People around me were getting up to leave, and also running toward the bathroom, but not making it in time. Puke, puke everywhere. Not me—I have a cast-iron stomach and sea legs. I finished eating, got some coffee and when I turned around a blond whirlwind ran across in front of me, yelling, “Come back! Here chickies!” and Jordan flew by, careening off tables and leaping over people’s feet. Ahead of him ran half a dozen little yellow chicks. I watched, amazed.
Steve staggered up beside me and got coffee. “I never want children,” he mumbled. Just then there was a humongous blast of thunder and all the lights blossomed and then everything went dark, dark and still. The ship slewed to the side, and chairs and people and food all went with it. Jordan ran back by, screaming “Wheee! This is fun
