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random_xtras) wrote in
random_nanorimo_stuff2012-10-25 06:35 pm
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Sylvia Chapter 22
"No, no. This isn't right either, Kaneesha." The mechadrone tutor shook her head patiently. "But don't worry. We'll try a different colour filter in your corrective lenses, and maybe it will help you with your reading comprehension."
Kaneesha Jones stopped grumbling at herself and looked sadly toward the tutor. "I don't think anything can help me, Miss Smith. I'm wired wrong."
"Maybe if I sat with you and read you the questions, then wrote the answers down for you. It's perfectly normal for some people to be more verbal than visual in their learning." The tutor smiled at the plainly dressed young dock loader warmly. Then her expression went to quizzical as she looked toward the far end of the room, where someone had just tapped on the door. "...Come in?"
Neither the tutor nor her fifteen year old master had seen the tall girl who stepped through that door before. She was strongly built and of feminine figure, and a pale golden braid, nearly bleached white by the sun, lay on the breast of her soft blue, embroidered blouse. Eyes of nearly the same colour as the blouse looked from the tutor to the student. Her entire appearance was quite old fashioned. Kaneesha liked her without knowing why, but she wondered who she was.
"May we help you?" asked the tutor, tilting her head quizzically.
"I just came to see if Kaneesha needed any help," replied the girl in a voice that sounded like the childish echo of the alto it would become.
"I..." Kaneesha sank down in her chair, feeling embarrassed that anyone other than her tutor should find out just how bad she was at her schoolwork. "Who are you?"
"You mean you don't recognize me?" The girl looked at her hands, and then down at her blouse. "I used the computer program to age the latest picture of me that Grandfather and Oma had... I guess the image has changed a lot."
Kaneesha frowned with confusion, but then looked down at the girl's feet and gasped as she saw a pair of blue crochet shoes. "Sylvia???"
"Yes." The blonde nodded. "I thought I should finally come see my new sister... if it's alright."
"But..." Kaneesha put her head in her hands. "I thought you were dead. You... It was so bad."
"Part of me died," admitted Sylvia. "And the rest of me sort of just found my way back a few days ago. But no. I'm not dead. Just different."
"You... you're a native, right?" asked Kaneesha hesitantly, moving her hands from the sides of her head to her eyes as she remembered that awful day again.
"I was a hybrid. But yes, now I'm just native. This body's small enough to look human if I want to." Sylvia lifted her eyebrows slightly. "So... Is it okay if I help you? Grandfather said that he didn't think you were doing as well as you wanted to on your lessons."
"I'm sorry." The words were a whisper.
Blue eyes blinked with confusion as the thought processes behind them were derailed. "Pardon?"
"I said I'm sorry. For being so mean to you. I... I didn't know. I thought you were being mean to me," said Kaneesha, her shoulders drooping. "But not knowing better doesn't make what I did right. Life's important, and my being stupid nearly took yours away from you."
Sylvia blinked again, then wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her blouse before wondering what the clear oil would do to the cotton. "Oops. Oh bother."
Kaneesha looked up with surprise, wondering what the other girl was talking about, then saw her looking at the dark stains on the blue cloth. "...Tears?"
"Yes." Sylvia sighed. "I can't have spoiled this blouse yet. Esther just gave it to me."
"Is it cotton?" Kaneesha forgot her sadness and worry in the face of something she knew she could fix.
"Yes. The thread in the embroidered flowers is too. I wiped my eyes on it."
"Oh. It's alright, then. The usual cleaning compound will take the oil out. And here." Kaneesha snagged a tissue from the dispenser on the corner of her desk and pressed it to the spot. "This might even get most of it out."
Then she realized what she was doing and flinched.
Sylvia sighed. "Kaneesha, you're my sister now, because Grandfather has custody of you. Will you be my friend, too?"
Kaneesha paled and sat back in her chair.
"Are you sure you want to be mine?" she asked quietly. "I'm slightly crazy."
"So are some of Grandfather's friends, and I like them." Sylvia smiled, the expression cheerful but a little rueful. "And even some of the rest of my family seems to make Grandfather facepalm or pinch the bridge of his nose pretty regularly. Don't worry about it, okay? Maybe you can even come to school with my other friends. There's Bible study in a little over an hour."
"What's that?" Kaneesha absently put a hand on her computer pad, her gaze uncertain but interested.
"We learn about the Bible, which is the oldest book from Earth. It tells about where people came from, and about God. It's pretty fascinating."
"I can't read." Kaneesha sighed. "I've got dyslexia."
"That's alright. We read out loud anyway. And there aren't any tests, though the teacher asks us to write reports sometimes. We read those out loud to the others, so you could probably just do an oral report."
"You really think your friends would want me around?"
"Sure, if you can stand being around blue-eyed people. Esther's got copper coloured hair, too." Sylvia watched her closely.
Kaneesha looked almost angry as she shook her head. "Colour doesn't matter, unless you're out in the sun and your skin is pale. Then being pale's really bad. One of the other people that works in Small Loading's from a world with constant cloud cover, and just the little bit of UV in our light tracks made his skin turn red."
Sylvia winced and rubbed her arms in their sleeves. "Wow. I'm glad I don't have to worry about that if I ever go to a world with a UV sun."
"He said it hurt," said Kaneesha soberly, her eyes going to her computer pad.
"I believe it." Sylvia nudged the pad gently, her expression hopeful. "So... do you want to come?"
"Okay. Can I bring Miss Smith?"
"Sure. But I have to warn you." Sylvia laughed softly as she turned toward the door. "Esther and Hannah are going to want make both of you some prettier clothes."
END
(all characters and text copyrighted to Tammy Elaine Mahan. No copying in any way whatsoever without written permission of the author, except for brief quotes for review purposes.)
Kaneesha Jones stopped grumbling at herself and looked sadly toward the tutor. "I don't think anything can help me, Miss Smith. I'm wired wrong."
"Maybe if I sat with you and read you the questions, then wrote the answers down for you. It's perfectly normal for some people to be more verbal than visual in their learning." The tutor smiled at the plainly dressed young dock loader warmly. Then her expression went to quizzical as she looked toward the far end of the room, where someone had just tapped on the door. "...Come in?"
Neither the tutor nor her fifteen year old master had seen the tall girl who stepped through that door before. She was strongly built and of feminine figure, and a pale golden braid, nearly bleached white by the sun, lay on the breast of her soft blue, embroidered blouse. Eyes of nearly the same colour as the blouse looked from the tutor to the student. Her entire appearance was quite old fashioned. Kaneesha liked her without knowing why, but she wondered who she was.
"May we help you?" asked the tutor, tilting her head quizzically.
"I just came to see if Kaneesha needed any help," replied the girl in a voice that sounded like the childish echo of the alto it would become.
"I..." Kaneesha sank down in her chair, feeling embarrassed that anyone other than her tutor should find out just how bad she was at her schoolwork. "Who are you?"
"You mean you don't recognize me?" The girl looked at her hands, and then down at her blouse. "I used the computer program to age the latest picture of me that Grandfather and Oma had... I guess the image has changed a lot."
Kaneesha frowned with confusion, but then looked down at the girl's feet and gasped as she saw a pair of blue crochet shoes. "Sylvia???"
"Yes." The blonde nodded. "I thought I should finally come see my new sister... if it's alright."
"But..." Kaneesha put her head in her hands. "I thought you were dead. You... It was so bad."
"Part of me died," admitted Sylvia. "And the rest of me sort of just found my way back a few days ago. But no. I'm not dead. Just different."
"You... you're a native, right?" asked Kaneesha hesitantly, moving her hands from the sides of her head to her eyes as she remembered that awful day again.
"I was a hybrid. But yes, now I'm just native. This body's small enough to look human if I want to." Sylvia lifted her eyebrows slightly. "So... Is it okay if I help you? Grandfather said that he didn't think you were doing as well as you wanted to on your lessons."
"I'm sorry." The words were a whisper.
Blue eyes blinked with confusion as the thought processes behind them were derailed. "Pardon?"
"I said I'm sorry. For being so mean to you. I... I didn't know. I thought you were being mean to me," said Kaneesha, her shoulders drooping. "But not knowing better doesn't make what I did right. Life's important, and my being stupid nearly took yours away from you."
Sylvia blinked again, then wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her blouse before wondering what the clear oil would do to the cotton. "Oops. Oh bother."
Kaneesha looked up with surprise, wondering what the other girl was talking about, then saw her looking at the dark stains on the blue cloth. "...Tears?"
"Yes." Sylvia sighed. "I can't have spoiled this blouse yet. Esther just gave it to me."
"Is it cotton?" Kaneesha forgot her sadness and worry in the face of something she knew she could fix.
"Yes. The thread in the embroidered flowers is too. I wiped my eyes on it."
"Oh. It's alright, then. The usual cleaning compound will take the oil out. And here." Kaneesha snagged a tissue from the dispenser on the corner of her desk and pressed it to the spot. "This might even get most of it out."
Then she realized what she was doing and flinched.
Sylvia sighed. "Kaneesha, you're my sister now, because Grandfather has custody of you. Will you be my friend, too?"
Kaneesha paled and sat back in her chair.
"Are you sure you want to be mine?" she asked quietly. "I'm slightly crazy."
"So are some of Grandfather's friends, and I like them." Sylvia smiled, the expression cheerful but a little rueful. "And even some of the rest of my family seems to make Grandfather facepalm or pinch the bridge of his nose pretty regularly. Don't worry about it, okay? Maybe you can even come to school with my other friends. There's Bible study in a little over an hour."
"What's that?" Kaneesha absently put a hand on her computer pad, her gaze uncertain but interested.
"We learn about the Bible, which is the oldest book from Earth. It tells about where people came from, and about God. It's pretty fascinating."
"I can't read." Kaneesha sighed. "I've got dyslexia."
"That's alright. We read out loud anyway. And there aren't any tests, though the teacher asks us to write reports sometimes. We read those out loud to the others, so you could probably just do an oral report."
"You really think your friends would want me around?"
"Sure, if you can stand being around blue-eyed people. Esther's got copper coloured hair, too." Sylvia watched her closely.
Kaneesha looked almost angry as she shook her head. "Colour doesn't matter, unless you're out in the sun and your skin is pale. Then being pale's really bad. One of the other people that works in Small Loading's from a world with constant cloud cover, and just the little bit of UV in our light tracks made his skin turn red."
Sylvia winced and rubbed her arms in their sleeves. "Wow. I'm glad I don't have to worry about that if I ever go to a world with a UV sun."
"He said it hurt," said Kaneesha soberly, her eyes going to her computer pad.
"I believe it." Sylvia nudged the pad gently, her expression hopeful. "So... do you want to come?"
"Okay. Can I bring Miss Smith?"
"Sure. But I have to warn you." Sylvia laughed softly as she turned toward the door. "Esther and Hannah are going to want make both of you some prettier clothes."
(all characters and text copyrighted to Tammy Elaine Mahan. No copying in any way whatsoever without written permission of the author, except for brief quotes for review purposes.)