”Don't yah cry, Chick Pea…”She ‘membered how things looked that day, an’ how they felt. Santo was cold, enough tah make tha ground hard, was what them diggers said. She recalled seein’ em, blowin’ warm breath inta their hands afore lowerin’ the pine box with ropes. Her hands was warm, one all wrapped in calluses of Uncle Bob’s palm. T’other she kep in a pocket, fingers workin’ the casin’ of Aunt Lupe’s locket.
She ‘membered a grey sky, an’ a grey world spread out beneath. Seemed like when Lupe passed, she took all tha color in tha ‘verse with her. Uncle Bob tole his niece that this here was Aunt Lupe’s fam’ly, all laid out in neat rows of a plot they claimed nigh on a hunnerd years hence. She ‘membered ponderin’ that…countin’ headstones an’ wonderin’ how such a sizeable number ‘o’ folk din’ yield up none tah stand alongside them, tha shepherd, an’ them gravediggers.
”Don’t yah cry, Chick Pea,” Uncle Bob whispered. “Folk come an’ go in tha ‘verse. An’ sometimes,’[/i] she’d never fergit hearin’ tha hitch an’ crack in ‘is voice,
”tha leavin’s fer good.”Abby felt tha wet try’na come upon ‘er eyes as Cal said ‘is piece.
Ann-you-rizzum...she weren’t altogether sure jest what it was, but knowed enough tah conjure such a thing tah be mighty serious.
Tumor was a word carried plenty ominous meanin’ fer her. From her readin’, she knowed tumors tah be tied up with cancer, a cold hand she seen take many a soul in tha black. And Alana had both..her life cut short by a ‘snake eyes’ roll of the dice.
She din’ move…just stared a hole inta the buttons on Cal’s chest as he give ‘em words. He owned up, but as she sat thinkin’ ‘bout what tumors did inside a person’s head, Abby couldn’t rightly agree that Cap’n was the sorta heel he made hisself out tah be.
That thing was inside ‘er, she reflected.
Colorin’ her thinkin’. Buddha only knows what tortuous thoughts it give ‘er afore it took ‘er away.”Don’t yah cry, Chick Pea…”Then it was Yuri, gettin’ ‘em all on their feet, handin’ over tha clipboard an’ her orders. “Copy,” Abby said as she scooched ‘er chair back
Time to work. Think later.****************************************************************
“Mmm, I smell the ocean on you. And in your hair.”
Somethin’ ‘bout tha helpless nature Rev. McDermott put on tah git her strappin’ him inta his seat had Abby wishin’ she’d changed outta her shorts an’ tank top. Fer a man ‘o’ tha cloth, he sure studied what lay under hers with all kindsa interest. “Bless you, child,” the Shepherd’s hand grazed ‘er thigh as she sidled off tah Mrs. Hewitt.
“I’m all set,” the woman announced, her adjusted shoulder straps and neatly buckled safety belt on display. “Tell me…Abby, is it? How soon will a girl be able to get a cup of joe on this boat?”
“Prob’ly fifteen ticks after we break atmo,” the deckhand replied. “Most like there’ll be a plate ‘o’ cookies ‘r’ somethin’ out tah go with.”
The third passenger, Mr. Eleanor, was in no mood for such trifling. “I thought we were leaving in the morning,” he glowered at the teenager with the annoying twang in her voice. “Why the sudden launch?”
Abby give a shake of ‘er head. “Plans change,” she offered as she set ‘is straps just so. “Cap’n says ‘go,’ we go.”
“I’ll be sure to ask him,” the bitter little man growled.
The young girl shrugged. “Cap’n’s never short fer an answer,” she replied. “Now y’all jest stay strapped in. I got a couple more things tah do afore we giddyup, but I’ll be here tah take tha ride out with yah.” After two nods an’ one set ‘o’ eyes walkin’ ‘er hips, Abby made for an escape through tha cargo bay hatch.
It’s like ever’ other launch; button up them passengers, take a jog outside tah dog tha umbilical hatch, and then raise tha ramp. “Muscle memory” she’d heard it called, like ‘er body had a whole list ‘o’ cues it just knowed tah do afore they put spurs to the boat. She passed Medbay, an’ seen movement within…
Alana’s doin’ ‘er preflights that part ‘o’ her checked off a box.
Then she stopped. Alana weren’t here no more.
Fresh eyes peered through tha window, and she recognized Imani goin’ about her tasks. Time would come when this sight would be as normal as ever’ other part ‘o’ prelaunch. Time would come when she might not feel tha pang ‘o’ hurt when she looked at Medbay.
Folk come and go in the ‘verse. Sometimes, the leavin’s fer good.
Abby reckoned she might outta talk tah Sister. But now, they’s work.
*****************************************************
“Damn, Cornflakes. You look downright sexy turning that big wrench.”
Lorraine done come up behind ‘er as she bolted tha umbilical hatch shut. “Yah oughtta see me pump a shotgun,” Abby quipped as she heaved one last turn.
“So,” the waitress cum partner in crime huffed, “you were just gonna run out on me, huh?”
The deckhand lowered the big wrench to her side as she turned. “Had a ‘mergency call. I git that, I’m s’posed tah skedaddle,” she shrugged. “Did look for yah, though. Didn’t see yah.”
The woman nodded, spiky black hair dancing in the stark pole lighting of the docking berths. “I mighta been…busy,” she grinned, “but not too busy to track you down. Emergency, huh?” she asked. “What’s brewing?”
“Our doc,” Abby managed.
“The one you were looking for?”
“Yeah,” the deckhand said. “She died tonight.”
Lorraine’s jaw dropped. “How?”
“Had herself a ann-you-rizzum.”
“Man. but I’m sorry. That sucks.” Lorraine closed the distance, her hands settling upon Abby’s shoulders. “What about you?” she asked, her gaze fixed upon Abby’s eyes. “Are you okay?”
Weren’t time fer no words tah form. Abby didn’t reckon she had a good answer fer that nohow. All she conjured was when Lorraine pulled ‘er in close she let it happen. Next minute her face was buried in ‘er friend’s shoulder, an’ she’s sobbin’ all get out as she’s held like a babe in arms.
Don’t yah cry, Chick Pea…“Sorry,” Abby pulled ‘erself back, wipin’ ‘er eyes. “Should’na done that..”
“Fuck that,” Lorraine caressed an errant streak of red hair from the girl’s face. “You don’t bottle that
la shi up inside, or it’ll poison you.” She hadn’t entirely released Abby. Now, with hands on her shoulders, the criminal said, “to tell you the truth, I came here to ask you to join our little crew.” She dipped her gaze briefly, then with a crooked smile continued. “We could have a helluva time. I’m scoping out a sweet job on Silverhold. If I bring the right folk, it robs itself…”
Abby found ‘erself laughin’ as she wiped ‘er last tears. “Might need more slutty clothes,” she chuckled.
“Gotcha covered!”
“Ah cain’t.” She lifted eyes toward China Doll. “This boat’s been home over two years. Cap’n took me on when I jest lost it all.” She seen the disappointment in Lorraine’s eyes. “He lost a powerful lot tonight, Lorraine,” Abby finished. “Ain’t no way I’m backin’ out on ‘im now.”
Lorraine took the bad news with her characteristic smirk. “You’re predictable, Cornflakes,” she offered a smile gone wry. “Gimme a goodbye hug, okay? Only don’t club me with that wrench.”
“No promises.” The two friends laughed as a moment froze around them in a firmly shared embrace. “Folk come an’ go in tha ‘verse,” Abby offered. “I reckon our paths ‘ll hafta cross some fine day.”
After a vigorous rub of the girl’s back, Lorraine pulled free. “And that,” she winked, “will be one helluva time. Til then, I’m in your cortex.” She was smiling that wicked smile of hers as she said “See ya ‘round, Cornflakes.”
“See yah, Bugsy.” Weren’t no time fer long farewells. Abby had a job tah do. An’ China Doll had tah fly. Two ticks passed as she sealed ‘er up tah break atmo. “Yuri,” she tapped tha com. “We’re buttoned up below. I’m strappin’ in.”
“Copy that, thanks,” the first mate’s voice squelched over the tinny speaker.
Home, she pondered as she made ‘er way aft.
Without Alana. That’d make for tough feelin’s all around, Abby considered as she found ‘er seat with tha passengers, [i]but home ain’t always gon’ be white picket fences. She hurt tonight; they all hurt. An’ somehow, just knowin’ that grief was shared made it feel a skosh better.
Zoie Hart
wanderingwolf
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