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In the grand scheme of things, Melanie thought perhaps her and the kids might have gotten off better than most, when everything was said and done. Things were still up in the air, yes, and people were still in desperate need of a place to stay, but they had been taken care of, and being housed on that big, half-functional space ship as the residents of the orphanage were, she had found herself with more hands to help care for the kids than she'd had in years! It was like she had been given a vacation for the first time in her life, though it did make her feel a little guilty, seeing all of the people in the streets who hadn't fared as well as they had in the chaos.
Unfortunately, it also left her with a lot of time on her hands, and in the few months since the events that had lead to them all staying on the ship while the fancy Earth military tried to get everything put back into place, she had been trying everything she could to distract herself from a few very intense, very recent memories that had been making it a little hard for her to get a peaceful night's sleep. But at least they were all safe, shown far more care than she had ever expected, and it was comforting to watch the children of the ship playing with her own kids, all of them doing their best to be just a bunch of normal, happy children in spite of everything.
Thankfully, for today, the one strange blond boy that seemed to follow the matriarch of the ship's community around like a lost puppy had asked if she wanted to help collect a few baskets of apples, and bless his heart, he was such a sweet, bubbly little thing that she couldn't help but agree, especially what with him still healing from such a severe, disabling injury as he was. She honestly thought it was a bit of a travesty that anyone even let him work in that state, but that stern, protective young man named Brad had made it seem like it was harder to get him to let people take care of him than it was the other way around. And she couldn't help but wonder, all that being said, if there wasn't more to the little voice in the back of her head that said he sure did remind her of that other strange blond man she'd seen during that horrible business back in December.
But all of that was far more unpleasant than she cared to think about right now, when he was chirping at her from up the ladder above her, after he'd insisted on climbing up himself instead of letting her wobble her short, little legs up there on her own, and dropping the bright, red fruit down by the handfuls into the baskets as she held them up above her head. It didn't take them long at all before they had three big, heavy baskets full and were walking back across the bright, green atrium on their way back to the kitchen to drop off their harvest, and he was chatting her ear off the whole way, asking about the kids - he'd already memorized all of their names - and about their orphanage, the way it was run, how they cared for them, seemingly fascinated with the concept and wanting to know everything about how the whole thing worked.
She wondered if there was a particular reason he'd taken such an interest. When she'd asked Brad if he was his younger brother, the man had just sputtered and denied any family connections, though it was obvious he and a good number of other people were going out of their way to care for the boy, and she had never seen him with anyone who she could definitively be sure were his own parents. Perhaps he was on his own, too. The community here seemed to be close enough that she could imagine them simply taking any wayward children in and caring for them as a group, and if that were the case, she could certainly imagine the concept of orphanages being an unusual one to the boy. How must they all look to a community that went out of their way to take care of each other so much, when her and all of the kids often seemed like they barely had enough shoes to fit on their little feet?
She was trying to explain the chore rotation that had been in place since well before she had been in charge when, just as her foot went to step out of the grass and onto the metal flooring of the corridor, she felt a strange sort of pop in her ears, her hair fluffing up from underneath the bandana she used to keep it held back, and found herself, in the blink of an eye, putting her foot down instead into soft, shifting sands.
She gave a startled shout, stumbling as she tried to maintain her equilibrium, her two baskets of apples going rolling off into the desert around her. Luckily, the sand was soft enough that when she fell, the landing was relatively forgiving, and she sputtered as she looked up, spitting out clumps of sand, squinting at the bright and shining sun, and stared in confused shock at the sight of the tiny skyline of a distant city, iles away.
The words that came out of her mouth shortly afterward would have gotten so many double dollars in the swear jar!
What in the actual fu-...???
Unfortunately, it also left her with a lot of time on her hands, and in the few months since the events that had lead to them all staying on the ship while the fancy Earth military tried to get everything put back into place, she had been trying everything she could to distract herself from a few very intense, very recent memories that had been making it a little hard for her to get a peaceful night's sleep. But at least they were all safe, shown far more care than she had ever expected, and it was comforting to watch the children of the ship playing with her own kids, all of them doing their best to be just a bunch of normal, happy children in spite of everything.
Thankfully, for today, the one strange blond boy that seemed to follow the matriarch of the ship's community around like a lost puppy had asked if she wanted to help collect a few baskets of apples, and bless his heart, he was such a sweet, bubbly little thing that she couldn't help but agree, especially what with him still healing from such a severe, disabling injury as he was. She honestly thought it was a bit of a travesty that anyone even let him work in that state, but that stern, protective young man named Brad had made it seem like it was harder to get him to let people take care of him than it was the other way around. And she couldn't help but wonder, all that being said, if there wasn't more to the little voice in the back of her head that said he sure did remind her of that other strange blond man she'd seen during that horrible business back in December.
But all of that was far more unpleasant than she cared to think about right now, when he was chirping at her from up the ladder above her, after he'd insisted on climbing up himself instead of letting her wobble her short, little legs up there on her own, and dropping the bright, red fruit down by the handfuls into the baskets as she held them up above her head. It didn't take them long at all before they had three big, heavy baskets full and were walking back across the bright, green atrium on their way back to the kitchen to drop off their harvest, and he was chatting her ear off the whole way, asking about the kids - he'd already memorized all of their names - and about their orphanage, the way it was run, how they cared for them, seemingly fascinated with the concept and wanting to know everything about how the whole thing worked.
She wondered if there was a particular reason he'd taken such an interest. When she'd asked Brad if he was his younger brother, the man had just sputtered and denied any family connections, though it was obvious he and a good number of other people were going out of their way to care for the boy, and she had never seen him with anyone who she could definitively be sure were his own parents. Perhaps he was on his own, too. The community here seemed to be close enough that she could imagine them simply taking any wayward children in and caring for them as a group, and if that were the case, she could certainly imagine the concept of orphanages being an unusual one to the boy. How must they all look to a community that went out of their way to take care of each other so much, when her and all of the kids often seemed like they barely had enough shoes to fit on their little feet?
She was trying to explain the chore rotation that had been in place since well before she had been in charge when, just as her foot went to step out of the grass and onto the metal flooring of the corridor, she felt a strange sort of pop in her ears, her hair fluffing up from underneath the bandana she used to keep it held back, and found herself, in the blink of an eye, putting her foot down instead into soft, shifting sands.
She gave a startled shout, stumbling as she tried to maintain her equilibrium, her two baskets of apples going rolling off into the desert around her. Luckily, the sand was soft enough that when she fell, the landing was relatively forgiving, and she sputtered as she looked up, spitting out clumps of sand, squinting at the bright and shining sun, and stared in confused shock at the sight of the tiny skyline of a distant city, iles away.
The words that came out of her mouth shortly afterward would have gotten so many double dollars in the swear jar!
What in the actual fu-...???
