Whale smiled. She loved the look on people’s faces when she told them that. They would always hesitate, their eyes running over her body, making note that she wasn’t a particularly large person. They would open their mouth as if to say something then close it fast, thinking better of it.
Then she’d walk out toward the rising tide, lift her hands up to the setting sun, and fall into the salty bliss that was her home. She was free to swim again in her true form, Whale.
“These are odds times, Hector. It suits him.” Tereasa wrapped her newborn tightly in the threadbare blanket. She looked out at the vacant auditorium, the shadows of people past still lingered in the seats.
Wincing, she tried to get up.
“What are you doing?”
“We have to keep moving. They’ll find us.”
“They’ll be sure to find us if you pass out in the snowy street. Lay down.”
Hector took his son in his arms and looked at his wife on the hard, dusty floor.
“Stage, huh? Well, I guess it’s as good as any name.”