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of languages, I couldn't believe that any of them would speak only one! How would they communicate with other groups?

Penny let out another nervous laugh and then tried to remove my awkward attention from her, "Are you bilingual . . . or . . . something?"

"Multilingual, yes." I blinked a few times and tried to regain my composure. "I speak four languages fluently and can read seven more."

Her eyes, completely round and rimmed by long, dark lashes, grew wider than I thought possible. She was quite pretty albeit dimwitted, and I hoped that I’d successfully left my impression with this fact.

“I don’t ever do this. Actually, I’ve never done this. Not sure if it’s even appropriate, but I’d really love to know more about that.” Penny began shifting where she sat, “So, um . . . I can’t believe I’m even asking this, but . . . would you want to get coffee sometime or meet for lunch on campus?”

“Yes. I would like that very much,” I answered, feeling quite pleased with my incredible luck.

"Well, that's great!” she said, smiling wide with all of her teeth. “Do you want my number or should I get yours or . . . ?" Her cheeks reddened.

I stared at her. Number? What sort of number was she referring to? The tsez̈ø had given me a name, but no number. Penny gestured to the electronic device that still sat in my open palm.

"How about I just send myself a message?" she asked.

I handed it to her, confused. I'd only used simulations of these devices and was glad to have a little help getting started.

She tapped through a few things, swiped, tapped, and pressed. Then, handed it back to me, saying, "There. I got it started up for you and sent myself a little hello. You should probably make a passcode for your screen by the way. I'd better go, but we'll get in touch to set something up, okay?"

"Yes," I answered, observing her.

Her cheeks were a feverish crimson as she stood up from the side of the bed. She looked at her phone and waved it at me, "Got your message, ha."

I smiled, unsure of what to say. She seemed like she was going but then didn’t. It was confusing.

"Oh gosh," she said, "Look at me giving a Midwest Goodbye." And then started backing toward the door until her plump rear end bounced against the door frame.

"Goodbye, Penny," I said, smiling and trying my best not to laugh at the awkward display.

She scrunched up her face, evidently regretting exiting like this and just mumbled, "Mhm," as she disappeared out the door.

Chapter 2

A

fter my “chat” with Penny, I rested for a while and met with the doctor again, who examined me more thoroughly for injuries. I performed better in this discussion. She smiled often and didn’t wait for me to continue speaking after I’d finished.

Afterward, she had me write my name on a few documents. I struggled a bit with the pencil, and she kindly picked it up off the floor each time I dropped it. It was unwieldy compared to the smooth transcription machine that I could click in my study room of the tsez̈ø.

I was ushered out into a busy hallway to a desk with several women and a single man behind it. One of the women had even more documents for me to write on, and my handling of the pencil was even worse due to my frustration. When I thought I’d finished, I pushed the papers forward and stepped back to leave.

“I still need your insurance card!” said the woman behind the desk.

“Insurance card?”

“Do you have health insurance?”

I stared at her blankly.

“Well, then you have two options. We can bill you directly and set up a payment plan, or you can apply for support through our charity foundation.”

People were expected to pay for care here? Did all humans require currency be traded for their health?

“What is the cost?” I asked.

“Let me get somebody over here to calculate the out-of-pocket for you.”

After quite some time, another woman approached me with a thick stack of papers covered in lists and numbers. I flipped through the pages without the faintest idea what I could do with these.

“What is the cost?” I asked again.

“For the room, tests, physician visits, and treatment, you’re looking at $1,265.97.”

I dug the folded green bills from the pocket in my backpack and peeled them apart revealing the number on a few of them. The highest denomination was one hundred. I counted out the five hundred and then moved onto the six fifties, then to twenty twenties, and a five. By the time I’d gathered all of these, my previous tall stack of bills was barely as thick as a finger.

The woman behind the counter tapped her foot as I counted and snatched the money as soon as it touched the desk in front of me. I purposefully picked the coins out of my pouch slowly and placed them one by one on the counter.

“This is only $.67.” she said when I’d finished. And out of spite, I took even longer choosing the next few coins.

“Alright. You’re all paid up. Glad you’re feeling better.” She strode away with most of the money I’d been given for my land trials.

Unsure of where to go, I turned around and scanned the area. I saw a white sign emblazoned with the word “exit” in red and strode down the hallway toward it. Before I reached it, my nostrils flared, and I felt a rolling tightness in my abdomen. It was a strange sensation, but I soon understood why. There was a wafting, slightly familiar aroma that I couldn’t quite place, and I began to salivate. My innards contracted and gurgled again. I was hungry, but what smell had alerted my body to the fact?

I followed the aroma to an open space with tables and

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