Not Alone

For whatever reason, Kena refused to accept anyone's help with learning English.  He had a bigger grudge against help than the Orks had against the Fernas. Despite this, he seemed to be getting along well enough in his studies. 

At dinner he would sit quietly, but I could see his ears twitch and his eyes cut when he heard a word he recognized. I made sure to use simple words so he could follow along the conversation at least some. The others didn't realize my intention until I told them a few days later. He may refuse our help but that didn't mean we couldn't secretly help him. 

His understanding of the words for physical things was fine, but he wasn't able to quite grasp the meaning of certain emotional words. After learning both Fernas and Spanish in high school I could understand why it was difficult. Everyone had their own words for things. Kena had his own words, and half the time our whole fleet would bet whether or not he spoke some made up language. I think it was, but he had to be able to speak at least to himself. So many days spent alone on a dying planet. 

"Please food water." He said to one of the cafeteria ladies, who smiled just as sweet as a candy apple, and passed him dinner and a bottle of water. "Thank!" 

One day in particular, my crew was sitting by a window and Kena walked by, his nose buried 4 inches deep in his book as usual. He was so lost in concentration he almost didn't hear me when I called for him. 

When he approached us I smiled at him and patted the seat next to mine. It was awkward for him since he had no idea what was being said around us but, he still agreed to spend some time surrounded by people he knew nothing about despite living next door for a few months now. 

"What does your name mean?" Peter asked, speaking slow and clear so Kena could understand. It was something that had been on our minds. How did someone who knew no language be able to name himself? 

Thoughtfully, he stood. He flipped through the pages of his book looking for something, but nothing came up. He snapped his book closed before pointing to everyone then pointing to himself. No one quite understood what he meant.

It wouldn't be until years later, when he was versed in several languages, that I would ask him what he meant that day. 

"Once I found a baby bird that needed to be nursed back to health. I said Kena, the first sounds that came to mind. I tried to tell him he wasn't alone. When you all found me I realized that I wasn't alone either."