Russel stirred at the camera's flash, though not truly waking. He felt the change of air as something moved near him and dimly wondered where he was. Then a phone started ringing. The sound dragged him toward consciousness. Groping, he picked up the device in front of him without looking. Taking the call was muscle memory. Eyes opened onto completely alien surroundings and he briefly panicked before remembering he was on Ayame Sunrise’ plane. I must have drifted off. He brought the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Oh! Hello. Are you the boy? You must be!” The voice on the other end shifted drastically from one sentence to the next. Female. I think.

“Um,” Russel blinked, “yes?”

“Goodie! How are you? What is it you do? What are your hobbies? Ooh! What’s your favorite color?”

I wouldn’t know how to keep up with this if I was awake.  Is this a dream?

“Uh, I’m okay? I- a desk jockey, is all. …” What else had she asked again? “I… like green?”

“How perfect! What a pleasure to meet you! Well, sort of.”

“Sorry, who is this?” The ringtone was strange too. Whose phone am I holding?

“Call me Ma.”

“Okay.” Sure. Why not. Whose mom? Didn’t Ayame say something about her parents last night? Was it just last night? What time is it?

“Hello? Still with us?”

“Sorry,” Russel shook his head. Katana made a protesting meow as she abandoned his lap but it didn’t help him wake up. “How are you?”

“Oh, fine fine. But I fear I must chide you dear boy.”

“Sorry?”

“As you should, dear. As you should. I gave you a name.”

“Oh. Um, Russel. I’m - my name’s Russel, m- Ma.”

The woman, who he was guessing at least middle age, giggled like a little girl. What have I walked into? Not that I’ve been anything but out of my depth since Ayame- He caught himself this time- Amara, hit me. He bet this ‘Ma’ was about to chide him again.

“So how can I help you Ma?”

“Delightful!” The woman gave a soft squeal. “I’ll get right to it. What do you think of our Amara?”

She wasn’t kidding. Russel struggled with his brain to bring something coherent to the surface.

“She is very pretty.”

Ma clucked her tongue, the sound gaining a static-y fuzz over the phone.

“Quite, um, athletic.” Who would just fall off a fourth floor fire escape? “Good taste. Saved my life twice now, at least.” Russel couldn’t think of more than two instances, but he figured no harm hedging his bets.

“Yes, yes. But what do you,” she emphasized the pronoun, “think of her?”

“I,” Don’t know? I only really met her, what, yesterday I think. Sure, I knew who Ayame Sunrise was, more or less. And she seems to be a lot like her stage persona, so far. Other than all the … magic stuff. The magic, the living tree arm and such were a whole mess Russel simply didn’t know what to do with. Even with Jane explaining some of it on the drive to the airport, he’d just sat and nodded. Okay, I was also more than a bit distracted by my armload at the time.

“A lot of thinking, Russel. Should I be worried?”

“No,” he kicked himself mentally. Again. “No, Ma. She is- Amara’s nice. Fun.”

“Good, good.”

“Russel,” Amara’s voice intruded, very close.

Looking up, Russel jumped back after nearly bumping noses with her. Amara had leaned forward the small amount required to look him in the eye, hands on hips.

“Who’s on my phone?”

“Ah,” Ma sighed wistfully from the phone, “I suppose our time is up. You’ve been a delight Russel.”

“Thank you, Ma. It’s been-“

“Mother?!” Amara snatched the phone from Russel’s hand and whirled away as she lifted it to her own ear. Is she blushing? Why?

“Divine lady, please. I cannot- No, my Lady. Yes, divine Mother.”

What? Russel blinked. It didn’t help, so he tried again. Just who is this Ma? Why is Ay- Amara talking so differently to her?

Eventually, Amara lowered her phone. Her whole body sagged as she let out a long sigh. Russel opened his mouth but stopped short of speaking as Amara stayed with her back to him for a long moment.

Finally, she flopped into the seat beside him without looking his way. As she fiddled with her phone, Russel politely looked away. Wow this little table is fascinating. Ooh, and that must be the door to the cockpit. Huh. Who pilots a plane for someone like Ayame Sunrise? What a job. I wonder what that’s like.

His thoughts were interrupted by the phone hitting the table. Silence settled in it’s wake.