Sparky's Arc

Chapter 9 of 10

Melody Starling's voice rang across the field as guests poured through the open gates. Sparky cut a bright ribbon and struck a crystal gong. An octopus performer twirled on a glass stage while a moon-jelly dancer spun bubbles above the steps. But Sparky's eyes drifted to the long table near the path. It was empty. Only a single painted menu card sat there, showing fruits, breads, and steaming bowls that did not exist yet. Guests began to gather, sniffing the air, whispering. Sparky's chest tightened. He had built every welcome but forgotten the feast. He ran behind the trees to a small open-air kitchen he had framed days ago. The stove was cold. The shelves were bare. One cook, a quiet usher friend, waited with folded hands. Sparky lit the stove with a spark from his vest. He sent the usher to call every guest who could chop, stir, or carry. Soon hands of all shapes filled the pavilion. They peeled star-fruit, kneaded dough, and ladled glowing broth. Sparky carried tray after tray to the long table until it bent under the weight of color and steam. The guests cheered and sat down to eat. Sparky watched, breathing hard. The feast was saved, but the painted menu card showed one dish he had not made, and a small, uncounted creature at the table's end was still waiting, plate empty.