> Is this the little girl I carried?
> Is this the little boy at play?
> I don't remember growing older
> When did they?
> When did she get to be a beauty?
> When did he grow to be so tall?
> Wasn't it yesterday when they, were, small?
>
> Sunrise, sunset, Sunrise, sunset
> Swiftly flow the days
> Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers
> Blossoming even as we gaze
> Sunrise, sunset, Sunrise, sunset
> Swiftly fly the years
> One season following another
> Laden with happiness, and tears
Fiddler on the Roof - “Sunrise, Sunset”
----------------------------------------
“...stop fussing.”
Nassat sighed, as Tango finished the last-minute touches on his robes. “You want to look your best today, don’t you?” she asked him, as he tried to bear up with her ministrations. “You know the media will be there in full force.”
“Why?” he asked her. “Today has nothing to do with me.” The comment earned him a raised eyebrow. The Saurotaur sighed once again. “For almost twenty years now, I have done my very best to stay out of the limelight. I am no longer in uniform, I serve in no government position, I attend no events...so why after all this time is the media still interested in my comings and goings?”
“Because nothing piques the public's attention like the mysterious, reclusive hero,” she chuckled. “After all these years, you’d think you’d have figured that out by now.”
“I keep hoping they will forget about me,” he said. “If avoiding the public does not work, and embracing their attention even less so...then what does that leave?”
“Nothing,” she grinned. “Face it boss...you’re a marked man. Well, Saurotaur.” Tango made one final adjustment and stepped back. “Perfect,” she said in approval. “Now try not to mess it up until after the ceremony.”
Nassat inclined his head in thanks, as he turned to face the mirror. He couldn't believe the image staring back at him was who he was now. The years had not been unkind, but they had still left their mark. The new lines and wrinkles that seemed to appear almost daily, the thickening around the middle and haunches that refused to disappear, despite his best efforts...but most of all it was the eyes. The humans believed that they were the windows to the soul, and he could not disagree.
The eyes that stared back at him belonged to someone much, much older...someone who had borne witness to things he would very much like to forget.
And yet he found a smile lurking somewhere within the depths, as he turned back to the human. “As always, you have transformed this aging recluse into something that will not embarrass his children,” Nassat informed her, earning him yet another grin. “How would I have managed all these years without your ministrations?”
“I think you would have stopped bathing after about six months,” she smirked, her eyes twinkling, “without someone to remind you.”
The pair shared a brief laugh, as his eyes went to the ubiquitous autopistol she wore in her shoulder rig. “Is that necessary today?” he asked.
“I hope not,” Tango replied, “but that doesn't mean I’m leaving any of you unguarded. You still have a few enemies out there, you know...not to mention the random troublemakers.”
Nassat grimaced but made no further protests. “Have they arrived yet?” he asked, changing the subject.
“On their way,” she informed him. “I assume you want to greet them in the garden?”
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“I do,” he nodded.
“I figured as much,” she said. “If I’ve timed this right, they should walk through the front door about the time you’ve settled in your favorite spot.”
“The day your calculations are incorrect is the day the Universe stops spinning on its axis,” he smiled. “Shall we?”
The human female grinned, leading the way through the house and down to the garden that dominated the landscape around his home. Tango said it was almost Japanese in style, and after she had shown him examples from Earth it forced him to agree. There were differences but similar aesthetics and philosophies seemed to abound. It was a quiet place, a place of reflection, that calmed his restless spirit.
He had just settled in, with a view of the meandering stream, when Nassat heard someone call out to him.
“Father?” a deep voice inquired, as two figures rounded an ornamental shrub, breaking out into smiles as they rushed forward to greet him.
“Taichist, Chechla...let me look at you,” he said, his hands reaching out to take theirs. He took a moment to gaze at them both, marveling yet again at just how much they had grown. “How is it you have both grown so big? I recall holding both of you in my arms as I carried you to bed.”
“I have known children to do that,” Tango observed, as she took position at his side.
“Hello Tango,” Chechla smiled. “Have you been looking after Father…despite his complaints?”
“Always,” she grinned, as his daughter chuckled. “It’s good to see you two. Place isn’t the same without you.”
“It isn’t,” Nassat agreed, “but children must strike out on their own.” He smiled at them both. “No matter how much their decrepit old parent may miss them.”
“You are far from decrepit, Father,” Taichist smiled. “I suspect you could still pass the Army physical if you wanted to.”
He dismissed that with a wave. “Then it is a good thing that I do not want to,” he smiled, as he motioned for them to sit down. They each took a seat beside him, as he poured tea. “Besides, we have much more pleasant things to talk about today...for today I am given the great privilege to see my children receive their official scholastic credentials and take their place among the ranks of those who have gone before.” Nassat squeezed both of their hands. “I am so very proud of you,” he whispered, his voice filled with sudden emotion.
His son and daughter both blushed as he nodded to Tango. She produced two small presents, passing them over as the children looked at him.
“On the day of your graduation, it is customary to gift the former student with a token, something that announces to the world both who they are...and from where they come.” Nassat turned first to Chechla, giving her a small flat box. Her brother looked over as she took it with trembling hands, lifting the hinged lid...before gasping in wonderment as she lifted out a piece of finely wrought jewelry, a sphere suspended within a tetrahedron, dangling from a delicate-looking chain.
“...it’s beautiful,” she whispered,” as she held it in her palm.
“It was your mother’s,” Nassat said softly, “...and her mother’s before her. I know she would want very much for you to have it, the daughter that carried on her family’s tradition of becoming Healers.”
Chechla blinked back sudden tears, as she held it out to her father. Nassat accepted the pendant and fastened it around her neck, taking her hand and kissing it, before she marveled at it once more.
“It suits you, Sister,” her brother smiled.
“That it does,” Nassat agreed, as he turned to his son and held out a larger box. Taichist took it from his father’s hands and opened it, staring in shock as he lifted out a gleaming gold medallion, hanging from a dark blue ribbon of embroidered cloth.
“...it is your Cœur de Lion,” he said. “They awarded you this on Uzaunx.” He gazed upon it with almost religious awe...before closing his eyes and holding it out to his father. “It is too much,” Taichist whispered. “I cannot accept this.”
Nassat smiled and closed his son’s fingers around the medal. “There is a reason I chose this for you,” he said gently. “They awarded me many decorations, but that was the first. The one that taught me they were both a blessing...and a curse.” He glanced over at Tango, sharing a look with her as she watched over them. “That you have chosen to become a Diplomat, to prevent war…” His eyes were wet as he gazed at his son. “I present you this small token, hoping it will never be awarded again.”
He reached out and gathered his children, holding them close. “I love you both so very much,” he said softly, “and I know your Mother is watching over you.” Nassat hugged them, not wanting to let go...until Tango made a small noise in her throat.
Reluctantly, he loosened his grip. “And now, we must depart,” he sighed, “so that the world may see what I do.”
“...we love you too, Father,” Chechla whispered, as her brother nodded in agreement. Nassat took their hands once more, rising to his feet...as Tango led the trio to the waiting limousine.