magic

Chapter 8 - MAYA’S QUESTIONThat night at the hotel, Maya asked:

“Why were they making us move?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Because Daddy walks slow?”

My stomach tightened.

“Why do you think that?”

“The man looked at your stick.”

Cane.

But stick was fine.

“He did look at it.”

“Is first class for people who walk fast?”

“No.”

“Is it for rich people?”

“Usually more expensive.”

“Are we rich?”

“No.”

“Then why were we there?”

Because your dead mother spent points and money we should probably have saved because she wanted one comfortable flight before scattering part of her ashes.

I said:

“Because we had tickets.”

Maya nodded.

The cleanest answer.

Then:

“So tickets mean you belong?”

May you like

“Yes.”

I wished adulthood worked that simply.

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