[mark12_30]

He turned toward her, his face twisting. "Into the place-- the place--" He stared at her, slack-jawed. Esta's place? Phura's place?

Just as Cami realised she might not have put the question very well, or perhaps too well, Gamba disintegrated once again, as the sudden realization crashed into his soul. He had lost Esta, and that had been horrible. What did he think losing Phura and Azraph was going to be like? And how soon would that happen?

His eyes went wild, his precarious self control disintegrated yet again, and Cami suddenly realised his despairing, gasping sobs were echoing through the entire harbor. Mithadan's head popped back up the hatch in alarm, and he beckoned them below. Cami tried to respond, but not fast enough; Mithadan ran forward, snatched the boy and dodged below, into Cami's cabin, where his howls echoed and seemed louder still.

Mithadan siezed a pillow, and thrust it at Gamba. "Cry into this." Gamba obeyed, and more importantly, realised that Mithadan was concerned about the noise, and met his gaze, and tried hard to choke everything back. Mithadan watched him struggling, as Cami appeared, one hand against her own head, and waved him out. "Thanks. I'll see if I can't fix this."

Mithadan nodded, and stepped out, once again ruffling Gamba's hair as he squeaked and wheezed. Gamba winced as he did, thinking that he was going to lose Mithadan too. Who wouldn't he lose?

The boys. Rose. And Cami.

He reached for Cami, and burrowed against her shoulder, and then reached for the pillow again, put that against her shoulder, and cried into it some more. When he quieted a little, he choked out, "I'll try, Mom. I'll really try." And he clutched her tightly until he was quite done crying, at least for the evening.

-----------------

Gamba had slept much of the day, and so was not very tired. For a while he lay awake, next to Phura, wrestling with his heartache, and when he couldn't stand it anymore, he slipped out again, and wandered the ship. He roamed aimlessly over the whole thing, and the fourth time he passed Mithadan and Pio's cabin, he sat down outside the door.

He seemed to have a pattern, he thought; he could spend months or years around a person, and still only realise how much that person meant to him a few days or weeks before he lost them forever.

Esta. Loremaster. Phura. Azraph. Kesha. Bird. Levanto.

And now, surprisingly, Mithadan. He longed to tag along beside the man and ask him question after question, about decisions, about duty, about hangovers, and inns, and freedom, and ships, and about command and obedience; but most especially, about growing up, and why it was so hard.

But it was no good. He was about to lose him, forever, and the opportunity was gone. A single tear trickled down Gamba's face, and he leaned back against the doorpost, utterly miserable, and wished he had sought out Mithadan long ago.

And then he stood, and dashed the tear away. There was another he would lose soon, and he, thought Gamba, might be awake. He clambered rapidly up the ladder, and ran out onto the stern. "Levanto!"

There was a soft answer, and Gamba threw himself overboard into the soothing, cool water beside his friend.

Several on the docks started at the splash, and one queried incredulously, "Man overboard?"

"Not at all, my good sir; do not trouble yourself. Enjoy the delightful evening air, " Levanto soothed him. The man puzzled at the voice which came from the water and not the ship, but all seemed still again, and he shrugged.

Levanto smiled sadly at Gamba. "Now, if he had said, Hobbit Overboard, I couldn't have denied it, could I?"

They talked about many deep and serious things until just before dawn, at which point Gamba shinnied back up the anchor chain, and climbed dripping over the rail. He sneezed a lot for the next several days.

[ December 19, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]