Believe it or nor, I pretty much lived up to my commitments last night. I did get home, I got my meds, and I started writing. And while I only need about four hundred and seventy-five words to make it “Mission Accomplished,” that finished up the scene. For reals.
The word count is currently 6,616, which means it’s pretty much the Number of the Beast with a dependent. I probably won’t get to writing tomorrow, but I imagine this weekend will be a good one for that, and the next scene is going to be something I’ve never tried for this series–though in a way I have, but you just don’t realize it yet.
Up to this point Annie has learn a great deal about what the life of a Protector case worker is like, and what they actually do for their charges. But she’s about to learn more–
(The following excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Three: C For Continuing, copyright 2016 by Cassidy Frazee)
If the contract was enchanted Annie imagined there were other action built into it that may have compelled Kerry’s parents to sign without out having it looked at by a lawyer. And given there are other Normal parents who sign the contracts weeks before their children leave for Salem, it’s likely there’s some kind of effect that makes them feel comfortable signing. Annie was beyond the contact now and had one last thing she needed to know. “I still need to know one thing, but I don’t know if you can tell—”
Berniece smirked. “You’ll never know if you don’t ask.”
She pushed on now that she knew she could at least ask. “Your group develops psychological profiles on us. Helena told me she saw the report that was started based upon an interview I had the summer before I started, and Deanna told me she saw the report on Kerry.” She drew in a breath to clear her mind. “I can understand Helena seeing my report because it’s a given I was yellow flagged before entry—but there wouldn’t have been any reason for Deanna to read Kerry’s. She told me she saw it because she’s a coven leader, but—” Annie sat back and raised her head. “Deanna must have seen it because she’s a counselor, and that means what she saw was probably a psychological profile.
“Which means what Helena also read was a psych profile—at least it sounded that way based upon what I was told. And from what you’ve told me this morning, I wouldn’t be surprised to discover you have that report. And since you’re Kerry’s case worker, that means you have his.”
Berniece regarded Annie with open appreciation. “You’re correct on all those points. But the question remains: what is it you want to know?”
Annie intensified her gaze upon the case worker. “Based upon Kerry’s profile, do you believe he’ll leave home at some point?” She brushed several stands of hair from her face. “Since you have one developed you must have some assumptions about the possibility it can happen.”
Annie is asking for a peek behind the curtain, something that most of us never get. She’s had just a little of that, when Helena told her what part of her report said–and stung Annie with the “emotionally immature” line–and she’s heard a bit of Kerry’s from Deanna. This is the first time she’s asked for assumptions based upon those reports, and she digging into something about her soul mate that she herself has likely considered and wondered.
However, she might not like the answer–
Berniece sat in silence for a moment, looking at the floor as she appeared deep in thought. “Annie, what’s the one thing Kerry fears the most?”
She didn’t need to give the question much thought. “Abandonment.”
“That’s right. Based upon our profile that’s Kerry’s biggest fear. When he moved to Cardiff he felt somewhat abandoned by his grandparents because he lost contact with them—”
“I know.” Annie remembered the night after the Day of the Dead attacks when Kerry awoke in the middle of the night delirious and crying. That was when he told me that everyone had abandoned him, that no one loved him—that even she was gone—
Berniece nodded. “And our profile shows that over the years the lack of affection from his parents has led him to feel as if they are slowly abandoning him.”
Annie was confused by this information. “What does it mean?”
“It means he may not want to leave, because to do so is to admit that he hasn’t a family.”
“But—” Annie slid to the edge of her seat. “—he has me.”
Yes, he has you, Annie, but it’s not that simple, is it? If it were he’s probably walk into the room in his pajamas right now, wishing you a good morning as he scratches his groin. He has you, but only for most of a year, and that’s what makes a difference. And the reply to your comment is something you might not want to hear.
Now to continue into the next scene, and now that I think about it, we may see something else that’s never happened before–