Trying morning today because stupid computer is being a pain in the butt, but I may have tamed the beast. Maybe. I’ll find out in a bit, I guess, but it’s likely it’ll keep frustrating me for another hour or so.
This was so unlike yesterday, which was nice and sunny and warranted getting out of the apartment and doing a little shopping. The shopping part sucked a lot when it came to finding shoes, as none of these damn stores carry anything in an woman’s 11 wide, so I’m pretty much wasting my time going in there to look. Note to DSW: you lost out on about a hundred dollars of sales yesterday because you continue to think everyone has a narrow foot. Get with the times, loser.
But the trip out to Lancaster was fantastic, and it was the first time in a long time I was flying down the road with the windows down–
I should point out that those pictures above were taken with a mobile phone while I was traveling at 70 mph/110 kph, while traveling in a straight line with no one near me. Don’t try that at home, kids, unless you’re professional. Like me.
I also managed to catch the first episode of Season 3 of Orphan Black, which was amazing as always, and made me feel sad for some of the seestras. Why do they torture my poor clone girls? Oh, wait: I do that to my characters, too.
Speaking of which . . . I wrote. I ended up producing fifteen hundred and fifty words, and finished the dream scene I’d started the other day. Remember how I said I’d likely end up with ten thousand words written after the first week?
I believe I left my kids in a hotel room in dreamland, and . . . well, let’s see what happened next.
(All excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Two: B For Bewitching, copyright 2015 by Cassidy Frazee)
“Obviously.” Annie swung her legs to the floor, stood, and made her way to the red curtains on Kerry’s side of the room. She spread the curtains, exposing the balcony beyond the closed French doors. “Look out here.” She opened the doors and stepped out on to the open space beyond the bedroom.
The balcony was large enough for two people to sit close using one of the small chairs set in the far corners. The space between allowed that same couple to stand close together—something that Annie and Kerry were used to doing. The both leaned upon the railing and examined their surroundings.
They were on the second floor of their hotel; there was another floor above them. Their balcony overlooked a large, enclosed courtyard mostly covered in shadow at the moment. The courtyard was empty, as were all the remaining balconies for the other rooms. All of the balcony doors were closed and the curtains drawn.
They were the only ones here; the only ones present within their private universe.
Most of the time they are alone, but like a lot of dreams, they also get instances where they are in a crowd with other people. Not this time, however. And there’s something else–
Annie looked up to the cloudless, slate gray sky. “This feels like we’re in Europe.”
“I think so, too.” Kerry laid his hand over Annie’s. “It’s the way this place looks. It doesn’t seem like it’s in England, though—” He looked to the girl at his left. “Probably mainland.”
“I agree.” She twisted her right hand around and grasped Kerry’s. “It’s lovely, wherever we are.”
“It does feel like a real place—” He smiled. “Doesn’t it?”
“It does. It also feels—”
“Like it’s not a real dream?”
Kerry searched his memory for any mention of instances where more than one person shared a dream vision. The books he’d read all thought his A Levels were thorough, but given that after his own experiences with dream visions, he’d gone over those chapters again before returning the books to the library . . .
He looked around as he sighed. “This is not happened before.” He looked over his shoulder into the room. “But you’re right: it feels more like something that’s going to happen to us instead of the last couple of dreams.”
Annie turned around, leaning against the railing as she peered into the room. “We should leave the room and see if there’s anything there.”
We know they’ve had the same vision, but they weren’t in it together at the same time–which may have been a bit strange if they had, and . . . we won’t go there. Oh, and as an aside: one day I will explain what Kerry’s first vision means, and why they had the same vision months apart. Because I always figure those things out.
Eventually they leave the room, but what they find isn’t what they expect . . .
“Thank you.” She headed straight for the door with Kerry close behind. She designed an image in her mind of walking through the door and out onto the south deck of her lake house, a place Kerry had yet to see in their dreams. She opened the door, but rather than finding a hallway—or the deck she visualized—there was a sunny, tree-lined yard beyond. She stepped through the door and into the yard, walking about four meters before she stopped to examined their surroundings. “This was not what I wanted—or what I expected.”
Kerry began walking around in circles, looking at everything. “What did you want?”
“The deck of my lake house.”
“I don’t see a lake—” He pointed from where they’d just entered this area. “—and given what you’ve told me, I don’t think this is your house.”
Annie turned and gave a slight gasp when she saw the house. “No, it’s not, but . . . I know this place.” She turned to Kerry. “It’s my grandparent’s house in France.”
Kerry well remembered Annie describing her time this house, located outside the town of Pocancy, in the Champagne region. She’d told him about her time there during a lull in their Guardian field operation, as well as telling him of another dream of hers . . . “This is pretty nice. I like the yard.”
“I love having trees around a house.” She did a slow pirouette, taking in the grounds. “I haven’t thought about this in some time.”
Some of us remember the discussion about the house in France, which sort of morphed into a discussion about Annie wanting to live there one day–and not by herself. As they walk through their dreamscape out to the dreamroad, the conversation turns back to that discussion, and the implications of what it means, and Kerry has to state the obvious . . .
Kerry noticed the use of the plural right away. “So this is where our house will be after we marry?”
Annie glanced out of the corner of her eye. “No: this is where we’ll make our home.” They stopped a couple of meters short of the road, with the gray, sunless sky beaming down on them. “Do you remember what else I said to you when we were on our field operation?”
There were a number of things Kerry recalled discussing while they were in Kansas City, but given their location, and Annie’s references, it wasn’t difficult to understand what she wanted him to remember. “What we talked about in our dream.”
“Yes. What we discussed outside your house in California.” She turned to him, never letting go of his hand. “You’ve lived in two houses, but you’ve never had a home.” She glanced at the ground for a moment. “That’s not completely true: you’ve had one near home—”
He was curious about this last statement. “Where?”
Yeah, where Annie?
“At the school—at Salem.” She slipped closer. “Do you know why? Because there you find love.” Annie held Kerry’s hand tight. “There is Vicky and Wednesday; there is Deanna and Coraline; there is Erywin and Helena.” She pressed herself against Kerry. “And I am there, above them all: your soul mate, the one who loves you most.
“I told you in our dream that a home is made of love, which is why you’ve never had a home. You have lived in California and you live in Cardiff, and while you have had some love in your live, you’ve never found in where you live. Your parents say they love you, but they don’t show it, they don’t offer the affection you require.
“I know this because I’ve been with you almost as long as they, and I know your wants, your dreams, your desires.” She kissed him, holding it for what seemed like forever. “We will marry—” Annie pressed her fingers against Kerry’s lips. “I know we are not supposed to speak of this, but here we are allowed to dream, are we not?
“We will marry, and we have a home. Maybe here, maybe in America, maybe in Bulgaria. I don’t care, as long as we are together. We will make that our home, because we will find love there. And we will say that to each other, every day, as I said I would do to you—and as I know you do for me.” She told both of his hands in hers and pressed them between their bodies. “Even when I can’t hear the words, I know you say them.”
He nodded slowly. “Every morning, and every evening. From now—”
“—Until the day you die?”
Kerry took a slight breath, ready to say the truth he’d held inside for many months now. “Until the day one of us dies.” He pressed his head against her shoulder. “That’s my promise.”
Annie held him against her. “I’ll hold you to that, love.”
Annie is not scared that talking about The Big M might be jinxing them in some way. She doesn’t care; she’s twelve, she’s a witch, she’s a hell of a sorceress who’s already racked up a body count, and she wants to give Kerry the love and affection tell him his parent are incapable of giving. It’s likely she understands this last because she’s heard Kerry speak of it enough that it’s become as much a part of here as it is him.
And Kerry is right there, promising to tell his Sweetie that he loves her every day . . . until one of them die. Yeah, a few people are going to read that line and say, “That could be tomorrow!” and start clutching pearls. He’s also twelve, just a quarter year into that age, hanging out in a dream with a girl he’s known most of his life, and while he admitted last year that it’s possible they could die at any time, he’s now pushing that thought aside. After all, Kerry’s been in the “I’ve cheated death” position three time in the last year, so he’s also developing that feeling kids his age get where they think nothing is going to happen to them.
Besides, His Dark Witch is gonna teach him to get those Morte spells up to speed while he teaches her to be a shapeshifter. These kids got life by the ass right now–
Then again, if anyone believes that, they’re likely in the market to buy a bridge.