On good days, Reka coaxes …show more content…
She turns away mouthing, “It is much too large.” And with that, she hobbles over to her wheelchair and sits with a thud.
The model vaa she had left unfinished sits on the workbench. Its partially carved hull leans against the hololamp and woodchips dangle from one side. She fastens the cuff around her slender wrist, calls up the Holoxica. It blinks awake and hovers over the workbench. She scrolls through a dictionary labeled 1891. With a wave of a finger, she stops at …show more content…
She grins, sets the Holoxica on record, and muses aloud, “Save for Marika: The ancients travel through space and time in a canoe, laughing their way up north.” The letters hang suspended in the air, and she waves them away with her breath. She grabs the chisel and begins her work on the ama, blowing at the sawdust caught in the creases of the porcelain wood. She reaches for a brush and lifts her head for Marika who is making her way up the stairs with a tray. Reka stares at her friend and at the creases forming around Marika’s eyes.
“It’s your mother,” Marika hesitates and with shaking hands, pushes the tray forward for Reka to see. In a jar, a single bee crawls up an escape route, but falls when it reaches the curve in the lip. Its glass belly, glowing with a golden substance, clinks against the side as it makes another attempt.
“Your mother - she needs a memory.” Reka’s wheelchair creaks and exaggerates the silence between the two. She makes her way to the bed, and adjusts the pillows, careful to smooth out the wrinkles. Marika hovers about, fussing with the covers and then the Holoxica. “I’ll be fine, Sweet Marika. I won’t be