FIVE DAYS LATER
I'm pacing. I am like those old cartoons of the expectant father in the waiting room running around smoking cigarettes, except I don't think people do that anymore. But what do I know? In my human life, I never got even close to fatherhood. Of course, hospitals and the like are nonsmoking these days.
And this is not a hospital. Master Taba has decided to see if, in his words, "you have borne fruit." I get the whole fertility and being fruitful and multiplying, but I have the strange image of Lightning giving birth to exotic crunchy fruits.
My mind is all over the place now. I can't focus. Any minute, I could learn whether or not i am going to be a father.
