Winnipeg, Canada

The children’s moon hangs above their lonely city, and tonight, it is split between black and white. One side rejects the sun, casting itself in darkness. The other side reflects it, embracing its light. Beneath this equilibrium, Hrodwyn walks to their home, treading by the light left from where the sun divides.

Hrodwyn decides to leave their shift at The Sushi Place early. They make a detour to buy a box of cheese pizza, wait at a bus stop in the negative-degree cold, and trudge the length of their street through snow and ice to get home. When they arrive, Merethel wakes Hygd up from her nap. The three children begin microwaving pizza slices by the plateful, and their phones simultaneously buzz with their father’s messages.

Gavrill: Hello! I have finished my job here. The company can only fly me tomorrow night, so I will be going home then.

I can’t wait to see you all!! I miss you all very much already. ❤️

Gavrill: I’m sorry I’ll not be there for Valentines Day, but I’ll be there the day after, on the 15th. I’ll get you gifts here. I love you all very much!

Merthel frowns. “Ah shit. I accidentally opened his message.”

Meanwhile, Hygd’s face lights up at the messages. She texts back quickly and looks at Merethel. “Why’s that a bad thing?”

“Ugh, I don’t want to talk to him right now,” he turns away from his phone’s light and puts it down on the bar table.

“Why?”

“Because I just don’t want to, okay?!”

“But he’s alive! You should say something!”

The microwave beeps. The children take their seats and Merethel sets the plate of pizza. “It doesn’t matter. You’ve already said something, and jisha-vosha’s saying something,” he nods at Hrodwyn texting away. “We’ll see him when he gets home, anyway.”

Hrodwyn looks up from their screen at the mention. They look back down and sigh heavily, leaning their head on their hand.

Gavrill: I’m glad you got off your shift early. Did you talk to the Greenwell folks about hiring positions?

Hrodwyn: no, not yet. openings are very busy so there’s usually no time to talk to anyone

Hrodwyn: and once my shift is over, i immediately go to the sushi place

Gavrill: I see. Don’t forget to ask them, however!

Hrodwyn: ok

“He’s asking about working at Greenwell again,” Hrodwyn mumbles.

“Oh, God,” Merethel makes a dry laugh. “I don’t get it. Isn’t his weird job good enough?”

“Yeah…” Hygd looks at Hrodwyn. “But why are you still working there? Daa’s job has all the money, right?”

Merethel scoffs. “Don’t be stupid. He can drop dead anytime. What then?”

“You don’t know that!”

“Come on, Hygd. Grow up! Whether you like it or not, there’s going to be a chance of daa dying. He said it himself. It’s stupid to think that he’ll come back home alive!”

Hrodwyn straightens. “Merethel—”

“You know it, Hrodwyn. And I don’t get why you keep pretending otherwise. Why daa keeps pretending and talking like everything’s fine, like this is all normal. Like, what does he expect? We’re just going to be fine with him leaving once for a few months and potentially never seeing him ever again?”

Hygd frowns. She tries to reflect the hope her father gave her. “That’s not fair! Daa’s trying his best—”

“Oh, I don’t care!” Merethel scoffs. “He doesn’t get to waltz in and pretend that everything’s fine and dandy when it’s not and never will be! He doesn’t deserve it. That’s right — he doesn’t deserve it because it’s so annoying to see him act like he didn’t fuck off for a decade. He keeps acting like we’ve known him our whole lives and that’s stupid.”

“But it’s not his fault!” Hygd yells across the bar table.

“I know but ugh, it still gets on my nerves! Don’t expect me to play along with his antics. And next time,” Merethel points at Hygd, “don’t fucking tell dad about Steora. That’s none of his business.”

Hrodwyn sighs. “Merethel.”

“He’s literally your dad, doofus,” Hygd throws her hands as she speaks. “Why can’t he know you have a girlfriend? It’s-it’s also not fair you’re not giving him a chance, you know!”

“Guys, stop. Please,” Hrodwyn says.

“Oh, you’re on his side now?” Merethel snaps his head to Hrodwyn.

Hrodwyn meets his eyes. “There are no sides to this, Merethel! Whether you like it or not, this is the boat we’re stuck in, and I’m trying my best to keep it AFLOAT!“

Silence falls at the table. Hrodwyn seldom yells. The nineteen-year-old, barely two years fresh from high school, buries their head in their hands.

“I get why dad wants to work at Greenwell. Extra cash is... always good. But...” they sigh. “If he thinks that’s going to make me stop working there...”

Merethel snorts. “Not as long as he can drop dead anytime, eh?”

Hrodwyn’s head shoots up with a glare. “You know, it’s also annoying that you keep bringing that up as if you won’t be devestated if that fucking happened.”

“I don’t know. Maybe I won’t feel anything,” Merethel leans away from Hrodwyn, arms crossed in front of him. “He was gone for 10 years. What difference does it make?”

Hygd shrinks in her seat. “I don’t want him to die.”

The two siblings look at their little sister. She hasn’t finished her slice of pizza. Her hands hug her knees as she tries not to cry.

“I don’t want anyone to die.”

Merethel lowers his arms and mumbles. “Me neither, but it’s safer to expect the worst.”

Hrodwyn’s head retreats back to their hands. They’re tired of this — tired of agreeing with what they scold Merethel for, tired of letting Hygd down for having dreams they too desire. It’ll be easier to think like they do. Everything will be as clear as black against white, as clear as how their younger siblings look at the two different sides of the same moon.

Only Hrodwyn sees the moon for what it is. Only they see how it spins through its phases in its eternal chase after the sun. But their truth will be hidden in the blur of lies they tell their themselves, the lies forever melting in the line where the sun divides:

It’ll be so much easier if daa never came home.

—

[BOND WITH CHILDREN: -6]
[CURRENT BOND WITH CHILDREN: 1/7 POINTS]