“Neakal! Another supper, please, and drink for two!”
“OK!” a small voice squeaked from somewhere nearby.
“Neakal? Who is Neakal?” Gerald asked.
“An orphan. No.” Sally cut off Gerald’s question. “No dragons involved. He is from Corbie, Myra’s village. I heard she had become like a mother to you, and I admit I was jealous. I went to visit and she became one to me as well. We trade with Corbie now, and Neakal came with the traders. He was staying with his aunt, but she died of the ague. He reminded me of you when you first came, and we needed help, so Cle and I gave him your old hut. He helps with the farm.”
Neakal came in—wide-eyed but beaming—carrying a tray with ham, potatoes, and vegetables. He set it near the fire. “I’ll be right back with drinks!” He disappeared before Gerald could speak.
“Well, he has energy!”
“And he can cook as well as me!”
“Well, I’m not marrying him, Sally.”
She laughed and reached to hug him but stopped short. “It’s so good to have you back! But you’re so wet!” She looked down. “And now so am I.”
Artwork by Alli Walker. Copyright 2016, Miles O'Neal, Round Rock, TX