The Khar D’ashia

I sat with my mother-in-law in silence. My wife's idea and I would do anything to make her happy: to have brunch with her mother and her mother’s friends in the rest home dining hall, waited upon by nurses.

If I told you it was the happiest moment in my life, I would be lying.

We sat at a drab table-clothed table, four of us having the privilege of spending time together. There was a faint damp smell in the air like the carpets had been specially cleaned for the occasion.

One diner at our table was an old man, maybe from India, who didn't seem to know any English, but had a seductive smile. Another companion was an old lady, with thinning grey hair, and a prominent mole on the side of her face. She didn't seem to remember anything when asked.

And next to me, in her wheelchair, was my mother-in-law, Maricia.

I'd always considered her a force of nature, but that would be unfair to nature. My wife had been hesitant to introduce her to me for months when we started dating as she was scared I might run away from the family. An irrational fear I thought at the time. Oh, the benefit of hindsight.

She was part of the alien race Khar D’ashia. They were a humanoid species and genetically compatible with our kind. My dear Khalesa was half Khar D’ashia and half human. Her mother was fully alien.

She was taller than me, but thinner. That's how I could tell she was hungry. She had no hair. Her peach-colored skin had purple hues in the folds, and she had two yellow eyes and a dislocatable jaw. It was hard to believe my beautiful wife Khalesa was related.

The underpaid nurses in their white uniforms were slowly serving tables plates of beans, eggs, hash browns, and boiled tomatoes. I bet it wasn't in their job description.

It’d likely taste half-baked, I imagined, I didn't think I could stomach it. I didn't think I could stomach the company any longer either. ‘I better get going,’ I said, getting up to leave.

‘But your food hasn't arrived.’ Maricia extended one of her tentacles and pushed at my shoulder, forcing me down. It was warm and when she finally removed it, there was a slimy patch left on my black jacket.

I nodded and stayed. I almost passed a bowel motion forthwith, but held on.

‘What’s your name?’ I asked the Asian elderly gentleman. He nodded and smiled and shimmied his head slightly. Well, at least I’d made the effort.

I turned to the lady sitting opposite, boasting the prominent mole. ‘How long have you been in this rest home?’

‘I’m not quite sure dear,’ she replied, waving away the question. ‘Do you come here often?’ she enquired back.

‘Not often enough,’ said Maricia, glaring at me. She blinked her eyelids sideways.

I laughed nervously and Maricia sneered.

‘Grace,’ Maricia said, eyeing her friend, ‘I've frequently wondered how you’d taste.’

‘Is that so, my dear? How interesting.’

The old man nodded and smiled.

‘What on earth do you mean, Maricia?’ I asked.

‘I mean, they shouldn't have served us last.’ She seized Grace with both her tentacles, lifted her above her head, dislocated her jaw, and swallowed her whole.

I screamed.

The old man nodded and smiled.

A nurse came by. ‘Now Maricia you know that is dreadfully bad manners, put Grace back.’

Like a naughty child, she shook her head.

‘Come on, or I'll take you back to your room without food.’

‘Fine,’ she huffed. She regurgitated Grace onto the floor next to her.

Grace sat crumpled on the floor all gooey and wet and coughed. The nurse helped her to her feet and escorted her out of the dining room.

There was a hush but slow chatter resumed.

The old man next to me nodded and smiled.

‘Here you go,’ a nurse said, placing a plate in front of me, ‘enjoy.’

She also placed a plate in front of Maricia but not the old man.

Maricia proceeded to eat hungrily, not needing to dislocate her jaw this time.

I held back, aware not everyone had their meal yet, and not wanting to come across as rude.

‘Please,’ the old man said, signaling for me to start.

I cut into a sausage but seemed to have lost my appetite.

‘Did you know my species is an expert in mind control?’ Maricia said.

‘Khalesa says that's such nonsense.’

‘You're already controlled by my daughter and I can't overpower her influence.’

She was talking about my beautiful Khalesa. Talking down about her. ‘Did you realise Khalesa is the only child of yours who visits?’

Maricia smirked. ‘Yes, she has you wrapped around her little tentacle.’

‘Tentacle?’ But Khalesa did not sport any tentacles. Unusually and unnaturally slimy hands and arms, but not tentacles. What was Maricia talking about? She commonly claimed bizarre things. She must be losing her marbles.

The old man's brunch finally arrived and he nodded and smiled at the nurse in thanks. I was starting to appreciate the subtle nuances of his nod and smile and how they conveyed different emotions. I felt a close connection to him.

‘I’m still hungry,’ Maricia said, eyeing the old man.

‘No, don't.’ I gripped her closest tentacle. It was warm, moist, and writhing.

She looked at me intently. ‘How about you then?’

I suddenly remembered Khalesa describing her mum as a man-eater, but hadn't given it much thought, until now.

‘Why don't you enjoy my food?’ I said, my voice quivering. I pushed the plate over to her, hands trembling.

She snatched the plate and started masticating aggressively.

I let out a deep breath. I wanted to leave but found I couldn't. I wanted to make Khalesa happy more than anything. I must stay until I was dismissed.

Maricia dropped her cutlery and the clattering sound caused a nurse to attend. ‘Come on Maricia,’ the tired-looking nurse said, ‘let me take you back to your room.’ She yanked the levers on either side of the wheelchair, releasing the brakes, and jerked away.

As Maricia was wheeled away, she gave me a final glance, her yellow eyes locking onto mine. ‘We’ll see each other soon,’ she whispered, her tentacles twitching slightly.

I sat frozen for a moment. My legs felt weak, but I managed to get up and move toward the door, slipping out of the dining room, my jacket still slime-stained.

***

I stepped into the house and shut the front door. The kids were watching TV, well, wrestling and watching TV, and Khalesa was sitting in the kitchen.

‘How was brunch?’ Khalesa asked without looking up from her paper.

I walked over and forced a smile. ‘It’s always lovely to see your mum.’

‘I’ve got some tasks for you, my little puppet,’ she said, placing a hand on my temple and pressing gently. My head buzzed with sudden clarity. I'd do anything to make her happy.

‘You need to cook dinner, tidy up after the kids, and clean the bathrooms,’ she said, her voice soothing.

‘Yes, darling,’ I replied, feeling an overwhelming sense of calm. ‘Of course.’

‘I’ll sip a cocktail and relax. Oh, and Martin is coming over tonight, so you’ll be on the couch again.’

‘No problem at all.’

I got to work, a pleasant hum filling my head as I scrubbed the toilet. Everything was perfect. I couldn’t help but smile—how happy we all were.