The train rumbled along squealing and screeching tracks, the imperfectly laid and century old pathway signalling its weariness at still having to bear such a weighted burden.

The three linked subway cars that for the moment ran above ground were a third full; having left Sullivan Square with one more stop before the major line crossing intersection at North Station, home of the TD Banknorth Garden.

In the middle car in the joined parade, sitting in the first row of forward facing seating, were llhaesa and Saehressa, mother and daughter venturing forward into a new city with the same old purpose – a mother and daughter day in the city, doing whatever whimsical notion might seduce them during their city-spent day.

The symbolism and the reprising were obvious to both, what with memories of the excursions into Arrhazon City, with Saehressa, the proud mother and proud feminist, escorting her young child into and through the city as if she had equal right to explore its spectaculars or just the plain interesting.

The idea was llhaesa’s, and Saehressa had jumped at the opportunity to spend a day with her daughter, their first jaunt together in two decades.

Choosing conservative methodology, llhaesa drove Ronnie’s SUV – one of two, this one was llhaesa’s as Tim – to Sullivan Square, where they caught the Orange Line into the city, and to their initial destination, Faneuil Hall Marketplace, two stops beyond North Station, at State.

The weather was as one expected two days before Thanksgiving, a holiday with which llhaesa was accustomed, but that was new to the just arrived two months before Saehressa.

This was a new life for her, on a new world with a job, once again teaching music. Saehressa was to start the Monday following Thanksgiving, and even though she had yet to teach a class, she gave serious thought to remaining behind when her family packed up and headed back to Arrhazon, though she knew deep down she could not leave her family, even if the separation was only for eighteen months.

Mother and daughter wore jeans, that style of clothing an Earth original, and while they were de rigueur wear for llhaesa, Saehressa had already come to love them as well.

Both wore outerwear suited to the season, though this day featured bright sunshine. It was still only 8°C, and if out of the sun for any length of time, the cooler air became quite noticeable.

Llhaesa wore a forest green, woollen shell, down vest, with black hooded sweatshirt underneath, a dressed down look that was actually more reflective of who she was inside than the most fashionable wear that she was necessitated to wear the following night at the White House reception.

Saehressa wore a more traditional sleeved coat, mid-thigh length, and herringbone pattern grey wool flared toward the bottom, a coat she claimed as cosily warm.

Finally, Saehressa wore white and royal blue tennies, while llhaesa wore her favourite steel grey hiking boots.

Leaving the subway station, they made their way upward to the exit, heading for Faneuil Hall. Reaching the outlying plaza, the mother and daughter team made their way through the crowd, on into the first building, checking out the various foodstuffs offered, with llhaesa succumbing to the call of a fresh baked and hot pretzel, doused with yellow mustard.

“When I was pregnant with you, my dear daughter, I used to crave s’selhrsa, a baked good that was multi grain yet laden with decadent ingredients stirred in. That pretzel reminds me of it, though it is rather barren of added items!

“I’ve never heard of that before, dear mother! Why am I unable to picture s’selhrsa?

“They were sort of a fad, and by the time you were of an age to remember, no one sold them.

I have to admit that pretzel tempts. May I break off a piece?”

“Here, let me break one of for you!” Llhaesa pulled off one section of the pretzel and handed it to her mum, whose face immediately registered approval. “That is good, ‘essa!”

Llhaesa, her mouth full of pretzel and mustard, uttered, “MmImagree!”

After tasting various items in the Hall, their next stop was Downtown Crossing, which they reached by way of a short jaunt, again on the Orange Line.

There were times llhaesa loved to shop, and with her mother, with memories of her childhood strong, this proved to be such a time.

Llhaesa, thinking ahead, found a store with maternity clothes she actually liked, and decided to buy several items, necessitating two store bags to carry.

Stepping outside the store entryway, llhaesa stood momentarily stunned as a young man scooted off with her purchases and bag carrying her identification, credit cards, and cash. She took off after him, chasing him up the street.

What she did not see was Saehressa hot on her heels, and with their long legs, they eventually closed the distance, llhaesa grabbing the culprit by the back of his sweatshirt, finally tackling him.

Struggling to get away, the suspect writhed about, but llhaesa held fast, subduing him, and finally pulled him to his feet. Getting her first good look at him, she startled at seeing he was likely less than fifteen years of age. “who are you?” llhaesa asked, receiving no answer.

“Well, I am waiting. Who are you? Or should I go get a police officer to help us sort this out?”

With her mum standing by, llhaesa saw the young man’s face shift from defiance to fear. “My name is Casey.”

“OK… Casey, I am curious’ why the need for you to steal maternity clothing?”

“Maternity clothing! Is that what I took?”

“Yes it is, and you were caught by someone who is pregnant, and who is quite unhappy with you right now. You had better explain, and explain in detail, or you will have a date with the law, do you understand?” llhaesa artificially inserted a sternness in her voice that did not exist inside, for something there hinted at a reason that was not at all conducive to the well-being of this child.

Casey lowered his head, his eyes searching the pavement below him, his feet joining in pawing where he looked, as if scratching at something unseen on the cement surface. “I am homeless; my parents threw me out of their house.”

Both llhaesa and Saehressa saw the truth in his expression, and their hearts leaped out of their chests, intangibly embracing the adolescent.

Llhaesa finally spoke, her path clear. “You are no longer homeless, Casey. I would like to return you to your home, but I fear that solves nothing, nor would some foster care programme. You have a choice – come home with us, or I will notify proper authorities, because you should not be living on the streets, especially this time of year!

Why did your parents throw you out?”

“I told them I am gay.”

Emotion welled up inside llhaesa, and she could see her mum was right there with her in this regard. Saehressa spoke next, her heart setting the course she intended to take.

“Casey, how long have you been homeless?”

Saehressa and llhaesa could see him struggle with measurement of time elapsed, and Casey finally guessed “over a year.”

That was enough for Saehressa. “Llhaesa, I have no idea what the protocol is here, but this child cannot live on the streets! I intend to take him home, and he will live with me, until such time as this gets resolved.”

Llhaesa could see the determination in her mother’s eyes, and in truth, had her mother not laid claim to Casey, she was about to. In this case, now that her mum volunteered, llhaesa began to see some intriguing possibilities in this for Saehressa and for the child.

“Casey, this is my mother, Saehressa T’yaeli, and I am llhaesa t’yaeli. Living on the streets, you probably do not know a thing about us-“

“I know who you are,” he suggested, his voice replete with surety.

“OK, who are we then?” Saehressa challenged her would be protégé.

“You are them space people.”

“Space people, eh?” llhaesa felt amused by the reference. “How do you know this?”

“I see the papers at the newsstands, and I read them, too!”

“Would you go home with us, Casey?” Saehressa asked. “You do not have to, and we will not make you, but I do not wish for you to live on the streets. You… can help me, and I… can help you.”

“How can I help you?”

“I would like to get my own place to live, so that llhaesa’s mum Anita can have her home back, and I need someone around to help with the new home, to… take care of things, to watch over it.”

“You would trust me to do that, after I stole your bags?”

“I think what happened is explainable, though not excusable.” Saehressa sincerely replied. A police officer halted her comments, approaching the group of three asking if everything was all right.

“Yes, officer, it is,” llhaesa replied. Why do you ask?”

“Someone reported seeing a purse snatching, and this young man matched the description.”

“It might have looked like that officer, but really, I was dropping one of my bags, and my purse fell. This young man picked it up and brought it over to me.”

The officer looked the group over sceptically, but in the end had no cause to challenge their statement, and so he wished them well and took his leave.

“Wow, you didn’t have to do that for me.”

“No, we didn’t, none of us has to do anything for each other, Casey; but some of us do things for each other out of love, out of caring. Our love and caring is there for you to share, Casey, if you choose to come home with us.”