2001 A Blogging Odyssey

I show no shame in ripping off the title of one of my favorite movies and using it for my own.  But given this is post number 2001, what else am I gonna say?

How about “I finished scene two last night?”  Yeah, that’s a nice thing to say.  It saw me returning to form a little as I wrote eight hundred and sixty-eight words, and that’s close to nine hundred, and that’s almost a thousand, so maybe I’m starting to get back into the swing.  Maybe.  I have a TV recap to do tonight, so I’ll likely not get into the third scene until early Saturday morning.

Still, though, I finished this scene.

It only took four days, but I got it done.

It only took four days, but I got it done.

This scene is the flashback.  This is where we see what happens after those five words are spoken at the end of B For Bewitching, and some have waited–well, weeks, to discover what happened next.

And instead of talking about that, why not show it?

 

(The following excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Three: C For Continuing, copyright 2016 by Cassidy Frazee)

“Mom, Dad . . . I’m a witch.”

Kerry sat in silence for a few seconds waiting for the response he knew was coming. For the last month, since the night of the lighting of the Beltane bonfires, he’d played this scene out in mind, knowing what he was going to say and imagining what his parent would do and say. He’d expected them to appear shocked and find his comment ludicrous, to even wonder if he as suffering from a mental disorder.

He imagined the worst.

He did not expect for them to sit and stare at him in silence.

His eyes shifted from her father to his mother. “Guys?”

Louise Malibey was the first to break the silence. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m a witch.” He glanced at Ms. Rutherford on his right, who nodded for him to continue. “I can do magic.”

His father, Davyn Malibey, cleared his throat. “You mean like what Davie Blane does?”

“No, dad—” Kerry shook his head. “He’s an illusionist. I’m a real witch: I do real magic.”

“I just don’t understand—” Louise’s appearance had moved from confused to one that was bordering on annoyed. She turned her attention to Ms. Rutherford. “I though this was about something important?”

Ms. Rutherford raised a skeptical eyebrow. “This is important, Mrs. Malibey. This is your son’s life we’re discussing.”

“Are you—?”

Davyn held up a hand before his wife could say anything further. “If this was true, shouldn’t you be a wizard?”

“No, Dad.” Kerry sat back, now a bit relaxed. “That’s a word a bunch of dudes made up a few hundred years back because they didn’t want to share the same designation with women. As far as practitioners of The Art—that’s how you really refer to magic—as far as they’re concerned, you’re a witch whether your a girl or a boy. Same with sorceresses: it’s the same word for either gender.”

“Sorceresses?”

Ms. Rutherford picked up on the manifesting tone in Louise’s voice, and felt having Kerry give as much information as quickly as possible to be the best course of action. “Kerry, why don’t you tell your parents what you actually do at school.”

 

Yeah, Kerry, why don’t you rush over all the black magic shit and tell them about the school work your parents haven’t asked you about all the other times they could have asked you.  You have to figure that Kerry knew this was going to be a bit difficult to get his parents to understand, given they’ve shown zero interest in his school work up to this point, so it’s a a bit of an uphill battle for him.

Do his parents want to hear about classes?  Believe it or not–

 

“Yes—” Louise’s voice had suddenly become far move restrained. “I’d like to hear this.”

“I’m certain of this.” Ms. Rutherford turned to her charge. “Kerry?”

Davyn spoke up while Louise sat quietly. “Yes, what do you do, son?”

“Well—” He ran his hand over his thighs as he leaned forward. “I’ve taken history, math—um, algebra and geometry—basic and earth science as well as botany. I’ve had two years of astronomy where we’ve learned more math. And we’ve taken self defense classes, too: I’m actually taking the advanced class, and probably will until almost the end of school.

“But the real reason I’m there is to learn how to craft magic. I’ve taken classes in normal spells, in Formulistic Magic—that’s really chemistry with magic—in transformation magic, and in sorcery. And in those first three, those are a few of the advanced classes I’m in. I also get special tutoring in sorcery, and I tutor someone in transformation magic.”

Kerry moved on quickly so he didn’t have to explain the special tutoring situation. “I’ve also learned how to apply magic to what I learned in botany and in my self defense class, so it’s possible to change things there with a bit of crafting.

“Also, I fly. I’ve taken two years of flying, and I’ll start my third when I return—”

“Flying?” Louis seemed puzzled by her son’s comment.

“Yeah, Mom: flying.”

“With what?”

“With a broom.”

Both parents were surprised by this, though Louise was able to respond the quickest. “A broom? Like a witches broom.”

Kerry shrugged. “Well—”

Davyn found his voice. “Like a Harry Potter broom?”

“No, nothing like that. These are—” He moved his hands about like he was grabbing the words out of the air. “It’s like most of a bicycle frame without the wheels. It’s made out of carbon filament, and there’s a seat and a control HUD like you have—”

“Stop. Just stop it.”

 

Well, that certainly sounds like it’s gonna be good.

This part is gonna get farmed out over the next three days, because it can.  About a third of it is down today, and the last part of this get blogged out on Sunday, which gives me time to write more on Saturday and Sunday.  It’s my hope I can always stay a few days ahead of the post so that, when it’s time to put a post out, I have something to excerpt.

In the meantime I’m probably gonna Gish Gallop out a bunch of recaps that I’ve written in the last few weeks, just because I can, and it’ll get me caught up on the stuff I normally reblog anyway.  Look for that stuff to start blowing up in your email box today.

Needless to day, the next few days are gonna get interesting . . .

The Midnight Window: Plans of Future Past

It’s been a good morning, though I could have done with a bit more sleep.  Hey, you can’t always get what you want, right?  Since it’s a long weekend I can nap whenever I feel it’s necessary.  Until then, I just keep plugging words into the right places.

Rocking out to Domino as I go about my day.

Rocking out to Domino as I go about said plugging.

Chapter Thirty-four is finished due to plugging in one thousand and twenty-five words to the chapter.

Right here's the proof--more or less.

Right here’s the proof–more or less.

Now all that remains is Chapter Thirty-five and four scenes, maybe six thousand words total, two of which will be “The End.”  One more scene in the Sea Sprite Inn–which may or may not be needed, I’ve yet to decide–one on the plane, one at the airport in Berlin, and the final one at Kerry’s house.  I’m actually considering moving the first scene of Chapter Thirty-five to the plane simply because there’s something I want to do, and having everyone at the plane makes that thing happen easier, so that may be what happens.  As soon as I start writing, I’ll know.

If that is the case this could be the last scene at the Sea Sprite.  And remember that thing that Annie wanted to discuss?  Well . . .

 

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

Kerry crossed the room and sat on the bed as Annie asked. He watched her as she went over to her bag on the luggage stand, opened the bag, and unzipped one of the compartments. Her body shielded what she was removing, but upon turning it was easy enough to see, for she was holding a large book bound in a plain white cover. She floated the book in his direction and waited until it was nearly in front of him before she moved towards the bed.

He kept his eyes focused on the book as it came to a stop before him. “Is this what I think it is?”

 

Yes, Kerry:  it’s exactly what you think is it.  And is there a reason this book is coming out?  Sure there is, and Annie’s going to tell you–

 

Annie didn’t answer the question: rather, she began speaking as she climbed on to the bed. “The Sunday after your birthday I wrote to my mother and asked if she’d ever shown her wedding book to Papa, and if it was common for wives to do so after they were married. A few days later she wrote back and told me that, yes, she had shown her book to Papa—

“My mother and father were married 20 June, 1997. My mother wanted to be married near the first day of summer because it’s considered an auspicious moment when one marries at anytime on or close to a solstice point. They graduated in 1994, did their Real Live Experience the following year, and were invited in for a year of the school’s Continuing Educational Program before leaving in ‘96. Since that counted as two years of college, they then went off to Uni in the fall and finished another year while Mama planed for their marriage. They finished Uni the next year and graduated right before they celebrated their first anniversary.

“After that they settled to Pamporovo full-time and built the main house; it was finished in October, and they were all moved in before winter hit.” A sheepish look came over Annie’s face. “That’s where I was conceived.”

Kerry touched Annie’s hand. “Right around Christmas, if my math is right.”

She nodded. “Mama told me that it likely, um, happened right at Christmas. She told me she was trying to start a family, and conceiving a child at that time—”

“Is considered auspicious?”

“Obviously: look how I turned out.” After they both giggled Annie continued. “So on their next anniversary Mama was pregnant with me, and that would be their last one with just them together. Papa treated her to a spa treatment at one of the hotels in town, then they jaunted into Sofia, saw a movie, and had a romantic dinner. She wrote that it was one of her best days ever.

“After they returned home they visited what was going to become my nursery before heading off to bed. She wrote that they didn’t go to bed right away: she pulled out her book and showed it to Papa, showing him everything she’d planed from the time she was a little girl until even a few days before the wedding. That was—” Annie blushed slightly. “That was when she picked out names for her children.”

“She knew what she wanted.” Kerry squeezed Annie’s hand once more. “Like mother, like daughter.”

“Um, hum.”

“Was your name in the book?”

“She told me I was at the top of the girl’s list.” She chuckled softly. “She said she told Papa that as they were starting a family, and she didn’t believe they would ever not be a couple, she saw no harm in sharing those memories with him. She also wrote that while it isn’t that common for wives to do this, once you know you’re in a relationship that will last forever, there’s no harm.”

 

Now you know so much more about Annie’s family:  their schooling, their marriage, and the, um, “special Christmas” they had in 1998.  Just think of all the times now Annie will be down in the family room, look over at the door leading to her parent’s bedroom, and thing, “Yep.  That’s where I was made.”  Not that she probably didn’t know.  Then again, her mother has probably known for at least three years that Annie had the lake house built for one reason in mind, and she sort of shakes her head whenever she looks up towards the loft.  And now that she’s met Kerry . . . probably a bit of face palming now and then.

It’s a given that I know when Annie’s parents were married, because–

I have a time line for everything.

I have a time line for everything.

And if you notice there’s an end date on their marriage:  15 November, 2126.  That means, according to the calculation determined by Aeon Timeline 2, they remain married 129 years, 4 months, 3 weeks, and 5 days.  When we talk about the longevity of witches, there’s a prime example right there.  And you can guess their marriage ends because one of both of them die, which means both of them are over a hundred and forty when one of them passes beyond The Veil.

Now, as far as their school time together–

I have it right here.

I have it right here.

Things get a bit interesting.  Jessica, Trevor, Mathilde, and Matthias were all older students when Pavlina and Victor started school, and Maddie and her now-deceased husband were only a year old.  Ramona and Coraline were only a year younger, and Adric and Holoč a couple of year behind them.  We can also see that Harpreet entered Cernunnos Coven the year after Holoč, and you have to wonder if C Level Holoč showed the same welcome to B Level Harpreet when she first arrived on the second floor.  And Isis came on to the first floor of Cernunnos Coven at the same time Pavlina and Victor were doing their only years of the school’s Continuing Education Program, so it’s possible the may have encountered the future Chief of Security for the school while they were essentially graduate students.

In case you’re wondering about the above line colors, they correspond to covens.  Red is Cernunnos; yellow is Ceridwen; sea green is Blodeuwedd; orange is Åsgårdsreia; and blue is Mórrígan.  Yes, Erywin and Helena are covenmates with Maddie, which is likely another reason why Helena was ready to kill her when she found out she was a Guardian mole.

Now, why is Annie showing Kerry her book?  There is an excellent reason for this:

 

She gentle lay her left hand upon the cover of the unopened levitating book. “As I see it, my love, we’ve been married for thirteen years, and I believe we’ll be together for the rest of our lives.” She slipped her right hand out of Kerry’s and set it over his chest where the personal medical monitor set. “Like you pointed out, we’re joined in more ways than one, and I have no fear you’ll ever take up with someone else.”

He placed his hand over her chest as well. “I wouldn’t leave, ever.”

Annie nodded once as she and Kerry set their hands back to their laps. “In five years we’ll be eighteen—well, you will: I’ll be eighteen in a little over four, but . . .” She retook his left hand in hers. “By then we’ll have graduated from school and have finished our Real Life Experience, and if we’re asked back for CEP studies, I want us to return as a married couple.

“I want to show you everything I’ve dreamed about and planed for the last seven year. I want you to see my sketches, my dress designs, the first drawings I made of the lake house—”

“And the names of our children?” A broad grin spread across Kerry’s face.

“I don’t have those—yet.” Annie’s face broke out with a smile as well. “Also, I want a June wedding: like my mother, I want to be married as close to the solstice as possible; I want the moment to be auspicious for us as well.

“But there’s another reason I’m doing this: there are some things in which I want you to have a hand as well. I told you about the rings I’ve designed, and I want you to see them so—” She rested her head against his shoulder momentarily “—you can have your input. While the things in her are my plans and dreams, there are a few items for which you should have some say” She turned a coy look in his direction. “It’s only fair.”

Kerry felt his eyes misting over again and he put a stop to it right away: he didn’t want tears to fall into Annie’s most prized book. “I’m honored you trust me with this.”

“If I can’t trust my husband, who can I trust? Come, my love—” Her eyes twinkled in the darkness as she flipped the book open. “We have a wedding to plan.”

 

“We have a wedding to plan.”  And right there, Annie is letting her soul mate know there’s no more screwing around:  in five year’s time there’s gonna be wedding bells, and they’re gonna ring in June.  She’s always got her eyes on the prize, and the prize involves getting hitched to the Ginger Hair Boy.  Though you have to wonder if she starts putting names in the baby section if she’ll tell Kerry, or if she’ll ask for suggestions.  Or if she’ll say something like, “My love, we need to pick to baby names,” and wait for him to ask why.

Yeah, I think that’s the end of the Sea Sprite until next year, because anything else in that building is anticlimactic after that last statement.

Don’t worry:  they’ll be back next year . . .

The Calm Before the Light: The E And A

The Cold Saga continues with one of the worst nights of sleep I’ve ever had put behind me.  I was up and down through most of the night until about two forty-five, and then I just seemed to lay on the bed in a stupor until the alarm went off at five-fifteen.  All of this means getting through today is gonna suck, and I’ll be lucky not to nod off at least once or twice while fighting throughout the day to stay awake.

"I've written a little bit here, so . . . just a quick nap and I'm ready to go again. I think. Zzzzzzz."

“Getting through the day hasn’t been hard.  I’ve done a lot in the last–twenty minutes.  Now for a nap.”

On top of all that I feel the cough coming on, which my body seems to wants in a bad way, and I really don’t want that because chest congestion takes its good, sweet time getting out of my body, and I’d rather avoid that since I just got over a cold two months ago.  I’m keeping my fingers crossed I don’t have the same thing happen this time.

But that’s for another time and place.  For the moment were back in Salem in March, 2013.  And it’s getting real.

I managed to write a lot more than I expected:  a little more than double from the night before.  It was actually one thousand, one hundred, and eleven words:  1, 111.  And it was all about something that only a few people have seen in print:  Kerry’s E and A.  He’s the only one who knows it, and before a few moments earlier he couldn’t discuss the matter.  Now he can, and while this doesn’t go into the same details as the E and A from the first novel, you get the idea.  In fact, you get a bit more than what happened in his E and A . . .

 

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

Kerry waited for everyone standing around the sofa to return to their chairs before telling his story. “When I did my E and A it started pretty normal, then The Phoenix brought up my relationship with my mother, which . . .” He glanced over to Annie. “Isn’t all that good. Annie knows what I mean; she heard about a few things that happened over the summer.

“Anyway, we eventually ended up back at my old house in California. She kept going on and on about my relationship with my mother, and how a lot it was bad ‘cause—” A pained look crossed Kerry’s face. “I’m sorry, I’ve never told anyone about this; even Annie doesn’t know some of this stuff.”

“It’s okay, Kerry.” Erywin slid to the edge of her chair as her tone became soft and warm. “You’re with friends, people who love you. No one is going to judge or think less of you.”

He closed his eyes and nodded. “I know.” He looked around the room as he spoke, though he didn’t meet anyone’s direct gaze. “My mother used to make it clear that she was disappointed she didn’t have a girl. She used to take jabs at me all the time. Whenever my hair started growing out it’d get curly, and she’s say it was so pretty that it was wasted on me, that it should have been a girl’s hair. I have long eyelashes, and she’d tell me that girls would kill for eyelashes like mine. A couple of years ago, when kids at school started having trouble with their skin, mine stayed clear, and she’d comment about how girls would love to have skin like mine and it wasn’t fair that all I ever did was wash my face and nothing else.

“The worst, though—” He glanced upward as he sighed heavily. “There were a few times when she came right out and told me that she was sorry she didn’t have a girl, that I was ‘too complicated’ and that if I’d been girl she could relate to me better.” He looked upward again as his eyes began to mist over. “Once she even told me that she was sorry she had me, and it would have been better if I hadn’t been born.”

Everyone in the room fell silent while Kerry leaned into Annie, who wrapped her arm around his shoulders and held him tight. She whispered something to him, words only they could hear, and ever few seconds he’d nod and sigh, only sniffing back a few tears near the end. Annie kissed his cheek as she sat up and returned to this story. “The Phoenix knew this—” He saw her toss her head back-and-forth in a playful way. “—and as we got into the discussion, she—” There was a second or two of throat clearing. “She changed me. She showed me what I would have looked like had I been the girl my mother wanted. I saw my reflection in the window of our kitchen, and—” He chuckled for the first time since entering the library. “I was that girl from my rune dream, the one who showed up in these dreams.”

 

I have stated on many occasions that a lot of the things that happened to Kerry happened to me, including shit my mom told me.  But everything Kerry mentions in the forth and fifth paragraphs of the preceding except I heard from my mother.  All those things, even once being told that there were times she wished she hadn’t had me.  Now, while she actually didn’t come out and say if I’d been a girl she could relate to me better, but more than a few times she said if I were “more like your sister” it would be easier, because then she’d only have to deal with two girls in the house.

But all the stuff about my hair, my eyelashes, my skin–that went on well into my late teen years.  It was really bothersome to hear those things, too, given I was already going through gender dysmorphia and every time I’d hear that shit I’d want to scream out about how I wished it were true, too.

Now, does this mean Kerry has gender dysmorphia as well?  No, it doesn’t.  He’s just heard the same crap I heard.  And near the end of the E and A he made his decision:

 

Erywin smiled back, hoping to keep Kerry in an upbeat mood. “What happened after that? After she changed you?”

“Ah, well—” Kerry began to come down a little from his current high, but not down to the levels of sadness he showed at the beginning of his tale. “She—The Phoenix—she said she could go back in time and fix it so I’d had been born that way, that things could then maybe be better with my mother, and that after I left the E and A no one would ever know I’d ever been Kerry: I’d be someone else—I guess whatever name my mother would have given me if I’d been a girl.” He lay his head towards his right shoulder. “Obviously I didn’t do that.”

“Why didn’t you?” Annie retook his hand, which she’d released when she’d hugged him moments before. “Why didn’t you change?”

He turned to his soul mate. “Because of you, Annie.” The smile began returning to his face, touched with just a hint of sadness. “Even though I didn’t know everything about you at that moment I knew I’d made a friend in you, and I didn’t want to lose that. I knew if I changed I could lose you, and everything—” Tears began leaking slowly down his cheeks. “—everything we’d done the week before, and all the stuff we might do in the weeks to come—” He lowered his head as he sobbed a couple of times. “It would never happen. And I didn’t want that at all.”

Of all the people in the room, it was Annie who appeared the most surprised. The shocked look on her face remained in place for nearly fifteen second as she carefully regarded the boy who meant so much to her before she turned to look at the spirit watching his confession in silence.

The Phoenix didn’t need to hear Annie’s question, for she saw it on the girl’s face. “I never pushed him one way or another: the final decision was all his.”

She turned back to Kerry blinking the last of the tears from his eyes. “Please, my love—” She threw her arm around him and whispered in his ear. “Hold me: I don’t want to faint in front of everyone.”

“Don’t worry, Darling.” He placed his arms around her and pulled her close. “I won’t let you fall.” He looked up at The Phoenix. “Was it because of this I couldn’t tell anyone about my dreams?”

 

Imagine you’re a thirteen year old girl witch, and you just heard your boyfriend say that he chose to remain as himself because after a week with you, he’d rather keep you as a friend instead of maybe finding happiness with his family.  We know Annie gets those moments where the emotions overwhelm her and she grows light-headed and even faints now and then, and this is one of those moments.  Kerry chose her over his family, over his mother, and Fainting Time is right there with Annie.  And this was before he remembered everything about Annie, so . . . they’ll discuss this matter later, but Kerry decided, in front of a powerful spirit, and Annie was really the most important thing in his life, and he wasn’t letting it go.

Kerry brings up the question that leads us to an answer about why he couldn’t tell anyone what was happening to him.  And The Phoenix does have the answer–

 

She regarded him coldly. “Yes. You’ve already figured out in the last year and a half since our talk, there are parts of the E and A that you can remember and mention—”

“Like the part about making new chapters.”

“Yes. There are always little fragments of our talk that remain with you, but the E and A as a whole is a foggy memory, and there are some parts that are just impossible to recall. Like your transformation: that was one of those things I didn’t want you to remember and discuss, because I was afraid you’d obsess over what had happened to you. And I couldn’t have that.” She shrugged.  “But I thought that because of what was happening with you now, you’d somehow break through the blocks I’d put in place, much like you broke through the blocks you put around your own memories.” She shook her head. “Like I said, I’m not always right.”

“But what is going on with me?” Annie leaned against him as he turned to the adults in the room. “What do you know?”

 

Now we know what happened in that meeting, and we know why Kerry was unable to talk about it completely.  What remains is the final question–

What the hell is happening to him?

Yule Time Tea Time

Yes, I know:  late, late, late.  No, really, it is late.  It’s like almost one PM, or thirteen on the clock, here, and I’m just getting to this.  Why so late?  Because I have like no energy.  I spent a lot of time just napping and stuff yesterday, and this morning . . . just can’t focus.  Every little thing pulls me away–like the pain in my left shoulder that came back yesterday.

But I’ve done stuff, too.  Like . . . you’ll see.

First, though:  the writing.  Between last night and this morning, twelve hundred and seventy words went down.  The Christmas tea party is over, and well, Annie had questions, right?  Lots of questions.  But what are her answers?

 

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

Annie waited for nearly twenty minutes before broaching a subject that had been on her mind since returning home. “May I ask for something?”

Pavlina set down her tea. “Is there something you’d like from the kitchen?”

“No, Mama, thank you. I had something else in mind.” She looked from her mother then to her father. “If I may—”

Victor nodded. “Certainly, Nini. Speak whatever’s on your mind.”

She knew she’d not have a problem with that, as that was her intention. “I’d like to buy either a laptop or a phone.”

Both parents glanced across the table before her mother spoke. “Why do you need one, Annie? You can use my laptop most of the time.”

“I know, Mama, but . . .” Annie cleared her throat and kept her tone reasonable. “I feel it’s time I have a computer of my own—or, if nothing else, an iPhone like—” She caught herself before she said, “Kerry,” and went with the far more generic expression. “—the other kids at school.”

Again Pavlina and Victor looked at each other across the dining table, neither speaking a word, and again it was left to Pavlina to answer. “I’m not certain you need a mobile, dear—” She glanced out the large window to her right. “Or a computer.”

A puzzled look dashed across Annie’s face. She expected her parents to ask a question or two, but she didn’t expect her mother to seem reluctant to commit to the idea. Annie moved on to the next part of the process— “I wouldn’t expect you to buy either for me; it’s best if I pay for this out of my trust.” She turned towards her mother, a slight smile upon her face. “All you have to do is pay for it then take the money from my—”

“No.”

For a moment Annie was taken back by her mother’s single-word comment. “What do you mean, no?”

 

Yeah, mom, what do you mean by “no”?  This is something Annie’s not heard much in her life, or at least not this definitively.  Keep in mind the year before it was, “I wanna buy Kerry a broom,” and mommy bought the thing and took the money out of Annie’s trust fund.  Suddenly Mama’s putting down the hard line, and Annie wants answers.

 

“I mean no. I mean you I don’t believe you require a computer or a mobile right now.” Pavlina raised her cup to her lips. “That should answer your question.”

Annie wasn’t about to take her mother’s answer as the final answer. Though she was educated and cultured, she wasn’t above performing the same action as teenage girls everywhere: she turned to her father. “Papa, I—”

Victor was ready for his daughter’s tactics, however. “I agree with your mother on this matter, Annie. You have a computer terminal at school, and your mother has a laptop here you can use when absolutely necessary.” He took a moment to enjoy a bite of banitsa before bringing up this last point. “As for needing a mobile—it’s not as if there are a huge number of people with whom you need to speak, so again, the need for a mobile—”

“What do you mean it’s not as if there’s anyone with whom I need to speak?” She hadn’t meant for her tone to come off sounding as heated, but she knew full well that they knew there was someone with whom she wished to speak . . . “You should—”

“I do know, Annie.” Pavlina set both hands palm down on the table as focused on her daughter. “We know exactly why you want these: you want to be able to speak with Kerry. Either you’re going to call or text him—or, if you have a computer, you’ll Skype him so you can speak face-to-face, more or less.” She shook her head. “If I thought you were going to use either for something other than speaking to—” For a moment Annie thought her mother was going to say “that boy”, but she didn’t. “—Kerry, then I might consider your request.

“However, I don’t believe that to be the case. I feel the only reason you a computer or mobile is so you can spend this upcoming summer holiday chatting away with your Ginger Hair Boy. Isn’t that so?”

 

So Annie’s parents are totally hip on the reasons why Annie wants this:  they just aren’t down on given them to her.  Or letting her buy them.  It seems like Pavlina has visions of her little girl sitting in front of a computer screen all day long during the summer chatting up her boyfriend–who she’s careful not to call her boyfriend, at least in front of her husband.  Even though you know they both totally know.

It’s also nice to know that Annie isn’t above doing the old, “If one parent says no, see what they other says,” trick.  Teenagers be teenagers, even if they’re witches.

Finally Annie gets right to the exact point of why she wants to have this contact with her soul mate:

 

Annie nodded. “I want to be able to speak with Kerry directly starting this summer. He has to come out to his parent after we go home—”

“As always happens with witches from Normal backgrounds.”

“It’s not going to be easy for him, Mama.” Annie leaned towards her. “His parents aren’t like either of you: they don’t understand him, they don’t show him any affection—”

“Thank you for saying we do those thing for you.” Victor smiled across the table at his wife. “It’s so rare one hears these things from their children.”

Pavlina smiled back. “Very true, my darling.”

Mama; Papa.” Annie knew her parents were stalling, trying to deflect the conversation away from the current discussion. “I want to be there for Kerry this summer. I want him to be able to speak with me quickly, and not have to rely on sending as letter and waiting three days for a response.” She changed her tone so as not to be so stern. “Please, Mama? I don’t want Kerry to feel alone.”

Pavlina slowly drew in a breath, scrutinizing her daughter the whole time. “I know you’re not going to want to hear this, but you need to understand this: you can’t always be there for the one you—” She caught herself before substituting the correct word for another phase. “—care about. This is most true about Normal witches who come out: they don’t always have an easy summer following their announcements, and what follows is something they must face alone.

“And as painful as it seems, you can’t be there for Kerry. You can help to a certain extent, but you can’t be his lifeline, Annie. You can’t always be there to rescue him; you can’t help ease his discomfort.” She shook her head just enough for Annie to notice. “And even if you had some way of maintaining constant contact with him over the the summer, it won’t always be enough.” Pavlina poured more hot water into her cup and set her tea ball inside to seep. “He has the face these things alone; he has to decide for himself what path to follow.” She place one hand over the other and set them in her lap. “Just as you do with him now: you let him learn these things on his own.”

The last thing her mother said made Annie regard her with cold reflection. The reasons given to Annie concerning not getting a phone or computer could have boiled down to, “Because we said,” but her mother took the reasons a little further and gave the exact reason: You can’t be there for Kerry. You can’t be there to help him.

Even then there was more to the statement, and her mother made certain Annie was aware of this fact.

 

What seems to be at work here is Annie’s parent know things are often hard for witches from Normal families, and Kerry will likely not be an exception.  But there are things said, things hinted at, and when Annie goes to her room at the end of this scene she begins to wonder things . . .

Two scenes down, two to go:

Keeping the words coming even when it's not easy.

Keeping the words coming even when it’s not easy.

Tomorrow we get a peek at Annie’s house–no, not the lake house:  you’ve seen that.  Her parent’s house.  And it’s really a treat . . .

Fumblings Before the Questions

When writing you some times discover that things aren’t going to come as easy as you want–particularly when you’re tired and stressed out.  I know this is gonna sound crazy, but that’s been me the last couple of weeks.  A lot of it is work related:  some of it is due to needing to pay my quarterly taxes and discovering I might fall just a little short of where I wanted to be payment-wise.  (Just so you know, I won’t end up short.)

I actually fell asleep twice during the afternoon yesterday for about forty-five minutes at a time.  It’s my body telling me, “You need rest,” and I was trying to get it.  I also ate a lot of chili, which can’t have been good for my waistline, and I was paying for it a little last night.

So when I finally did get around to writing It wasn’t a lot–about seven hundred sixty total, and I pushed the scene up over a thousand words.  However, I did hit my mark of one hundred and sixty thousand words in the novel–at which point I called it a night.

It was also a good point to end the story.

It was also a good point to end the story.

What was the gist of what was written?  We know Annie’s dad was somewhere he shouldn’t have been, and that’s where the action picks up–

 

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

Victor Kirilov appeared humbled by his daughter’s remarks. “I didn’t think you’d mind. I apologize.”

“Well, now that you’re here—” She motioned for her father to remain sitting. “I’ll be out in a moment.” She entered her bathroom and used the toilet, thinking all the while about her father. There was little conversation about school: the proceeded directly to the public jaunt stations so they could return home, then she went straight to her room, changed into her night clothes, took her adjustment mixture, and was asleep in minutes.

It didn’t require a huge stretch of the imagination to understand why her father was there. She was fully aware he wanted to have a short talk—and to discuss a matter that didn’t require her mother. Annie finished and washed her hands, preparing for what would come next.

She returned to her sitting room: her father was at the table with two steaming mugs before him. He pushed one across the table as Annie took the empty chair. “I brought tea. I though you might enjoy some when you woke up.”

Annie wrapped her hands around the mug. “Thank you, Papa.” She waited a moment, warming her fingers against the ceramic, then stood next to the table with her arms spread.
Victor stood and gave him daughter a hug. “Welcome home, Anelie.”

“Thank you, Papa.” The last time Annie hugged her father was the first day she left for Salem. As she’d grown older she’d found it less necessary to have physical contact with her parents, but now she felt a hug was needed—if for no other reason than to show her father she still loved and cared for him. “I’ve missed you and Mama.”

“And we’ve missed you as well.” He waited for her to sit before taking his seat. “It will be good to have you home for these next two weeks. And your grandparents are looking forward to seeing you.”

She finally took a sip of tea. “I’ve been waiting for that since Mama wrote and said we were getting together.”

“Yes, but we’re meeting on Christmas Eve instead of Christmas.” He slowly tilted his head a little to the right. “We all agreed it would be easier to get a room, and that everyone could spend more time together.”

“I agree.” Annie lightly tapped the rim of her mug. “That also gives us more time to spend together on Christmas.”

“That’s what our parents thought: as much as they want to see you, they thought the three of us should spend Christmas together as a family.” Victor waited a few seconds before staring across the table. “How is school?”

Annie stared at the surface of her drink. Now it begins— “It has been good. I can’t believe a year and a half is already over.”

He sat back in his chair and folded his hands across his stomach. “It was like that for your mother and me: one day we were walking through Founder’s Gate on our way to our E and As, and then you’re finishing your C Levels and half your schooling is over.” His sigh was soft. “Time seems to pass differently there at times.”

“It does.” She nodded. “It does indeed.”

 

The questions are about to start, and we actually see Annie giving her father a hug, which is something that she doesn’t do much.  Annie and her father have had . . . let’s say issues, and they don’t always see eye-to-eye on a lot of things.  And now she will have to deal with Daddy finally meeting the boyfriend and having questions.  It should be fun.

And that should be tonight.

Adjusting For Home

I said I’d have another post, didn’t I?  Sure I did.  Now, the writing’s been a bit slow this morning, ’cause I’ve had shopping, and I’m cooking a big pot of chili in my crockpot, and I’ve washed all my clothes as well.  Between running out and running up and down, and snacking and trying to stay awake, it’s been a busy morning.

Let’s not forget the other blog post, too.

Anyhow, a few things have popped up.  For one, I’ve had a discussion about Annie dreamwalking Kerry, and I brought up something that I’ve thought about for a while:  once Annie figures out how to do that, she can spend all her time with Kerry while they’re awake, and then, once they’re asleep, she can come and visit him in his dreams.  It means that if she’s in the mood, she can spend all her time with Kerry, and he with her.  This could make her a bit like a Magically Overly Attached Girlfriend, and that means she needs a meme:

"You wouldn't want other girls sneaking in here, would you?  That could be . . . bad."

“You wouldn’t want other girls sneaking into your dreams, would you? That might be bad.”

Annie will keep you safe, Kerry.  Don’t worry.  Ever.

Yesterday was also saw the road leading up to Kerry’s house, so why not look at the road leading up to Annie’s.  Well . . .

And it looks this way right now in the novel.  Sort of.

And it looks this way right now in the novel. Sort of.

That area heading off into the woods on the right is the route heading into the mountains and going right to the Kirilovi Home.  It doesn’t look that way, but it is.  And while Annie’s parents have cars–and they even take them out for a drive when they want to maintain appearances–most of their visitors don’t drive, if you know what I mean.  You can be if or when Kerry comes to visit, it won’t be via this road.  Doesn’t mean he may not take the car into town, but a visit to Annie won’t involve ground travel.

But right now Annie’s home, and if Kerry is home thinking about her, that probably means Annie is thinking about him . . .

 

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

Annie’s eyes gradually opened and took in the darkness of her room. There was some ambient light, most of which came from the glow of her digital clock. She locked her gaze upon the readout: 19:15. It’s seventeen-fifteen in Cardiff— She rose up on her right elbow and brushed the hair from her face. He’s probably home and finally getting the opportunity to relax.

She slipped her legs from under the covers and sat on the side of the bed as she wriggled her feet into here slipper. Annie brushed her hair back over her shoulders and brought the lights in her room to their lowest level; only then did she make perpetrations to rise and face the rest of her first day home for Yule Holiday.

Her necklace and charm bracelet were on the jewelry tree sitting upon her dressing table. She’d considered wearing the necklace to bed, since he’d left it on when she’d Adjusted on the flight from Berlin to Boston with nothing happening. Adjustment sleep was so deep and full that a person almost never moved—almost.

Annie let the locket dangle inside her night shirt, where it felt cool against the bare skin over her heart. She slipped the charm bracelet on after that, smiling as she thought back to only a few hours before when they arrived home and she removed her jacket, both parents caught side of Kerry’s gift dangling around her left wrist. Her mother finally made the inquiry, and she nearly laughed when she saw the look they exchanged upon her saying it was as gift Kerry gave her during their first day in Berlin. While her father wasn’t certain what to make of this gift, Annie saw her mother realized the significance immediately—

The robe floated off the back of the chair where Annie set it after unpacking and hung in the air. She stepped up and backed into it, slipping her arms into the outstretched sleeves. She’d begun practicing this move a few months before after watching Helena doing this with one of her leather coats, and seeing her get into her coat that way brought back the memory of her mother sometimes do this same thing with her winter coats. It was necessary, then, for her to try the same thing, and since her skill with the Levitation spell was excellent, she crafted this action in a matter of a couple of days.

Walking towards the door she wrapped her robe around her and tied the sash. I imagine I’ll be able to slip this onto my shoulders with another month of practice. She waited until she was right in front of the door before waiving it open. I wonder if I’ll be able to actually dress myself that way? Mostly likely it would be easy with a dress—

“Ah, you’re finally up.”

Annie instinctively clutched her robe and held it tightly around her neck when she saw the visitor sitting in her sitting room. “Papa. You’re not supposed to come up unannounced.”

 

While Annie doesn’t mind a little tea with her mother in her sitting room, it seems as if having her father pop up without making an announcement first is a big social no-no.  And it probably doesn’t take a genius to figure out why he’s there–

You only have to wait until I write that part so you can see if you’re right.

Willkommen in Wien: Antworten und Abschiede

Interesting morning, let me tell you.  If I were more superstitious I’d say the people in Philadelphia who said today is the end of the world may have been on to something, but it’s really more like someone’s been jacking around with the firewall filters, and that’s messed people up.  Never the mind:  I have my excerpt, and maybe a little something else that I’ll mention at the end.

Still in Vienna and still with Daddy Kirilovi.  Now, you know Annie’s dad isn’t going to lose the opportunity to ask a certain Ginger Hair Boy a few questions, and so, yeah–he does . . .

 

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

Another protracted silence fell between Annie’s father and Bernice’s charge, and she wondered who was going to be the first to speak. Annie watched them both, her eyes flitting from Kerry to her father and back, examining both the way her father was examining the boy standing before him. It was Victor who broke the stalemate. “Are you enjoying school, Kerry?”

He nodded. “Yes, sir, quite a lot.”

“Must have been something of a shock to find out you were Aware.”

“Um, yeah, it was a bit.” He cast a glance towards Annie for just a second.

Victor noticed the glance. “Have you enjoyed your time with Annie?”

Annie’s face darkened as she glanced towards her father. “Papa.”

Annie would really like to look more peeved, but do you know how hard it is to find that picture?

Annie would really like to look more peeved, but do you know how hard it is to find that picture?

 

Yeah, Papa, you wanna watch going there with Daughter Dearest standing next to you, ’cause she’s protective of the moyata polovinka and she’ll get all up in someone’s business if they aren’t kind.  Fortunately, Kerry’s not gonna freak:

 

Kerry held up his hand for a moment. “Naw, it’s all right, Annie.” He started to relax, though there was a hint of nervousness in his voice. “Annie did a lot to help me fit into this new world; she helped me understand The Art so I could become a better witch—and a better sorceress.” A light grin played across his face. “She’ll say that’s not true, but I know different.” He smiled at her before facing her father. “I value every moment I’m with Annie, sir. She’s . . . She’s a special person. The most special.”

Bernice knew of the things that Kerry had already surmounted, but over the last minute she’d watched him present his bravest face ever. Victor Kirilov was an imposing man even though he wasn’t tall or large, but his confidence gave him an unshakable persona. She saw, as did Annie, and Kerry was a bit unnerved, but he didn’t cower—and if the look on Annie’s face is any indication of her current mood, she’s proud as well.

Victor turned to his wife. “We need to get home.” He placed a hand on Annie’s shoulder. “This young lady needs to do her adjustment before we go to dinner.”

“I agree.” Pavlina turned to Bernice. “It was pleasure meeting you again.”

She adjusted her purse so it set better on her shoulder. “Same here, Pavlina.” Bernice held out her hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Kirilov.”

“The pleasure was mine.” He shook her hand, then held his out for Kerry. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Kerry.”

“Thank you, sir.” He gave Victor’s hand a quick shake. “I’m glad I got to meet you.”

“Oh . . .” The right corner of his mouth curled upwards once more. “I’m sure it won’t be the last time.” He spread his arms as he took a step back. “Shall we go?

Pavlina waved to Kerry. “It was nice seeing you again, Kerry.” She shot a sideways glance at her husband. “I’m sure we’ll meet again soon.”

“I’m sure.” Kerry held out his left hand towards Annie. “I’m, um, I guess—”

“Hold on—” She spun around as her parents prepared to leave the waiting area. “I’d like to say goodbye to Kerry.”

Pavlina looked towards the young man. “Go ahead.”

Annie’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Privately?”

Victor seemed about to say something when Pavlina hooked her arm in his. “We’ll wait in the corridor.”

Bernice patted Kerry on the back. “I’ll be outside, too.”

 

Now, one might say Annie’s dad cut short the meeting, but really:  in a public place, do you really expect him to ask something like, “Are you doing kissy-face stuff with my daughter?”  Victor is a somewhat public person among Foundation people–being an F1 driver who just finished a season in third place will do that for you–and it wouldn’t do to have him getting all intimidating on a twelve year old boy.  Even if he did see that boy holding hands with his daughter.  Who wants to say goodbye to that boy Privately.  Did you get that, parents?  She wants privacy.

 

She headed into the corridor and leaned against the wall waiting for the kids to finish their goodbyes. She saw the Kirilovis standing about five meters from the entrance, speaking quietly to each other, and Bernice could only imagine the conversation they were having . . .

Annie and Kerry stood against one wall of the waiting room, and were just visible to Bernice. She saw their heads bowed and close together as they faced each other, holding hands. Annie touched Kerry’s cheek as she said something that appeared to relax him: it was only then that Bernice noticed his right hand quivering slightly. He listened as Annie spoke, stroking her arm as if to confirm she was there.

There was a moment when they gazed into each other’s eyes before hey kissed long and tenderly. Once the kiss finished then broke into a hug, and she observed Annie whisper something into his ear—something obviously pleasant and meaningful, for he was smiling as the turned and headed hand-in-hand for the waiting room exit . . .

They held each other’s hands tightly one last time in the corridor. Annie beamed. “I’ll see you in a couple of weeks, my . . .” She caught herself before speaking the last words within earshot of her parent. “I’ll write.”

“I’ll write back.” He quickly kissed her hand. “Have a good holiday, Annie.”

“Have a good holiday, Kerry.” She released Kerry and waved to Bernice. “Take care, Ms. Rutherford. Have a good holiday.”

“You, too, Annie.” Bernice waved back. “Enjoy your holiday.”

“I will.” Annie kissed two right fingers and held them towards Kerry. “Goodbye, mlechna.”

He did the same with his left fingers. “Sbogom, malko samri.”

She turned away with a giggle and smile and rejoined her parents. Kerry watched them walk away for a few seconds before her turned and approached Bernice. It was only then, while facing her, that his shoulders slumped. “Wow.” He let out a long, deep sigh. “Wow.”

“Let’s go sit in the lounge for a few minutes—” She pointed down the hall behind her. “Let them get to the public platform so they can jaunt home.”

“Sounds like a good idea.” He followed her to the small lounge where those who arrived early for an arrival or departure could wait in comfort. They found a couple of cozy chairs in a corner away from the few people there and sat. “Better?”

“Yeah.” He tapped his fingers on the arms of the chair as Bernice set her bad on the small, round table in front of them. “Why did he act that way towards me?”

She knew exactly to whom Kerry was referring. “Annie’s dad?”

“Yeah.”

 

Oh, you thought that was a grilling, Kerry?  Better watch out:  you may break under pressure.

Annie was about to lay “My love” on Kerry and caught herself.  One day soon she’s just gonna have to throw caution to the wind and kick it out there.  What she did call him was “sweet”, as in “sweet banista”, which is what she called him the night before at the Observatory, and Kerry responded with “Goodbye, little cabbage roll”, which is less romantic than “darling”, but darling might have had Daddy asking more questions.

Even so, Kerry got himself a case of the “First Time Father Meeting” nerves, and now gets to ask Ms. Rutherford about this.  Being that she’s a girl, she may have some experience in this matter . . .

Now, lastly, some news.  Yesterday I had someone ask me if I’d like to submit a series to Channillo, which is a website where people can post, in a continuing way, their novel series.  There are hundreds of writers already there, and it’s something that I may consider.  However . . . one of their stipulations is that whatever series you post there cannot be offered elsewhere for free, and were I to put, say, my first novel up, I’d have to go back over two years of posts and strip out excerpts that are hanging out on my blog.  Which, quite frankly, is a huge pain in the ass.

At the moment I’m wondering if this is a route I want to go, because I don’t figure to do a hack and slash on my blog that way.  The other choice would be to take another work of mine–say, one that isn’t selling all that well–and post it there with the promise of doing new content after the initial novel.  That’s a ballsy move, and one that would probably take up the majority of my time right now.

Right now I’m considering my options–one of which is I don’t think people are gonna pony up $5/month to read my first novel.  Maybe for another work, but not this one.\

So many decisions, so little time to do all the things I want to do.

Willkommen in Wien: Das Treffen

Here we are once more, with my quick and dirty just under seven hundred word, excerpt.  Not a lot is happening, but on the other hand, everything is happening, and it’s going to happen quickly.  Because, it seems, someone is getting set up here–

 

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

Bernice turned her back for a few seconds and smiled. She couldn’t prove anything, but the current situation so felt like Annie had tried to do something that didn’t sit well with her mother, and Pavlina decided that since her daughter was bringing her boyfriend with her to Vienna, she may as well bring Annie’s father along to meet the lad. If what I’ve read about Annie is true, I know where she gets her drive and stubbornness.

An announcement sounded through the room. “Vian atenton, mi petas. Teleportation de la Salem Instituto de Granda Lernado kaj Edukado ekkomprenas. Studentoj alvenante en dek kvin sekundoj.” People in the room turned towards the glassed in area anticipation of the arrival of children returning for the holidays.

 

In case your Esperanto is rusty, what was announced was this:  “Your attention, please. Teleportation from the Salem Institute of Greater Learning and Education is commencing. Students arriving in fifteen seconds.”  I really like there are a number of Esperanto translators around, and while this isn’t perfect, it’s good enough for my needs.  And my needs are simple.

But if there are students coming in from Salem, you know what that means . . .

 

A massive set of pops echoed through the platform room as just over a dozen kids jaunted in from America. Bernice looked for one child in particular, and she spotted him immediately. Kerry was up front near the edge, his bag on his right and Annie on his left. They stepped off the platform and proceeded through the opening glass doors into the waiting area. Bernice watched how they remained side-by-side from one room to the next—and that they held hands the whole time—

She wasn’t the only one to notice.

Annie broke from Kerry the moment she saw her parents. He wandered over to Bernice. “Hi, Ms. Rutherford.”

“Hello, Kerry.” This close to him it wasn’t difficult to see how different he seemed from this time last year. Then he was a tired, mopey boy who missed a young girl from Bulgaria terribly. Now he seemed better adjusted, less sad, a great deal more upbeat. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.” He smiled and patted the handle of his bag. “It was a good night and we had a good morning—”

Kerry.”

 

The last time Kerry heard his name called out like that he had to meet someone.  And, well:  it’s no different this time–

 

He and Bernice turned in the direction of Annie’s voice. Bernice suspected what was coming next, but as for the boy to her left—

He faced Annie, but his eyes were on the two adults with her—particular the man on her left. “Yes?”

“I’d like to introduce my parents.” She motioned to her right. “You remember my mother?”

“Yes, I do.” He held out his hand. “Hello again, Mrs. Kirilova.”

“How are you, Kerry?” She shook his hand. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“Good to see you, too.”

Annie motioned the man next to her forward. “And this . . . is my father.”

Once more he held out his hand. “How do you do? Victor Kirilov.”

Kerry took his hand. “Kerry Malibey.” They shook. “How do you do, sir?”

“I’m well, thank you.” Victor stared at Kerry; the boy stared back. Neither spoke while Victor seemed to regard the lad carefully. “So . . . The Ginger Hair Boy.” The right side of his mouth curled upward. “We meet at last.”

Kerry voice caught in his throat, the only sign he may have felt a bit unnerved. “Yes, sir, it appears we are.”

 

So, here we are:  both kids in Vienna, Kerry’s case worker there, and he’s facing both of Annie’s parents, but mostly it’s her dad who’s taking up his time right now.  How’s that feel, Kerry?

"I've fought monsters--this is just Annie's dad . . . I'd rather the monsters."

“I’ve fought monsters–this is just Annie’s dad . . . I’d rather the monsters.”

Hang in there, kid.  I’m sure I can give you more time tomorrow.

But for now, I gotta run, ’cause . . . stuff.  And things . . .

Tunes and Trailways

It’s a lovely morning, with the sun shining and the temps in an area where I can enjoy wearing a long skirt and a flowing top–though the Weather Channel tells me it’s only forty-two outside, but it feels a lot warmer.  I’ll stick with my feels, particularly since I’ll be inside all afternoon getting a full-on mani/pedi.

Lotsa, lotsa, lotsa writing yesterday.  There was the scene I posted yesterday, a large part of which was written in the morning from six-thirty to eight-thirty.  Then I got into Chapter Three, and started in on the first scene for that, stopping long enough to watch Orphan Black.  By the time I’d decided I’d had enough, I’d written nine-hundred and forty-five words, which given the hundred I’d written in the morning meant I’d put in a solid day of writing.

Throughout the afternoon, however, I spent time getting the kid’s song list together, which, I have to say, is fun.  It’s a bit telling in their musical tastes that of all the songs on Kerry’s list, only two of the so-far sixteen songs listed were produced after he was born, while on Annie’s list all of the songs were produced after she was born, with the oldest song on her lift coming when she was two years old.  Kerry’s is a conglomeration of old prog and soft rock/pop, while Annie goes for Pop Princess/Indie Queen feel.  And, as always, listening to her stuff introduces me to a lot of different music, and it’s only a matter of time before I see if she’d like a few artists I’ve never normally given a listen.

Needless to say, this has also got my mind going on the events that are going to happen during the B Level Samhain Dance.  I’ve already received some suggestions about costumes–fun ones, I should mention–but there is one song in particular that I can see being asks for, and if I go in that direction–and trust me, I likely will–Annie is gonna break loose and bust some Dark Witch moves.  Just running the images for the scene through my head last night, put a huge smile on my face.

That’s me:  always thinking of different ways to make life fun for my kids when I’m not putting them through hell.

The first of three scenes has started, and I’m probably closer to the end of it than I am the beginning.  It’s 27 August, 2012, and that’s Travel Day for all the kids at Salem.  We know how Annie travels:  we saw it in the first scene of the last novel.  And Kerry sort of travels the same way now that he knows about witches and magic and jaunting.  However, his folks aren’t hip to that yet, so there’s a bit of the ol’ smoke and mirrors going on . . .

 

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

When the doorbell rang, Kerry didn’t need to check the time: his travel package said Ms. Rutherford would arrive at seven-twenty to take him to the train station, and his case worker was extremely punctual. He checked the clock in the lounge as he headed for the front door: it was seven-twenty.

Ms. Rutherford stood in the frame of the open outer door. She was young black woman dressed in gray business skirt and jacket, a cream colored blouse, and matching gray wedges. Slung over her right shoulder was the large tan purse she carried everywhere—one big enough to hold a tablet, mobile, and just about anything else The Foundation might give her depending upon whatever she might need that she couldn’t handle with her magic. “Good morning, Kerry.”

“Good morning, Ms. Rutherford.” He stepped back and to the side. “Please, come in.”

“Thank you, Kerry.” She entered the house and walked into the lounge with Kerry following. She stopped in the middle of the lounge to greet his parents. “Good morning, Mr. Malibey; Mrs. Malibey.”

Davyn and Louise stood in the arch separating the dinning room from the front lounge. Both were dressed for work, with Louise being a little more casual as she wasn’t in a management position like her husband. Davyn nodded. “Good morning, Ms. Rutherford.”

Louise smiled and nodded as well. “Good morning, Ms. Rutherford. You look wide awake for someone up this early.”

“I could say the same for you, Mrs. Malibey. I haven’t been up that long: I came into Cardiff last night and spent the night downtown.” She turned to Kerry for a moment, then back to his parents. “I knew we’d have a long day ahead of us, and I didn’t want to get held up coming in from London.”

“Kerry’s been up early as well.” Louise turned towards her son for a moment. “He was up before five getting ready.”

He looked up at Ms. Rutherford standing to his right. “I gotta get back on Salem time, don’t I?”

“Indeed you do.” She addressed his parent. “They start the day early at school. Most of the students are up around five preparing for the day ahead.”

 

Yeah, get ready for that day, Kerry.  Even though you won’t set foot in your new room, for four days, you’re back on the time you know you’re gonna have to work for nine months.  I should say, back on the schedule–you won’t be back on Boston time for a few more days.

There is small talk among Ms. Rutherford and Davyn and Louise, and that brings us to Kerry’s actual departure–

 

He stood in the entry to the lounge, his roll-on bag at his side and wearing his backpack. “Yeah, all set here.” Kerry gazed across the room to where his parents were standing together. “Well, I’m, uh, off, I guess.” He stood waiting to see if they would do anything.

His father dropped his sight for a second as he cleared his throat. “Have a good trip, Son.”

His mother’s headed half-nodded, half-jerked, as if she were having difficulty knowing what to do. “Have fun at school, Kerry. And lets us know when you get there.”

“I will, Mom.” He kept his face unmoving and expressionless. “I’ll send you an email when I get into my dorm.”

“Good. Then I guess we’ll see you when you come home for Christmas.”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’ll see you then.” He waved slowly. “Take care, guys. Bye.” Kerry turned and headed for the front door. Once out on the walk he was vaguely aware that Ms. Rutherford was right beside him; out of the corner of his vision he saw her make a hand motion at the black salon with the tinted window parked at the end of the walkway, and the lid to the trunk popped opened. As they reached the car he saw Ms Rutherford get in on the driver’s side: Kerry placed his luggage inside the trunk and headed for the rear passenger side as the lid closed automatically. Seconds later he was inside, sitting comfortably with his backpack between his legs. As soon as the rear lid locked the driver put the car in gear and drove away.

Kerry didn’t bother looking back.

 

When I say Kerry suffers from a fear of abandonment, that all comes out of the lack of affection coming from both parents.  Maybe they’re afraid to give hugs to their only child in front of a stranger, but still:  that ending is cold, way the hell Queen Elsa of Frozen cold.  Annie is going to tell Kerry something later in this school year, and though it will take him some time to comprehend, when the time come he’ll take it to heart and never let it go.

We are here with this mess:

Eighteen thousand is looking pretty good at the moment.

Eighteen thousand is looking pretty good at the moment.

After two weeks I’m close to twenty thousand words, which I might pass tonight.  By this time next week I will for sure out of Part One and into Part Two, and the kids will finally be “home”.

And then I’ll see what fresh hell I can unleash upon them.

At Home With the Malibeys, Button Pushing

Before we get to the fun with our favorite Cardiff Kid, a side track into my life, and how crazy I can get at times.

Last night, after work, I went out for a nice, thirty minute drive, to see a wonderful lady who proceeded to shoot electricity into my face.  Yes, I started on electrolysis last night, and it was an experience, having your facial hairs shocked out of your body one at a time.  Actually, more like shocked until they are dead, and then plucked away.

I was in the chair for two hours, and there was pain.  I spent most of the time tense and clutching an armrest in one hand and a grounding bar in the other.  (Yeah, you gotta let that juice flow through you, baby.)  And when the two hours were over, most of the left side of my face and parts of my chin were swollen and numb, and stayed that way for a while–like, for the rest of the night–and I looked like I was attacked by bees.

I mean, it wasn't that bad . . .

I mean, it wasn’t that bad . . .

I’m going back for my next session next Monday after letting everything grow out for two days, which will make getting all the gray hairs easier.

So then the right side of my face will look like this.

So then the right side of my face will look like this.

There’s a lot of redness and just a bit of puffiness this morning, but as Cosima Niehaus once told one of her clone sisters, “Thank god for concealer.”  And it will be getting a workout today.

The personal horror show is over, let’s get back to the one starting up in my story.

Kerry is starting to get a bit of shit from him folks–and, yes, I did write after all the stuff I’ve shown you above.  Almost a thousand words of stuff, actually.  Kerry’s parents–well, his mother mostly, it seems–find it a little hard to believe their baby we-still-don’t-know-he’s-a-witch boy would have friends who are girls instead of hanging with the boys.  And that gets addressed.

 

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

Kerry slowly turned towards his mother, unsure if he’d heard her question. “What?”

“Do you have any friends at school who are boys?”

“Well, there’s a guy in the advanced class I’m taking who we hang with a little after class, and a couple of others we know in other classes, but—” He looked down at his fish and chips while clearing this throat. “Not really.”

His mother’s fingers lightly tapped against the table top. “Not really what?”

“I mean, I don’t really hang out with them.” He shrugged. “Not like, you know, close friends.”

His father decided to join the conversation. “So almost all your friends are girls?”

Kerry half-turned his head in his father’s direction. “Yeah, I guess.” He shrugged. “Is there anything wrong with that?”

Louise wrapped her hand around her glass of mineral water. “It might not be a bad idea if you had some male friends—” She looked across the table at her husband. “And not just this Girl Who Writes.”

Kerry heard the capital letters on each of the last three works, and he did his best to push any nasty comebacks aside. “I don’t know why it’s a big deal I don’t have any close friends who are guys—”

 

There’s that slam again, and this time, as I point out, Kerry’s hearing Mom capitalizing those words.  Again, wait for what happens there, and you’ll find out Mom is using some of Kerry’s geekness against him.

 

His mother shook her head. “You did when you were at school here.”

“No, I didn’t, Mom.” He scoffed loudly. “I didn’t have any friends here; everyone thought I was a strange American kid with a funny accent—remember? The only reason you think I had friends is ‘cause I told you the moment people found out you worked for the BBC, they wanted to know if I could get them tee shirts and stuff.” He pushed his half-eaten wrapper of food away. “Jeez.”

 

Kerry’s usually pretty calm and cool–when he’s not crying, yeah–but now he’s getting a bit flustered.  And kids from California have a funny accent?  Dude . . .

 

“I agree with your mother—” Davyn seemed to lean a little further forward, if that were possible. “Having some boys your age as friends—”

“Is boring.” Kerry couldn’t understand what the big deal was about his choice of friends. They were never like this when I was going to school here. “Besides, Salem is mostly girls anyway—it used to be an all-girls school, you know.” He turned from his father to his mother, and back. “Since it’s mostly girls, it makes sense that I’d make friends with them, right?”

“All the more reason I’d think you’d want to hang out with some boys.” He father sat back, chuckling. “There’s safety in numbers, isn’t there?”

 

Yeah, watch out, Kerry!  Those girls have cooties, and if you’re not careful, before you know it they’ll wanna do stuff like hold hands and kiss and sleep with you, and tell you all about how they’re going to marry you and . . .

Oops.  Too late.

Kerry starts asking his own questions, and . . .

 

“Only if you think the girls are out to get you.” Kerry decided to try and push the conversation back on his parent. “Didn’t you have any girls as friends, Dad?”

Davyn’s response was immediate. “No.”

Kerry needed a few seconds to comprehend his father’s answer. “You’re kidding.”

“He’s not.” Louise smiled at her husband. “Your father was quite popular with the women before we met.”

His father smiled back.  “The women I knew loved the accent.”

Kerry stared straight ahead through half-closed eyes. “I don’t want to know.” He turned back to his mother. “What about you, Mom? Didn’t you have any guys who you were just friends with?”

Unlike with his father, his mother didn’t answer for almost ten seconds. “Well, yes, there were a couple—”

Kerry raised his right hand as if he were celebrating a victory. “There you go—”

“They were gay.”

“Oh.” Kerry pursed his lips and blew out a raspberry. “I see.”

 

As I was told yesterday, the implications that his parents could be forming are (1) Kerry is a playa, or (2) Kerry is gay.  How do his parents get those ideas?  Well . . . they pretty much were that before they found each other and got married.  Makes you wonder if Louise figured she was getting the Bay Catch of the Day when she landed Davyn, because he’s got that Richard Burton accent thing going.  As Kerry says, I don’t want to know.

But, you know, moms being moms, she wants to know all about these . . . girls.  And now the uncomfort level is about to get cranked, and if you pay close attention, Kerry sort of gives away a little of the game in the process before–

 

His mother wanted to know more about Kerry’s choice of friends. “So, how do you know these girls?”

He looked up and nearly rolled his eyes. “Mom.”

“Mom, what? Don’t I have a right to know about your friends?”

Kerry wanted to tell her it was none of her business, but figured he would tell his parent as much of the truth as they wanted to know, then head for his room. “Nadine’s in the advanced class we’re in—”

“We’re?”

“Annie and I: we’re in an advanced class together, and Nadine’s there.”

“I see. Go on.”

He cleared his throat. “Nadine is also my keyboard tutor—”

“Wait?” Davyn cocked his head to one say. “A keyboard tutor?”

“Yeah. First day of school I found the school’s collection of keyboards, and the head of the Arts and Music Department, Professor Ellison, and I started talking. He found out I like a lot of old music, and asked me if I wanted to learn how to play better.” He nodded slowly, turning back to his mother. “He got Nadine to tutor me on different technologies and things like that, on top of learning to be a better player.”

For the first time during the conversation Louise seemed impressed. “I didn’t know that.”

Kerry shrugged. “All you had to do was ask about some of the stuff I do there.”

His mother didn’t care for the implication that she was uninterested in her son. “And Emma?”

“We’re in almost all the same classes, and she likes racing.” There’s a few other things that you don’t need to know about her, though . . . “Also, there aren’t a lot of Americans in our level, and she still sort of thinks of me as one.”

Davyn almost laughed. “Must be strange being an ex-pat in your own country.”

Kerry chuckled. “There’s so many kids from everywhere that you start thinking at times like we’re in our own little country.”

His mother snorted. “I can imagine—” She wasn’t interested in all the students at Kerry’s school—just one more in particular. “Now about The Girl Who Writes—”

Kerry had finally reached the point where he wasn’t about to take any more of his mother’s passive-aggressive attacks. “She’s not a Doctor Who episode, Mom. She has a name: it’s Annie. Okay?” It was only after he uttered the last word that he realized he had started breathing hard due to his anger.

 

–He starts to lose it on his mother.  You’re picking on the woman he loves, Louise–not that she knows that, or, as you will discover, she’d give much of a shit about.

Louise is referencing the Doctor Who episode The Girl Who Waited, which dealt with Amy being split into two parts, with one of them living alone through just over thirty years.  Given what his parents do at the BeeBee, it’s possible his father probably managed some of the sound effects processes for the episode, and his mother may have help on the visual effects.  Needless to say, the episode doesn’t end on a completely happy note, and Louise is likely jerking her son around a little, playing on his love of the show while at the same time kinda pointing out, without really knowing, that they both are waiting for this summer to end.  This was what Kerry meant when he said to Annie in London, “Better than The Girl Who Waits,” though Annie replied she does wait, and that eventually led to a tear running down her cheek . . .

Yeah:  Mother of the Year here.  I wonder what she’d say if she knew her son could blast her across the room?

Hey, how about a look at my novel so we end on a happy note?

Hey, how about a look at my novel so we end on a happy note?

At Home With the Malibeys, the Start of Dinner

I swear I’m not trying to rush into this story, but I spent most of the afternoon and evening working on this part–well, most of the afternoon was spent trying to futz around with the new Google Maps to make out a “fake route” for Kerry, because once I see a shiny toy like that, I have to make it mine.  While it would seem there are bugs to get ironed out in the new Google Maps to make the itinerary you’ll see below, it likely is coming.

I wrote almost fifteen hundred words over the course of several hours, because I wanted to get into this part of the story.  We didn’t get to see much of Kerry’s home life in the last novel, but this time we’re starting off with a little slice, and they’ll be more to come when we get into Yule holiday.  But right now in the story it’s two weeks before Kerry lights out of Cardiff, and the family has sat down for dinner . . .

 

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

Monday, Wednesday, and Friday were the days that Kerry’s mother Louise went into work at the BBC, usually commuting with his father, Davyn. Not only was Kerry left alone on those days, but the evening dinner usually consisted of take way, mostly Indian and Chinese, though fish and chips and kababs also made their appearance, and once in a while buggers and pizza would grace the dinner table.

Tonight dinner didn’t arrive until just after nineteen hours, due to traffic and a delay at the restaurant. Kerry’s parents picked up fish and chips, and while this has always been one of his favorites, since having the fish and chips at the school, the Cardiff fare simply wasn’t as good. He never let on, however, because he didn’t want to have a discussion about why the Salem food was so much better.

After all, when it’s made by artificial people using magical means, it was hard for Normals to match the results.

The seating was always the same: Davyn sat at one end of the table with his back to the family room, while Louise sat across from him with her back to the main lounge. Kerry sat between them, facing the wall separating the dining room from the kitchen, with his father to his left and his mother to his right. Even when they lived in California they ate in the same configuration when they all ate together. It was only during this summer home, after spending nine months at school with Annie that Kerry understood what Coraline told him that night he went to the hospital after his vision: all the girls save Annie sit on his right.

Even his mother.

 

That last part . . . there will be an answer, of sorts, as to why Annie is always to Kerry’s left, and he to her right.  Just give me another couple of hundred thousand words to get there, will ya?

 

His parents spent almost ten minutes going over their events of the day before Louise finally got around to checking up on her son. “How was your day, Kerry? Did you do anything interesting?”

Kerry actually had something interesting happen, something he’d expected for a few weeks. “My travel package came today.”

“What’s that?” His father barely looked up from his chips.

“My travel package for school arrived.” Kerry rubbed his hands against his thighs. “You know: tickets and itinerary. All the stuff I need to get to the staging point for returning students.”

“Oh.” Davyn finally turned towards Kerry, wiping his hands clean. “It’s time for you to return already?”

“Yeah, Dad.” Kerry tried not to sound sullen when he answered. “I told you about this last Thursday.”

“Hum.” His father shook his head. “It must have slipped my mind.”

“Where are you, um, staging this year, dear?” Louise barely remembered Kerry mentioning this last week, but didn’t want her son to think they were completely uninterested.

“Berlin.”

“Berlin? In Germany?”

“One and the same.” He fought hard to keep from rolling his eyes. Mom’s smarter than that: she’s trying to make conversation so Dad doesn’t look like he doesn’t care . . .

Vaguely remembering that last year Kerry stayed in London for a few days before heading to Amsterdam, she decided to see if he was doing the same this year. “How are your plans for this year? Staying in London again?”

Kerry shook his head. “Nope. Ms. Rutherford is coming here early on the twenty-seventh, and we’re taking a car to Cardiff Central, then the train into Paddington, a car from there to Liverpool Station, the train from there out to Stansted Airport, and from there I fly to Berlin.” He nibbled at a piece of fish. “Gonna make for a long day.”

 

That is the route as I worked it out.  It looks like this:

 

Car from home to Cardiff Cental
Train from Cardiff Central to Paddington
Car from Paddington to Liverpool
Train from Liverpool to Stansted Airport
Flight from Stansted Airport to Berlin Tegel Airport
Car from Berlin Tegel Airport to Crowne Plaza Berlin–City Ctr Nurnberger

 

There you have it.  You can probably figure out how he’s really going to travel, but for the sake of continuing to fool the parents, that’s what his itinerary says and what the tickets show.

Oh, and you can almost see the air quotes around “staging” when Louise says the word.

 

His father nodded. “Certainly sounds that way. Wouldn’t it be easier for you to leave for school from London?”

“Probably, but that’s not how The Foundation does thing. Berlin is the staging area for all the returning students from Europe, Western Asia, and most of Africa. Last year they staged out of Madrid, and, I think, next year we stage out of Paris.” He didn’t want to say he’d heard that from Annie during their last dream together.

Louise snorted as she played with her food. “Still doesn’t sound efficient.”

“Apparently it works, though. Gives The Foundation time to gather everyone up, and lets the students have some time in a different city every year.”

“Do you know which cities they visit?” When Kerry had returned home after school in early June, Davyn seemed primarily concerned with how The Foundation was able to ship students back and forth to various parts of the world. Kerry figured he was getting a feel for the sort of costs that were run up transporting kids every year.

Kerry nodded. “Amsterdam, Paris, Madrid, Rome, and Berlin. Last year the returning students were in Madrid, Berlin this year, next year Paris. Then I think . . .” He searched for something Annie had mentioned off-hand during their last dream. “We go to Rome and then back to Amsterdam. I remember hearing something about you always end up your last staging year in the city where you started.” Assuming you don’t start jaunting off to Salem by that time.

 

I’ve run through, in my mind, of course, all the cities that the Foundation is currently using for staging, and I even worked out the line.  A couple of things here, though:  once again, we are working with five points–like in a pentagram–and three of these cities are the locations for the main headquarters for The Foundation.  The Protectors headquarters (they are like The Foundation police) is located in Berlin, the Guardians headquarters (we know these guys) is located in Amsterdam, and the main Foundation headquarters is located in Paris.  How ironic that Annie and Kerry started out in the main city of the people they did a field operation for a half-year later.  One might imagine something dark and nefarious about that, but no:  it just happened to be in the schedule for the A Levels.

Now that travel is out of the way, the parental units try to do the small talk thing with the young don’t-know-he’s-a-witch-yet person:

 

Silence returned to the dinner table for almost a minute as everyone caught up on the food before them. Louise once more broke the silence. “You seem happy about going back.”

Kerry wasn’t going to try and hide his joy. “I am.”

“You were never like this when you were returning to school here—”

“That’s because it was the Cardiff schools, Mom.” Kerry tried to keep his tone as snide-free as possible, but given his hatred for time in the Cardiff school system, he wasn’t completely successful.

Davyn thought he’d try to lighten the mood by changing the subject. “I guess you’re looking forward to seeing your friends again.”

“Yeah.” Thinking about the people he knew who’d return to school with him lightened his mood considerably. “It’ll be great seeing them again.”

His father placed his folded arms on the table and leaned against them. “Who are some of your friends?”

“Well, there’s Nadine, and there’s Emma—” He blushed slightly as he grinned. “And Annie.”

His mother addressed her husband. “You know, the girl who writes all the time?”

 

Remember The Girl Who Writes, because it’s gonna make for some problems in a bit . . .

 

“Yes, that one.” Davyn turned back to his son. “Anyone else?”

Kerry didn’t have to think about that one. “A few of the instructors, also.”

“They have names?”

“Sure. There’s Erywin and Helena—you met them, Mom—and there’s Deanna and Wednesday, and Vicky.” He considered the others he knew. “There’s also Professor Kishna and Professor Semplen, but I don’t knew them well enough to call them by their given names.”

Louise eyed her son hard. “I was going to ask about that.”

“Yeah, some of the instructors want you to address them by their given names when you’re in private—” He realized he was missing someone. “Oh, and there’s Coraline—she’s the school doctor—and Trevor, our librarian and archivist.”

“I see.” Louise set her right knuckles against the bottom of her chin. “Those first three, though: those are classmates?”

“Yes, they are. Annie and Emma are in my level, and Nadine is an older—”

“Don’t you have any classmate friends who are boys?”

 

And leave it to Louise Malibey, mother of Kerry, to find a button to push.  “What?  Don’t you hang out with any boys?”  Yeah, push that button–push it!

So here we are–

Looking more like something I'd do for NaNoWriMo right now.

Looking more like something I’d do for NaNoWriMo right now.

–Eleven and a half thousand words into the new story, and only a little over a week is gone.  Not a bad pace, if I should say so myself.  It’s likely I won’t get much done tonight, however, as I’m off to get my face zapped again after work.  But I do wanna jump back into this scene, and into the next.  They are important.

Oh, and do you recall Annie telling Kerry in their last dream that there wasn’t any love in his house?

Yeah, remember that . . .

On Beyond A

I know, I should have something else posted here–like, you know, a story–but I don’t.  It’s like this:  I had to run out to pick up a few things, stuff that I was waking on or that involved getting money back.  Normally, even on a Thursday afternoon around five PM, that shouldn’t have involved too much time, because it’s not like The Burg is this bustling city with huge rush hour backups.

But what should have taken thirty minutes, tops, ended up taking about two hours because of a light cover of snow that made the roads just nasty enough to slow everything down.  So I picked up the thing I needed to pick up, then crawled across down in a thirty minute trip that normally takes about ten.  I should have just got in and got out with my refund, but . . . it was at a shoe story.  And the lady who knows me there knows me, and an hour later I walked out with three pair of shoes to complete my work ensemble.

I never used to like shopping, but suddenly it’s like, “Oh, I don’t need this, but you know, it won’t hurt to have it.”  And just like those statistics where they say a lot of women have like twenty pair of shoes–yeah, I’m a statistic.

Really, is it something in the estrogen?

Really, is it something in the estrogen?

By the time I stopped to get something to eat–because the roads were crap and it would have taken me thirty minutes to drive home anyway–it was just after eight PM when I returned home and I was starting to nod out in a serious way.  I brought up the program and started trying to write–and I couldn’t.  Really, the inspiration and motivation tank was dry, and my inner goddess was kicked back in her easy chair blowing raspberries at me.

Sucks, I tell you.

However . . . yesterday between bouts of testing and nodding out–yeah, I was doing this at work a lot–I started thinking about a story.  What story, you ask?

The next novel in the series.

This isn’t to say that I haven’t thought about the story at all; I have.  I’ve even part of it time lined out.  But I now have a definitive feel for like the first month or so the kids are back at school.  Even two months if I really push it.  It does detail a bit of Annie’s and Kerry’s summer, though most of that really happens on Kerry’s side.  We don’t really see much of his family life, save for one scene, where his parents begin questioning why he seems to have only girls as friends.

A little full disclosure:  at this point they don’t know that Annie is his girlfriend/soul mate/wife to be, they only know her as this girl from Bulgaria who lives in the same “dorm” with him.  (The thing with the dorm comes from the school forcing the kids from Normal families not to expose all their magical shenanigans just yet.)  That’s actually Annie’s idea, because she thinks, based upon everything Kerry’s said about them, they won’t be able to understand how their twelve year old son is in a serious relationship with a girl–and they definitely wouldn’t get the sleeping together thing, nope, no way.

But what happens is he gets his travel package in early August, and his parents finally start asking about the people he knows at school–because he does mention Annie and that he’s looking forward to seeing her again–and by the time the names start coming out, mom and dad notice this trend of female names, and start asking, “Don’t you have any friends who are, well, boys?”

And that’s the sort of shitty parents Kerry has, because they do think there’s something wrong with their kid going off to a school and developing friendly, non-dating relationships with the ladies.  They don’t actually come out and ridicule him, but they let it be known that they think he might be better off having, you know, some kid with testosterone hanging out so he doesn’t come down with permanent cooties.

But just wait until they find out all about Annie.

Yeah . . . just wait.