Disclaimer: Zell wishes he owned Final Fantasy VIII so that he could have
been the star of the entire game instead of 'best supporting character,'
but since neither Zell nor I own FF8, the chances of that occurring are
slim to none.
Mrs. Dincht had always hoped she would wake up to a day like this one- the clear blue ocean stretching out in all directions as far as the eye could see, the soft lull of waves lapping against the side of the boat, the sharp tang of salt hovering over the water. It was seemingly unheard of to live in Balamb and to never have taken a real trip out into the ocean, but time and circumstance had never allowed Etta Dincht that delight. When the whole town had known her by name and known exactly what tragedy had befallen her sister, they had been careful to never let little Etta near the water. But now she was free to sail above it with little between her and the ocean. Considering the first thing that she could recall of the ocean in her younger days, it was amazing that she loved it as she did. It had torn apart her family- the undertow taking her sister far beneath the glassy surface- leaving her parents desperately trying to re-stitch the seams of their lives that were rapidly unraveling beneath them. When her parents had become old, and near the parting of worlds, they had requested that they be buried at sea so they could finally be reunited with their first-born. And the first-born had always been that. First. Etta had always felt that she had been unlucky to be the child that had been spared by the ocean. There was the grief, of course, and the mourning, but her mourning had eventually come to an end as she realized that her own life had to go on. Her parents' grieving went on throughout their entire lives together, until it no longer seemed that they were living with each other, but merely both living with their daughter's memory. Etta had never received as much attention as her sister had- and still had received posthumously. After all, how could Etta ever compete with such a feat as death?
None of these thoughts, however, were focused on in Mrs. Dincht's mind right now. She was finally going to have the child she had always dreamed of; a boy- the hospital hadn't actually said much more than that when they had talked to her. All that she needed to know was that she was about to be the mother of someone special. Mothers, there certainly seemed to have been an outbreak of them lately. Both of the Shym and Ketter women had become pregnant this last year. The Ketter's child had already been born- it was a happy, gurgling two-month old girl- while the Shym's baby girl was expected sometime in early June. With her new son, that would bring the town's population of children up to an impressive sum of four, including the Shym's oldest child, a boy who was already ten. Two boys and two girls. . . Etta thought- just add a margarita and you'd have yourself a Friday night fish-fry. Etta tried to immediately push the lewd thought out of her head- she was about to be somebody's mother, and that just wouldn't be being a good role-model. She could feel a twinge of anticipation at this thought- she was about to be a mother. The only thing that could make this trip better was if her husband could be by her side right now. He was badly needed down at the docks for the next three days, and there had been no way that he could have gotten off of work. Reluctantly he had agreed to let Etta go herself; though he had so wanted to be there for that first moment.
Shadows of earlier recollections had found their way back into Etta's head. She hadn't had the perfect fairy-tale childhood, but maybe this boy could. She would make sure there was never any doubt in his mind that she loved him. Gracious- she had just realized the hospital had been so anxious to find a parent for this child that they had neglected to give her it's name! That was assuming that the boy had a name, though. From what they had said, this baby couldn't be very old, probably younger than a week. Etta couldn't even begin to comprehend what could make a mother give her baby up for adoption- but perhaps she was being overly judgmental, she didn't know the woman after all, and she had no way of knowing what that woman's situation was. It was all best to leave the judging for holy Alexander. The only thing that mattered in the entire world right now was that Etta Dincht was about to be a mother- and she would forever cease to be Mrs. Dincht; and become Ma.
The Horizon Bridge had been properly named- Heidi had felt as though she were on the very edge of the Earth when the sun's orange glow had finally been snuffed out by the star-speckled canvas of night. The air had grown colder and unidentifiable bugs had hummed and chirped in the darkness, while the trumpeted protests of vessels far out in the ocean had seemed to be accentuated when the wide ocean could no longer be seen. One foot in front of the other, Heidi reminded herself silently. One step at a time would bring her to Rodney, one step at a time would bring her back to Esthar and then more steps would bring her home again. Tiny steps, baby steps. Her mind registered this as a highly offensive. 'you have no right to even think the word baby after what you did,' her mind whispered. She pushed the thoughts out of her head by looking at the bright pinpricks of light overhead. Her eyes fell on each of the constellations, greeting each by name. They finally rested on one specific constellation set apart from the rest. It resembled a great lion that wept all the night, and the star cluster had thence been appropriately named Griever. Heidi was grieving for many things she had lost. She was sorrowed by the loss of her husband and the loss of her baby, but somehow the dispossession that bothered her the most was the loss of herself.
Mrs. Dincht had always hoped she would wake up to a day like this one- the clear blue ocean stretching out in all directions as far as the eye could see, the soft lull of waves lapping against the side of the boat, the sharp tang of salt hovering over the water. It was seemingly unheard of to live in Balamb and to never have taken a real trip out into the ocean, but time and circumstance had never allowed Etta Dincht that delight. When the whole town had known her by name and known exactly what tragedy had befallen her sister, they had been careful to never let little Etta near the water. But now she was free to sail above it with little between her and the ocean. Considering the first thing that she could recall of the ocean in her younger days, it was amazing that she loved it as she did. It had torn apart her family- the undertow taking her sister far beneath the glassy surface- leaving her parents desperately trying to re-stitch the seams of their lives that were rapidly unraveling beneath them. When her parents had become old, and near the parting of worlds, they had requested that they be buried at sea so they could finally be reunited with their first-born. And the first-born had always been that. First. Etta had always felt that she had been unlucky to be the child that had been spared by the ocean. There was the grief, of course, and the mourning, but her mourning had eventually come to an end as she realized that her own life had to go on. Her parents' grieving went on throughout their entire lives together, until it no longer seemed that they were living with each other, but merely both living with their daughter's memory. Etta had never received as much attention as her sister had- and still had received posthumously. After all, how could Etta ever compete with such a feat as death?
None of these thoughts, however, were focused on in Mrs. Dincht's mind right now. She was finally going to have the child she had always dreamed of; a boy- the hospital hadn't actually said much more than that when they had talked to her. All that she needed to know was that she was about to be the mother of someone special. Mothers, there certainly seemed to have been an outbreak of them lately. Both of the Shym and Ketter women had become pregnant this last year. The Ketter's child had already been born- it was a happy, gurgling two-month old girl- while the Shym's baby girl was expected sometime in early June. With her new son, that would bring the town's population of children up to an impressive sum of four, including the Shym's oldest child, a boy who was already ten. Two boys and two girls. . . Etta thought- just add a margarita and you'd have yourself a Friday night fish-fry. Etta tried to immediately push the lewd thought out of her head- she was about to be somebody's mother, and that just wouldn't be being a good role-model. She could feel a twinge of anticipation at this thought- she was about to be a mother. The only thing that could make this trip better was if her husband could be by her side right now. He was badly needed down at the docks for the next three days, and there had been no way that he could have gotten off of work. Reluctantly he had agreed to let Etta go herself; though he had so wanted to be there for that first moment.
Shadows of earlier recollections had found their way back into Etta's head. She hadn't had the perfect fairy-tale childhood, but maybe this boy could. She would make sure there was never any doubt in his mind that she loved him. Gracious- she had just realized the hospital had been so anxious to find a parent for this child that they had neglected to give her it's name! That was assuming that the boy had a name, though. From what they had said, this baby couldn't be very old, probably younger than a week. Etta couldn't even begin to comprehend what could make a mother give her baby up for adoption- but perhaps she was being overly judgmental, she didn't know the woman after all, and she had no way of knowing what that woman's situation was. It was all best to leave the judging for holy Alexander. The only thing that mattered in the entire world right now was that Etta Dincht was about to be a mother- and she would forever cease to be Mrs. Dincht; and become Ma.
The Horizon Bridge had been properly named- Heidi had felt as though she were on the very edge of the Earth when the sun's orange glow had finally been snuffed out by the star-speckled canvas of night. The air had grown colder and unidentifiable bugs had hummed and chirped in the darkness, while the trumpeted protests of vessels far out in the ocean had seemed to be accentuated when the wide ocean could no longer be seen. One foot in front of the other, Heidi reminded herself silently. One step at a time would bring her to Rodney, one step at a time would bring her back to Esthar and then more steps would bring her home again. Tiny steps, baby steps. Her mind registered this as a highly offensive. 'you have no right to even think the word baby after what you did,' her mind whispered. She pushed the thoughts out of her head by looking at the bright pinpricks of light overhead. Her eyes fell on each of the constellations, greeting each by name. They finally rested on one specific constellation set apart from the rest. It resembled a great lion that wept all the night, and the star cluster had thence been appropriately named Griever. Heidi was grieving for many things she had lost. She was sorrowed by the loss of her husband and the loss of her baby, but somehow the dispossession that bothered her the most was the loss of herself.
