6
Alice was on her third movie when her growling stomach convinced her to take a break. It was already dark outside.
She followed the lighted walkway to the mess hall, her mind still in a bamboo forest under speckled light where her favorite Chinese heroine clung to one of the swaying thick green stalks and fought off her opponents with her free hand.
No good, Alice reminded herself. Marnie wouldn’t have a free hand. She needed both of them for flying. But she could copy some of the heroine’s kicks.
Alice slid a tray along the metal rails of the food line and thought about Marnie’s arms. They were clearly strong enough to keep herself aloft. But what about the rest of her body?
“Beans?” the server asked.
“Sure.” The man on the kitchen side of the food line asked her other questions a
