Chapter 101 - Not Enough The spaceship docked just as the guests were leaving. I had done the calculations on the way home--thanks to the time-warp between the Earth and Lunar Lakes, I had been gone for three days (one day to get there, one day of fighting, one day to return) as I perceived it, but to the people at home I had disappeared for only a few hours. At any rate, the butterflies had waited, and they sparkled around me, overjoyed that I had returned.
Now I really look just like Mama. I wonder why people get wrinkles. Mama says it's because our skin produces less collagen as we get older, but I think wrinkles are holes in the fabric of the universe, and as we get older we get closer and closer to falling into those holes and becoming one with the universe.
My conversation with Azokka, or Thana Azokka, or the Watcher, was intriguing. Another Watcher? Or, as she had put it,
the other half. That, along with what Zykara had mentioned in her attempt to bring me over to her side--Thana Azokka had her general, the leader of her forces, the chief advisor. It's reasonable that the Light Azokka would also need a general. And could that possibly be me, someday?
For me, that isn't the most pressing concern. You see, the Watcher has been Watching, and she is not happy. Her instructions to not speak with the ghosts have been ignored. And there will be consequences.
And so people began to disappear . . . first Grandma Bree, then Grandma Serena, and Grandma Kara, finally Grandpa Nick. Through infrequent texts, we learned that they had been transported to an underground facility made up of small, identical cubicles. They are kept in a half-trance state, rocking or watching TV. Only Grandma Serena is at all lucid, and she spends her time practicing her witchcraft.
We were worried sick, of course, but at the same time . . . it was kind of nice to have some time alone with Jerry without having to check up on the grandparents all the time. Isn't that a horrible thing to say? I could always tell at a glance what condition they were in--faded color meant they were tired, sharp-edged: tired, blurry: needed to use the bathroom or shower, dull: bored. But I couldn't monitor what they were doing, and their minds are so far gone they could destroy the dynasty without even noticing.
So, for the first time since before Cleo died, Jerry and I went out. By ourselves. On a date that lasted more than an hour. And my parents could have their alone time, too.
You may be interested in knowing that one of us vomited regularly that night--however, it wasn't me. Wouldn't it be awesome if Jerry was pregnant? How cool would that be? But--he isn't.
I swear, if there was room for nine in a household we would have created a baby then and there. Spontaneously. Not even trying.
We had a wonderful night dancing away to one of those old bands, the one with the name that sounds like a bug. They're Jerry's favorite group. I just love dancing with Jerry. Grandma Bree always used to say that a man who can dance instantly becomes the sexiest man in the room, and I completely agree.
He's such a perfect person, right? Those smiling lips, a perfectly formed nose, and liquid black eyes with little white sparkles . . . he's only gotten better with age.
Mama and Daddy soon showed up, but they were far too busy trying to make me a sibling to notice our efforts to create a grandchild. Is that too much information? I never can tell.
In due time, the couples split up and we all made pleasant conversation. Jerry's something of an amateur nerd, so he and Mama excitedly discussed brands of toothpaste.
Daddy and I laughed about the birthday party I had come so close to missing. Apparently, Jerry had to perform an impromptu version of his old acrobat show to keep the guests from leaving! Daddy then led them in singing old favorite, "Oogie Oogie Ooh."
Varg's Tavern kicked us all out at around three in the morning, so we headed home after a day of fun, pure and simple.
The next morning, I asked Mama to meet me down at the beach after breakfast. We arrived, only to discover that it was snowing! How on earth did that happen? Winter? Already? It was only last winter that Jerry was surprising me with holiday lights!
"
Sorry, Mama--I guess we'll have to go swimming another time."
"
What are you talking about, sweetheart?" She laughed, a little twinkle in her eye. "
I may be hold, but you're never too old to join the Polar Bear Club."
She beat me into the water, but only because I was trying to decide on the best outfit to wear. Everyday? No, the shoulders would freeze. Sleepwear? I can't sleep in wet clothes! Athletic? No, it's made of silk. Swimwear is way too obvious--wait! I've got it!
We played in the water, our tailbones freezing off, for hours. The entire swim is kind of a blur--cold water, cold air, cold feet, and warm hearts. Hearts blazing like the sun. And pupils that are stars in the iris's dark embrace.
I gave her a big hug on the edge of the water, still in my formalwear. I mean, if there's one thing no one expects, it's for someone to wear their formalwear while swimming!
I couldn't see her expression, but I imagine it was something happy. Happy, and warm, with a mother's pride and a fellow immortal's victory.
We walked back up the hill together, then went to find our husbands and warm up.
Of course, Mama and Daddy had to get their fun over with quickly because they had to drive to Mama's ceremony! She won the Medical Trophy of Valor for helping out in so many court cases and political debates. Isn't that just wonderful?
The remainder of the day was pure bliss, which was good. Mama and Daddy spent their time dancing, talking, and kissing.
Jerry and I concentrated our efforts a little more. We're slightly younger, with slightly more energy.
This year, we all got to help hang the orange lights. Mama and Daddy took care of the smaller houses, while Jerry and I climbed up onto the roof of the main house and strung lights like our lives depended on it.
So yes, the two days before Daddy died were beautiful, wonderful days with more happiness than sadness, and no sadness at all. But that wasn't enough to stop the pain, and it certainly wasn't enough to cure it.
