Dad Stands Firm, Bytes Makes Himself Heard.

Dear Toby,

Stars on the water! Where do I even start? This has been a totally mad time, I've had so much going on! I've had to cope with all kinds of conflicting feelings, events overtaking me so fast that I didn't know whether I was on my head or my feet! As well as the family things I've had my humans to look after, not forgetting the day babies, my work to do, a holiday to go on, and, and, oh well, you'll see.

Well, to refresh my blurry mind I just went back and looked and it was a week last Tuesday when I wrote to you telling about my Dad having a thorn of the low country in his stomach. Bytes had something on his mind, but I didn't have the energy to find out what it was.

Well, the rest of that week I got through somehow. I worked. Thank the stars there's always loads to do around here these days. I helped the guys from FarHome with the upkeep on the new arrival's habitat, when I couldn't find anything else to do. It was all ready for her, we were just waiting for her to be ready for it. My stars, Tobes, if you could only see the huge trees, the canopy of brilliantly colored leaves, the amazing flowers, the arteficial waterfall they've made, it's really amazing in there. You have to go in through a kind of airlock thing, so that the temperature doesn't drop when the door opens or the plants will suffer. One particular tree has a hammock in it where the new arrival will sleep, and all kinds of platforms and places in the branches where she can sit. There are those in other trees too, but there are the most in her home tree, that's what they call it.

Bytes was being very strange. He was still trying to get my attention, but I just didn't want to be bothered with him, that is the brutal truth of it. By about Thursday he had got into such a temper with me that he buzzed off to Aiden's and didn't come home at night. I hardly noticed. I had other things on my mind, when I wasn't working.

I had made contact with the healing gardens, told them about Dad, found out exactly what they could do for him and how much it would cost. Ouch! It was going to be a very expensive trip to High Country's gate, if he chose to travel that way, but that wasn't a consideration. His final months, weeks, whatever he had left would be made much less painful if he spent them in that peaceful place with Mum by his side. Kori and Gwen had told us it wouldn't be longer than a few months at most. Oh, Toby, my little one. Sometimes my heart breaks that I'll never see you grow up, never know the leprechaun you would have become, that you will always be this downy-headed, big-eyed youngling. And then at times like I went through then I am glad you will never know grief, pain, heartbreak, loss. There is so much that you will miss, but there is so much that you will be spared.

Anyway, where was I? We somehow got to Sunday, and I went home with my heart weighing like a stone. Mum said she didn't want a lot of fuss when we talked to Dad. She just wanted Gwenice and me there. Cassie was playing in the alleys and I gave her a huge hug. She clung on like a limpet, I drew strength from her.

I was shocked when I saw Dad. He'd lost ground, even since I'd seen him last. He'd lost more weight, he looked gaunt, his colour was awful and his eyes looked, well, haunted. I made a fair stab at greeting him as usual, even though he was in the swing bed and not in his chair. Mum gave me a cup of tea and I climbed up to my usual place. Gwen was already waiting for me. We all looked at each other.

"All right." That was Dad, his voice sounding rough as sandpaper. "So let's get this over. You free are all sittin' there wiv faces like slapped bums an' you fink I don't know why? Stars an' moon, jest 'ow zlanny stupid do you fink I am? I'm for the 'igh country. I known that for a while. I dunno what's up, I ain't a 'ealer like you, our Gwenny, but if I 'ad to guess I'd a' said it was a forn. One o' them forn fings, I seen 'em afore an' they always ends in 'igh country's gate.

We all just gaped. I wonder if Gwen had ever heard our Dad speak as many words as that ever. I had, but then my circumstances were a bit unusual. Dad never says much, Tobes, he's a gruff one, a real lep's lep, he's the archetypal undemonstrative, unemotional, never show your feelings, never put it into words lep. How in the stars he ever came to zaan me is anyone's guess! We're about as unalike as any two leps can be. But here's the thing, Tobe, he doesn't say it, but I've had reason to know he thinks it. He feels it. Do you know what I think? I think there are more leps than we know about who could be like that. They keep it all locked behind that stone wall custom makes them put up, and sometimes it just festers, that's why we get such bad apples sometimes, like Tulia and Barty, and that awful Milo! Anyway, I'd better get back to my story.

There was a stunned silence, and then Mum, characteristically, burst into a flood of weeping, and I had trouble holding myself in, let me tell you.

"Oh for stars' sake, Lil," that was Dad again, very weary. The swing bed had been lowered down, to make nursing Dad easier, and Mum had sort of flung herself across it. Suddenly, very slowly, Dad put his hand out and stroked Mum's hair. I was, well, to say astounded would have been an understatement. Leps don't do that, display affection in front of anyone else, not ever ever! Oh I've seen it happen, but not in leps like my Dad. Now, there he was, stroking Mum's hair as tenderly as if she was one of his young Grandlings who'd hurt itself.

"Come on, girl," he said, "I know. yeah, I really do. We'll 'ave time to talk later, quiet like, but this ain't the time. Come on now, give over, that ain't goin' to Elp nuffin, an' it's makin' everyfing that much 'arder for the lings." He wasn't wrong there. To see my gruff old Dad, being so, well, so gentle, so understanding, so loving, yes, loving. I could understand for the first time the depth of feeling there must be between my parents. I couldn't help it, my own tears started, but silently. I turned away from the bed so Dad wouldn't see.

"Our Bert, don't you dare!" that was Dad again! "look, see that black jar on the 'igh shelf. There's some of me old apple brandy in it. I reckon you could all do wiv a tot. Nice big 'uns mind. Then let's sit down an' you can 'ave your say, an' I'll 'ave mine."

I climbed up to the high shelf, found the jar and some little tin things a bit like human shot glasses but our size, and poured good tots of the clear liquid which smelled like distilled Autumn. I offered one to Dad but he shook his head with a grimmace. When we were all settled in chairs near the bed, Mum, who was still choking into her apron, nodded to Gwenice to begin.

"You have it right, Dad," she said. "You do have a thorn from the low country in your stomach, I'm pretty sure. There may be others, we don't really know, you can never tell with those terrible things, but all the signs are there. It's ..." she stopped, gulped. "It's nearly over, Dad. A few months maybe. With the way you're going at the moment, more likely a few weeks. What we want to know is, what do you want to do?"

"I've been in contact with the healing gardens," that was me. "They were very good. They see a lot of leps with thorns in one place or another. They can use a mixture of the helping hand and herbal healing to control the pain. Mum can go with you, and anyone else you want. You'll have no pain, beautiful surroundings, peace..."

"Save your breaf, our Bert." That was Dad sounding more like the Dad I knew. "I ain't goin' an' I bet you knew I wouldn't."

"We knew you'd be stubborn about it, you old zlurg!" that was Mum, emerging red-eyed from her apron. "But Alfie, at least fink about it can't ya?"

"I fought." Dad was final. "I ain't being stubborn, our Lil. Bert, fanks for findin' out about it, son. Only I grew up in this colony. me an' your Mum was bofe lings 'ere, we played in the alleys, foraged wiv the foragin' parties, salvaged to make it better. We set up this cube an' made it the best we could, we raised our family right 'ere. If I got to leave for 'igh country, then the last fings I wanna see is the fings I've always seen, I wanna 'ear the noises outside the curtain I've always 'eard. I wanna look out that cube entrance from me own bed, like I done a 'undred times, to see what's 'appenin' outside, only this time I'll see 'igh country's gate waitin' for me to walk froo."

He looked towards the entrance then, Tobe, where the curtain was looped up, the same way it always was except at night, and his expression became faraway, as if he didn't see the workaday comings and goings of the thoroughfare outside. For a minute I was terrified he was leaving us right there and then, but he wasn't. He sighed, shut his eyes and fell asleep.

"Well, that's that, and there's no more to be said." that was Gwen. She got down from her chair and headed quietly for the entrance. "You know where I am, Mum, if he needs me. I'll come any time, night or day."

When she had left, Mum and I sat quiet, sipping our apple brandy, which was wonderfully warming, and watching Dad's face. "He may change his mind, Mum," I said. "The healers say he can at any time."

Mum almost laughed.

"You should know your Dad better'n that, our Bert! No. 'e's made up 'is mind. I know what them forns can do, I seen 'em afore meself. But your Dad wants to leave from 'ere, so 'ere's where 'e'll leave from. You can bet money on it, son. Go on now, do you mind? 'e needs to be quiet. And, Bert, Stars bless you for everyfing."

I set down my unfinished tot, gave Mum a quick, fierce hug and bolted. I zapped straight home from where I was. I couldn't bear to have Mum thank me, thank me for what? For absolutely zlanny nothing!

My stars! I don't remember too much about the next few hours. I know people who used to read my online journal thought I was a terrible cry baby, but I've always been glad I have had the outlet of tears, or I don't quite know what I'd have done. So anyway, I needn't tell you how I spent the next period of time when I landed, in a very untidy heap, on the floor, back in my closet. Brian and L were busy with Lacey's video, they weren't expecting me and I took great care to make no noise. I wanted to be left strictly alone.

Well, the next thing I was really aware of was a kind of soft, purring, chirping sound and a pair of long, thin arms winding all around me. Oh Bytes! I thought fuzzily. Thank the stars for Bytes! I cuddled him up and he made contended sounds. I think I must have fallen asleep, because when I woke up it was dark. Bytes was washing my face and making sounds which meant: "I wouldn't mind a bite to eat, when you have a minute."

I scraped myself up off the carpet and handed him my iPad. he pounced on it, shimmered, and the next minute there was his picture on the screen. Then his loopy, childish writing was scrawling across below his tiny picture.

"Bytes want talk Bert. Bytes try and try!!!!! Why Bert no listen bytes?"

"I'm sorry, Bytes," I said, really meaning it. Whatever I was going through, I had been neglecting my best friend. "Bert has had troubles but he should have let Bytes talk. What does Bytes want to say?"

The writing began to scrawl across the screen slowly. I looked at the message, and my jaw dropped.

"Bert's Da sick. maybe Bytes think him better?"

I thought, as I stared at the purple face on the screen. Bytes could make things happen by thinking about them. He had thought new generators for our colony. He had thought and done all kinds of thinks for our family, even from the phone when it was no longer safe for him to enter the colony. But could he really do this? Could he think away the thorns from my Dad's stomach?

"Could Bytes really do this?" It was almost a whisper.

The writing was slow and hesitant.

"Bytes not know. Not on phone think too big. We go Bert home Bytes try."

"Bert can't take Bytes back there!" my heart sank. "They'd catch Bytes."

I remembered the greedy look in the eyes of so many of the leps when they looked at Bytes, the last time he had been in the colony. I remembered Tulia's threat that Milo was gunning for me and that purple abomination. They could get the crack soldiers to take Bytes by force, put him in a cage, make him into the colony's slave. I wouldn't be able to do a thing.

Bytes was writing again.

"Bytes think Bert Da better they not catch Bytes." He shimmered out of the iPad again and bounced on the bed, humming and chirrupping.

"Not so fast, furball!" I said. "If you really think you could do this, we're not going now this minute." Bytes made cranky sounds but I was firm. "No, it's going to take planning or they'll catch Bytes. Let Bert do some thinking and then some grownup talking. We'll go tomorrow."

I know, I know, Tobe, I know you want to hear more, but I've taken ages to write this much, and it's time for me to go and get the day babies fed, changed and ready to leave. I'll go on with the story as soon as ever I can, I promise, big eyes. Now don't pull those faces, the wind will change and you'll be stuck like it. I love you.

Love always.

Zan. (Dad.)