Generation Three, Chapter Fourteen
"Oh no you don't!" Lotus
shouted, jogging over to take the box from me.
"It's a box of Chambray's stuffed
animals – the FOURTH by the way – good luck with that," I
argued, trying to grab the box back from him. "My groceries
weigh more."
"No lifting! You know better,"
he admonished, successfully wrestling the box from my hands and
heading toward the moving truck with it.
"I'm just pregnant, not an
invalid!" I said. Behind me I heard a chuckle and rounded on
Cobalt. "I'm not!"
Cobalt shrugged, "you're never
gonna convince him. He'd rather you sit on the couch with your feet
up and do nothing. When I told him you were coming to help, he yelled
at me for twenty minutes because I didn't say no."
With an eye roll, I stomped back to the
house. "I'm not even all the pregnant," I muttered.
Chambray, who was on the couch doing
nothing, twisted around when she heard my voice. "Doesn't
matter," she trilled. "Lotus says that pregnant women are
to be honored and protected." Cerulean smirked, echoing my own
private thoughts.
"Well you're not pregnant, so why
don't you finish packing your own zoo?" I said, nudging her
playfully.
"Can't! It's about to be on,"
she said, pointing to the television. The volume was currently muted
as the credits rolled on the whatever had just been showing but in a
small cutaway, there was my own face looking back at me.
"Did I miss it?" Sapphy
skidded into the room, out of breath. One glance at the television
and she was reassured. "Cobalt! Lotus! It's almost time!!"
she shouted toward the open front door.
"This is silly, it's a ten-minute
interview," I argued as all my family crowded into the living
room. Lotus forced Cerulean to get up and offered the vacant seat to
me while Chambray unmuted the television.
"Next on Berry Talk, Misty sits
down with Lazuli Dust on the three month anniversary of the
Disappearance of Flight 627!"
"They make it
sound like a mystery novel," Chambray said with a giggle. Cobalt
and Lotus shot her simultaneous warning looks and she clammed up
quickly. "Sorry ZuZu," she whispered, chastised.
"Don't be
sweetie, it does sound like that huh?" I said, pulling her
closer to me and wrapping my arm around her. "Hopefully it has a
good ending,"I said quietly.
"There you
are!" Sapphy exclaimed as the picture shifted to the set of
Berry Talk. "Did you meet anyone backstage? Didn't she interview
Tangi Tulip the day you were there? Did you meet her?" She was
shushed by everyone as Misty placed her hand over mine to begin the
interview.
"We're here today with Lazuli
Dust – arguably the most recognizable face associated with SimAm
Flight 627 – to discuss her continued involvement in the search for
the passenger jet. In the audience, at Lazuli's request, are several
of the family and friends of the passengers. So, Lazuli – it's been
three months now, have there been any new leads into what happened?"
"Leads? Yes. Leads that went
anywhere? No. As you know, SimAm has essentially stopped their
search. Their assumption is that if anyone had survived the crash –
we'd know by now. But the people in your audience still need
answers," I replied, crossing my legs on screen.
The audience erupted in applause and
Misty joined them, nodding vigorously. "You've been very
involved with the search – even after leaving the airline. And
you've been very outspoken about their decision to call off their
search."
I nodded, though she hadn't actually
asked a question. "I have been, yes. I realized after my last
press conference that I couldn't stand up there and deliver the no
answer answers in this case. When they announced they were calling
off the search last month – I admit, I spent an hour yelling at the
walls in my house. It felt like they'd given up on their crew and I
couldn't stand it! I've been on a flight crew before and I'd always
assumed that if anything happened, the airline would do EVERYTHING
possible."
"So do you blame SimAm for the
accident? Are you angry with them?" Misty asked.
"Let's be clear here – we
don't know what happened to Flight 627. We can assume and we can
guess but until we find the plane, until we find the black box, until
we find evidence – it is a mistake to call it an accident. That
being said – no, I don't blame them. Captain Diamond is one of
SimAm's most experienced pilots and I am certain he did everything
possible in whatever situation they were in," I said, taking a
long pause to drink from the mug. "Am I angry though? I'm a lot
of things lately – I am three months pregnant after all," this
garnered gasps from the audience and Misty.
"You're pregnant?
Congratulations!" she exclaimed, easily sidetracked from
interview.
I thanked her quietly and let her
gush for a moment before continuing. "I have moments of anger
toward them and I have moments of sadness and exasperation as well. I
understand, as the people here do, that there has to be a certain
level of practicality involved. There is only so much money and the
Bekmes Desert is huge. Meteorologists and geologists have confirmed
that the sandstorm that day dramatically altered the landscape. There
could be one tomorrow that changes it again and reveals something! Or
they could have flown longer than predicted and ended up in the
Casper sea. These are all areas our organization is searching."
"Let's talk about your
organization for a moment. I understand you've fronted a lot of
personal wealth to fund the continuing search – is that the only
source of revenue?" Misty asked.
"No, actually – many of the
families and friends of the passengers have made donations ranging
anywhere from ten dollars to thousands of dollars. Our crowdfunding
campaign was enormously successful, raising over two million dollars
in the first forty-eight hours and it's still climbing. Meanwhile, we
have people working the phones and emails and even a letter writing
campaign to bring more awareness. We get a lot of nos, and that's
fine – but we keep going," I said.
"If anyone would like to donate
to the cause, information is already available on our website so
please check it out," Misty said, addressing the cameras
directly. "Lazuli, let's say you find Flight 627 next week, what
will the remaining funds be used for?"
"If there are survivors, the
funds will partially be used for their transition back into the real
world, they've been lost in a desert for three months presumably, it
will take time and a lot of care to return. Sixteen of the passengers
on board had children – we hope to set up scholarship funds for
each of them as well," I said, trying hard not to reach for my
own belly as I said it. "Honestly, there are many possibilites
but it will depend, entirely, on what's left when we do find Flight
627."
"When. When folks – not if,"
Misty stressed, getting another massive cheer from the audience.
"I don't intend to give up
Misty," I said with a faint smile. I gazed out on the audience,
all familiar faces, "and I don't think they will either."
"No, I don't think they will,"
Misty said. "Thank you Lazuli, for coming on the show today."
We shook hands and fake chatted for a moment as the camera faded to
commercial.
"You were
great ZuZu," Chambray said, giving me a light squeeze. "I
can't believe you announced your pregnancy on national TV!"
"Well it was
going to get more obvious soon enough," I said, stroking my
belly absently. I hadn't felt any movement yet, it was still early,
but I imagined them squirming around inside me.
"Okay, break
time is over – we should ALL get back to packing," Lotus
looked pointedly at Chambray and Cerulean – who had thus far
managed to avoid the hard work. "Except you Zuli," he
added, gently pushing me back down on the couch as I started to get
to my feet.
I intended to argue
but my phone started ringing then. As the others shuffled toward the
door, I glanced at the screen before answering it. "Hey "GiGi."
Dispensing with the pleasantries, her words came out in a rush but I
caught enough to catch their meaning. "Oh my sweet berry!"
I exclaimed, placing a hand on my head.
Lotus, who hadn't
made it out the door, immediately called Cobalt back in and rushed to
my side in a panic. "What is it? Are you alright?"
GiGi was jabbering
incessantly so I covered the mouth piece to address them. "Mirage
just just donated two million dollars," I whispered. "And
he, apparently, wants to arrange a celebrity gala for the families to
raise more money."
Cobalt's eyes grew
wide and Lotus fell back onto the coffee table, his mouth hanging
open. "Take the money," Cobalt said, obviously sensing my
desire to refuse any association with our father. "Take it Zuli
– you've already invested almost all of your inheritance into this,
when that's gone, all those little donations aren't gonna stretch
far."
I knew he was right
and after a long moment, I nodded. He sat down beside Lotus on the
coffee table and grabbed his hand. "GiGi, GiGi! Just tell his
people...." I gulped, hating what I was about to say, "tell
them to have him call me directly. He has my number," I said,
opening the door to invite him back into my life most unwillingly.
With his free hand,
Lotus took mine and gave it a firm, reassuring squeeze.
------
We were still a
couple blocks away when our limo pulled into the long queue of cars
leading to the venue for the gala and began the slow crawl toward the
front. As butterflies danced in my stomach, I reached out for Cobalt.
"I wonder if this is how mom felt?" I mused. Even with the
windows rolled up, I could hear the noise of screaming fans, no doubt
pressing against the velvet ropes that separated them from their
celebrity crush.
"Mom was a pro
at this," Cobalt pointed out. "Now Nepal... Nepal I imagine
felt like a fish outta water."
I giggled,
imagining Nepal climbing out of a limo only to be met with onslaught
of cameras and shouts. "He would have gone into protective mode
– never letting Mom out of his grasp."
A tap on the
driver's window made us both jump but with the screen partition up,
all we heard was a muffled exchange of words. After a minute, the
limo pulled out the queue and we were zipping past the rest of the
waiting cars. "Seems you get the VIP treatment ma'am," the
driver called as he lowered the partition.
One glance at
Cobalt and we both nodded, "Mirage," we muttered
simultaneously.
Attendants had
already held up the queue, leaving a gap for our limo to slide into
right in front of the venue. A deep red carpet ran between the velvet
ropes up to the entrance, lined on both sides by fans, photographers
and reporters. Through the tinted limo windows, I could see the shape
of a man jogging toward our car so when the door opened, I wasn't
surprised to find Mirage extending his hand for me. Before taking it,
I glanced back at Cobalt, "don't leave my side."
Although the crowd
cheered and photographers clamored for photos as our trio passed, I
knew it was primarily directed at Mirage. I didn't even begrudge him
as he posed with "his two kids" and soaked in the
attention. It had been two months since the talk show, two months
without any news, and we would need every penny earned from this gala
to continue the search – so I didn't argue when he put his hand
around my shoulders for the cameras. I didn't like it, but I didn't
argue.
Once inside, Mirage
disappeared to make the rounds and left Cobalt and I on our own.
"That was painful," I whispered. I clutched my brother's
arm as we made our way around the edge of the room, carefully
avoiding any clusters of people. A band played in the front corner of
the expansive ballroom and family photos of the passengers flashed
across a massive screen on the back wall. We'd made half a lap when I
saw a nervous group of a familiar faces and made a beeline for them.
A dozen or so
family members had clustered together, unsure of where to go or how
to act amongst the continuing flood of celebrities. There were
noticeable looks of relief as they recognized me though. "Oh
Zuli, this is all so crazy!" one said, claiming from free arm.
"How on earth...?"
"It wasn't
really my doing," I said. "Have you all found your tables?
Sandia, I think you're sitting at a table with Azure St Tropaz!"
She let out a squeal and soon the group followed me through the
tables until each had found their nameplate and discovered their
celebrity company. It was the only real part I'd played in planning
the event, making sure the tables were a mix of the families and the
celebrities coming. In order to keep myself busy, I made it my
mission to greet the families as they came in and set them at ease.
Eventually the trickle of guests slowed and I felt Cobalt's hand on
my arm, tugging me toward our own table at the front of the room –
naturally seated with Mirage.
As the band's music
reached a crescendo, Mirage took his place behind the microphone and
the room silence. "Welcome, welcome to tonight's gala event. I'd
like to thank everyone for coming and supporting this cause – which
is very personal to many of the people in this room. Please join me
in welcoming Lazuli Dust, without whom, none of this would have
happened."
With a slow breath
and a strained smile, I got to my feet. I allowed Mirage to kiss my
cheek as he ushered me forward and then took his place behind the
microphone. "Mirage gives me more credit than I'm due," I
said with chuckle. "He is right though – this is a very
personal cause and the fact that so many celebrities have come out to
support it is nothing short of amazing." As the audience
clapped, I took a second to catch my breath. "Ninety-eight
people, there were ninety-eight people on Flight 627. A drop in the
bucket in the grand scheme of things but those ninety-eight people
meant the world to the people in this room. They were fathers and
mothers, husbands and wives, friends and lovers – they are ordinary
people who we miss dearly," I felt my cheeks burn as the tears
welled up. To my right, Cobalt started to get to his feet but a held
up a hand. "I had a speech ready, all about the hard work and
the cost of running an ongoing search and rescue operation but, the
fact is, I've talked a lot about all that in the last five months.
What I haven't talked about is my connection to Flight 627. Most
people assume I knew someone on the crew because I was a SimAm flight
attendant but I know a passenger. His name is Lochnivar Viking and if
I don't find him, then my children will never know their father,"
I said, placing a hand on my baby bump. A collective gasp and
corresponding whisper rippled around the room for a long moment. "So
thank you for being here and supporting this very personal cause. If
you'll indulge me, I'd like to invite the other loved ones that are
here to share their own stories if they'd like."
Sandia, who was
usually quite shy, got to her feet immediately. She gave me a long
hug and then assumed my place while I returned to Cobalt's side. "You
did great," he whispered. Tears stung my eyes and slid down my
cheeks but I didn't try to swipe them away.
One by one, the
families told stories about the passengers of Flight 627. Somewhere,
a techie scrambled to display the correct pictures each time a new
person stepped up. This went on for over an hour but no one rushed
them, even as waiters waited in the wings with dinner. Looking around
the room, more than one person cried – especially when Akaroa
Creamsicle talked about her husband and their three year old
daughter, the youngest passenger on the flight.
As the last person
left the stage, Mirage nodded to the waiters and they rushed out,
eager to serve the first dish of dinner. Though I should be starving,
I pushed my salad around on the plate absently while Cobalt looked on
with concern. "You should eat ZuZu," he whispered. "The
night has only just begun." Though I nodded and took a bite to
appease him, the waiter whisked my mostly full salad plate away a few
minutes later.
He was right
though, the night had barely begun. The three course meal led into
mingling and some mild dancing. Every celebrity in the room seemed to
seek me out, offering a mix of congratulations and condolences. And
offering money. In exchange they wanted a few minutes of my time a
picture or two – it wasn't hard but it ate up all of my time that
evening. Every time I tried to disappear for a moment, someone was
calling my name or tapping my shoulder.
As such, when my
phone vibrated in my purse, I thanked the berry gods and excused
myself. I didn't care who was on the phone, just that they'd bought
me a few minutes to excuse myself. "Hello?" The signal was
patchy at best, I could barely make out the voice on the other end.
"Hello? I can't hear you!"
"Ms. Dust!"
Finally, the voice came through clearly – too clearly as he was
shouting in my ear. Even as every four or five words cut out, I could
piece together their meaning and I nearly dropped my phone as I
staggered backwards into Cobalt's arms.
I glanced back at
him, eyes wide, as the person on the other end continued to talk.
"I'll be on the next flight," I said, cutting him off.
"I'll have GiGi forward my flight information as soon as I know
it." With a snap, I hung up the phone and leaned heavily against
Cobalt. "I have to go, I need to go... can you get the limo. No
that'll probably take too long."
"Zuli what's
going on?" Cobalt asked, trying to draw my attention back as my
mind zipped in a million directions. "Zuli!"
I stared at him for
a long moment and then grinned. "They found something –
something real," I whispered, peering around him for any
snooping reporters.
Cobalt didn't
smile, in fact his face filled with concern. "Zuli, you're five
months pregnant with twins – you can't just fly off to berry knows
where. Let them investigate and get back to you."
I pulled away from
him, shaking my head quickly. "No, I have to go Cobalt – I
have to see for myself. As you said – I'm five months pregnant, not
nine. I can go flying off to berry knows where – and it's the
Bekmes Desert of course. I'll be fine Cobalt."
"Zuli, stop
and think for a minute. What if you get there and it is Flight 627
and everyone is..." he trailed off. "Let someone else
discover that – you wouldn't subject Sandia or Akaroa to that..."
I shook my head, "I
have to know Cobalt. Maybe you're right and that's what I'll find but
I have to be there. I can't explain it..." Without another word,
I turned away from him and started dialing GiGi's number. She picked
up on the second ring, sounding sleepy, "I need a seat on the
first flight out of Berrywood to Tuatara."
Cobalt snatched the
phone from my hands, "make that two seats GiGi, I'm going with
her."
End Chapter
No comments:
Post a Comment