A Non-5t Epiphany;

Sam and Ursula were no more than 3 minutes toward home, when Ursula caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, and asked, "How long do you think it'll take Teal to get over Travis' last name being 'Grant?'"

Sam had been expecting no such comment, and he wasn't sure either, so his laughter was a little nervous. "He customarily asked ME to _Grant_ him clemency. I imagine he'll make out alright." He diplomatically dodged a further discussion of the virtue of Teal, and turned the discussion toward the Nippons. "How did the Nippons strike you?" he asked.

Ursula needed little time for contemplation before she replied. "Their dignity was what was most apparent. Mr. Li was unflappable, and Raindrop was sweet. I think she'll open up and come out of her shell later, when she's less afraid of giving offense. They remind me of my Uncle George and Aunt Gina."

This harmless comment united with a stray recollection of a missed opportunity for Nintendo, and kicked off a chain reaction of memory in the mind of Mr. Clementine worthy of Rube Goldberg. Like the Wonderful One Hoss Shay going to pieces, Sam came to a realization. He turned and looked Ursula square in the face and asked in a trembling whisper, "Are you pregnant?"

Ursula was taken by surprise. She had a feeling that if she had NOT been taken by surprise, she would have had a remarkable kaleidoscope of emotions - the element of surprise meant she couldn't be mad at Sam for not anticipating any specific particular one of them. She experienced joy at the thought of success of that kind. She experienced doubt that Sam would be equally joyous. She thought Sam would HAVE to be glad, just on principle, but he would STILL be wondering how to break it to his Dad... he didn't call the old man "The Frank Lloyd Wright of Finances," for nothing: a money bags and a sugar daddy he was not - he'd heard the words before and you couldn't even embarrass him with them. Would Sam be of the opinion that he wanted children, but later? What if he felt like he'd already had all he wanted to have?

Then there were the hopes and fears of all that life could bring; the hopes of excellence in all things, and the uncertainties of fortunes here on earth. Someone really ought to put a statistician to work, figuring out statistically what exactly is wrong with the world. She had no idea of the sleepless nights she might have expected, or the depth of the bond that this generated. She had no idea of the worthlessness of language to explain why HER baby's cry tore her soul if she did not respond, while those whose cries had fallen on untortured hearing in times past, now tortured her differently - where was this baby's _real_ mother? She wasn't pregnant, and the immediate loss of all the promised joy of that potential hit her in a rush... it would have been easier to be angry at him just for answering the question. She turned her soulful gaze upon his twin fires of caring and concern, and admitted "I love you anyway, Sam."

He couldn't know what she had just experienced, and stumbled predictably. Despite his lack of empathy, her words had warned him, and his love of her was not unlike a deeply flowing current in a quiet part of a river elsewhere furious with rapids. He returned her scrutiny perplexedly... "I love you too." He stopped, and let silence be eloquent in his stead. He knew it was important, but not exactly why or what to say. She dissolved into tears quietly, and he could only think: the charted course to stupid questions lies on the other side of the door way marked "Why are you crying?" He pondered the comment "Want to talk about it?" in silence. She cried, and he cared... it was enough.