Dear Sept,
Now that I know you can understand me, I’ve decided to keep you in the loop.
If I know it, you’ll know it.
I had to piece out the truth about my mom and dad from what little clues Nonny and Poppy gave me. I don’t want you to have to do that.
So, that’s why I told you everything today.
I realize now it was maybe too much. Maybe it’s not that great of an idea to tell a little kid everything you know.
I mean, just because you’ve got the linguistic capacity doesn’t mean you’ve got the emotional capacity.
You about broke my heart when you said, “SebationIwon’tseebizaabgotojonomore?”
Now I see why Nonny and Poppy always dodgedthe question when I asked where my mom was and when she was coming to get me.
It’s tough to tell a little kid he won’t be seeing his mom again.
Septemus, I’m sorry your mom died in that crash. I don’t know why she wasn’t in the protective pods like you and the other kids. Maybe she had to drive the ship. Maybe something went wrong and she was getting out to fix it. Maybe the reason you all survived was because of something she did, and she saved you, giving up her life so you and your siblings could keep yours. Maybe it was just one of those millions of stupid, random pointless things that happen for no reason–or at least no reason that we can figure out. It just happened. I wish it hadn’t, and I wish she were still here to lay her blue hands on you, and I know that this something you’ll carry with you for all your life.
It’s your defining circumstance.
You asked me, “Sebastionwheretheygoall99?”
I don’t know where they went, Sept.
I asked at the agency, and no one would tell me.
But I’m going to look for them.
“Youlookalloverthewidewholeeverything?” you asked.
I promised you. “Yes, Septemus. I will look all over the wide whole everything, and I’ll keep looking until we find them.”
“Sebationyoufindthemsuperquick?”
I’ll find them as quickly as I can. I told you my idea to start with the alumni association for the ECE program at the University of MP. It’s only logical, since I know the agency sent letters to all us recent grads.
“Sebastionandkeepwritingandkeepwritinguntiltheyanswer?”
Yes, Septemus. I will keep writing and keep writing until they answer. Until we find as many of your brothers and sisters as we can find.
“Sebastionwhenwefindthemwehavebigparty? Anddance? Promise?”
Of course. We’ll have a big party and dance with all your brothers and sisters and all their new bizaabgotojoto.
It might not be that easy, though.
I mean, the paranoid vibe I’m picking up on from the agency is pretty strong. And it could be that they’ve told the others not to say anything. Or even if it’s nothing explicit, you know how people are: paranoia spreads like the flu.
But even if it’s not easy, and even if it takes longer than I think, I’ll keep looking.
“Sebastionwritethelettergothroughairwavelikeflashmovetothebizaabgotojoofthebizoopagotogoandeverythingallgood.”
“It might take a while, Squirt,” I said.
“Sebastionthatokthenyouwalkallovereverywherekeeplooking.”
When I tucked you in tonight, you whispered to me as you fell asleep, “Sebastionwritefastletterstheycomequickly.”
Well, little guy. I’m writing my first draft tonight. Then I’ve got to read it over. It’s got to be written just right if we want to persuade the other caregivers to take a risk and meet us. But I’ll write it as quickly as I can while doing a good job to be persuasive. And reassuring. And trustworthy. And calm. While still expressing the urgency of my little squirt needing to see his bizoopagotogo ASAP.
You won’t have to grow up a solitary kid, like I did, Sept. Not if I can help it.
Your bizaabgotojo,
Sebastion
Cathy Tea's SimLit Anthology 