Atlantic Crossing: Sleepy Time

Well, it wasn’t a big scene, which means I knew it wouldn’t talk long to write.  Which is why the scene I started yesterday is now complete.

For I have the evidence right before me.

For I have the evidence right before me.

It didn’t take long to get to the point.  In fact, it starts out with a distracting memory:

 

The following excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Two: B For Bewitching, copyright 2015, 2016 by Cassidy Frazee)

Kerry finished the last of his mango juice and set it aside for the hostess to take. “Won’t be long now.”

“No, not much longer.” Annie’s memory drifted back to their first flight to Boston on their way to their A Levels. She’d adjusted before whenever she’d crossed multiple time zones, but had never called it that: Mama had always given her something to drink and then told her to take a nap so she’d feel rested.

That was why their first time adjusting took her by surprise; she hadn’t expected the adjusting mixture to be cooked into their food. It was why she suddenly felt sleepy and she lay back in her chair and stared into Kerry’s eyes as hers closed, his face the last thing she saw—”

“Annie?”

She shook herself out of her trance and turned to Kerry. “Yes, my love?”

“Umm—” He pointed up at the hostess holding their adjustment mixtures. “It’s time.”

“Oh.” She giggled as she reached for the glass held in her direction. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s quite all right, Annie.” The hostess waited for both students to finish consuming their beverages before taking them with a smile. “I’ll shut off the lights now. Have a good sleep.”

“Thank you.” Kerry popped out of his seat and retrieved two pillows and blankets, handing one of each to Annie. “I’m all ready starting to feel this.”

“Me as well.” She stifled a yawn as the cabin went dark save for a few strips of illumination. “Are we still going to do this?”

“You know it.”

Annie released her seat belt and moved to one side of her wide chair. “Then we better hurry.”

Kerry fought not to yawn as he levitated himself over their jointed armrests and slid in behind her. Annie held up one part of the seatbelt as Kerry clicked the other into place, then he levitated over his pillow and blanket. While he put the pillows into position Annie set the blankets over them. At last they lay down together as they both pushed the chair the rest of the way down so it functioned as a bed.

Annie moved around until she was comfortable. “A bit snug.”

“Like we were in a sleeping bag.” This time Kerry couldn’t hold the yawn back. He pulled back her chestnut hair and kissed her just behind her ear. “Leka nosht, Annie. Obicham te.”

Annie slowly closed her eyes. “Good night, Kerry. I love you.”

Both fell into dreamless sleep as their flight continued eastward over the Atlantic—

 

In a way the scene is almost a throw away, in that it’s really not needed, and in the edits I may do exactly that.  But one of the reasons I wanted this in was to bring about a moment, one which started back in Berlin.  For when they left Germany everything seemed fine, but once they started coming out of adjustment, that’s when Annie encountered Kerry having the second of several dreams that would eventually lead up to the unveiling of one of his two Gifts.  They basically went from a time of happiness to a time of happiness to one where, over a period of time, some uneasy filtered in, and set itself up with a few of the other trouble that eventually came into their lives.

Now it’s a little more of the same.  They had a lot of happiness in the last couple of months on top of a few life-changing moments.  Now it’s time for home and a summer away from each other, and there is a certain amount of insecurity on both sides now, though Annie is better than Kerry at hiding these feelings.  They want this time together, even if they are deep in torpor for the next few hours.  At least they’re pretty certain no one is going to come along and separate them.

That’s why it feels like a bit of a throwaway:  what happens doesn’t actually do much to the story in terms of development.  But it’s a little more in that “character building” are I’ve discussed, where both my kids need a little comfort before leaving each other for a while.

After all, isn’t that something we all like now and then?

The First Farewells

It’s finally happening:  it’s time to say goodbye to Salem, and my kids are beginning that process.  I started it last night, but I didn’t get very far, mostly due to chatting with a friend for close to four hours about what’s happening this coming Monday, and showing off my new work shoe collection–yep, just like all the other girls, I am–I hit close to five hundred words.  Not much, but it’s a start.  And I was up at five-fifteen today, before starting this post, to add a few hundred more words here.  With that said the scene is right around seven hundred and fifty words in and there will be a lot more before it’s finished.

More scene, and maybe a few tears along the way.

What would you know, Ned?  You got your head chopped off.

What would you know, Ned? You got your head chopped off.

I’ll be leaving the apartment in about an hour, which means I need to get ready for my drive north to meet with a friend.  (It’s six twenty-eight in the morning as I write this, in case you’re wondering.)  With that in mind, I give you the scene, in toto, up to this point.

 

All excerpts, this page, from The Foundation Chronicles, Book One: A For Advanced, copyright 2013, 2014, 2015 by Cassidy Frazee)

Annie looked about her room before sitting on the edge of her bed. She started out the window into the garden beyond, then allowed her gaze to flit from place to place. She examined her wardrobe, then her dressing table and the jewelery case she’s brought with her and was leaving behind to be moved to her new B Level room along with the painting she did for Ostera currently hanging over the head of her bed.

She ran her hand over the comforter, taking in the softness. Annie also asked for this and her sheets to be moved to her next room as well. It was silly to think that a new set wouldn’t be any different than this set, but she’s grown comfortable with this set, and she didn’t want to loose it. And she’d found out that Kerry was doing the same: he’d said that he loved how it kept him warm on even the coldest night, and he wanted that for next year as well.

Annie stood and examined her luggage one last time before grabbing her purse and slung the strap over her left shoulder. She did one last slow pirouette, taking in everything with perfect clarity. She finally faced the door and sighed. “Goodbye—” She nodded twice. “It was good here.”

She headed out of the room and into the hallway, gently closing the door behind her. The hall was empty and silent, which she expected since most of the tower was now empty. The East Asian and Oceanic A and B Level kids departed about twenty-three hours last night, and the North and South American children had been filing out throughout the morning. Annie would be in the last groups leaving: those heading to Europe and Africa would leave the school this afternoon and depart tomorrow in separate flights after spending the night in Boston.

Annie didn’t have to fly back: as a Legacy she could leave this morning with one of the instructors, or even have her mother jaunt over and take her home. But she didn’t pick either of those options. Her choice for going home was simple . . .

She rounded the corner leading to the open area in front of the bathroom entrances and almost ran Kerry over as he nearly did the same. They both caught themselves, half-wrapping their arms around each other before there was an accident. “Sorry.” Annie looked down and smiled. “I didn’t see you.”

“I didn’t see you, either.” Kerry relaxed his embrace, but he didn’t let her go.

“I was coming to see you.”

“I was coming to see you.”

Annie tightened her embrace around Kerry’s arms. “You must be packed.”

“I am.” Kerry let himself get pulled closer to Annie. “Everything I want to send home in one spot, and the stuff to get moved labeled.”

“Painting and comforter?”

“Yep.”

“And you have your broom in your backpack?”

He chuckled. Over the last few weeks Nadine had taught both Annie and Kerry how to Hammerspace their brooms, and as they had done with everything else this last school year, they mastered it quickly. While Annie didn’t expect to have need of this to hide a broom, or something larger, on her person, Kerry said he’d use it so he could take his PAV home and do some flying during the summer holiday. The joke between them was that since he took his backpack everywhere, he was keeping his broom packed there. “Yes, I have it sitting in my backpack—right next to my computer.”

“At least you’ll always have it handy.” Annie wasn’t worried about Kerry flying once he was home. On their trip the weekend before he proved he could stay hidden an travel a few hundred kilometers without getting lost, and Vicky had already confirmed with local Foundation authorities in Wales that they might track him out and about some days.

They pulled each other tight and silently took in their surroundings. Nearly a minute passed while they stood quietly and looked about the empty first floor. Kerry was the first to speak. “I’m going to miss this place.”

Annie leaned against him. “I will, too. We grew up here, this last year.”

“Yeah.” He wrapped his left arm around her waist. “So much we learned.”

“Not just magic, either.” She kissed his cheek. “So much about ourselves, too.”

He kissed her back. “Yep.” Kerry hugged her against his body. “I really don’t want to go.”

 

You sounds like The Doctor there, Kerry, and considering he said, “I don’t want to go” on 1 January, 2010, you can rip off his quote, kid.  Or should I say, I can rip off his quote?

As a quick aside, today, 31 January, is Inspire Your Heard With Art Day.  I know where my inspiration to write about my kids derives from; perhaps you’ll read this and find inspiration for your heart as well.