22 Supper (2/2)

***

Thomas Hark sipped from his wooden cup, his tired hazelnut eyes locked onto the candle which stood at the center of the table. He watched, eyes drooping, as the miniature flame flickered and danced according to the direction of the wind.

”Remember, we have to get up before the sun rises at six so we can get to the air ship on time.” His father warned.

”Do you think we'll be able to see Captain Alfa this time?” His brother, Aaron, wondered aloud.

”It's Uncle Alfa. And no, I don't think we'll be able to see him. He usually wakes up when the sun sets. We'll be ahead of him when the time comes.”

”Dang it.” Aaron sighed dramatically, resting his chin on his hand. ”And here I thought I'd get to see Alfa's new dashing dog. What was he called again? Gentlemen Clark?”

His father burst into laughter at the roast while Aaron politely chuckled, not really thinking his joke was that funny.

Thomas Hark blinked, confused as to who Clark was. Was he someone important? How come he had never head of him before?

”Who's Clark?” Thomas asked, curiously.

”You don't know who Clark Hope is? Where have you been?” Aaron questioned, his eyes wide and eyebrows raised.

Just as Thomas Hark opened his mouth, a shrill squeak pierced the air before something splashed into his soup, soaking his face and staining his clothes in watery brown liquid.

Aaron laughed at his misfortune while his father furrowed his bushy brows. All Thomas Hark could do was blink his eyes in surprise, mouth still slightly open.