“So…then. What do we do?” Bunnu asked.
The Outlander snickered, “My boy, you’ve been at this day and night. O. too! The both of you are missing out on your lives.”
“Well…what do you expect us to do? We can’t just pretend that none of this is happening.”
“You’re right there. None of us can. But this is a grown-up matter. Let the grown-ups handle it!” He giggled, “You should be out there playing. If I hadn’t already withdrawn from the outside world, I might be able to join you, but I guess there’s no turning back once you’ve done it.” He shrugged his shoulders as he laughed hysterically.
Bunnu remained silent.
“Are you OK? You look a little down,” the Outlander said with a hint of concern.
Bunnu hesitated for a moment before sighing, “Motiwala’s going away. To some special school out in Bela.”
“Well…that’ll be good for him, I imagine. But I suppose you’ll miss him, right? The two of you are very close, yes?”
“It’s not that! It’s just that everyone’s life is going somewhere…and-“
“And yours isn’t…” the Outlander said, solemnly scratching his chin. “I see what you’re saying…” He smiled. “You don’t want to be just a kid anymore. And I suppose the last thing you need is some old wart like me telling you not to get involved in grown-up matters. I understand your impatience, my boy. I do…but, out of curiosity, just what do you think it is that’s out there waiting for you?”
“I don’t know. But I feel like I’m the only one without something from the outside world to hold on to. You and Coronado always have these great stories about what lies out there in the world. But it’s not just you. It’s everyone! My parents: they have Vasalla. Motiwala: he’ll have Bela. And O.: well…I don’t know where he comes from, exactly, but it certainly isn’t here!”
“And now you have your quarter-sister from Vasalla…” Rakesh-7 continued.
“Who?”
“The girl! You met her, right? Didi?”
The boy’s head tilted. He looked confused.
“Nevermind…Bunnu, what you’re feeling is common in the children of immigrants. That feeling of missing out on something that you just know is a part of you. That insatiable urge to go out and discover it. My boy, you are not the only one who feels this way. Either way, you have your own fate to fulfill. As do I, as does this Coronado character. As do your parents, O., and your quarter-sister. We each have our paths. And for you, it may not start right away, but your life will surely begin…and much sooner than you think.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
“Right! Of course you do! You’ve done my horoscope!”
“Well…yes, but…” the Outlander hesitated.
“Tell me about my future! Where am I going to be? When do I finally get to leave this place?”
“Yes…well,” Rakesh-7 shifted in his chair uncomfortably, “it’s an imperfect science, so I don’t want you complaining later that I misled you or influenced you in any way. I’ve had enough complaints from your parents about self-fulfilling prophecies.”
“Am I going to be a ship captain like Coronado?”
Rakesh-7 giggled. “You really are too much. Now listen! I can’t go into details, because…well, there’s just too much information to filter through. I can, however, say this: you shall have many, many experiences in this life. Too many to explain simply. Too many to say which will prove to be good and which will prove to be bad. Too many to know which are significant and which are insignificant. But I can say with a fair bit of certainty that you, dear Bunnu, will grow and grow and keep growing until you get so big the world can’t even contain you anymore.”
“Wow…”
“But there will be times in which things appear hopeless. You will begin to doubt everything around you. You will even begin to doubt yourself. You will think things will never look up and you may be in the deepest, darkest, loneliest place in the world. Everything which had once been infused with wonder may appear disappointing and harsh. You may grow cynical and come to believe that this is simply the way the world is…that one must bear with the unforgiving realities of the world and only hope that it doesn’t get worse. You might grow suspicious of others, as adults tend to do, and close yourself off from the rest of the world. You might just look to the past and reminisce about better days…or you might just dwell in one place for a little too long and become nostalgic for the future. Just remember—regardless of where you are, what experiences you have, and who you have become—that there will always be those who have loved you. Those whom you may have taken for granted, but have nonetheless, always had you in their hearts and in their hopes and wishes. Lives that you have touched: whether you realize it or not. To separation you may venture, but indissolubly in union shall you drift. You take them with you wherever you go. And they take you with them. This, however, may not always be a source of comfort for you.”
“I don’t understand…”
“Of course not.”
“But I want to know details. At least tell me something…”
“My boy, you will always be at the whims of forces, both great and small, and far beyond your capacity to control. That’s how all our stories go. Innumerable arcs intersect and scatter into a vast indefinite sea. So, let’s not speak of certainties. Are you familiar with the Algorithmist painter Carlotta Wakefield? I imagine not. She once said, ‘Mediocre painters portray that which they understand. Fabulous painters: that which they surmise.’ You get the meaning?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe…”
“Good answer.”
“Huh?”
Rakesh-7 erupted into an ear-splitting cackle. “But enough about the future! You’ve got plenty of time. Plenty of time to sit here with your old Uncle Rakesh-7 and talk about all the possibilities. Speaking of which: it’s been quite some time since I’ve told you a story, hasn’t it?”
“Yes…but where’s O.? Maybe he’d like to listen, as well.”
“Your father took him downstairs. I think he’s meeting your new sister…”
“Who?”
“I said he’s-“
“OK…” Bunnu shrugged. “We can start without him. Tell me a good one!”
“Right…” the Outlander tapped his chin. “Well…have I ever told you about the Mole Flies?”
“Mole Flies…?”
“I guess I haven’t then,” Rakesh-7 said with a smile. He tapped his chin, “OK…where to begin…”
The Snow Globe