"I know," I said. "I know. I've talked to men who've waited, all for nothing. And if it happens that way to us, Ralph, well - we'll get good and drunk together and then go out and take jobs loading cargo on a Europe-bound freighter."
Ralph stiffened and his face went pale. "Loading cargo."
There was a soft, quick step on the ramp and my mother was there. I smiled. "Hi, lady!"
"Hello. Hello, Ralph."
"Hello, Jhene."
She didn't look much older than twenty-five, in spite of having birthed and raised me and worked at the Government Statistics House. She was light and graceful and smiled a lot, and I could see how father must have loved her very much when he was alive. One parent is better than none. Poor Priory, now, raised in one of those orthopedical stations. . . .
Jhene walked over and put her hand on Ralph's face. "You look ill," she said. "What's wrong?"
Ralph managed a fairly good smile. "Nothing - at all."
Jhene didn't need prompting. She said, "You can stay here I tonight, Priory. We want you. Don't we, Chris?"
"Heck, yes."
"I should get back to the station," said Ralph, rather feebly, I observed. "But since you asked and Chris here needs help on his semantics for tomorrow, I'll stick and help him."
"Very generous," I observed.
"First, though, I've a few errands. I'll take the 'rail and be back in an hour, people."
When Ralph was gone my mother looked at me intently, then brushed my hair back with a nice little move of her fingers.
"Something's happening, Chris."
My heart stopped talking because it didn't want to talk any more for a while. It waited.
I opened my mouth, but Jhene went on:
"Something's up somewhere. I had two calls at work today. One from your teacher. One from - I can't say. I don't want to say until things happen - "
My heart started talking again, slow and warm.
"Don't tell me, then, Jhene. Those calls - "
She just looked at me. She took my hand between her two soft warm ones. "You're so young, Chris. You're so awfully young."
I didn't speak.
Her eyes brightened. "You never knew your father. I wish you had. You know what he was, Chris?"
I said, "Yeah. He worked in a Chemistry Lab, deep underground most of the time."
And, my mother added, strangely, "He worked deep under the ground, Chris, and never saw the stars."
My heart yelled in my chest. Yelled loud and hard.
"Oh, Mother. Mother - "
It was the first time in years I had called her mother.
When I woke the next morning there was a lot of sunlight in the room, but the cushion where Priory slept when he stayed over, was vacant. I listened. I didn't hear him splashing in the shower-cube, and the dryer wasn't humming. He was gone.
I found his note pinned on the sliding door.