Noor said “Oh!”
The bulb went out.
Daniel Charlie called “Is it screwed in tight?”
Blaine answered “Just a second.”
The light came on and stayed on. It was a feeble radiance, pulsing like a fragile heart in time to the beating of the water wheel.
Daniel Charlie whooped.
Blaine let out a shriek that startled Aisha and caused her to wail, until Noor soothed her.
A muffled exclamation burst from one of the windows of the domicile.
From up on the bridge, Tyrell’s cannon blast of a shout cracked the night.
More shouts welcomed the creation of electric light. There were outcries from across the river. The dogs all howled and were soon joined by coyotes somewhere off in the delta.
In the tiny, wavering pool of light Daniel Charlie and Blaine danced a frenzied mazurka and laughed like fiends.
Careful to keep her balance as she held her daughter, Noor lowered herself to her knees on a mound of earth. She held Aisha in her left arm. With her right hand she reached down and touched a grave marker. Her own tear splashed between her fingers. She smoothed it away with the rainwater that had collected in wrinkles of the plastic. She ran a fingertip along the contours of the letters carved into the wood underneath. The light was so weak. Yet, with each pulse the name blossomed momentarily.
Frost.
Copyright
Copyright Morgan Nyberg 2011
Some features of Greater Vancouver have been altered, removed or exaggerated.
ALSO BY Morgan Nyberg:
Mr Millennium
El Dorado Shuffle
Galahad Schwartz and the Cockroach Army
Bad Day in Gladland
The Crazy Horse Suite