sustenance - two

Rrrrrrrrrrring-thuck.

The alarm clock on his bedstand served the entire family. His heavy hand stifled the tiny bells and made them still. Without complaint or smart observation, Kaela's parents rolled out from their covers and sat on the edges of the mattress, facing away from each other.

"Good morning, Kellie."

"Good morning, Haust."

Kaela emerged from her room holding Kitty across her chest. "Good morning, Mama. Good morning, Papa."

"Good morning, Kaela." Almost synchronized, as always. Papa was the slower one today.

He was the first into the house's single bathroom. He took his showers after work, and no one at the processor worried a rogue cowlick would endanger their career advancement. Showering when he did also lessened the chance the fruity smell of his daughter's shampoo would cling to his hair going into work. While he scraped, spit, and gargled behind the door, Kaela leaned against the wall while she worked problematic tangles out of her daughter's chestnut hair.

Mama used the bathroom next, unleashing epithets ranging from sighs to pugnaciously censored cries depending on the smell Papa left behind in the toilet. Thankfully, the room had a vent pipe leading straight through the roof. By the time Mama finished showering, the steam had encapsulated and evacuated every offensive odor. She came out wearing nothing but a fluffy towel -- wrapped like a beehive around her head.

Sometimes, after Kaela had gone into the bathroom and closed the door behind her, she heard a spanking sound coming from the bedroom.

With her night clothes folded outside where they would remain dry, she took out the shampoo and the soap, and carefully applied both where they needed to go. Only after her skin shone under the intense light did she turn on the water and hop in. One, it saved water, also one of Papa's compulsions, and two, that stopped stray suds from wandering into her eyes, which really hurt. Though she enjoyed how warm it was under the water, her showers never lasted longer than ten seconds. She had created this method without any input from her parents, which sufficed to warm her with pride.

The family dressed and downstairs at the breakfast table, Mama had a surprise.

"Eggs!"

Kaela's eyes lit up as Mama took three eggs from the carton in the icebox (a whole carton!). Of all the foods that came in two colors, eggs ranked highly on Kaela's list. They reminded her of the sun pushing itself in front of the clouds for once, or the crown of a golden creature swimming in a white sea.

"I'm sorry we didn't come home last night," Mama cracked the eggs into a hot, buttered pan. Over the sizzling and popping, she said,"Your father and I went out to celebrate."

Busying himself with making a sandwich, Papa nodded, and grinned.

"Do you remember when we had Mr. Siarke over two months ago?" Mama asked.

Kaela shook her head, though she paid more attention to the unctuous smells wafting from the stove.

"He was tall, as I remember. Hair as gray as a ghost, though he couldn't have been more than forty." Mama was forty five. "Ringing any bells?"

Kaela still shook her head.

"He talked about his son a lot while he was here -- in fact, I believe he's about your age."

Kaela straightened with recognition. "Oh, him." The way she said that was far from approving. "He said he almost never goes home to see him. Isn't that horrible?"

"It is, isn't it?" Mama even sprinkled some salt on the cooking eggs. "He can't go home as much as he wants to. His job puts him out at sea catching fish for seven out of eight weeks."

"Then he should get a new job."

"He's a captain. He has his own ship. And he's making lots of money for his family."

"But he doesn't spend time with them. At least Papa comes home every day."

Mama paused, almost as if the weight of what she was going to say next had become concrete and landed on her shoulders. Papa spread mustard over a slice of bread. Oblivious, the eggs fluttered merrily in the pan.

"Kaela?"

"Yes, Mama?"

Suddenly fighting for composure, Mama gazed at a dark spot on the ceiling. Her fist bounced on the countertop in a slow rhythm. When she spoke, however, her words were measured and even.

"Mr. Siarke came back to Liliota Island two days ago. Yesterday, he approached Papa at work. He said one of his hands were injured and said he needed a replacement."

Kaela blinked in thought, then frowned. However, she remained silent, and a brief glimpse of hope flashed across Mama's face.

"Papa accepted his offer," said Mama. "He'll be paid a lot more aboard the ship -- what was it called?"

"The Provident Reaping." It was the third time Papa had spoken that morning -- and it wasn't even a sentence.

"The Provident Reaping." Mama scowled, like it left a bad taste in her mouth. "Not the nicest name I've ever heard."

Kaela asked, "What does it mean?"

"I wish I knew." Mama took the finished eggs off the stove and served breakfast, sending a dangerous topic into hibernation. The family held hands and said grace, and all three of them finished their breakfast before the pan had even cooled.

"It'd be nice to have toast, too," Papa said, wiping his mouth on a napkin.

Mama laid her hand over Papa's. "You'll have it soon enough."

"And bacon. They'd better give me enough for bacon, too. I'm tired of not providing enough for my family."

"All in good time."

Kaela made toward the sink with the dishes in her arms. "What time are you coming home, Mama?"

"I'm going to be out late again. We've had a few elderly residents saying they haven't slept much lately, so they're coming back today for a follow-up."

"I don't have a problem with sleeping. I sleep just the right amount, don't I?"

Mama ruffled Kaela's hair. "Of course you do, Kaela. Now run and get your school things."

Kaela obeyed, her bare feet drumming a tattoo up the stairs. "I really hope those old people will be okay!" she called back as her parents disappeared from view.

***

Haust turned to his wife with a concerned look on his face. "I don't like keeping things from her," he said.

"I don't, either." Kellie kept her gaze fixed on the stairway. "But you know how she thinks, and remembers. And if she would have understood -- there's no point to starting a day in tears."

"I leave tomorrow. We'll have to tell her sometime."

Kellie's eyes lit up. "I have an idea." She turned to her husband. "Why don't the three of us go out to meet Mr. Siarke? At least she'd understand why her father's suddenly gone missing in her life -- and you'll be back in a month.

"We'll be here, waiting for you." She leaned forward, found his lips. Still as exciting as their first, that kiss, and it certainly would not be their last, either.