E yoziyuahleuzi (momokwe hoplogafaze-gafaze hoplovoxouki). Yoyo. E lsurravensaizi hsaveynji. E lsurravensaizi soyano.
E shishizo-payazo kuri! A payazo hadespaya. Gohan hadespaya? Hadespaya miki…
Ji kuri yosanghi. A in’zi’ni yoliyu / E in’zi’ni yonaajuné. Momokwe yoisuravelsituzi! Kuri ba! Kuri mositu! Kuri naati lsuravelsituzi.
I don’t think Mum reads this. Good. I want privacy. I want secrets.
I heard forty-two! She sang hadesong. What is hadesong? Hadesong is pretty…
But forty-two isn’t safe. She has no time, and I have no power. Mum doesn’t understand! Forty-two is important! Forty-two is my friend! Forty-two is the only one who understands.
Xidastaliyu momokwe vreliuzo-in’i hoplovoxouki in’i-tasuzo E. O pavazi E leslespaze E godlila-erina moiskahoploho. A kicoopavazo-yotomazo E. A tomazi (E yogodilaze-erinaze moiskahoploho).
A yotoktokzi golan E yogodilazi-erinazi moiskahoploho. Ji E totokozi. A kono E sintukwe.
Momokwe yotoma (E totokozi (E sinyukwe)), ji E shishizi. E totokozi \ yopavazi.
E kwishazi shishi-paya biju-bubi. E kwishazi (shishi \ yopaya).
Ruli yopayazo. Gohan E lespazi? A min’zi’mi pfura? E jumanazi yo.
Gopan kuri? E hashizi poppoze-ponyoze (poppoi in’i EA).
E jumanazi (momokwe yohoplogafa-gafa hoplovoxouki).
Mum gave me this book for writing in. She says that maybe if I practice, I will learn Simlish. But she lied and I did not believe her. She doesn’t think that I will learn Simlish.
She doesn’t know why I can’t learn Simlish. But I know. It’s because I’m a peace soldier.
Mum doesn’t know that I know I’m a peace soldier. But I listen. I know, and I don’t talk.
I like listening to the hundred-forty-three. I like listening to their songs. I don’t sing, though.
Lately, seventy-seven has not been singing. What happened? Has he caught pfura? I hope not. I like listening to his songs.
Where is forty-two? I miss our games.
I hope Mum doesn’t read this,
Happy Halloween! It’s the first one we’ve really celebrated as a family.
You were so excited to carve pumpkins and get costumes. I never really celebrated it with the girls, being busy with work, but now that my job is to take care of you I couldn’t say no to those eyes.
So we got ourselves a carving table, and you started to work right away!
You put so much work into that pumpkin…
…and this is what we got!
Not the most perfect pumpkin, but so cute! Maki, Jenny, Sarah, and I also made pumpkins!
This one was Jenny-Kari’s:
This one was Sarah-Kiya’s:
This one was Maki’s (I love her sense of humor):
Look! I made a kedi-pumpkin:
I’ve been telling you all about our homeworld’s Spook Night, too. After that comes Spirit Day, when we honor the dead. Maki tells me that some cultures here have a Day of the Dead too, and that it comes right after Halloween! Wow!
Kediké, you look so happy. I hope you can always stay that happy.
I started your telepathic testing today. The first thing I realized is that I know who you are, pabizoo.
You’re sinyukwe. A peace soldier. I knew most of them were clones, but I didn’t know I had one in my house.
You’re already so strong. I’ll have to teach you telethics soon, before you start probing minds without permission. Once you grow up, you could force anyone to do anything you wanted, just like the other sinyukwegi.
Kediké, I’ve never been so afraid. Will I be able to teach you to be a good person, before you start abusing this power of yours? Will this good upbringing be enough to keep you off of the path of your brethren?
I will protect you forever. I swore that. But there are a lot of people who think that you’re the one we need protecting from.
Kedi. You’re a good girl.
Please prove it to me.
You might have noticed me crying lately. I know you have, because you came up and hugged me and said “Yozimi.”
Oh, Kediké. How can I tell you that I’m crying because someone dear to me died?
I only just got the news from the homeworld. My cousin, my goto, Tharijuné, died. She was a bizaabgotojo just like yours, and she died in a spaceship crash.
Have I ever told you how I got my name, Kediké? Tharijuné and I picked our names together. Tharijuné and Tikkidové. Blue Flower and White Bird. To this world, Dove and June.
Maki wrote a tune that she sings to you, and I made up some words. It goes like this:
E mo’mo O!
EA mo’mo O!
Jotu mo’mo O!
You love to sing this song! You sing it to your nightlight all the time. You say, “Payato diyoozi^bicoo-sicoo^kixazi kiyaki! Payato diyoozi^bicoo-shishozi vivingigotogo!”
Are you singing this song for your gotogo, Kediké? Are you singing to them about how much we love you?
I will always take care of you, Kedi. I never saw myself as a bizaabgotojo, but here I am. Here we all are. In Tharijuné’s memory, I will care for you.
Sometimes you stare at the nightlight on the wall. Are you missing the stars?
Sometimes when you do that you cry.
Who did you lose, kediké? Were they very dear to you?
I can’t replace whoever it was. I can feed you and bathe you, and in time you may forget, but I don’t think you will. I think my little green girl will always remember her bizaabgotojo, forever and ever.
I hope that all of your gotogo have loving parents. Do you think that some of them are grown up already? Do you think that some of them are still frozen asleep, waiting for homes?
Dearest Kedi, may you always be loved.
Today you learned numbers! You learned all the way up to twelve- ti, pi, ki, ji, li, ri, fi, di, zi, ni, bi, tui! Go you! By next week, you should have learned how to count all the way to toui!
You also asked what kiya and kari meant. I told you about kiya, about hydrogen combusting in the depths of space, and kari, huge yet small orbs or rock reflecting light onto other orbs of rock. You were confused, but then I pointed up at our kari, the only one you know, and said the word again. Kari. Moon. You asked me, have I even been there? I said no, but maybe someday. Maybe someday.
Maybe someday you will go to the moon, my little child of the stars. Sleep tight.
Today you learned jisa, gisa, jisu, and gisu! I’m so proud of you! For instance:
Bizoopagoto jisuki-jipaki jisa!
Oh Kedi, I can’t wait for the day when you look back on your first words and remember them proudly. Still, you will always be my pagoto.
Well, Dear Kedi, really! I’ve decided to leave you this diary when you get older, so that you can understand where you come from and why you’re here.
Kedi, I don’t know how you do it, but every moment with you is special. The girls love you, Maki is charmed, and I suppose that I am too. I’d worry about them being jealous, but Kiya told you the same thing the other day. I don’t think you understood, but I know that you feel loved and special, and for now that’s all you need.
Someday you’ll have questions for us, and we’ll have to answer. Someday you’ll want to know why you have different skin than us, why your ears point back when ours go up. That day, we’ll tell you, and we’ll hide nothing, because we love you, our Kedi, and we want you to know who you are. Even if you aren’t like us, we love you anyways, bizoopagoto, because you are family. No matter what, you are family.
Kedi, Kedi, Kedi! That’s the only word you can say right now, but you say it all the time!
You love to romp and roam- just so long as one of us is around. The girls love you like a little sister, and they don’t care that they’re blue and you’re green.
I posted about you on the forums. You’re such a mess maker! The girls were so much better behaved than you… sigh.