Februa

I watch carefully as the tiny bubble monster perched at the top of the volcano begins to sink into the magma at his feet, his bubbly appearance morphing before my very eyes as he plunges off of the side of the mountain in a slow descent that leaves him buried in a mound of sticky sweet lava juice.

“Eat your pancakes, dear.”

“It’s a volcano.” I say to my mother, picking up my fork and stabbing it through Mr. Bubble. It was one way to rescue a monster, I suppose. Popping him into my mouth, I squish him with my teeth and enjoy the flavor of his juice mixing with the deadly syrup.

“— we prepare the ships according to the population cycle—“

“Please turn that off.”

“We need to know—“

“But does she need to know?”

I try to ignore my parents’ voices and focus on slicing through the tough shells that encase the UFOs on my plate. Mountains were obviously too hard to melt through — even the lava ran over them with no effect — but my special cutting fork could get through the strongest metal in the universe.

My father’s voice drops low, but I can still hear him with my super ears. “We are going to have to tell her eventually. It’s not like we are going to be going with her.”

Mother shushes him, pulling him out of the kitchen into the living room, the soft swish of the mechanical door signaling their retreat.

Finally. I could focus on my adventures in peace.

The spaceship crashes into the marshmallow lake at the giant’s feet and she squeals in surprise, her toes retreating from the sharp edges of the wings. I check on the Captain quickly, and find her safe in her cockpit. However, her time is short, her ship stuck in the goo of white. If only the atmosphere hadn’t taken out her lasers on re-entry…

“Please be careful, honey…” The giant says, pushing the large boulders of fluffy white goodness away from the edge of the couch where she’s perched. The alarm at my belt sounds, a high pitched beeping emerging from the black box attached at my hip.

The giant moves quickly, trying to reach the device, but I push her away with my small hands. “Nooooo, I wanna do it!!!” The whine that emerges from me is not very captainly, but I can’t help that my voice hasn’t settled into maturity yet.

I look up to find my mother’s eyes giving me that look, and I sigh, surrendering control.

She reaches down to the tube that circles my waist, using her fingers to find the source of the problem, “It’s just occluded again,” and with a quick twist the alarm falls silent.

How embarrassing.

My mother returns to her perch as I fall to the floor dramatically, the touch of the giant leaving me paralyzed.

“She’s your daughter.” I hear her say to my father, who laughs in response.

“I think she got her imagination from her mother.”

An oomph tells me that Mother playfully punches Father in the arm, and I listen to their quiet giggles wondering when someone would come rescue the poor frozen captain.

I hear the mail rustle in my father’s hands, then the small rip as he tears the end off of the envelope. My mother always opened the flap, but he said that his way was much more efficient. I personally thought going through the address hole in the front was the most professional way to open a letter, but my parents had balked at that.

“It’s from them.”

The couch groans as my mother shifts her weight, and I sigh loudly signaling that I’m still petrified on the floor.

“What does it say?”

Of course they are ignoring me…

“They accepted.”

“They accepted?!”

The excitement in my mother’s voice causes me to raise my head, the magic spell broken — temporarily.

I see my parents grasping a sheet of paper, their eyes flitting over the words faster than I thought possible.

“They accepted!” My father yells, jumping up from the couch and lifting me from the floor, finally.

He spins me around, careful not to tangle my oxygen line, and I laugh gleefully.

Mother flits around my room as I sit on my bed, shoving clothes into my small suitcase, and I whine again, “Whhhhyyyy?”

“Because dear, you can only take clothes on this trip. There isn’t room for toys.”

“But I’ll be so bored.” Yes, my imagination was strong, but I needed something to inspire me wherever we were going. My mother still hadn’t told me our destination, but I hoped it was the beach. We only went once, before it was scratched from the list of vacation places, the sand in the mechanical parts of my medical equipment too hard to clean.

Mother pauses and comes to sit next to me, flattening the pink floral blanket before taking her usual place. This wasn’t just a normal talk, this was a mother talk. I groan and lay my head against the headboard.

Mother talks were often long and boring — or as she liked to call them ‘important.’ All I wanted to do was play, not listen to her drone on about how I needed to be good and behave and listen to adults.

“Are you listening to me?” She asks, and I nod my head, even though I know I hadn’t heard a word she said. “I promise. We are doing what is best for you.”

I narrow my eyes at her. This was what they always said when they had to make a hard decision about my health — and I realize that this is probably another hospital trip. Great.

Defeated, I hold my arms up in the air for her to pull off my shirt and replace it with my nightgown. It was the purple one tonight — my favorite. At least I still had that.

She pulls the blanket down, and I use my arms to lift my torso and shimmy my way down the bed, careful not to pull on any wires in the process. I sigh as I lay my head on the pillow and look at my mother, tears threatening to form. “Do I have to?”

Mother leans down and places a kiss on my forehead and I let my eyes drift closed, letting her hair envelope me in a secret cave of love. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.” She whispers, before pulling back, checking the machines, and leaving the room.

I fall asleep to the soft sounds of beeping, the luminescent screens of the monitors my night-light.

My tongue sticks out between my lips in the standard ‘I’m focusing’ mode, but the noise from the living room makes it hard to stay concentrated on my letters. I try reading the sentence in front of me again — slowly.

“You can’t do this! We got the acceptance letter already. It’s here! It’s right here!”

My father’s voice is loud, loud enough that I can hear it through the closed door that separates us. Mother said he was in an important meeting, but it was unusual for him to do work from home.

“Please… I’m begging you…”

“John!” My mother’s voice this time, cutting through the haze of letters in front of me. How did they expect me to read with yelling in the other room?

I set my pencil down on the table and turn in my high chair. “Mother!” I call. I hear shuffling in the other room, followed by low voices, but no one comes through the door. “Mother!” I’m louder this time, but still no one comes.

Frustrated, I push against the table, trying to get the chair to slide on the tile toward the button that would open the door to the other room, but it catches on the floor, and the next thing I know I’m on the floor.

“Are you okay?!” My mother says, the door now open as her and Father rush to my aid. Alarms blare around me, the pump that connects to my stomach ripped from its latch and hanging above me.

“I’m sorry… I… I just…”

Father moves the hair out of my face, his voice soft, his eyes full of tears. “It’s okay, baby. You’re okay. We got you.”

A sob escapes my mother, and I look to see her crying as well.

“I’m okay. I promise.” I say, trying to reassure them both.

Something isn’t right, and it’s all my fault.

I know better than to try things on my own. Just let the adults handle it — the nurses, the doctors, my parents… I’m too young and too sick to handle these things, and now my parents are upset with me.

I lay in my bed, trying to ignore the argument taking place outside my bedroom door. The yelling hadn’t stopped since the incident with the chair, even at the hospital where they replaced my port, my parents had been angry with each other — my father angry with everyone around him.

And I am to blame.

Wiping away my tears, I force myself to think of what the Captain would do. She wouldn’t let things continue this way. She’d find a way to fix everything and declare it a mission. Tightening my grip on the Captain’s ship, I raise it to my face in the low light of my room, and stare at the small figure in the cockpit. That’s what I need. A mission.

Mission: Child Safety 101 active.

First Step: Be as safe as possible.

I pull myself along the tile floor beneath me, trying to avoid disturbing the tent that drapes over my head, the walls watching me as I pass silently by — like a snake slithering through a tunnel. The Captain is in danger, and it’s my responsibility to save her.

Sudden light explodes from overhead, and I see my father standing above me, the sheet that had served as my operational tunnel held in one hand. “Daaaaad!”

“Sorry, sweetie, but I need to talk to you.”

I open my mouth to complain, but shut it again as I see the look on his face. He isn’t smiling, his eyes rimmed red and swollen from crying. My tummy rolls, and I feel like I might be sick. I had been trying so hard to fix everything, but the fighting had continued, the crying and yelling getting louder at night while I tried to sleep.

Last night had been the worst so far, my father’s voice angry and mean — something I had never heard before. It had scared me so bad I put my pillow over my head and shook until I heard the quiet beeping from the front door opening and closing. It had grown quiet after, and I had drifted into a fitful sleep.

But now my father stands above me, his eyes looking sorry and his hands outstretched. Maybe I had imagined the yelling or… perhaps the dark had made it scary when it wasn’t scary at all.

I roll to my side and reach for him, and his big hands wrap around my sides and lift me into the air, setting me gently in his lap. “Honey bear…” he says softly, but his eyes don’t look at me. “You’re going to go on a trip soon, just like your Captain.”

“A trip? To the hospital?” I ask, my eyes looking for the spaceship, but it was buried in lava mountain where I had left it, my rescue mission cut short.

My father shakes his head, and takes one of my hands in his, the colorful polish on my nails soft and shiny compared to the rough callouses that dot his skin. “No, sweetie. It’s not to the hospital this time. This time you will be going to outer space.”

Head whipping around, my eyes wide with delight I cannot contain, I stare at my father’s face, looking for any hint of deceit. But there is none. He is telling me the truth. Yet… his eyes are still sad. “Why are you crying, Daddy?”

A small laugh escapes him, which only adds to my confusion as fresh tears spill from his brown eyes. “Well, Mom and I won’t be going with you on this trip, and I’m going to miss you so so so much.”

I feel my brows furrow in confusion, I had never been without my parents before. “Why?” I ask, the word carrying all of my questions with it.

He smiles, but his tears don’t stop. “Sometimes, the world just gets too many people in it, and we have to help the Earth by lowering the number of humans who live here— “

“I’m going to live on the moon?!?!” I yell, my voice startling my father.

“No, no, no, you’ll come back to Earth there just won’t be—“

Beeping echoes through the house, and I hear the front door sliding open in the other room.

My father grabs my hand, pulling me to face him. “Now, you cannot tell your mother, okay? This will be our little secret. No one has to know but you and me.”

“But, won’t she miss—“

My father hugs me close, interrupting my question as he turns to face my mother. “Honey! Welcome back. I was just about to make dinner, but Livvy wanted to play and then—“

“It’s fine, Mark. I’ll get it.”

I can’t see my mother’s face, but I know. Her eyes are red and rimmed too. Her voice coated in a sadness that I cannot understand. Maybe Dad wanted to surprise her with the trip? Maybe he had planned this whole thing to cheer her up after my fall.

Yes, yes that had to be it.

I would keep it secret then, and when my mom finally gets to see me wave goodbye, she will smile again.

I hope.

“No, it has to be here Friday. I don’t care what you have to do, I need it.” A laugh sounds through the door, and I turn to face the pantry, my mother locked inside. I don’t know who she’s talking to, but it sounds urgent, so I turn back to my crayons and continue to color Captain. I had decided that Mother and Father would miss me while I was gone on my trip, so I had asked my mother for crayons and paper to draw them a picture to remember me.

“It doesn’t matter what my plan is. There’s no trace, I promise.”

I raise my head from my art again and listen closely to her voice. Was she planning a surprise for Daddy too? That would get really complicated… maybe I should tell him about it?

But… if I tell Daddy about Mommy’s present, I would have to tell Mommy about Daddy’s, and I had made a promise not to say anything.

I lay my head back against the chair and groan. Secrets are hard.

The door opens to the pantry and my mother comes out, a box of potatoes in her hand.

“Why is your head upside down?” My mother asks, a cheerful grin on her face despite the dark circles that surround her eyes.

“I’m contemplating secrets,” I say, matter of factly.

She comes around my pump and sits down at the table, placing the potatoes in front of me. They weren’t ‘real’ potatoes, I had learned that those had gone extinct a long time ago, but they tasted okay, I guess. Luckily I didn’t have to eat real food often, most of my nutrients coming from the pump attached to my stomach.

“Why are you thinking about secrets, dear?” Mother asks, and I see a spark of understanding starting to form in her eyes.

Oh no.

I would have to deflect. Evasive maneuvers! Just like the Captain. I look back at my drawing, the squiggly orange hair a reflection of my own tangles. “Captain,” I say, smiling at my mother. Crisis averted.

“Ohhh,” she says, leaning in close as if we are telling secrets of our own now. “What is Captain up to now?”

“She has a new mission, where everyone is a spy.” I weave a tale for my mother, the words spilling from me in rapid succession, her eyes widening as the story takes form between us.

And I know, without a doubt, that I’ve saved the surprise for everyone.

“But where’s Momma?” I ask as my father places me in the car-seat and straps me in. This is it, the day of my trip, but my mother is nowhere to be found. My eyes sting with tears, but I hold Captain tighter to my chest, refusing to let them spill.

Father slides into the seat next to me and closes the door, signaling to the car to proceed with motion. “I don’t know, sweetheart, but I’m sure she would be here if she could, okay? We can’t wait for her, I’m sorry.”

I hear the pain in his voice, mixed with an anger I’m afraid will spill out, so I don’t question him further. The city flashes by as we move along the high speed rail toward the shuttle launch space. Father had told me it was near the airport, and that I would be on a big spaceship that would get launched right into space.

He didn’t know how long I would be gone, but he assured me that him and mother would be here when I got back.

But now that everything is happening, all I can feel is a sense of dread, and I want to tell him that I just wanna go back home. Looking over at him, my courage shrinks away. The smile on his face is true, the lines of worry that had been plaguing him for weeks finally gone, and I can’t bring myself to ruin his happiness.

I turn and face forward again as the car slows down and Father comes to retrieve me.

We walk through the quiet streets toward the launch platform, and I wonder where all of the people are. “Daddy?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Why is there no one else here?”

He sighs, “I waited for your mother too long is all. Everyone else is already on the ship, so we have to hurry now.”

I nod, but as we walk, I think of another question. “Why don’t we go through the front doors?”

“Oh, Sweetie, I got us special passes. Just for you and Captain, so we have to go around the outside to get to the launch pad, but don’t worry, you’ll be safe and sound inside the ship soon enough.

I stay quiet as we make our way across the open expanse of the launch pad, staring at the giant ship placed at its center. It’s blinding white, the reflection of the tiny windows that dot its exterior directing the sun in a dazzling number of rays around it.

“A real ship…” I say to Captain, holding her tighter.

It doesn’t take long for us to reach the ship, Daddy jogging lightly across the pavement, and we turn around a large wheel to find a man leaning against it.

“It’s about time,” he says, holding out his hand.

Father hands him something, and he pulls at a latch above his head, opening a small hole in the bottom of the ship where a ladder falls down.

“Move quickly. You’ve got five minutes,” the man says, and Daddy immediately begins climbing.

It’s slow going though, trying to carry a little girl and climb a ladder, and it isn’t long before he is panting and sweating. I try to help the best I can, using my arms to pull on the rungs, but without legs I’m left with no choice but to be held as we go.

Finally, we reach the top and he sets me on a thin carpeted floor while he pulls himself the rest of the way up. I hear people talking, and see a curtain fluttering as people move on the other side.

“Is that—“ I start, but Daddy shushes me, peering out of the curtain before lifting me back into his strong arms.

We walk through the curtain, and Daddy looks for the number for my seat. People shuffle around us, getting settled in their own seats, and I hear their excitement all around me.

“It won’t be long until the virus does its job—”

“Yeah, I said goodbye to her, but we all know the odds—“

“— only if he survives!” One man bellows out, laughing along with the people around him. I try to understand what they mean, but Daddy leans forward, and I cling to his neck to stay attached.

He stands back up and I see someone in front of us, a long coat draped over their head to the floor.

“Excuse me,” my father says, tapping the person on the shoulder.

They turn slowly, and I see the coat open with the wind of the movement, a shiny cylinder peeking out beneath the fabric before it’s gone again. My father’s arms tighten around me, and I hear his quick intake of breath as I look into the person’s face.

The confusion in her face turns to surprise as she looks at me, and my mouth opens, one word falling from my lips, “Momma?”

The world is white.

The silence deafening.

But I… I am purified.