Sash nods her head to let me know that she remembers. “But why are you saying happy birthday to me?” she asks, ‘birthday’ now translating and part of her vocabulary.
“Today’s my birthday. You told me that you had a vision that showed us being born at the same time, so it’s your birthday, too.”
She leans to me, kisses my lips, and then nuzzles my cheek. “Happy birthday, Chase.”
“Thanks,” I reply. “It couldn’t have been better.”
Chapter 11
Sash and I wake up early the next morrow, but not by choice. About an hour before we usually get out of bed, Aven launches into non-stop babbling. Mixed with her usual gibberish is an occasional “Mama” or “Dada,” but most of the time, she points at the tunnel entrance and shouts her third comprehensible word.
“Go!”
Although there’s no way to explain it, she seems to know that she’s off to her first morrow at Home. Based on how animated she is, she couldn’t be more excited about it. After dressing ourselves, Sash and I get Aven into a tiny pair of black pants and sleeveless V-neck. I chuckle at the thought that she looks like an infant model about to be paraded down the runway at a punk fashion show.
As we all drink sap together, Sash and I encourage Aven to say her name. Her only response is to wrinkle her forehead and study our faces. Before we head out the tunnel, Sash summons Kyra to let her know that we’re on our way. Wanting me to get used to traveling with Aven, Sash straps the child carrier over my chest and we all leave our habitat for the morrow.
I’ve never exercised so much caution while traveling as I do carrying Aven. Giving a wide berth to any trees and steep hills along the way, I steer through the widest valleys leading to the north. I doubt I ever exceed a thousand miles per hour, a much slower pace than I’m accustomed to traveling.
We reach the broad meadow in front of Home to find Marc and Kyra already waiting for us. I’ve met the forty-something female Keeper several times in the past in conjunction with my duties as a Traveler. Her long, straight hair is almost always tied in a bun on top of her head, probably to keep young hands from grabbing it. With a medium build, round face, big eyes, and little bulb on the end of her nose, she has a pleasant, soothing appearance.
When I pass Aven off to Kyra, Aven instantly pinches her cheeks. In a gentle, caring way, Kyra establishes a few boundaries by pulling Aven’s hands away and telling her that it’s not alright to do that. In response, Aven squeezes Kyra’s cheeks again.
As Sash and I have already learned, Aven can be a handful in several ways. Much like her mother, she’s extremely strong-willed. It’s not uncommon for her to resist a bath in the waterfall cavern by trying to squirm away from us, or avoid going to sleep at night by chattering loudly in the dark, sometimes for hours and hours.
Based on her mysteriously calling me “Dada” and seeming to know that we were on our way to Home, she also must have some type of mystical clairvoyance. After witnessing Sash’s glimpses of the future and adapting to the more magical aspects of Krymzyn, I’m not at all fazed by her sixth-sense. I can’t say the same about how she explores how far she can push someone before they react, but that’s just what young children do.
Like all new parents, Sash and I experience major changes in our lives. And like all new parents, we gradually adapt. It was easier when Sash’s only duty was to care for Aven. Once we’re both back to fulfilling our purposes, we juggle our schedules, alternate pick-ups and drop-offs, and dedicate our evenings to our daughter. Although it wears us out at times, the simplicity of life in Krymzyn makes parenthood easier than I assume it would be on Earth.
Since I often start my duties in the northern portion of the Delta, I’m usually the one who drops Aven off at Home. Sash typically picks her up at the end of the morrow, although we sometimes meet at Home and spend the evening with Aven and the other children.
While watching the children play in the common room or quietly having their sap together, I get a better sense of why people in Krymzyn are the way they are. Although they’re always taught to be polite and respectful to one another, interaction with others isn’t encouraged the way it is on Earth. Communing with the entire world around them is much more important to them.
If Darkness falls while Aven is with us, Sash insists on being the one to transport her to Home. Considering how much faster Sash’s traveling speed is than mine, I don’t blame her for wanting to take on that responsibility. She’s also a better fighter than anyone else in the Delta. But to be honest, it annoys me at times because I feel like she doesn’t trust me with the task. The one time I bring it up with her, she simply replies, “I’m faster.”
As I noticed during Aven’s first few months of life, children develop much faster in Krymzyn than they do on Earth. In the weeks after her Naming Ritual, Aven’s vocabulary increases from three words to twenty. Cup, sky, sap, and other words that I’d expect to be among a child’s first in this world soon come out of her mouth. Like many small children, she has trouble with certain consonants, especially combining them. She pronounces “tree” as “chee,” and “clouds” as “cowds.”
At four months old, Aven sits up on her own. She’s also easily engaged in simple games. Sash brings a few toys to our habitat from Home, all
