the celebration will be the finishing of one year in people's lives and the start of another, with all the promise and opportunity that comes with it. It’s a much better thing to celebrate than some four thousand year old anode's birthday.'

  He does have a point. 'How are you going to sell it to the people?' I ask.

  'Me and Azziz are going to make a tour of the island and visit the people. We're filling up nicely now and by the end of the year should reach the target for Camillo's population. I'll be in human form and Azziz will stand in as me, no one will notice the difference, one alien reptile thingy is much the same as the next. People listen to Jesus, they worship him. I'll perform a few miracles to get their attention. I'll tell them that I'm leaving the running of the asteroid to this anode, who by chance is also called Jesus, and introduce Azziz as me.’

  ‘Got it,’ I say, struggling to get my head around what he’s saying.

  'He'll say a few words about what we expect from the people and what they can expect from us. He'll explain the political system: the towns folk will vote for councillors and a mayor. The mayors will meet with me to discuss things and I will make the decisions. Democracy is a bloody nightmare so we'll take the best of it but have me in charge so things actually get done.'

  'Good luck,' I say. 'People are tricky.'

  'We'll warn them about slimeballs and the moons will give a demonstration of our firepower.'

  'That should make them sit up,' I say.

  'I hope so.'

  'So,' I ask, 'if Christmas is the New Year what are you going to call it?'

  'Zwingly.'

  'It does have a nice ring about it, but won't it be confusing?'

  'No, no one here knows an asteroid called Zwingly exists.'

  'Not yet, but where are your tourists going to come from? I'd keep calling it Christmas if I was you,' I say. 'Then you're just shifting the date, cancelling it all together won't go down well.'

  'Okay, I'll try that and in five hundred years, I'll change the name.'

  I love Jesus's long-term view of things.

  28

  Nelly is five on the 17th of December. Us girls have a few drinks the night before to celebrate my five years of motherhood. I might have thrown Nelly out the window on one occasion but I haven't lost or murdered them, yet. Annie and me end up on the roof at three in the morning singing and howling at the sentry moons as they pass overhead. I fall off and land in a bush then wake up slumped over the toilet with a thick head. My baby wakes me up, kicking and complaining inside me. I guess he doesn't feel any better than I do.

  I face the kids’ party with about as much enthusiasm as a gaucho faced with a tofu and bean sprout salad. Feeling very delicate and just a little green, I keep having to visit the toilet. The kids are all excited and twice as loud as normal. I wish someone would turn the volume down. I'm not sure if I am going to survive another five years of motherhood.

  Nelly is getting a bicycle for her birthday, with the idea that she can ride it to school. That'll get her out of my hair. I don't like the idea of training wheels so quietly slip them out of the package and let Enzo suck them in. By the time, three days later, that Nelly has finally mastered riding it, we've all got bad backs and Janice is lying flat on her front on the hard floor groaning while all six kids jump up and down on her back.

  Nelly is dead keen on school. I'm a bit nervous. I haven't met any of the people yet. The last lot were all a bit odd. I could take the photon canon along, just in case, but it might not give the right impression. I can always kung fu the mums if they turn nasty and I know Castor and Pollux will be watching.

  It's a frosty morning and the sun is just rising as me and Nel coast down the hill to Kastela, cross the drawbridge and enter through the huge studded gates. The school is just inside the walls of the town. It has a timeless, battered look as if generations of locals have done their schooling there. The people milling in the courtyard are all European, mostly white skinned but with a liberal sprinkling of black, Arab and Chinese. They're all really friendly, like people are when they arrive somewhere new. I immediately like the school. It's open and friendly and I can see straight away that Nelly is going to like it. A teacher shows us to Nelly's classroom and sorts her out with a desk and all the things she needs. Nelly starts playing with some of the kids, ignoring her mum completely.

  I don't want to leave her. She's bound to need me for something. Her teacher, Mrs Malony, finally takes me by the arm and shows me the door. I sit in a cafe and cry. It's like I've lost an arm or a leg. My baby has left me; she's grown up and gone to school. The owner of the cafe is a lovely Italian, who has so far managed to pick up about four words of English. He gives me free coffee and I get the impression he wants me to marry his son, who is still in Sicily but should be here soon.

  It's funny hea
ring the conversations at the other tables. Two mums with babes in arm are comparing scars and reliving their gory deaths, while a couple of Scotsmen complain about this weird heaven they've ended up in and whinge about the weather and the taxes.

  I hang about in town all day, just in case Nelly needs her mum or something. I don't know how they'll contact me but that's not important, I'll be here just in case. I stroll around the port looking at the fishing boats and walk around the walls and look across the patchwork of orange roofs and out to sea. The time passes so slowly; surely she is missing me by now? I know she is. I wait outside the school gate for ages willing the clock on towards the final bell.

  Riiiiiiiiiiing!

  It finally sounds and kids scamper past screaming and yelling as they head for home. Nelly runs past as if I'm not there. Suddenly I'm surplus to requirements. I have to struggle to hold it together; I don't want her to see me in tears.

  She is tired but exhilarated. We leave the bikes and I carry her home on my shoulders

  Jesus's birthday is a lot of fun. It runs for over a week. We thought of making it exclusively for our friends but decided that that wasn't very welcoming for the new Camilleans, so it's an open invitation for all. We're just not telling anyone except those people we want to come, our friends.

  We run a daily bus service from Zwingly starting on Christmas Eve and running through to after the New Year, with bicycles and horses available for those who want to explore the charms of Camillo. Jesus thinks it's a good way to kick off the tourist industry.