**Taavi's New Digs**
Prosper’s dusty blue hatchback bounced down the road towards Tidewater. Every day the geriatric little old car rattled just a bit more and Fish often said that soon it was just going to fall apart, but that hadn’t happened yet and so Prosper was going to drive the battered old Peugeot a little bit longer. (Yes, he realized that was an American ex-patriot living on Gaia and driving a French car. This didn’t bother him at all.) Every so often, he glanced over his shoulder at the little boy buckled into the back seat.
“You okay?” he asked.
“S’ kinda bumpy,” said Taavi, and felt sick. Most of the drive he’d just looked out the window. They were already far beyond anywhere he’d ever gone with mummy, so every meter of roadside flashing past was something new and exciting. Unfortunately, it was all going by so fast and his eyes were having trouble keeping up and combined with the rough ride it just made him feel nauseous.
Prosper chuckled sympathetically and steered the car onto a side road, which was even bumpier than the main one they’d just been on (if that was possible). Taavi pulled his eyes away from the window and focused on the back of the man’s head, but that didn’t help calm his stomach any.
“Feel kinda sick,” he muttered. He really, really did not want to barf in the car. That would make a terrible impression on his… his new family. That’s what they said this was. Mummy wasn’t able to take care of him anymore and so he was going to go live with Mr. Prosper and his two children.
“We’re almost there,” said Prosper, rolling down one of the windows. “Does that help?”
“A little,” said Taavi, who did not have the heart to tell him that all it did was make him feel a little bit cold. He did his best not to shiver until they finally got to the house. It did not look like any other house Taavi could remember ever going to. It looked very small and well loved. It had shingles, not on the roof but all over the walls. The roof itself was tin. It did not have a garage, but the roof extended out over part of the driveway and Prosper parked the car beneath that.
He got out and then got Taavi out of his carseat.
“Feeling any better?” he asked, picking him up.
“Still kinda sick,” said Taavi.
“Give it a little bit,” said Prosper, and Taavi did not object to being carried around the house and through the front door.
When they first walked in they wound up in the living room. Taavi looked around. It did not look at all like where he and Mummy used to live. There were two older children already there, camped out on the sofa. The girl was reading. The boy had some sort of hand-held video game.
“Ophelia? Fish?” asked Prosper. The children looked up.
“Yeah?” asked the girl – Ophelia? Taavi thought she looked familiar. The look on her face suggested that maybe she thought the same thing.
“This is Taavi,” said Prosper, setting the boy down. “His mother isn’t able to take care of him anymore, so he’ll be staying with us.”
“Like, you’re adopting him?” asked the boy – Fish? Weird name, thought Taavi. He’d never met anyone named Fish before.
“Not yet,” said Prosper. Taavi was not really sure what they were talking about at this point. “Maybe eventually if he does well here.”
“Where’s he going to sleep?” asked the boy.
“Your room,” said Prosper. Fish opened his mouth to protest, but the look on Prosper’s face said it was not open for debate. And that was that.
