The man in the wrap sat on the couch, spreading out his arms and legs so that he took up half the space. Had you looked hard enough, you could’ve seen right up his skirt. Rose did not look hard enough. The youth stood beside him, leaning against the armrest to his right. From the hallway, six others entered, all wearing white, some of them draped in what looked to be bedsheets knotted like togas. They placed themselves around the room like wilting flowers, languid and slightly off. When all the chairs were taken, the last one poured onto the floor, supine and slightly curved like a bright comma against the dark carpet. The couch remained empty beside the man. He smiled at each person in turn except the one beside him in the dinner jacket. Then he opened his arms, palms up, and brought his hands together as if beginning a prayer.

“Oh, my lovely swans, my sacred creatures, how lucky are we to be together for another day?”

They whooped in return, a sad echo of the war cry Rose remembered from her great-aunts. This sound was skinny by comparison. It didn’t have legs to move around the room.

He clapped. “Ho, ho, yes, my warriors, yes! Oh, that fills my heart with such joy!”

He placed his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. “We begin tonight the same way we begin every night, with appreciation. Tonight, I’ll ask our radiant Owl woman to start us off.”

He pointed at a figure in a lacy white sundress, her thin shoulders covered with a crocheted shawl of cream wool. Her yellow hair was twisted into messy dreads tied around her head, making her small skull look like a bobble on her thin body. She had a small tattoo on her neck that looked like a swallow, and several more taking flight down her arm. Around each ankle, she had tied what must have been the leftover wool from her shawl so that she wore short leg warmers.

She stood and wiggled her bottom, pointing her fingers down at the floor, as if she were an excited grade-schooler. “Well, as usual, I am eternally and meaningfully grateful to Chief for bringing us together and keeping us all safe and full.”

She couldn’t have been talking about their bellies being full, Rose noted. Everybody in the room, save for the Chief himself, looked like they must click and clack when they moved.

“I am grateful to my sisters, all these beautiful women, for their support and love.” She moved one stiff arm over the room to indicate the others in white, each of whom smiled or bowed her head, hands in prayer position as she did. “I am grateful for all Nam provides us, from help around the house to being such a bright spirit. They are such a gift.” She ended with her hand outstretched toward the youth, who did not respond in any way, eyes down cast, limbs perfectly still.