You're Not My Grandma!?

Taken aback, LaRee was dazed by the question, "Umm… You're my grandma. No?

"No. I'm not."

That serene but blunt reply shattered LaRee. He was left in his chair, experiencing a mental reboot in an attempt to make sense of her statement.

At the same time, the old woman reappeared from her room. She sauntered over to the table without skipping a beat.

Thud…

The shake of the table brought LaRee back to the present moment. And his eyes caught sight of a strange, metallic box in front of his supposed grandma. "What's that?"

"This comes from my old home world," replied the old woman, making LaRee feel more estranged by the second. "This is all I own of my old life. And after sixty years of living here, I still don't miss much from my former home."

"Sixty… years??" LaRee asked, "You came here… sixty years ago? How?"

Click, click…

Opening her briefcase, the elderly woman sighed with a ginger grin, "Our ship crashed in Ice Lake. We were fleeing from outlaw raiders and accidentally entered an uncharted gateway in an attempt to flee.

"That's when we crashed into one of the lake's famous icebergs. In fact, I'm certain our ship is still at the bottom of Ice Lake if you ever have the chance to see it."

As her entire manner of conversing changed, LaRee felt as if he was diving in Ice Lake. All of his senses were being ambushed and numbed in ways that were otherwise indescribable.

"I was a young woman in my late twenties at the time. And I was lucky to be saved by your grandfather…" she explained. "That's when I first fell for him, even before he had become the chief.

"But even though your grandfather reciprocated that love, the tribe wouldn't allow it. Not when your grandfather was lined up to become the next chief.

"That's when your grandfather did something crazy. And I knew I would never love another man…" she sighed, letting the blush on her wrinkled face go unhidden. "Your grandfather refused chiefdom. He would only accept if we could be together, despite me being an alien with no connection to the tribe.

"That's when the chief at that time, your great-grandfather, proposed a deal. That I would be allowed into the tribe as the next shaman, sharing my foreign, herbalist knowledge with the tribe. But that wasn't enough for your grandfather…

"The final compromise involved me becoming the tribe shaman and being allowed to have a single son. Still, I wasn't qualified to become the chief's wife."

Chuckling lightly, with no sign of regret, the old woman added, "That's why I had your father. But I'm not your grandmother, according to the laws of the tribe. Nor am I the mother of your uncle."

For LaRee, the whole room was spinning. He mumbled, trying his best to keep up, "Herba-lish? … Crashed and saved? … Doesn't that mean you're a sky fiend?"

"No, I'm not," she answered. "That's why I'm allowed to speak about my past without breaking tribal law. But I never mention it because any mention of people falling from the sky makes the elders angry. It's also why I go by 'Grandma' instead of my name."

LaRee massaged his temples. Everything made sense and didn't mentally align at the same time.

"Then, Grandma… What's your name? And have you always talked like this?" LaRee asked.

Shrugging, the elderly woman laughed, "No, I only talk like this in private with your father. That's why he's a better speaker than your uncle. And my name is Arbory Glenna.

"Also, no, I'm not anyone famous or powerful. If I was famous, someone would've come for me long ago. I was just a student studying herbal medicine, similar to what the tribe would call an apprentice shaman. And I was stranded here before I could finalize my doctorate thesis. Basically, I crashed here before my final test to become a solo-practicing shaman."

LaRee was appreciative of the tribal comparisons. It helped everything feel more grounded, almost tangible. "So you studied herba-lish–"

"Herbalism," Arbory corrected with a chuckle.

"... Herba-lism. You studied herbalism on another world? Is that why you live so long? And why the tribe folk are living longer now?" asked LaRee.

Smiling wide, Arbory nodded. "That's exactly right! See, you are smart."

But LaRee shook his head. "No. No, I'm not… I can't use big sentences… And I come from here. A weak planet. Where we're living longer because of knowledge from another world. While shunning the people who come from another world."

That's when Arbory cut him off, stating, "The tribe has a fair reason to avoid talking about your mother, Little Ree. You can't blame your father for that. He had no say in the matter and couldn't do anything to keep your mother from… leaving."

LaRee noticed that hesitation at the end.

However, Arbory continued, "Your father did promise to explain things one day. And I'm sure that will happen at some point after he's done resting.

"Now, I'm very curious about this new 'sky fiend', if you don't mind me asking questions."

Chugging mostly forgotten tea, LaRee nodded. "Sure. But I don't know much about him…"

"Just call me Granny Arbor, or Granny. Or just grandma, if that's too hard for you," Arbory commented, practically reading the youth's mind.

So, LaRee continued, "Okay. Granny Arbor."

Hearing him say that lit a maternal fire in Arbory's eyes. She excitedly asked, "In that case, tell me what you know about the young man. I believe you said his name aloud while speaking with your father, right?"

"Ayse. That is his name," LaRee replied. A small flame of interest reignited inside of him. "Ayse said there are much stronger people than those here. People that make Ayse and Father look weak."

"That's very true. And your father knows that very well," Arbory confirmed, startling her grandson. "But what else do you know about Ayse? What's he like?

"Oh, how did he manage to communicate with you so quickly? It took me a few days to understand the tribal tongue and a few weeks to be able to speak it."