They stopped talking about that treaty, and I felt bad. But, Andy smiled. “A king is father to his people. Here is your son.”
I blinked, and a city appeared around us with orange sand and flowers like on MarKu. In the flowers, rippin’ ‘em up, was my son Bashiir. It’s a Somali name meaning ‘he who brings good news’. When he saw me, he ran to me and I dropped onto my knees. “Granny? Oh, Granny!”
“I’m your Mama!” I hugged him and cried!
“I’m you Granny! Who is this that you call Granny?”
Andy smiled, and my hands became smooth.
Mama grabbed Bashiir and screamed! “It’s witchcraft! She’s a witch!”
Bashiir clung to me! “Mama! Tell Granny you’re not a witch!”
Then, she noticed Dromie’s people! “Aaaaahhh! Goblins! It’s—where is this?” Mama always looked old. Her hair turned white the day she got shot as a child. But, Andy took her hand. “Don’t be afraid. I’m King Andy, and I’m a good king. You’d say I am reformed. Our people are your people now.”
“I-I don’ wanna live with goblins!”
It took a while, but Dromie showed her how he found our family. A holo came up of Gwen and Luna, who never knew Mama. “This is Granny?”
Dromie laughed and grabbed my arm. “This is Granny! That’s Granny’s Mama!”
“Ha! Granny’s a relative term! Oh, I’m happy to be able to see you, Granny! I guess Dromie made a holo, didn’t he?” Gwen’s green eyes had a wistful look to them.
“A holo?” Now I wondered if they were!
Dromie laughed. “Our people can bring back the dead! We brought back galaxies that were destroyed. Even Pirad’s people can’t do that. Pinda’s people can bring back one from bones. Our people can bring them back from particles smaller than your atoms.”
Mama shook all over. I pulled her into my arms with Bashiir, and we all talked at once. We’ll be talking for years! Andy carried Dromie with him and 8 other Edans and they walked into the green building, which had goblin faces with rings in their mouths in a gold door. The diplomats went with ‘em.
We showed Mama our house and there was another bedroom on the ground floor for her. Turkey dinner laid out on the table with foods I hadn’t seen since I was little. Somalian foods Mama fixed on special occasions.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Mama fixed all the plates and Gwen and Luna were here, too! “I missed you, Mama! That Black city shore is nice, an’ dey named it Jackson. But we’ll live here now. I guess I lived alone dis long, so I can stand it. I—”
A quiet knock made us look towards the open front door. “Hello. I am Songamar, Healer Of Pera. I know you would probably wish for my friend, Lunares, or even Diplomat-In-Aid Renapon, but I wish to see Bisharo and Bashiir when you finish eating.”
Gwen brought him in and made him sit by her. “I guess I might enjoy a little male company right about now.”
He giggled and waved up a pastry. Mama said a blessing thanking the Lord for our new home, and new friends. I waved for a nice cloth napkin in warm brown, and to my relief, it worked. Maybe exile won’t be so bad, with my family here, and friends.
After a wonderful dinner that tasted great, we walked around. Dromie’s people kept introducing themselves and asking about our customs. Mama was a walking encyclopedia of Somali and English customs. Gwen knew Southern US customs. Luna and Bashiir ran and played, with several Edan friends.
Our neighborhood included Elizabeth Street, Euclid Avenue, and several others, with a Krispy Kreme and a Mary Mac’s, but Edan employees learning things. We ported to London, a city with streets from North London. Edan struggled to make tea in a cafe’ and we laughed! They did, too. Mama showed them things because she worked in a cafe’ in London—this one.
And, she made samosas for all of us to try. Small triangles of pastry stuffed with potatoes, peas, ginger and chili powder, with or without meat, and fried. Mama made delicious ones!
They were now in our server menus to enjoy her recipe. She loved them extra spicy, and I had forgotten how good they tasted. Gwen and Luna also enjoyed them.
I showed Mama my telescope and we looked at Andromeda and planets as they appeared from Earth. She was delighted I remembered her stories about the stars, stories her village shared in Mogadishu when they moved there.
The villages Mama grew up in appeared on the map, and Mogadishu. Dromie made a house for her in one and brought her family. Plants I’d only seen in pictures of Somalia appeared in her yard, and other yards, with round green huts. Insects flew about! And birds! Other animals grazed. Cattle in pens. Goats. Chickens!
Her sister startled. “Oi! Where is this?! I was in London!” She had a husband and four children with her! And two brothers and their families!
We started over with the explanations, but Mama shocked me. “Listen to me! You can all have houses! How long you been waiting for whatever housing? I bet you still share a room, after years!”
No one argued after that! Everyone got their own house, and many of them had houses in that village, and a house on Elizabeth Street! None of the Edans complained about moving to different ones, so our new relatives could have their homes near us.
Gwen laughed. How long had it been since my green-eyed girl laughed a hearty laugh like that? “Who needs that Black city in MarKu? We have our family, and our roots, Somalia, London and Atlanta, all here!”
“Family! Yay!” Luna, Bashiir, and Dromie laughed and danced around. Dromie expanded my living room to hold them all, and a bunch of friendly neighbors who shared samosas and sambusas. My family’s really here! And the computer translated when they spoke Somali so I could understand all their varied accents. Edans all spoke it fluently! All the children joined in their dance, and I just enjoyed the happy faces. Finally, a safe place for us all, with gardens and farms, and quiet streets, and family I only knew from my mama’s stories, here to share it all with me.