To Make The Moment Right
09 Jun 2018Cee Klover
If there was one thing Cecelia Klover prided herself on, it was her punctuality. Her school teachers had showered her with praise for her impeccable attendance record. Her various employers had invariably given her glowing references for her timekeeping. Even her probation officer at Thrutis had complimented her on arriving promptly for her community service sessions. Yes, punctuality was very important to Cee Klover, and she abhorred the idea of being late, even by so much as a moment.Arriving at The Olive Grove in good time for the start of her shift, Cee made her way from the staff entrance to the reception area.
“Hey, Sooks,” she said, addressing the demure figure of Suki Hai. “The boss in?”
Suki looked up from her podium and smiled. “Hai, Cee san” she answered. “Miss Jemine is in her office.”
“Great. Listen, could you do me a favor and give her a buzz for me? I need a quick word, only I don’t wanna go disturbin’ her if she’s busy with somethin’.”
Nodding, Suki tapped the display panel on her podium and a few moments later began to speak. Cee listened to the brief one-sided conversation, aware that Suki would be hearing the voice of Jemine Caesar courtesy of the audibud nestling in her right ear. Presently Suki tapped the podium again, and advised Cee that Miss Jemine would be happy to see her now.
With a wink and a grin of thanks, Cee left the reception area and walked back along the central corridor. She lingered briefly at the door of her employer’s private office, then pressed the buzzer to announce her arrival. After a few moments the door slid open and Cee stepped inside. She’d expected to find Jemine sitting at her desk, but the large cream-coloured swivel chair was conspicuously empty, and slowly rotating to a halt. Of Jemine herself, there was no sign. The connecting door to her personal bedchamber was open, however.
“Take a seat,” called out Jemine’s voice through the open doorway. “Make yourself comfortable. I shan’t be more than a moment.”
“Sure, Jem,” she called back. “No sweat. Take your time.”
Cee glanced at the now-still swivel chair. She’d sat in it plenty while Jemine was away on her recent month-long trip. Jemine had left The Olive Grove in the general care of her boyfriend Sam, but had entrusted its actual running to Cee and Suki. The two women had worked well together, spending a considerable amount of time in their employer’s office, dealing with the ins and outs of running a popular pleasure house. Oh, there had been a few heated words with Sam at first. He’d felt obliged to stamp his authority in Jemine’s absence, what with him being her boyfriend and having experience of the bar trade through his own family’s business. Once Cee had convinced him that she knew her stuff too, and knew it well, things had settled down considerably.
It had been three weeks since Jemine’s return to Citi Gateway, appearing far better than when she’d left a month before. She had spoken next to nothing of where she‘d been or why, but Cee had reasoned it had to have been health-related. Treatment for some illness, perhaps. Jemine had been unwell for some while prior to leaving, complaining more and more of blinding headaches and bouts of nausea. She’d arrived back refreshed and reinvigorated, though her hair was now very short. Jemine had been delighted to be home again, yet Cee had been certain there was more than a trace of sadness behind the smile.
Cee looked up at the holo-picture window which dominated the bulkhead behind the desk. A breathtakingly realistic rendition of green fields, swaying trees and distant, snow-capped mountains. Jemine had once explained it was a view of a particular location on her home planet, in LHS 3447; the place where she’d given birth. Cee stared at the image for fully half a minute, watching the leaves on the trees fluttering in the breeze. She sighed deeply, then blinked in surprise at a fleeting feeling of homesickness for her own home world in Thrutis.
A glow on the desktop caught her attention. Cee looked down at the glow, and saw that it was another holo-image. An image of a man; rakishly handsome, dark hair, appearing in his mid- to late-thirties, a slightly sardonic half-grin on his face. The flight jacket he was wearing marked him out as a pilot, and the Elite wings badge on the jacket’s erect collar suggested he was a good one.
A sudden sound from the connecting door sent her stepping smartly away from the desk. It wouldn’t do to be caught checking out her employer’s personal stuff, even if it had been left in plain view. She busied herself looking intently at the newsfeed on the large wall-mounted screen, and saw that it was yet another story about a series of murders committed by a terrorist group.
“Sorry about that,” came Jemine’s slightly breathless voice behind her. Cee turned and watched Jemine take her seat.
“No problem,” Cee replied. She saw Jemine’s eyes dart down to the image of the man, only to dismiss it with a quick flick of her finger. Cee moved back towards the desk.
“I just thought I oughta remind you about June tenth,” she said.
Jemine looked puzzled. “June the tenth? That’s the day after tomorrow. What about it?”
“It’s Fynn’s birthday,” Cee explained. “You remember when I signed on here? How I said I don’t work on my son’s birthday?”
“Yes, of course,” said Jemine, nodding. “I remember. Anything special planned?”
“Oh, same old. You know how it is. A few bars, a few beers, a casino, maybe a couple hookers. Might even score some oh-head for the little guy, if he’s real good to his lovin’ mom.”
Jemine raised an eyebrow. “Sorry? I don’t... I thought your son was only—”
“I’m kiddin’,” Cee said, holding up her hands in a show of contrition. “He’s eight.” She grinned at her bemused employer. “Still, one of these days, huh?”
“Absolutely,” said Jemine. “They grow so fast. Well, be sure to give Fynn my best wishes, won’t you?”
“Sure. I’ll do that.”
*****
Cee arrived at the Citi Gateway docks in good time to catch her flight. She’d booked passage on the Arabella Miller, an Asp Explorer piloted by a commander named Kevin Knox. The passenger cabin accommodations he offered were basic but comfortable, and the thirty-two light-year trip to Thrutis was brief and uneventful, for which Cee was very grateful. She didn’t want to be late for her son’s birthday, and was anxious to spend every minute of it with him.
The Arabella Miller arrived at Kingsbury Dock a little over two hours before midnight. After disembarking, Cee killed some time sitting in a mall cafe on the fringe of the Entertainment District. Cradling a cup of macchiato, she watched people passing by on their way to wherever it was they were going, all the while keeping an eye on the time displayed by the newsfeed screens overhead.
As midnight approached, Cee settled her bill and left the cafe. It was just a short stroll to where Fynn would be waiting. Even though she was in no danger of being late, Cee walked at a brisk pace, arriving at her destination with fifteen minutes to spare.
The brown-haired woman at the reception desk greeted Cee with a professional smile. The badge on her white tunic gave her name as Harley. Cee glanced at the clock above the reception desk and cleared her throat.
“My name’s Cecelia Klover,” she said. “I’m here to see my son, Fynn Klover.”
Harley consulted the details of Cee’s appointment on her desktop display.
“Ah, yes. Mizz C Klover. To see Fynn Klover. Room 202. You’ll need this.”
Harley handed Cee a transparent clip-on ID holder, inside which was a bright blue badge with the word ‘VISITOR’ printed in large letters. Attaching the badge to her jacket, Cee thanked Harley and made her way to Room 202 as directed. She took a deep breath, then opened the door and went in.
Room 202 was dimly lit. There was no real need for proper lighting, since its sole occupant had no use for it in his present condition. He lay in the bed, his eyes closed. He was motionless, unheeding, silent except for soft, slow breathing. A device was attached to his temples, and a tube entered one of his arms. Cee glanced at the machine beside her son’s bed, the machine that constantly monitored his life signs for any change in his condition. A condition that had been unchanged for four years, and was unlikely to change anytime soon.
Cee quietly drew up a chair and sat down by the bedside. She reached out and patted her son’s unresponsive hand.
“Hey, Fynn,” she said, her voice a whisper. It seemed right to whisper, somehow. “It’s mom.”
I know you can’t hear me. I know you’re not even aware that I’m here at all. You’re too deep inside your head. That’s what the medics tell me, anyway. Maybe it’s true, and then again maybe it isn’t. Maybe you can hear me, and maybe you’re yelling at me to go, to get the hell out of here and never come back. And I couldn’t blame you if you were.
A mother is supposed to look after her children. To keep them from harm, to pick them up when they fall and brush away the tears and tell them it’ll be okay. And I tried, Fynn. I tried so hard.
I've always prided myself on my punctuality, Fynn. Except for that one moment, I've never been late for anything in my life. School, dates, interviews... But I'd trade them all to make that one moment right.
One moment. That’s all it took. One lousy moment. Never a single day goes by that I don’t think about it. In that moment everything changed, for the both of us. I looked away from you for one moment, thinking you were safe. But you weren’t, because when I looked back again, you were already falling. I screamed your name at the top of my voice, horrified at what I’d done. I reached out to save you, to stop you from falling...
But I was too late.
“Happy birthday, honey. I love you.”