Sunday, April 28, 2013

April 28, 2013


 Vinca emptied the contents of Nesim's diaper into the commode and flushed it. On the table top, he picked at the strap holding him down and raised his feet into the air, squealing. “Another full load, Stinky Boy.” She rolled the diaper up and hoped there'd be a chance to wash it. She got out a fresh diaper, flicked it open and applied it to his rump. He laughed and squirmed and she almost jabbed him with the pin before she got it secured, and released him.

The dirty diaper went into a sealed bag, that went into the supply bag and she released the Kedai brat from the table, picking him up and holding his hand while they left the bathroom. He spotted Mavi before she did, talking to a taller, slender woman with her back to them. Her headcovering marked her as married, though the iron gray braids marching for the floor from beneath the scarf marked her as middle aged at the very least. Nesim squealed and tugged free of her hand, lurching across the floor for his father, who picked him up and sat him on one hip, still talking to the older woman. Vinca grinned at the sight, half wishing she hadn't said they'd wait the full year to see if she could acclimate to Dinc and learn Pachem ways. He saw her grin and smiled back, putting his hand on the woman's back. “Mother, I'd like you to meet someone.”

The woman turned, and Vinca saw the face she'd seen mouthing an incomprehensible greeting in the immigration chip, a bit more aged, a bit more stern, falling into a frown from the smile she'd been giving Mavi, before smoothing into a detached professionalism as she took in Vinca's lack of height and her hair, still not long enough to do more than hang shaggily in her face. Vinca admired the expression, even though it made her feel smaller than Nesim. “You've hired a child of your Parish to look after your son for your visit?”

The clerk, hovering nearby, almost squeaked. “No, Pastor Jeremiah – “

“No, Mother.” Mavi said. “This is Vinca.”

The professional expression turned into a near frown. “Who?”

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