Another New Arrival

Dear Zatea,

If you are interested in living where I am, I would encourage you to come over. I assume you wouldn’t want to stay with me, but I hear there is plenty of room in the local inn, and quite a few buildings which remain abandoned. I will put in a good word for you with the Captain.

Your Friend, Anevon

Z turned the letter over and over in her hands as she stared down the Captain in person. Anevon didn’t tell her there’d be an interview.

“Hey—Relax, Zatea,” said Swweets with a smile. “I just need to go over some rules with you.”

She nodded slowly and silently, then remembered some people interpreted silence as disrespect. “Okay.”

“There are really only three big ones,” he explained, becoming more serious. “First, if somebody works for me, do what they say. Second, I don’t imagine you’d want to leave, but if you do, you need to ask me, first. I’ll probably approve your request; it’s mostly a formality. And, Third, do not go into the water rides without my permission. They’re mine.”

The third rule was completely off the table for Z, and the other rules were iffy. Zatea was rubbing the paper as if it were a worry stone, leaving a mark of grease and dirt from her thumb—but she was an expert in keeping a stoic expression.

“Do you think you can follow those?” Asked Swweets.

His patronizing tone assured that she’d break them every chance she got. “I think so.”

The Captain grinned and held out his hand. “Excellent. Welcome to the park, Zatea.”

She shook it and smiled in return.

“God he pissed me off. Why didn’t you tell me about that?” Zatea was reclining on one of the antique sofas in Anevon’s lobby.

“Honestly, I didn’t think he would piss you off that much,” responded Anevon. She was drinking soup from a teacup, yet she still used a spoon.

“Really?”

“Yes! Talking to him is just checking off a box.”

Zatea rolled her eyes. “Sure.”

“Anyway, I’m glad you’re here. I-” Anevon paused as if the words had snagged on something, but she pulled them out, eventually. “I missed you.”

Zatea was staring at the ceiling when she heard that. She turned her head towards Anne, taking in her appearance in an instant: the longer hair, the now-patched jacket, the bags under her eyes, the ornate spoon in her hand. She fit in with her hotel, Z thought—needlessly decorative, still stuck in the past. Zatea felt her own words dogpiling on each other trying to escape, and after that, only the smallest sentiment could fit through. Z exhaled. “Yeah.”

Anevon sighed. It was hard not to believe that Zatea was still angry with her, even after all that time and all those letters. She distracted herself with a question: “You didn’t agree to his rules at all, did you?”

A mischievous grin made its way across Zatea’s face.

Anevon shook her head, though she couldn’t keep from smiling at Zatea’s obvious pride. “I’ll try to help you if you get into trouble, but don’t expect my word alone to accomplish anything.”

“I know, I know.”

Anevon’s smile faded. Zatea spoke to Anne as if she were speaking to her mother—maybe because you’ve been treating her like a child, Anevon chided herself. She took another sip of her soup and said, “Well, anyway, keep me updated.”