Page 140 of The Alpha

Kwaku smiled, reached across the table, and took the phone from her. “Uncle of Pari, let me speak to de king.”

“Oh, it’s you!” she heard Uncle Al say. “Fine.”

Pari’s jaw dropped. “There really is a king?”

Zara smiled. “Do not worry, he is no doubt here to make sure you are okay.”

Pari gaped at her. There was an alien king in Uncle Al’s apartment?!

Kwaku spoke in what sounded like Bondrah’s language, nodded a few times, then handed the phone back to her. “Tell your uncle to unlock de basement door to de building’s backyard.”

She nodded. “Um, Uncle Al?”

“This is not Uncle Al,” came a man’s voice. He had an odd accent, somewhat like Zara’s and Melvale’s.

“Oh, um, who is this?” she hedged.

“King Jaireth Shamaelon. Who is this?”

She could hear the smile in his voice. “P-Pari.”

“Ahhhh, good. You will come to me, child. I wish to meet you. Here is your uncle.”

She stared at the phone. “That was… weird.”

“Pari?”

“Uncle Al?”

“Yeah, when are you coming home? This is getting uncomfortable. They’re into everything!”

“Uncle Al, we’ll be right there. Can you unlock the basement door to the yard? We’re coming in through the back.”

“Is that how these people keep getting into the building?” he huffed. “Can’t they use the buzzer at the front door like everyone else?”

“Just do it, okay?” she pleaded.

“Fine, Pariwink, but you’ve got some explaining to do when you get here.” He hung up, and she stared at Kwaku.

He wore a silly grin on his face and looked unperturbed. “Are you ready to meet de king, little treasure?”

She shook her head. “Not exactly.”

“He will have a host of guards with him,” Zara said. “No one would dare try to harm you in his presence. Human or otherwise.” She stood. “Come along.”

Pari took a deep breath, picked up her half-eaten Rice Krispie treat and latte, and let the couple escort her outside. They walked several blocks before turning down the street a block from hers. She led them through an alley between two buildings until they came to a gate and a chain link fence surrounding the backyard. She waved at an old man sitting in a chair holding a hose. He was watering a few tomato plants in some large pots. A garden lay beyond where his elderly wife was weeding.

“Pari,” the woman said. “What are you doing coming through the back, honey?”

“There’s something I need help with in our basement,” she said. Uncle Al popped his head out the back door of their building opposite the couples as she went through the gate between yards. “See you later Mr. and Mrs. Anderson.” She gave them a parting wave.

The old couple returned her wave then went back to tending their garden. Pari, Kwaku and Zara entered the basement and were met by a huge man with dark eyes. He was bald, except for a top knot of dark hair, and reminded Pari of a genie.

“Simon,” Kwaku said. “De king?”

“Upstairs.” He looked at Pari and smiled. “Welcome.”

She openly gawked. “Um, likewise.” She glanced at Uncle Al whose eyes were round as saucers.

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