Half Share by Nathan Lowell Page B

biscuits, always have, but this was something else entirely. The texture was light and flaky whereas Cookie’s were more cake-like. I put a dab of margarine on it and tasted it again. The old saying about ‘melting in your mouth’ came back to me.
    Bev was looking at me strangely. “What’s the matter?”
    “Nothing,” I said after I swallowed. “Try this, though.” I handed her a chunk of biscuit.
    She looked at it closely, shrugged, and then popped it into her mouth. I could see it register on her face. “Where’d that come from? And are there any more?”
    “Pip’s got a whole basket full over there.” I motioned toward the window.
    Then the cred dropped for Bev. “Sarah?”
    “Yup, I came up earlier for coffee. She was giving biscuit lessons to Cookie and Pip. Apparently, this is the result. The thing is, when I saw them, I didn’t see her doing anything really terribly different than Cookie taught me. Of course, I didn’t see the whole thing, but Cookie was paying very close attention.”
    “Well, whatever it is. I hope she doesn’t stop.”
    She started to reach for my other biscuit, but I playfully spanked her hand. “Mine!” I said with a mischievous smile. “Go get your own.” She got up to do just that, and I added, “And bring back a couple for me since you’re up.”
    She stuck out her tongue. “Get your own,” she mocked me with a big grin. When she came back, though, she dropped a couple extras onto my plate.
    Francis and Diane came onto the mess deck and waved as they got into the breakfast line. “Never overlook the obvious,” I mumbled to myself.
    “What?” Bev asked.
    “Something that Francis made me think of,” I told her. “Remember back on Margary when we were working that first booth?”
    “Yeah.”
    “He and Diane had a collection of brocaded vests, and he kept putting them out one at a time.”
    “I seem to recall that, but how is it significant?”
    “Originally I thought he was displaying them one at a time in order to drive the price up because people would think they were one of a kind or the last one or something. When I asked him about it, he told me that it was just easier to keep track of.”
    Beverly raised her eyebrows and looked at me like I had started speaking in tongues.
    “Seeing him just now reminded me of that. I was attributing more thought to something that was just convenience. In hindsight I’d over thought the situation and missed the obvious thing.”
    “Okay…” Bev gave me a strange look. “And this relates to what?”
    “Our little changeling in there.” I motioned toward Sarah.
    Bev pondered that for a tick. “And what’s the obvious thing?”
    “Something happened over night to convince her to trust us.”
    “You base this on…?” she prompted.
    “The hair.”
    “You are one strange man, Ishmael Wang. Hair?”
    Just then, Sarah walked by the open galley door and I saw Bev’s eyes flick over toward the movement. “Oh,” she said as she looked back at me with a speculative glint in her eye.
    I shrugged. “Either she trusts us or she’s testing us.”
    “I wonder what happened overnight,” Bev pondered.
    “I don’t know, but it might be as simple as waking up fed, rested, clean, dry, and safe.”
    Bev wrinkled her nose at that. “Kinda simplistic, but I suppose.”
    “You probably don’t remember because you’ve been aboard so long, you ole space-dog, but my memories are still fresh. When I came aboard, the only time I felt afraid was meeting Mr. Maxwell for the first time. My first pullout and first jump were a little nerve wracking, but I don’t know if I’d call what I felt as fearful. Despite all the unknowns, I’ve always felt safe aboard.”
    There was a little pause then I added softly, “Trust Lois .”
    Bev gave a little chuckle. “Indeed, and if Sarah keeps making biscuits like these, I’m going to need to work out more.”
    I finished the last of my omelet and looked at the chrono. “Speaking