chapter eight

IX
         The shadows on the wall crept up and expanded and changed color. The sounds the neighbors made, which had grown fainter through the passing of  time grew steadily louder again; sounds of doors slamming, children running down the halls and mothers clucking disapproval, calling out for breakfast.
         “We’re near the palace.” Sienna sat by the window, which was brown and gray with dust and dried traces of raindrops and mist. “Are you sure we’re safe here?”
         “The closer we are to danger is where we’re safest.” Mama said, “It’s the last thing they would expect.”
         “They’d already been to the house.” Sienna said.
         “I know.” Mama said.
         “I felt sorry for Sheldon; getting caught up in something he has no idea about.” Sienna said.
         “Ah.” Papa said, “I see you’ve developed a liking to this boy.”
         “I develop a liking to likeable people, Papa.”
         “Now, now. No secrets.”
         “You’re acting silly.” Sienna frowned. “It’s enough that he helped. The two detectives hitched a ride into the city and they didn’t know I was in the car with them.”
         Papa and Mama stared at her in disbelief and Sienna told them the whole story of it all. And Mama remarked at how a smart boy Sheldon was, and Papa asked some more about Sheldon’s father in the rebellion.
         “At least we know you have loyal supporters among the people when you move up.” Sienna shrugged, “And you can hear them out when you’re the leader, Papa. You can listen to their opinions and you can work with them.”
         “I’d been considering that.” Papa lifted a foot to accommodate the bright pink chick that passed underneath him, “Conferences with the people. Proposals made for the people, with the people.”
         “Enough talk.” Mama set down breakfast on the rickety table. “Eat.”
Outside, a new wave of angry mob people swarmed towards the palace.
         “They never tire, don’t they?” Sienna asked the neon green chick perched on the windowsill. “Look, Legolas, they’re insistent. If they’re insistent enough, they get what they want.” Legolas kept chirping and chirping, looking outside, puzzled at seeing several small big people scurrying like insects. He pecked at the dust of the window and blinked, and chirped and blinked. “Quite admirable, don’t you think?”
         “Sienney, chickens know only two things.” Papa said, “Eat and shit.”
Mama pulled his ear and Sienna laughed.
         “I don’t think so, Legolas.” Sienna took Legolas in her hand and put him on a stack of old newspaper surrounded by a makeshift pen of egg cartons, “You’re smarter because you’re green.”
         “Why didn’t you name them after the powerpuff girls?” Mama asked.
         “Who?”
         “Blossom, bubbles, buttercup. Pink, Blue, green, like those chicks.”
         “Who?”
         “It was a cartoon. Popular in my generation.” Mama turned to Papa, “You remember them, love? Those three little girls with gigantic eyes.”
         “Yes. I liked the Japanese version better, though.” And again they had their own world of conversation. Sienna sat by her pets, looking at Mama and Papa, unlike any other mamas and papas around the world; who had their own world while they talked about everything the realms of their memories and imagination could reach. They were the sort of parents who were capable of filling out gaps within each other and kept their bond strong and aflame. For a moment they talked of cartoons, next, of pencils and of paint. Then of color, and of the sky. Sienna looked at them, thought of Sheldon, and looked away, a smile inevitably visible upon her face as she created a world of her own.