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“Ahem.”
Sannel stopped pouring tea, and looked at her father who was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed.
“I’m going to bed soon, daddy,” she said, putting the little teapot down. It had roses painted on it, just like on the cups and plates. Papa had bought it for her the last time he visited Earth.
“That is not true, is it, Nel?”
“No.”
“Aela, Vir and Senna are coming tomorrow. Don’t you think they will be sad if you are too tired to make them feel welcome?”
“Yes,” she looked at her present guests, the stuffed animals, dolls and, of course Daffy, who had gotten a bowtie for the occasion, “But I’m not tired.”
“Not even a little?”
“No.”
“What are we going to do about that, I wonder?”
“Can I play a little more?”
“No, little one. You will get too excited to sleep at all.”
“But Daffy didn’t even get his tea.”
As if to emphasize the point, she pulled his string, and the little voice box cracked out one of the many catchphrases that made both him and Mollari promise that they would give Mary a drum set as a present one day to get revenge on Mr. Garibaldi.
“That is a tragedy, but I am certain he won’t mind waiting until tomorrow.” Sannel looked disappointed, so he walked over to her and whispered: “Would you like me to read you a story?”
Immediately, she looked happy again and ran over to her bookshelf with Daffy in her hand.
The book she selected had been a birthday present from Mr. Allen, but had disappeared in the chaos and other gifts. It was the result of one J’Orahn who had studied Earth culture and written and illustrated stories about Narns set in the format of human children's books. It became popular with both parties, and G’Kar had known that he would be subjected to it sooner or later.
He sat down on the edge of her bed and picked her up so that she was sitting on his lap. She had Daffy on her own, making sure that he could see, as well. The book was dedicated to someone named Pam, but G’Kar did not see it necessary to tell her that.
The first picture showed a happy little Narn in front of a house that was usually found in the country. She was running through the grass with her arms stretched out. It had been beautifully painted,
“Once there was a little Narn called G’Night. She always played all day long, and always went to bed when she was supposed to.” The next picture showed her doing both of those things. He turned the page, “But one night, that did not happen. G’Night had eaten supper, she had cleaned her teeth and washed her face, and both her mother and father had kissed her. But something very important was missing,” She now stood alone on a white page, her index finger halfway into her mouth, looking very confused.
“Her favorite toy. A little urlot made of the prettiest fabric in the whole world, with black button eyes.” Sannel's grip around Daffy became tighter. The next page showed the stuffed animal lying on its side. It was a sad picture, almost pathetic. The abandoned toy was lying in the corner, almost out of the book.
“You see, this toy was very special. It was the one that comforted G’Night if she had a bad dream. So if it wasn’t there, she would be all alone.” G’Night was standing on the middle of the page with a distraught look on her face, looking away from the direction where the urlot was.
“When you are old enough, you can comfort yourself when you have a bad dream. But when you are still little, you should not have to.” Sannel nodded, as if to herself. She did not have nightmares that often after she had stopped eating right before going to bed, but it was good to have Daffy when she woke up.
“G’Night knew this very well. She also knew that she would not rest until she had found her friend, so she armed herself and went out to search for him.” G’Kar rolled his eyes at the sight of the girl wearing a pan on her head and having tied pillows around her chest and back. As if the pouchling would not sneak into her older sibling’s or parents’ rooms to use their armor. He had already caught Sannel trying on his gloves and boots three times.
“G’Night ran through the house, looking under every chair and table, under the sofas and inside of every drawer and cabinet.” Now the drawings showed seven G’Night’s over two pages, searching the mentioned places.
“Finally, she ran out into the garden. The grass was very high, and it was difficult for her to see anything. Luckily, there was also a tree there with low branches, so she climbed up. But G’Night had forgotten that it had rained only that afternoon, and when she tried to jump to one of the high branches, her foot slipped and she fell.” Sannel turned the page over herself this time.
“But when she landed, it didn’t hurt as much as she would have thought. She had landed on the urlot.” A shocked G’Night was looking over her shoulder at the toy she was sitting on. “She had left him standing beneath the tree when she went in for dinner, and now he had broken her fall.” The other picture made them smile. She was hugging the toy as tightly as if she had not seen him in a year.
“She put her beloved toy under her arm and went back inside. She held him while she put the pan and the pillows back, and when she put on her nightwear and pulled her covers over herself. When she drifted off to sleep, she knew that she would be safe from nightmares and other dangers. The end. So? Are you tired now?”
Sannel shook her head, but her eyes were nearly shut when she looked up at him. He rose slowly and put her down on her bed, tucking her in for the second and last time that night.