Logs:Of Preparation and Pining (Or, Will Be Enough)

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Of Preparation and Pining (Or, Will Be Enough)
Dramatis Personae

Kavalam, Kelawini

2020-11-25


"How long, you think?"

Location

Across the Rift - Bangor, ME


It's early, early morning on Thanksgiving Day, and the streets of Bangor are sparsely travelled. A jogger here, a dogwalker there, quiet and unenthusiastic in the misty chill that threatens icy rain. From certain angles, though, there's a sort of magic to the hush of the light fog, as if one might just turn a corner and step into another world.

No such luck for the otherworldly refugees making their way through town, though at least their progress is unnoticed and unharrassed. Kelawini is bundled up and still hugging herself tight, wearing her profound misery not just on her face but in the jerkiness of her usually fluid and easy movements. She does not look as though she's slept much, and her eyes are just a touch bloodshot. "I think the bank gon know bumbai," she's saying, "they see the numbers stay all hammajang. But by then we long gone, ya?"

Kavalam is quiet, head bowed in his hood, hands shoved in his coat pockets. His steps are trudging, his shoulders hunched, and he pays as little attention to the people who pass by as they are paying to the teenagers. "That," he agrees, quiet, "is the idea." He falls back into quiet for a little while, watching a tiny Yorkie that tries to sniff his legs before its owner, oblivious, hurries it along. "Supplies you should have plenty. Money -- soon. Maybe that will be enough, hm?"

"Mebbe," Kelawini mumbles, kind of indistinct. She's quiet for a moment, fidgeting with her scarf where it spills over the collar of her coat, pulling her hood down just a little tighter, tucking a stray lock of hair back behind an ear. "I know our plan stay lolo, but..." She swallows, shaking her head. "How long it take? Before I forget you. How long, you think?"

"Not so stupid, maybe. You and your sister," Kavalam is staying on this Preparation topic a little doggedly, a little determined, "you could get a car started, yes? Steal one bus? A holiday weekend, everything it will be slower -- if you are on the road today less traffic, you..." He trails off, swallowing. His steps halt. "I do not know." This is softer. "For my parents it took -- some months? Less. For you."

Kelawini nods numbly. "'Ae, if one us guys can drive, mebbe." She does not sound even the least bit enthused with this idea. Her shoulders hunch inward and her head dips as she comes to a stop beside him. "What if--" Her eyes skip aside to him furtively. "What if I ask Harm--and we just--" Her voice wavers and she blinks at the sidewalk in front of her. "We remind each other. Talk story on you. Every day."

"Do you imagine my family just --" Kavalam draws his breath back in slowly, and lets it back out with a small wobble of his head. He starts walking again, eyes flicking up at intervals to track the quiet sidewalk around them. "Maybe. Maybe, you can try that."

"Mebbe they thought they neva can..." Kelawini ventures, but there's no strength in the words. "Sorry," is quiet, resigned. When her tears finally break loose she wipes them away vehemently with her scarf, blinking her eyes clear and breathing out slow. "I'll miss you. Long as I can."

Kavalam glances sideways to Kelawini. His eyes squeeze shut, too, for just a quick second. "I think that most probably, I'll miss you longer."