Chapter 9

I tried not to get upset as I flew home, I really did. You have no idea how easy it is to fall into a well of self-pity when you're alone – I mean, truly alone. As in, a one-of-a-kind freak of alien technology. I felt like, if there was one person in the world Rachel could be a little more sensitive toward, it was me. I know she wasn't trying to make things harder on me, but like I'd told her, I was barely hanging on, some days. Some days, I was just looking for a reason to return to human. Shake the last year off like it had been a bad dream.

Logically, I knew that was stupid. I was roughly fifteen years old – the human Tobias was, anyway. Not like I could go get a job. Not like I could rent myself a place. I would be more helpless in the human world than I was in my current situation. At least this way, I was more or less in control of my own life.

As true as all of that was, it still didn't keep me from wanting the body I'd been born in. It didn't help when I was hunkered down inside of my tree, hoping the thin layer of rotting bark would be enough to deflect a hungry Horned Owl. It didn't help when the others were complaining about schoolwork, and I was wishing fiercely that I could be complaining right along with them.

I decided to go to Ax's. I wasn't tired, and I really didn't feel like wallowing in my own pity. Luckily, this was an "up" night; Ax slept for a couple of hours every second or third night, but Andalites are a watchful species. Even when they do sleep, they do it standing up with one stalk eye open.

Ax was inside of his scoop, taking apart what looked to be your everyday food processor. (What are you up to, Ax?) I asked as I skimmed in and perched just outside of the open home scoop.

(I am amassing components from human electrical devices. Eventually, I would like to build something with them.) When I asked what he was building, he just shrugged, as if I'd missed the point. Maybe I had – it wasn't just Ax's life that could get boring out here, so I suppose I knew what he was going through. Trying to keep himself busy, to keep his thoughts off of home, and his family. As I had the thought, I realized that I wasn't nearly as alone as I'd thought. After all, I might not have family, but I have friends. I have members of my species around. Ax has us, but it's probably not the same as having your own species within a million miles.

For some reason, I spilled the story of everything that had happened at Rachel's. He listened thoughtfully, even though I wasn't sure how much of what I was saying translated. I mean, who knows if Andalite teenagers have these problems? Turns out they do; they also have a philosophy on self-pity. Ax gave me an Andalite lesson on their version of Zen.

Ax focused his main eyes on me, a move that let me know I had most, if not all, of his attention. (I believe I know how you are feeling, Tobias. And, forgive me, but I believe you being upset with Rachel is a way of deflecting your true emotions.) He held up a hand to stall my next comment; I almost laughed at how perfectly the gesture resembled Jake. (Would you like my true opinion?) he asked, and I nodded. (Okay. What I believe is happening is this – you feel guilty.)

(About what?) I blurted, honestly surprised.

(About Rachel. I know how much you care for her, Tobias. And I'd be a fool not to see that she feels the same for you. I believe you feel guilty because, while you sacrifice everything for the war, you cannot sacrifice to give Rachel what she wants, as well. You cannot do both. Subconsciously, you know that no matter how important Rachel is to you, saving your race is more important. And even though there is no way around this simple fact, you still feel guilty about not being able to do both. Fight the war, and please Rachel.)

I chewed on that for a while, and I realized he was right. (You know, you sure Dr. Phil'd the hell out of that one,) I told him, even though he'd have no idea who Dr. Phil was. (But what do I do about it?)

Ax began working on his little side project again. (That is easy. We Andalites do not approve of self-pity – this you know, correct?) I indicated that I did indeed know that. (That is not to say we all don't fall victim to it at one time or another. And, among my people, there is one activity that you can do that will take the feeling away.)

(What is it?) I asked, thinking it was going to be something crazy. Like, (We tie our stalk eyes together until we get a headache.) You know – something that Andalites can do, but I can't. So what he said surprised me with its simplicity.

(Do something kind for someone else,) he said. (In your case, put aside your discomfort and do something nice for Rachel. What does she want, Tobias? Surely you know something that would make her happy, even if only for a while; if you do that, I promise you will feel better.) He paused. (Well, you would if you were an Andalite,) he corrected himself, then gave me the Andalite version of a smile, the one they do by crinkling their main eyes and curving their stalk eyes. (But you humans and we Andalites are alike in many ways – maybe it will work for you.)

(You know what, Ax? I think it just might. Thanks.) I took off and headed home to get some sleep, already making plans for the next day.