For some time I have been looking to the needs of Pa. I tidy his room and straighten the tumble of his bedding, and each week clean it in the air-tub, and because I do these small things for him, it does me no harm to also see to Lenny’s needs. This morning when I go to his room I find he has left a V cube on the floor. There is not much to see on it, and I wonder why he smiles. I sit on his bed and try to smile at the sketched figures that prance and dance and sing the praises of Seelong. The cubes are small enough for my hand to hold and have different prancers on five sides. They are colourful, as is the map on the sixth side. I do not understand it, but as I brush the tips of my fingers across the surface of it, one prancer disappears and from behind him, first comes black, then from within the black a living male appears. He speaks to me, speaks news of the city, then he leaves and the cube face shows a garden and many flowers. I watch it to its end, seeking the face of Nate amongst the many white overall clad workers who measure out water to the plants, certain I will know his face if I see it, though I have no mental image of him.
