Pearl

Chapter Twelve: Eggs and Pancakes and Bacon

She woke to comfort, and to noise.

She stilled, concentrating on her surroundings without opening her eyes.

Something soft draped over her shoulder, the dense fabric tickling her chin. By contrast, the material beneath her was plush and cool, her bare skin sticking to it where it touched.

Sounds filtered through her ears, some metallic clangs and two pitches producing noises in patterns that felt familiar.

She opened her eyes to find another pair staring straight back at her.

They were large, both kind and curious as they looked her over with wide wonder. They were a light blue, a contrast to the dark skin and curly hair that framed the small face.

"Charlotte, you best not be bothering the guest," the deeper pitch called from somewhere over her shoulder, in the direction of the metal clanks.

"She's up she's up she's up!" the higher pitch exclaimed, the small one in front of her bouncing up and down along with those patterned noises.

They were beginning to make sense, those noises, like a forgotten code that was slowly returning, and in turn came too the names for the things around her.

A man with wrinkled tan skin came from around the corner, grabbing the child and lifting her onto his hip. They were distinct, her skin much darker than his, her hair dense and curly to his thin, straight grey-brown. But the eyes and mouth were the same.

"Good mornin' to ya, miss. I don't suppose you want some breakfast?" he asked.

She smelled then, smelled good smells that made her stomach react. Her hair all over her body shuddered as it sought nutrition and failed to find any.

"Daddy! Daddy what's that on her face?"

She sat upright, the blanket slipping over her shoulder. Her eyes locked on the small one.

Defenseless. Easy. The feeders nearly trembled.

"I don't know, Cherry Pie, but why don't you go get your juice?"

She turned her attention to the man, to the beating pulse she could hear trailing through his body as he bent over to set the child down.

Her body remembered the taste of that pulse, from the two she had sampled in the chamber, that last time that she had found and consumed nutrition in this form.

Her primary feeders flexed and shuddered, her eyes misting over with hunger.

Something warm and round was pressed into her hands and she was startled into looking down. The good smells seemed to be coming from what was before her and she moved from buried memory, shoveling the contents of the plate into her mouth and ---

Encountering resistance. She touched the smooth hard plastic across her mouth, the lack of nerve-end feedback alerting her to the fact that it wasn't part of her. Her hands curled like claws around the plastic as she tugged and squeezed at it. Images flashed through her mind, images of people, images of people who did not have anything like what she felt on her face on theirs.

With a hard crack the plastic shattered into her palms and fell away from her face, and she felt the cool breeze of stale air as it brushed against her mouth for the first time she could remember.

She paused only a brief second before the smell reached her again, stronger now without the barrier, and she reacted.

Eggs. Eggs and pancakes and bacon. The names popped into her mind, supplied by those memories that weren't quite hers but were a part of her. She explored the flavors as she shoveled, briefly choking as she relearned that one could not swallow and breathe simultaneously, must do both in separate turns.