Mellow but Yellow

Jimmy ran a small cafe known for its warm ambience and the rich aroma of coffee that welcomed anyone looking for refuge from the cold outside world. Well, not anyone, just humans.

There had been talk of settlers integrating into towns across the country, but the chatter at the Early and Latte café was that Haberfield was too small to accommodate any. People were sympathetic that the alien world had become uninhabitable, but angry, too, because this one wasn’t doing too well either.

“It’s a big universe, so why here?” Sally said, looking up at a TV news interview with a settlement leader. Sally was an office cleaner, hydrating after her daybreak shift. “Got one of them in the block with me. Zia. Yellow skin, weird hands. Seven long fingers. Good at cleaning computer keyboards, but you know…. Doesn’t say much. Her daughter’s working in the old clock tower, scampering over metalwork that rusted a lifetime ago. Pointless, and we’re paying for that from our taxes.”

“Come on, Sally, it’d be nice to see the clock tower working again. Nobody else has wanted to do that job. At least they’re trying to fit in.”

“Trying to take over more like.” Sally slurped her remaining coffee, pushing counted coins towards Jimmy as he dried a ceramic mug. A few other barstool patrons muttered their agreement. 

Jimmy was proud of his family business, but some customers were jerks. The settlers had lost everything, travelled for generations, learned a new language, changed their diet, and endured months of hostility and suspicion without a hint of retaliation. He wanted to reach out to one of the local settlers, taking some refreshments for the unseen female fixing the clock. 

Mia worked daily in the old clock tower, focusing on the intricate gears and springs that once told the time for the town below. Her world was one of precision and solitude; her slim but strong digits dismantled, repaired and cleaned the components of the town’s redundant focal point.

Jimmy climbed the winding staircase of the clock tower. He found Mia, a petite, big-eyed girl of gold complexion and black hair covered in grease, her brow furrowed in concentration. He offered coffee and a salad sandwich, which she tentatively accepted.

“Thank you for the kindness. I like it. You are a nice man,” Mia said.

Jimmy looked at the shy creature squatting on a large cog, which she was painstakingly cleaning with a wire brush. Her dark eyes blinked at him.

“You’re welcome. I mean, not just the refreshments. Your family and others that have settled in our country, on Earth. It was sad to hear about your history, but knowing we are not alone is reassuring and comforting.” Jimmy said.

“People are afraid because we are different. We understand and want to help the people of Earth to learn from our mistakes. We can learn together.” She said, her face forcing an unaccustomed muscle gesture called smiling, learned at integration training.

In the cold tower, they bonded. Jimmy would bring coffee and meals for Mia, ensuring she remembered to eat during long working hours. In return, Mia shared snippets of knowledge about her once verdant world and the mechanics of clocks, her passion clear. 

Days turned into weeks. The clock tower, formerly a place of exclusion for Mia, became a shared space. The complexity and beauty of Mia's old world fascinated Jimmy. A planet with two stars that provided constant daylight but caused overheating and forced a survival pilgrimage in darkness and hope. Mia discovered the joy of having someone to talk to, who listened with genuine interest to understand the enormity of the journey that Mia and Zia’s ancestors had undertaken and achieved. Many had died in collisions with asteroids. Before reaching Earth, they had assessed and rejected several planets.

The day the clock ticked back to life again, its chimes ringing across the town, Mia and Jimmy stood side by side, a sense of accomplishment enveloping them and others. The town celebrated the return of their beloved clock, but for Mia and Jimmy, the joy ran deeper. They had found unexpected companionship in each other.

“Well done, Mia. You did it. You fixed our clock. It is part of the town again. I am so proud of you.” Jimmy said.

“James, thank you. You did something, too. I, with my mother, feel part of the town now.” Mia said. Her dimpled cheeks flushed deep yellow as their gaze met.

Jimmy noticed. He, too, felt something unexpected, something taboo. 

Their extraordinary terrestrial relationship continued to grow from moments they shared: a cup of coffee in the café with shared family stories, new food experiences and the comfortable silence that spoke of understanding and mutual respect. Jimmy marvelled at the chronicles of the settlers’ journey from a distant galaxy in search of a new life-supporting planet.

Mia and Jimmy had found something rare in each other's company, a bond forged by the everyday act of showing up, being there, and sharing the small, somewhat insignificant parts of life that, when woven together, create something special. The steadfast companionship that grew between them marked their story, reminding us that sometimes the most profound connections are built in the simplest of ways through shared time and shared lives rather than the usual signposts of romance.

Conversation in the cafe reflected a shift in the community as the settlers revealed more about the demise of their planet and the sacrifice made by a few thousand pioneers. A journey across unimaginable distances of emptiness in search of sanctuary. Sally even taught Zia how to knit, and they became good friends.

The settlers proved to be highly skilled engineers with advanced technologies and knowledge of harnessing solar and geothermal energy, manipulating the climate and growing tasty new fruits and vegetables from their world. The merged civilisations accepted each other due to their shared challenges and compatible biological similarities, but the need to avoid loneliness made it inevitable.