Eden's Root (3 page)

“I’m guessing you would like some braids again missy?”

“Yes, please!” Kiara clapped her hands.

“You got it!” Fi reached behind her to turn up the Internet radio and then rummaged in her bin for elastics. She grabbed a few and pulled them onto her wrist. Fi divided Kiara’s hair and began winding it into a braid, her fingers separating and weaving all the pieces expertly. Fi was a champion braider. She had braided and fishtailed her own hair every way possible and braided dolls’, friends’, and Kiara’s hair as well. Sometimes even Maggie let her braid her hair. She and Kiara sang along to the radio while she wound a perfect braid into Kiara’s hair, starting at her scalp and moving along the part straight toward the back of her head. The song ended and the radio went to a commercial. Fi reached back and touched to turn it down. She hated the loud, shouting commercials.

“Fi?”

“Hmmm?”

“What was Luke like?” Kiara’s voice was quiet.

Fi froze for a second and felt her heart squeeze. Of course she would ask eventually, she thought as she recovered her focus and continued her braiding. It really shows what a kind little girl Kiara is, she thought, that she asked me and not Maggie. Even at her young age Kiara somehow knew that talking about Luke would hurt Maggie. Still, Fi realized, she has a right to know. It’s time. She took a deep, wavering breath.

“He was delightful.” She turned Kiara’s chin to meet her gaze and smiled, reassuring her, “I’m glad you asked me.” Kiara’s eyes remained nervous, but she managed a small smile in return. Fi turned Kiara’s head forward again so that she could finish her braid and continued. The fluttering feeling in her stomach began to go away as she talked.

“He was like any other fat, healthy baby,” Fi began. “He had a beautiful, round face and deep blue eyes like Mama’s, and yours. Strawberry blonde wispy curls,” she laughed, remembering. “He was like an angel baby. He slept through the night. I was too young to realize how important that was, but Mama always told me that about him.” She slipped an elastic band off her wrist and wrapped it around Kiara’s first finished braid. “He was the type of baby who was mostly mellow and quiet, but sometimes cooing and laughing. When he got older, we realized that he loved art just like Mama.”

She brushed her own hair back with her hands and then starting piecing another braid. She shifted on the bed to get a better angle. “He always loved to watch Mama paint and draw and he loved to paint and draw himself. Many babies do, but with Luke that was like the only thing he really loved. He was always at his little plastic picnic table in the backyard, coloring and painting…himself mostly,” she chuckled. “You know,” Fi stopped, a sudden thought interrupting her. “Mama has a drawer with a bunch of his drawings and paintings. I can show them to you sometime if you’d like to see them.”

She met Kiara’s troubled eyes in the mirror above her dresser. So thoughtful for such a young child, Fi thought with a heavy heart. It might as well be her just a few years ago.

Kiara nodded. “Was it very hard for Mama?” she paused. “When he died?” she added, as if there could be any other meaning.

“Of course it was,” Fi said. She felt her chest squeeze as she fought to keep her tone level. There was no reason not to be honest. Kiara would feel it soon enough. “It was very hard for us all.” She reached for another elastic around her wrist and wrapped the second braid. “To be honest,” she admitted, “It still is. I still miss him terribly and I think we always will.”

She handed Kiara her hand mirror and Kiara slid off the bed to walk to the big mirror. She held up the hand mirror to look at the sides and back of her new hairstyle. Her smile melted Fi’s heart and twisted her stomach at the same time. Anger fluttered in her chest for a moment as she thought of what was to come. What Kiara was going to see and feel. But as soon as it flared, the anger melted away into a hollow ache of sadness. How she wished that Kiara could be spared. She felt the telltale prick of tears at the back of her eyes.

“Look at it this way Kiara,” Fi added. “I love you so much I can’t imagine loving someone more. If anything happened to you I would be totally devastated, but my love…well, my love wouldn’t have anywhere to go.” She gestured for Kiara to come back to the bed and then folded her small frame into her arms. She fought off her own tears as she watched them crawl down Kiara’s soft cheeks. Bowing her head, Fi nestled her face against Kiara’s soft neck.

“Love is like water,” Fi murmured, “You can’t squish it down and make it any smaller. No matter how you squeeze it,” she held Kiara close as her chest tightened. “It just keeps busting out. So when you lose someone, you don’t lose the love. It stays with you just as big in your heart as it always was. We may want the ache to go away, but we can’t give up the love. So you live with both.” She paused and met Kiara’s eyes in the mirror. Her face was red and wet with tears. “Do you understand?” she choked and Kiara nodded. The crazy thing was, even as young as she was, Fi was sure that Kiara did understand what she meant.

She kissed the little girl’s head. “You look beautiful honey. Do you love it?” She held the hand mirror up so Kiara could see both sides of her new hairstyle.

“Yes!” Kiara breathed, wiping away her tears. “It’s like Tiana!” Fi smiled. This was Kiara’s highest compliment, her favorite movie princess. Kiara slid down from the bed to go back to her own room. When she opened the door, she turned back.

“Fi?” Her voice wobbled. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

Fi nodded, wiping her face with the back of her hand and sniffing. “Of course, baby girl. Of course you can.” She paused and tilted her head, “Hey, have I ever taught you the ‘Unicorn Song’?” Kiara thought about it and then shook her head.

Fi smiled. “Oh, that is a good one, you will like it sweetie. Let’s get you in your jammies first…”

----------- Fi -----------

“Fionnuala Marie?” He always called her by her full name as a pet name. It was a funny irony…most parents used full names when they were angry. He’d been using her full name a lot lately and every time he said it her heart squeezed a little tighter because he wouldn’t be saying it to her forever.

“Yes Papa?” Fi perched on a vinyl chair next to her father’s hospital bed as she had every afternoon and night for the two weeks since he’d entered the hospital. It was all happening so fast, she thought, blending together into one horrible, inescapable tragedy. She just couldn’t believe that she was stuck in this nightmare again. After Luke, she assumed that was it, that his death was her life’s tragedy, her big story of sadness. No one could possibly be asked to handle more. She hadn’t wanted to see it. ‘No, no, no,’ seemed to be the constant drumbeat in her head. No. No. No.…it drummed all day and all night as she tossed in her bed. No. Her beloved father, her Papa, was Sick.

Now he gestured to her in the quiet room, the constant beep of his machines sounding an affirmative counterpoint to the ever-present thump of ‘No’ inside Fi’s head. He waved his thin, shaking hand, his face and body gaunt, his hair fine. The reality was upon her now, she knew. His eyes were sunken, but Fi saw that the spark of her father still burned in their depths. She kept her gaze on his eyes and smiled encouragingly.

“I have to talk to you about something very important,” he said, struggling to sit up. “I wish we had more time, but I realize now that we don’t.” He cursed as he tried to move his tubes and blankets.

“What is it Papa?” Fi asked, concerned. “Wait”, she said as she used the switch to prop up the adjustable bed. She patted his hand, being careful of the IV attachment, and adjusted his blankets to cover his thin, papery arms. Suddenly, he shook his head and put his right index finger over his mouth in a gesture of silence and pointed behind her. Maggie was coming back into the room.

Fi whirled back to her father, her brows knitted. What could he possibly have to talk to her about that he couldn’t say in front of Maggie?

“Margaret?” Her father said in a funny voice. “Is there any way you’d let me keep this little nipper overnight?” He pointed to Fi. “Pleeeeeeease?” he pled like a child who wants a cookie. Fi laughed and clapped her hands. What a good idea! She would love to stay with Papa overnight. “I can have the nurse bring a cot and blanket and then you can have John pick her up for school in the morning,” he added.

“Yes Mama, pleeeeease,” Fi begged. Maggie’s eyes went back and forth between the two and she let out a weary laugh.

“Alright,” she agreed, “alright. Of course Fi can spend the night.” She gave Fi a serious look. “No skipping school tomorrow though!” Fi nodded. “And no exhausting your father keeping him up all night talking, ok?” Fi nodded again.

“Ok,” Maggie said and turned to the sleeping bundle that was Kiara in the soft plastic corner chair. “Now I have to get this one home to bed,” she grunted as she slipped her arms beneath Kiara and lifted. “Ooooh my goodness, she is getting too big for this,” she muttered, with a wry smile. “Or I am getting too old.” She hoisted the limp Kiara onto her hip and walked toward the door. She turned back in the doorway. For a split second Fi saw the agony cross her mother’s face and her own stomach wrenched. How much Maggie would like to be the one to stay here, to curl up next to her husband in the bed and sing to him, brushing his hair as she did when the girls were sick. “Have a good night you two,” Maggie smiled and slipped out the door. Fi took a deep, shaky breath and pasted a smile on her face.

“So now what Papa?” she asked. He smiled back in an odd way…like the smile never reached his eyes really.

“Now I need you to go close the door,” he said quietly.

Fi’s brows knotted quizzically again, but she got up and walked over to shut the door and came back to sit by his side. For at least a minute her father did not say anything, he just kind of sighed and patted her hand. Fi waited patiently. She was content just to spend time with him, to be touching him. Still, his manner was making her a little nervous.

“Fi, my little one,” he finally started. “I am going to tell you a lot of things tonight and I need you to listen with an open mind, ok?” She studied his face. He was very serious all of a sudden. His face had already changed so much with the cancer that it was hard to tell whether his face was wrinkled with concern or just exhaustion, but she could swear she saw concern there. Concern for her, she wondered?

She said nothing and simply smiled a bit and nodded. “Ok Papa.”

He sat back and closed his eyes. “Fi, did I ever talk to you about my friend Dr. Louis Bachman?” he asked with his eyes still closed.

“Noooo, no I don’t think so Papa,” she said, trying to remember. He nodded and opened his eyes.

“Of course,” he shook his head. “I wasn’t allowed to tell you.” He frowned. “Well, it turns out that he was more of a genius than I wished,” he said cryptically, his frown deepening.

Fi’s heart jumped. “Are you ok Papa?” He was scaring her now. Was he in pain? Was his mind starting to wander? Maybe I should get the nurse, she fretted.

“Yes, yes, Fi,” he assured her, trying to crack a smile. “I’m sorry, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I want you to just listen to me and don’t try to make sense of it all yet, ok?” he asked. “It’s important that you realize that I’m not losing my mind.” She nodded.

Mike took a deep breath and then began, “I met Louis Bachman when I began some classified work on a project called Diaspora about five years ago. You know, my ‘NASA’ project,” he said and she nodded. “Only I wasn’t really working directly with NASA this time like I have sometimes in the past. This time the project was set up under the Department of Defense, which I didn’t really understand at the time.” He sniffed lightly. “Dummy,” he mumbled.

“Anyway,” he continued. “At first they basically told us that Diaspora was a ‘think-tank’ project putting scientists together with a wide variety of expertise to plan out a self-sufficient space colony to be set up on Mars.” Fi gasped and Mike nodded, “Yes, I was properly excited as well. NASA has been drafting long-term plans for the manned exploration and colonization of bodies within our solar system for a while, and Diaspora was really to be the culmination of that planning. At least, that was what they told us.”

Mike stopped. “Listen honey,” he searched her face, “I know that you’re super-smart and have an amazing vocabulary, but if I say anything tonight that you don’t understand, please let me know. I want you to understand everything I’m going to tell you, ok?” She nodded again. It made sense so far.

“So you and Dr. Bachman were part of a group of scientists who were helping to plan what you would have to do to live in space?” she asked.

“Pretty much,” Mike nodded. “But there were things about Diaspora that were very special. Louis was an expert botanist and was there to consult about the feasibility and challenges of growing natural foods within the colony. Unlike many space missions, the plan was not to give people freeze-dried, pre-prepared foods for life. This was not meant to be a temporary installation. Diaspora had to be a place where the people could sustain themselves, could grow their own fruits and vegetables and raise their own food animals like fish.” His voice quickened a bit as he began describing it.

“That is so cool Papa,” Fi breathed and Mike nodded.

“I was so excited when we first began work on it,” he admitted. “Diaspora was such an ambitious idea. Not only creating a tiny little colony for a small number of people, all buttoned up and cold like a submarine. Diaspora was going to be like something from a movie…a big, warm, welcoming place where families would live and grow, children would go to school, where large open rooms existed for swimming and playing games, and where others existed with fields of grains, lettuce greens, and vegetables. Just like farms here on Earth. You see, if it were on Mars, Diaspora would be too far from Earth to be regularly supplied. We would have to come up with the means to make it self-sustaining.”

Fi shook her head in amazement as the picture painted itself in her mind. Imagine it, just like the science-fiction stories she loved. “Why didn’t you ever tell me about this?” she asked.