by Mr. David R. Dorrycott

Chapter Three

Finishing a Task

Amanda woke early, even the morning songbirds just outside her bedroom window were still sleeping in their nests. Quietly, so as not to wake her family, she slipped out of bed and padded softly to the bathroom. As she cared for her needs the young mouse ran last nights dinner through her mind. It had been a pleasant surprise to discover Sara still waiting. It wasn’t often her friend stayed for dinner. What puzzled Amanda was the way her parents treated the black furred woman. It was almost like they treated the rest of the family. Had something changed? Maybe Arthur, her older brother, had finally noticed Sara. After all, she was a bright talented artist, and to Amanda’s shame she envied her friends natural beauty. Arthur had never been big about the race issue himself, though his friends were. “Now if only I could gain a twenty pounds or so” she told her reflection. “I’d show her. I bet I’d be just as impressive as she is.”

Turning off the bathroom light Amanda quietly returned to her own room. It really didn’t matter what she really wanted. She hadn’t been able to gain any weight in years. Not since Doctor Willibos had put her on the new drugs. She just didn’t seem to have any appetite anymore. Sara though, she could pack away twice as much as Amanda could manage, and look like she’d like to ask for more. What was worse, she never seemed to gain any weight.

Closing her door Amanda turned on her desk lamp, pulled out the scroll her mother had loaned her, and clipped it to a drafting table beside her desk. Turning on the drafting tables brighter light Amanda picked up her glasses. Darst. A strange language to discover in a forgotten chest on the Northwest coastline. No one had written anything seriously long in Darst since... Since the reign of Thomas the Wimp. That was four hundred years ago. “Of course there is the church” she reminded herself as she studied the ancient words. “Always using Darst in services, though why doesn’t make sense. Bet I’m the only one in our congregation that really knows what’s being miss-said.”

Settling down at her desk she opened a ledger waiting there, turning to a fresh page she patiently continued working out each line of the text, word by painfully archaic word. This was one project she was determined to finish before she died. To be certain she did so meant she had to work every day. It wasn’t that long a text, Amanda just wasn’t that adept at translations. Each word could mean several things, depending upon the sentences context, and the context of the previous sentence. Even something as simple as a leading or following word could change the entire meaning of a line. Combined with the muddle her drugs often made of her thoughts, it was a maddingly slow job.

A soft knock at her door eventually brought Amanda out of her thoughts. Glancing at the clock above her head, she was surprised to discover how many hours had already passed by. “I’m awake” she announced. Her door opened, allowing her father to enter. He carried a small tray. Apple slices, a few small wedges of cheddar cheese, a buttered roll and a large glass of chocolate milk on its surface.

“Breakfast honey” he announced, placing the tray on a small table at the end of Amanda’s bed. “Eat up. If your going to slog through that thing, you’ll need your strength.”

“Thanks dad. I didn’t notice how long I’ve been working.” Automatically she picked up a bottle from her desk, removing a brightly colored capsule from it as she stood slowly. “Drink with milk” she intoned with a serious voice. “Or your tummy will just scream like the dickens.” Popping the capsule in her mouth she took a mouthful of milk, forcing the capsule down. “Thanks dad. But your going to be late for work if you don’t hurry. Then we’ll have to live as migrant workers, picking beans from lettuce patches.” She picked up a slice of bitter green apple, one of the few foods she still enjoyed.

Her father laughed. A deep cheerful sound that sent thrills of pleasure through Amanda’s frail body. “Ah, they can fire me. I’ll have another job by noon. Actually, I’ve already been offered a job at the base. Their motor pool needs some civilian workers to match the new law, and I’m a veteran if you can remember that far back. Should I take it?”

It wasn’t often her father asked her opinion. When he did it was always something important, a question that demanded serious thought. “What’s mom say?” she asked.

“Weigh all the options dear” her father answered in a falsetto that was no where near her mothers rich voice. “What will you gain, what will you lose, and can I finally afford that zebra coat I want.”

Amanda giggled, picking up a thinly cut wedge of apple. “Dad. Your totally weird you know that? Zebra’s are extinct, they have been for thirty years.“

“Yeah well, I’ve heard it mentioned around here before that I seem to be half a bubble off center. Still I haven’t been tossed out yet.”

“That’s because mom says she doesn’t have the time to train someone new. Besides your only forty.”

“So? She can train two twenty year olds.”

Amanda made a face. “Moms not wired for two-twenty and you know it.”

“Yeah” her father agreed, chuckling at the old and well worn joke. “Seriously. Think I should chance it?”

“Donno dad. I’m not you. You’ve only been working at Northcape for two years. Every since you retired. Do you really miss the military life that much?”

“Yes I do” her father admitted. “Not the spit and shine, or the little butter bar prima-donnas. But I do miss it.”

“Then I’d take it” Amanda admitted. “Life doesn’t offer you many nice things dad. You gotta grab the ones that come by. Just don’t hold too hard, they’ll slip away.”

“Like sand” her father agreed. “I’ll do that then. I’ll go in today and accept. Wanna come with me? It’ll be a blast. We can watch the jets practice stop and goes.”

“Dad...” Amanda crossed her arms, staring at her father. “I seriously do not like the military. I understand it. I honor it, but I never will like it. The idea of killing, for any reason...”

“Yeah, they wouldn’t take you anyway pumpkin. Your too hardheaded. See you later today then and...” He pointed at the tray. “Finish all of that, your mother will come in an hour. I want that tray cleaned Miss Amanda Almertain. Or I might think about telling your little friend Sara not to come by this afternoon.”

“Yes father” Amanda sighed. “I’ll eat it all. I promise.” She waited calmly as he leaned down, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Just don’t expect me to be hungry at lunch” she warned.

“That’s your mothers problem” her father agreed as he left her room.

She nibbled on her apple slice. Eating was something she knew she had to do, just lately it had become something that she had no real interest in. Finishing her slice she forced herself to down one of cheese, and most of the milk. It made her feel too full, but it wasn’t enough to keep her going. Picking up the plate she took it to her desk. Eat, sometimes it seemed that all her parents wanted to do was shove food down her throat. Amanda knew that they meant well, it just bugged her some times. Picking up another bit of apple and her pen she returned to her work, absently nibbling at her food as she worked.