“Ghosts aren’t real,” Roni said. Her mother’s spirit smiled. “Don’t be difficult. I came a long way to wish you a happy birthday.”
Tag: daughter
Fiction: From This Valley
“Where’s Lornia?”
“Where she always is, Father,” Samm said. “Out on the boulder, staring off into space.”
“Still,” Mother said. “How long is she going to pine for that boy?”
Father shrugged. “The heart wants what the heart wants.”
“Oh,” Mother said, “so your heart wanted me?”
Father smiled fondly at her. “I’ll go talk to her. Samm, round up your other brothers and sisters for dinner.”
“Yes, Father.”
Father walked out of the house and toward his heartsick eldest child. She reclined on the big red boulder and looked into the darkening sky. He stood next to her in silence for a while.
“Do you think he’s ever coming back, Father?”
He pretended to ponder the question. “You never know what might happen, Daughter. But … you know a place like this can’t hold him. Not even with your boundless love. He’s got to be off doing whatever it is he’s doing. And your place is here.”
Lornia’s heart broke again because she knew her father was right.
“I know it’s hard,” he said, “but the sooner you can accept the way things are, the sooner you quit looking for him to come back, the easier it will be on you.” He kissed her cheek. “Come in for dinner.”
“I’ll be in soon, Father.”
As he walked back toward the house, he heard her singing; it was the same song she had sung to the young man she loved on their last day together.
“From this valley they say you are leaving.
“We will miss your bright eyes and sweet smile.
“But remember the Mariner Valley,
“And the Martian who loved you so true.”
Fiction: The Courier
“Mama Astrid,” Noemi said quietly. “Am I old enough now to learn more about my Mama Sabine?”
Astrid didn’t look up. Noemi had turned 15 the week before and this was expected.
“Go sit on the couch,” Astrid said. “Let me get us some tea.”
Astrid set the simple tea service on the table. She poured a cup for Noemi and one for herself before sitting down on the sofa with the younger woman.
“You cannot, of course, remember your mother,” Astrid said. “My heart breaks every time I think of that, and I want to scream. The first time I fully realized it, I kept my poor husband awake all night with my crying. But it has changed nothing.” She sipped the hot tea as a tear fell down her right cheek. “Filthy boche.”
Astrid cleared her throat. “We were in the same unit in the Resistance. We were the only women, and women were not looked upon warriors or politicians or thinkers or anything other than wives and mothers. But the men in the unit learned that sometimes a woman attracts less attention doing certain things than a man would, so we were tolerated. I was about 22 and Sabine was almost 30.
Fiction: High-Energy Interactions
“Renata!” Dr. van Oustil cried. “This is your report card?”
Heads turned and the party stilled a bit as father began to publicly berate daughter.
“How can you be getting a C- in physics?” he demanded. “Here I am, an internationally renowned particle physicist, and you embarrass me with a C- in high school physics? Does heredity count for nothing, after all? How will you get on in life?”
A few partygoers chuckled; others were red with shame on the girl’s behalf, or perhaps remembering lectures from their own parents.
Renata stared at her father for a moment. The report card had been lying on the table for two days, but he waited until he could be the center of attention to chastise her. She caught a fleeting glance of her mother retreating to the kitchen, wanting to be anywhere other than near the spotlight. This was the van Oustil version of a normal day.
Renata walked a few steps to the open bar next to the refreshment table and snatched up a forbidden glass of merlot. Making certain she had her father’s attention, she downed it in a single gulp.
“Don’t get so upset, Father,” she said. “I have every intention of becoming a prostitute. I already know the little bit of biology I need for that career.” She motioned to her father’s closest collaborator. “Just ask Heinrich. He’ll vouch for me.” And she tossed the glass lightly to the floor and went to her bedroom.
The party broke up shortly after the police arrived. They were responding to an urgent call about a physicist trying to kill his colleague.