Dear Sept,
You’ve developed a funny habit of checking the sinks. Fortunately, we’ve only got two, the kitchen and bathroom. You will stop what you’re doing–even if you’re deep in concentration. Then you head to the sink.
“OK! All good!” you say, when you see that the faucets are off.
“You don’t have to check them all the time, son,” I said.
“I know, Pops,” you said. “I’m just making sure.”
All right. It’s not a big thing. No cause for concern. And likely, you’ll grow out of it. And even if not, there are all sorts of people, all over the world, who check that the faucets are shut off. I bet half of them haven’t even been through anything close to what you’ve been through. So, one little quirk. It’s not such a big deal.
You also keep singing other people’s songs. Some of them are heartbreaking.
“Mum is hurting, don’t know why~
Come back, come back.
“Don’t leave me.
Not alone. Not you, too.
Come back, come back.
Stay with me.”
“Whose song is that?” I asked you. While you were singing, I saw a flash of a little indigo girl.
“It’s Panda,” you answered.
“Is she? She’s not… is she imaginary?” I asked.
“Of course not!” you answered. “She’s my sister. What makes her mom sick, Pops? Do you know? If something happens to her mom, can she come live with us?”
Oh, man. We’ve got such a little house. I’m not sure if the agency would approve of our taking in anyone else. I’m sure they’ve got their reasons for spreading out all you kids, keeping you all separate. I know they had their reasons for not giving me the contact info for the other parents.
But what if something happened to me?
Where would you go?
I wouldn’t want you to go back to the agency. I’d want you to be with someone else who knew about you kids, who understood you, who would be patient with you and let you be yourself, without interfering.
“Sure, son,” I said. “If something happens to Panda’s mom, or to any of your brothers’ or sisters’ parents, we can take them in.”
I could talk to Geoffrey. I’m sure he’d see my point.
“Oh, squeegee,” you said. “And anyway, she’ll be OK, right? Panda’s mom?”
You started singing softly, so I could barely hear.
“It’s safe, it’s safe now.
There’s time and wolfbane!
There’s tea and tisane…
“For little girls
and Mamas
And sisters
and Papas.
“Don’t worry
little Pandas.
It’s safe. It’s safe.”
Oh, I will do all I can. That’s for sure.
Love you,
Your pops.
Author’s note: Panda’s song was written by Thymeless. And what’s happening with Panda’s mum? Read Pandora’s Box to find out!
Cathy Tea's SimLit Anthology 