sustenance - three (part two)

Kaela swept her last bite of pancake through swirls of syrup and bacon flecks. As she ate it, she didn't lament the last pancake she would have for a long time, or wish she had more, or wonder when she would have pancakes again -- the bliss of that sweet thick salty buttery morsel on her tongue was the sole recipient of her attention. It slid to the back of her mouth, down her throat, and settled in her stomach with a warm nudge. Breakfast was finished. She passed her dishes to Mama, who stacked them and took them over to the sink to wash.

Papa followed her with his plate and glass and utensils, and said "Thanks, Kellie." He placed his burden into the washwater. "I need to get ready." With a nod from his wife, he lumbered toward the stairs.

"Will you help me with these dishes?" Mama asked Kaela, who was watching Papa make his way up to the bedroom. Her daughter didn't give the question a second thought, and hopped on the stool next to the sink. The water was hot enough to make her arms tingle when she aired them, but Mama always told her she would get used to it, so she kept her arms submerged.

They were done in a matter of minutes and Papa was still upstairs, his feet thumping all over the room.

"Do you think he knows he's going to be late for work?" Kaela asked, drying her hands on a towel.

Mama finished stacking the dishes in the cupboard and closed it. "Not today," she said. She put an arm around her daughter's shoulders and gazed at the stairs. "Not today."

***

When she first saw Papa coming down the stairs, Kaela didn't recognize him. While he was gone, he had grown a hump almost as large as him again on one side of his back. It rustled and jingled inside. Furthermore, it was yellow. Kaela was mystified.

"Haust! Do you have to bring all that stuff with you?"

Stuff? A picture Kaela saw in a store window downtown sprang into her mind. A battered tent in the middle of a flat, snow-blown plain fought to shelter its sole occupant against the gale. The occupant carried his gear in a stuff sack to protect it against the wet and cold.

The hump on Papa's back was a stuff sack.

"Is it going to snow soon?" asked Kaela.

A look of confusion crossed Papa's face. Winter was two months away.

"That stuff sack's from the camping store downtown," Kaela explained. "They have a picture next to one of those in the window. The one with all the snow. Is it going to snow?"

"Is she talking about Natural Utilities?" asked Mama, furrowing her eyebrows. "Kaela, they ran that picture last year. How did you remember that?"

"Well, I've really wanted to see snow one day." She started to tell them step by step, but Papa burst out laughing before she could get to the coconut connection.

"No, Kaela, it's not snowing anytime soon," he said, struggling to balance his burden. "Ha, prozzet, what a strange girl we have, Kellie."

"She's not strange!" Mama kissed Kaela on her head. "Our lives would be much less interesting without you. Let's get going."

The intestinal stench of Liliota Island's industry swept up the ridge to greet the family as they left through the front door, but the stench was mild here and carried away too fast by the wind to be noticeable closer into the town. Instead of taking Keplin Street north to the clinic, Mama walked south with Papa at her side while Kaela skipped behind, free for a day from the encumbrance of a bookbag.