“You okay son?” My dad asked, assessing me as he stood on the sidewalk with a brown jacket.

“Couldn’t sleep much,” I yawned. Dad reached his arm over to my opposite shoulder and squeezed me towards him as we followed mom. She stopped at a green awning attached to a brick building and pointed for us to enter.

Distinct clacking and chiming of ceramics and silverware on a few round tables resounded in the low-populated restaurant. Mom walked to the front desk with a marbled countertop and pillars on both its ends. Screens on the top wall displayed different menu options and thumbnails of colorful dishes, fading or swiping to new images every so often.

The waitress motioned for us to sit on a round table for three near the window and gave our menus. It was almost afternoon and I didn’t sleep much, so I looked for a dish that energized me and did not put me to sleep. If I’m up, then I’ll stay up; I’m spending time with my parents for the whole day and who knows if it’s the last time I’ll see them. After scanning through a menu with copious options, ‘Assorted Veggies & Nut Mix’ appealed to me—consisting of cabbage, corn, carrots, cucumbers, and roasted and salted peanuts and walnuts.

The waitress took our orders and menus soon thereafter and left to alert the kitchen, opening up a conversation on the table.

“You don’t want more food in your lunch?” Mom asked.

“No, I need it to be lightweight so I won’t suddenly sleep during our communion time,” I said. “It should last me the whole day unless I’m working like dad.”

Her growing warm smile beamed to me as the sun did on her, as she hung her white jacket behind and revealed a short-sleeved dress. It was a pale green that almost looked yellow underneath the sun’s rays, with warm-colored petals carefully sewn throughout. Even in the middle of winter, she brought spring with her.

I turned to my dad and his brown jacket and orange shirt. “You don’t look as pretty as mom.”

“Without manure, beauty won’t prosper,” dad responded. I heard mom chuckle and I surrendered to his comment soon after her.

“So out I come, is that what this is about?” My parents looked at each other and laughed. Whether it was for or against me, it mattered no more because this is what I came to experience. The soil, the seed, and the fruit in one continuum.

We discussed more about the letter, and I had to refrain from giving out any details no matter how subtle. More of their excitement leaked through this time, supplemented by the arrival of food to our tables. I had boiled vegetables and salty nuts, my dad had a large plate of millet and greens, and mom had her usual fruit salad.

We exchanged stories about our experiences since the last time we met. I talked about school, dad talked about doing various tasks at farms and running his mechanic shop, and mom talked about teaching children and gardening back at home. By the time our plates were emptied, the conversation finished on my distaste for schoolwork because it was neither challenging nor fun.

“You can always do something else; nothing has to be like a lifelong project or career like us. Just see what the Integrator’s letter was about and tell us about it when you are allowed to,” my mom reassured.

After a brief debate on who would be paying for the meal, my dad insisted on doing some service for them while my mom wanted to pay credits and get it over with. Without any warning, she simply walked up to the front desk and discussed the payment. Knowing her, she was well aware that she would succeed regardless of the circumstances because my dad was too unobtrusive to go into the kitchen and spontaneously start washing the dishes or whatever nonsense he could come up with.

For the rest of the afternoon, we strolled in a park, played some casual ball and frisbee, and enjoyed the winter breeze; savoring each others’ presence. The beginnings of twilight emerged, alluding to separation and departure. We stood beside the floating car that had been a part of my childhood, with a steady indigo light outlining its outer edges in a straight, geometrical pattern. Its design almost resembled a circuit board, much like the ones I had seen in my dad's shop.

“After yesterday's two important holidays, it may be a long while before we meet each other again,” dad said.

“We know this is something you hold dear to your heart, but make sure to give us a call so we can catch up,” mom added.

I nodded and mom stepped forward for a hug. Dad joined and wrapped his arms around both of us in a moment of silence; each of us visibly exhaling in the cold air. They stepped away from me and entered the car's front seats after waving their farewells, and accelerated into the distant road before turning a corner. I stopped to look at the twilit sky transitioning into darkness, then returned my attention to my path home; city nightlights activating along the way.

Tomorrow is the day the officers pick me up and I wouldn’t want to be late. I set an alarm for 06:00 and cozily snuggled in my cold, dry room. It was not often that the temperature would balance just right prior to sleeping. Maybe I was not paying any mind to the previous days, or perhaps the stars aligned for a special day. Immersing my face into the warmth of my pillow, I closed my eyes.