Another bit of NaNoWriMo. Again, it’s bits and pieces and rough. I’m afraid the visual hasn’t been done yet this week. I’ll try to get something done and possibly up tomorrow.
This post is copyright Kathryn Walton-Elliott.
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Week 16 Written:
Later, after Chloe couldn’t stand it anymore and had slunk out to apologize to her parents, she settled herself down to make a stab at the homework everyone seemed to think was so important. While she scowled at the math problems on a worksheet, Mel and Sonia studiously ignored her expression and watched the evening news.
Mel wasn’t sure why she continued this habit. It always depressed her. Thinking about it while a fluff piece danced across the screen, she decided it was the guilt. As a teacher and, well, a human being, she felt like she ought to know what was going on in the world. Who had time for a newspaper with a daughter and thirty teens to manage? Sonia usually watched with a line formed between her eyebrows, but never seemed bothered when the shut off the TV and went to bed.
Tonight, the usual stories of political bumbling mixed with fluffy bits of scandal and short “heartwarming” pieces. Mel was just considering getting a book out when the anchor said something that caught her attention.
“Today the ICCA has declared a state of emergency off the Alaskan coast. Thousands of Yupik inhabitants of several islands are rapidly being flooded out by rising sea levels. ICCA issued this statement.”
The picture flipped to reveal a gray-haired man in a somber suit speaking from behind a rich wood podium with the ICCA logo displayed on the front.
“In light of the rising levels of sea-flood induced homelessness in Alaska, we have coordinated with the United States government to institute emergency provisions for the accommodation of Yupik youth. Adults on the Alaskan islands have voted to remain on the islands as long as possible in hopes that a solution will be reached. Meanwhile, as safe, sanitary housing is quickly declining, children ages two to eighteen will be relocated to foster homes in the lower forty-eight. This will primarily be to homes on islands and coastland located along the west coast. Viable households will be receiving the details and instructions for allocated wards shortly.”
He grimaced at the camera as it switched back to the anchor. Sonia’s hand found Mel’s and gave it a squeeze. Mel couldn’t stand to wait through the weather and financial reports. She flicked off the set and announced with false cheer, “Bedtime, Chloe.”
“But I’m not done.”
“Should have done it earlier then.”
Sonia shot Mel a look. They tried not to verbally disagree about Chloe in front of Chloe, but Sonia clearly didn’t think Mel’s reasoning was fair. Mel wavered.
“Fine, take it into you room and finish it up, then straight to bed. Give us a holler when you’re ready to be tucked in.”
“I’m too old to be tucked in.”
“Your choice.”
They knew Chloe would call them. She had these bouts of feigned maturity, but she loved attention from her parents and would complain if they forgot to come kiss her goodnight.
Once their daughter had dragged her feet down the hall to her room, Mel turned to Sonia.
“Do you think they’ll send us one?”
Sonia frowned, “They should. If this is what they’re doing, then we ought to be allocated a child. I mean, we live on an island, we have a stable income, and we already have a child.”
“I know all that, Son, but I’m wondering if the gay thing will stop them.”
“You’d think they’d be ready to drop that. I mean, we’re teaching spectrum sexuality in high schools and we have openly gay politicians all over the place. What’s the problem?”
Mel gave her a look, “You know as well as me that that doesn’t stop old, conservative, white guys from thinking we’re devil-spawn and unfit to care for kids.”
Sonia sighed, “I know. I just wish I didn’t.”
“Do we want them to choose us?” Mel voiced the question they’d both been avoiding.
“I don’t think it’s a matter of want,” Sonia said slowly, “It’s a matter of doing what’s needed and helping someone who’s, well, in need.”
Mel nodded. Again, she knew all that, but she was also thinking their level of desire to take care of another kid was going to make an impact whether they wanted it to or not. She didn’t say this though, since Sonia was pretty perceptive and was probably thinking the same thing. Talking about it wasn’t going to help right now.
“I suppose it doesn’t matter until we get a letter,” Sonia said as she gathered up glasses and walked off to the kitchen.
Mel noted that she used the word ‘until’, not the word ‘unless’.
+
The letter came a week and half later, on a Thursday afternoon. Chloe usually picked up the mail on her walk from the where the school bus dropped her. She liked to flip through the colorful junk and the official looking white envelopes addressed to either Sonia Hart or Melanie Kolby. Sometimes, around her birthday or a big holiday, she’d get to snatch out a rare envelope addressed to Chloe Hart-Kolby. It was almost always a card that quickly lost her interest with its impersonal message, but the thrill of getting mail never faded.
Today, she wandered along the shortcut between the main road and their house while checking the front of each item. Most were the bland, official kind that were almost always labeled Mama’s name. One, though, was labeled with both her parents’ names. This was really rare since they weren’t registered for a domestic partnership like Tanya’s moms were. Chloe eyed the letter. It looked really serious, with its print directly on the front instead of inside a plastic window. Up in the corner it didn’t have a stamp or postage mark, but a red, gridded globe with the letters ICCA curved underneath. There wasn’t any return address either. Strange. Chloe held the envelope up to the light, but couldn’t see a thing. Wrinkling her nose, she slipped it to the bottom of the pile and finished looking through. By the time she reached the house, the mystery of the letter had sunk to the back of her mind and she was more concerned with getting her homework done so she could go play with Sumptuous. She hated the new rule about finishing her homework before she could play outside. Sometimes, she didn’t finish until dinner and then all she could do was run out, tell him she couldn’t do anything tonight and run back in to set the table. Stupid school.
