The Swailing

The Rockies: Friend

I climb onto the huge, fume-spewing bus and take a seat next to a friendly looking middle-aged woman. She's soft and thick around the middle, with a cheery round face and a bright smile.

"Hi there!" she greets me, trying to press her bulky body tighter in her seat to make more room.

"Hi." I smile back, tuck my backpack under the seat and sit down.

"Traveling light, huh?" the woman asks. "I wish I could travel light. Always pack WAY too much stuff and then don't even need half of it."

I smile and nod, though I don't know how to pack any other way than light. I don't own enough stuff to "pack heavy."

"You from the Rockies, hon? Going home?"

I shake my head, surprised. I thought I totally stood out as someone from Optima, with my bland clothes and natural hair color.

"Oh. Sorry. You have that Rocky look about you."

"Really?"

"Yeah, very natural. Very ... fit."

Huh, I think. Maybe the Rockies are more like home than Vegas is. Oh, who am I kidding – Mars is more like home than Vegas is.

"I'm from Optima, actually."

"Oh, sure! I haven't met many people from Optima – they don't usually make it to Vegas. I'm from Prospera myself. Never been all the way out to the coast. Don't think they'd let me in with all this." The woman rubs her hands across her midsection and I am embarrassed that my Sovereign has the reputation of being sizeist. But I suppose the truth is that most people in Optima are. I mean, that is one of the reasons my mom left – because they take children away from their families if they are too big. Overweight adults are not only looked down upon but are taxed more heavily because people think they should have more control and make better choices. But I know, because of my mom and brother, that all people aren't meant to be the same shape and size.

I pat the woman's arm. "You should come out some time." I say it, for the first time realizing that maybe she truly can't, that Optima really might not let her in. The though horrifies me.

"I'm Sabine."

"Ember."

"Ember, that's a nice name. Did you have fun in Vegas, hon?"

I nod, realizing I can't tell Sabine the whole story – that I'm running off to find my family and have been scammed by a good-looking stranger. So I simply say, "They sure show a lot of skin, don't they?"

Sabine laughs. "That they do. Me, I just go for the shows and the gambling. Don't have gambling where I'm from."

"You said you were from Prospera?"

Sabine nods.

"What's it like there?"

Sabine shrugs. "It's nice, I guess. Cold as a penguin's tush in winter, and sometimes a bit quiet for my taste, but overall it's nice. You staying in Denver for a bit?"

Now I shrug. "I'm not sure, exactly. Kind of figuring it out as I go. I'll probably be heading to Prospera eventually. Traveling is pretty new to me."

"Oh, the Midwest is easy. We don't have too many rules like some places. I mean, we're not like the Rockies. People pretty much do whatever they want there. Prospera is more moderate, I guess."

Sabine tells me I should get up to the mountains while I'm near Denver, maybe do some skiing.

"Do you ski, honey?" she asks.