C Level Seeing: What to Do About the Future?

The big event of this weekend was finishing Chapter Seven last night.  It came quickly and easily even though the last scene of the chapter required quite a bit of research to get right.  In fact, the scene before that also took a bit of research to get right, but it was a different kind of research.

Anyway, Chapter Seven is in the bin and I’ll start on Chapter Eight tonight.

It's right there all nice and neat just waiting for me.

It’s right there all nice and neat just waiting for me.

Given that I ended the chapter, it’s a good time to end the current scene, which means I’m about to dump a big excerpt.  It’s okay, because there are two full scenes remaining in Chapter Seven for me to excerpt before I get to the next chapter which I’ll start working on tonight.  That means you’re going to get to see the entire conclusion of what’s happening with Deanna, Annie, and Kerry.

Yesterday we discovered Annie had, at some point in the future, got her nose pierced–and it seems her partner-in-crime did the same.  Well, at least one part of “him” did…

 

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

 

Now it was Kerry’s turn to be surprised. “Wait, what? I had a nose piercing?”

“Yes, here.” Annie touched the left side of her nose. “I saw it when we were in the bedroom. I don’t know what color was, but it was dark. Given the lighting conditions—” She shrugged. “I’m guessing it was an emerald.”

“So you had your birthstone as well.” Deanna rubbed her chin. “Interesting.”

Annie wasn’t done with what she saw in the vision. “Kerry also had dual piercings in her ears.”

“For real?” Kerry didn’t even question the fact that Annie had referred to him using a feminine pronoun. “You sure they were pierced?”

Annie nodded. “Two small hoops going through your earlobes. There was no possibility they were clip-ons.”

“Wow.” He shook his head. “At least we’re twinsies.”

“In what way?”

“You had twin piercings as well. Only yours were a small hoop in the front and a diamond stud in the back.”

“Really.”

“Yeah.”

Deanna allowed a few moments of silence to pass between the couple before she spoke. “Whenever this happened, it’s obvious it’s at a time where Kerry has grown accustomed to his female half—” The seer turned toward Annie. “So much so that he doesn’t mind mimicking the same adornments as you.”

“It seems likely.” Annie was still hung up on the time frame of the vision. “But he didn’t have a nose piercing in our wedding night vision. So—”

“It means nothing. Do you seriously believe that in the next five years neither one of you will become confident enough with transformation magic that you couldn’t hide something as simple as a nose piercing? I tend to believe that less than anything else I’m hearing.”

Kerry grunted softly before letting out a low laugh. “I’m still trying to believe I’d actually have pierced ears.”

Annie and Deanna chuckled together with Annie responding to the comment. “Girls usually have their ears pierced by the time they’re teenagers. I had mine done when I was eight. In your case you’re starting a little late.”

Kerry wrapped his arms around his chest. “Probably. That isn’t any stranger than the idea they’d let us wear earrings for something like that.”

Deanna caught the slight nod from Annie and felt it necessary to inquire. “What do you mean, Kerry? Who would let you wear earrings?”

 

Not only is Kerry out as a girl with this special girl, but by this time she’s comfortable enough to get her ears pierced and mimic Annie with a little nose bob of her own.  Annie’s comments about Kerry catching up to her by getting her ears pierced late due to–let’s say “circumstances”–may give one reason to believe that she’ll likely push to get that done as soon as Kerry becomes used to walking around in the new body.  Or not.  But you have to imagine that Annie will play an important part in getting Kerry acclimated to all the girl stuff she’ll need to know.

Now the question was left hanging as to “who” let them hang on to their jewelry in this vision, and there is an answer:

 

Once more Annie stepped in and answered the question as she glanced at Kerry. “The Guardians.”

He rocked slightly with his arms still wrapped around him. “Wherever we were, we weren’t there because we wanted to be there.”

Annie looked at Deanna. “We were there on a field operation. I couldn’t tell you where we were or why we were there, but it definitely felt as if we were working for The Guardians.”

Deanna sat quietly as she gathering her thoughts. “You’re positive of this, both of you?”

Both answered in unison. “Yes.”

The instructor squared his shoulders. “It’s always possible—”

“Shouldn’t we tell them?”

Of the two Deanna suspected that Annie would be the one to ask this question. “You can’t do that, Annie.”

Kerry released the hold on his chest but began fidgeting. “You can’t just do nothing about this.”

“That is exactly what you going to do about this.” Deanna responded with a bit of an edge in her voice. “Kerry, you’ve read all these books on sight and vision–and you’re aware of this as well, Annie. You can go send off a message to The Guardians telling them you suspect something’s going to happen in the future that’s going to require your presence. In a sense you’re trying to set up the outcome of the vision—”

“But I feel we should say something.” Though she wasn’t fidgeting like her boyfriend, it wasn’t difficult to mistake the agitation in Annie’s eyes. “We can’t just let this go.”

“And were not going to let it go. In a situation like this I’ll send the information off to the Prognosticators Division and let them figure it out. That standard procedure.” Deanna pointed a warning finger at both children. “But you are to do nothing. You don’t tell Helena about this, you don’t and try contacting San Francisco on your own—and you do not try to analyze this vision in an attempt to somehow prepare yourself for what you think may be coming.”

Kerry finally glanced up at Deanna. “But—”

The seer shook her head. “No but, Kerry.”

Annie’s jaw tightened. “Still, though—”

For the first time in the three years of having these meetings the smile vanished from Deanna space and her voice rose slightly. “And no still, either.” She closed her eyes and calmed herself. “I know you want to do the right thing, but saying and doing nothing is the right thing. This is one of the things were going to learn in class, and it’s one of the hardest lessons we learn, that by trying to affect the outcome of a vision we may make it happen—and it’s possible it could even have more disastrous results.” The smile returned to Deanna’s face. “Please, you have to trust me.”

Annie and Kerry exchanged looks before Annie finally nodded. “You are the expert in this matter, so we will defer to your knowledge and your wishes.”

Deanna immediately picked up on Kerry’s hesitancy to agree with Annie. “Kerry?”

He finally nodded. “I agree with Annie: I defer to your knowledge.” He glanced at Annie once more. “However—”

Deanna fought hard not to sigh. “Yes?”

“Would it hurt if I just kinda do some research on this?”

“We won’t say anything.” Annie brushed a few strands of hair away from her face. “But would we compromise the vision if we were to at least get an idea where we were?”

Deanna glanced back and forth between her soon-to-be students for a couple of seconds before giving her answer. “Astamae li.”

The moment the Arabic phrase was said Annie’s and Kerry’s eyes closed as they both slumped slightly. Deanna waited nearly ten seconds before being certain they weren’t about to come out of their trance. She gripped her hands together in her lap and looked towards the floor, deep in contemplation. I didn’t want to do this, but it was necessary. They would understand if I told them everything I knew, but if I did that would I be invalidating the other visions? I can’t take that chance.

She looked up with cold determination in her eyes. “When the time is right you’ll remember this moment. I hope, when that happens, you’ll find it in your hearts to forgive me…”

 

Okay…  several things here:

The kids have been around long enough to figure out that what they’re “seeing” is a Guardian Field Op, and if it is it doesn’t sound like a lot of fun.  All we know is that it seems to be in a somewhat urban area, it’s cold, it’s dark, and there aren’t a lot of people around.  Should be interesting.

Now we know of the Prognosticators Division where all visions go, or at least it’s something of a given that Deanna sends some their way.  Which makes you wonder if those other visions Annie and Kerry have had ended up with them as well.  And where are they located?  Not telling.

There there’s that last thing that Deanna did–and what exactly did she do?  Obviously she put the kids into a trance so she can–what?  Futz with their memories of this vision?  Probably.  Has she done this before?  I’m not telling.  I’ll let you draw your own conclusions.

Now that all the seeing is out of the way, it’s time to move on to another instructor the kids are gonna have for the first time–and a bit of technogeek talk.

C Level Seeing: To See What We See

You would not believe the day I had yesterday.  I was up at three yesterday morning and by the time I got to bed, it was nearly 2 AM today.  Yes, I was up for nearly 23 hours.  Why?  Because I wrote in nearly 5000 word recap for the two hour Sense8 episode.  A recap that took nearly 6 hours to write and edit.  Don’t judge me: I’m just doing my job.

"Yeah, keep it up, Louise. I'll only have the rest of your life to make you miserable."

“What job is that, Cassie?  The one that doesn’t pay you any money?  That one?”

Shush, you.  I don’t need your snarky opinion, even if it is mine.

But that’s all behind me.  Today I promise something special and you’re going to get.  Today you’re going to get a vision.  Not necessarily one of loveliness, but a vision nonetheless.  The event of the C Level novel and it may or may not mean something in the long run.  I’m sure the majority of you will take that to mean, yeah, it does mean something, and… You may be right.  Partially.  Somewhat.  Kinda maybe.

You’ll just have to wait and see.

In the meantime, let’s get this party started.

 

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

 

Kerry prepared the kettle while Annie prepared the infusers and the cups. Once the water was near a boil Deanna had Kerry take his cup and sit next to Annie. A few moments later Deanna returned with the kettle insert before her soon-to-be students. “You seem exceptionally ready for this to begin.”

Kerry held his saucer tight, his thumbs upon the rim of the cup. “I guess I’ve kind of come to look forward to this.”

“It’s the same with me—” Annie stretched out her legs before re-crossing them. “Now that I know we can have visions under certain conditions, I’m interested in knowing what those visions will show.”

Deanna’s face remained free of expression as she poured water from the kettle into each of the cups. “Remember, you’re not using his visions as a way of seeing future outcomes: instead, they’re meant to act as a learning experience so that you may interpret your future in the past you may take to arrive at that point.” She sat on the large pillow and set the kettle on the floor. “Let the tea seep a little before you stir.”

Annie and Kerry held onto their saucers are keeping their vision locked upon Deanna least they start their trancing too soon. They waited for a nod from Deanna before they looked down and begin to slowly stir the liquid. Neither took their eyes on the surface as it swirled around the hidden bowl of the spoon. As they had done twice before they freed themselves from conscious thought and fell into encroaching darkness…

 

It’s pretty obvious that by now the kids are loving the fact that they’re seeing bits and pieces of their future, even if they don’t know what that future meets.  Deanna’s comment about using these visions as a learning experience is meant to throw little cold water on their enthusiasm.  ‘Cause the day will come when they’re going to have a not so nice vision, one that may even show a glimpse into their fleeting mortality.

Yeah, these visions are all fun and games until you have one that shows a fireball blasting through your torso.  Then it kinda sucks.

Since I’ve been hyping the sucker for a bit, it’s probably time to show it.  So here you go: here’s the vision.  And we’ll figure out right away who’s actually seeing this…

 

Looking down the street, one that is dark and covered in snow. There is a small stand of trees to your left and around you a number of houses. It doesn’t look as if you’re in a large city: the houses are not that close together and each seems to have a yard. They have one thing in common: every one of them is dark. You turn to your left and keep turning until you’re looking down the street that was behind you. It’s the same view as far as you can see, maybe near to a kilometer. Snow-covered roads; a few cars; a few trees; dark houses. No lights anywhere.

“I think it’s over there.”

You keep turning to your left and there’s Annie. She’s dressed in one of the white hooded parkas you’ve worn during winter flying, but there’s something different about this one that you can’t quite figure out. She wears a baklava under her fur-lined hood—though her face is fully exposed—and thick white mittens on each hand. She’s pointing to something almost in front of her, barely visible through trees. “Isn’t that the movie theater?”

You look in the direction she’s pointing and see a large, dark structure. “Yeah, that’s it.” You point off the direction almost forty-five degrees to her left. “That house should be over there, maybe a couple hundred meters away.”

She nods. Her face seems to indicate something is bothering her, but it’ difficult to read her body language through the heavy parka. “We’ll use that. Even if it doesn’t have any power, it should be large enough for us to heat with a small fire.” She gives you what looks like a tired, half-hearted smile. “Come on; they’re expecting us to contact them soon.”

You fall in next Annie and begin walking as you always do on her right side. You hear the crunch of snow underfoot and when you look down you are both wearing white snow pants and Arctic-grade boots. The outfit reminds you of those you’ve wore during past winters and the cold upon your face brings back memories of flying through New England and Canada.

You glance up into the sky but there’s nothing there, not even stars. Like the environment around you the sky is pitch dark. You don’t even see clouds in the Stygian darkness.

You slow up just enough for Annie to take notice. She takes your hand and pulls you to a stop. “What is it?”

Your voice sounds small and far-off. “It’s all darkness. Everything.” You seemed to deflate as you sigh. “I’d love to see the aurora.”

Annie squeezes your hand and there’s a weariness in her voice when she speaks. “So would I, my love.” She gives you a slight tug. “Not much further; it’s just around the corner.”

You turn right at the intersection and walk maybe another seventy meters to your destination: a large, somewhat well-to-do house with a large yard behind and to the side. As with all the other houses there are no lights on. While she is still a couple of meters from the door Annie crafts a spell and tries to open it. It doesn’t open, so she walks up to the door, removes the mitten on her left hand and sets it upon the surface, then phases her arm all the way past the elbow through the door. A moment later locks are disengaged and the door opens. She yanks her arm out and enters without saying a word.

You follow and close the door behind. You’re in a small entryway where there are various shoes and boots waiting. There is an opening in the wall: Annie steps through and you’re right behind. It’s the living room, one surprisingly large and well furnished, with good wallpapering and drapes, a couple of easy chairs, several tables, a sofa, and in entertainment center with a flatscreen TV. It’s obvious that whomever lives here has some money.

Annie examines the room. “We can use this for the broadcast. We can sit on the sofa—”

You push back the hood of your parka and roll up your baklava until it sits upon your head like a hat. “No heat in here.” You point to the far end of the room. “We can set up a small fire in the corner over there, and over here by the entrance.”

Annie pushes back her hood and does the same with her baklava. “It’s possible they have a LPG tank and all we need to do is relight the pilot.” She pulled off her mittens and let them hang at the end of her sleeves while she removed the woolen gloves underneath. “I won’t hold out hope for that, however.”

You shake your head. “We’re better off supplying our own heat.” You have stepped back into the hallway. “We should check to see if there’s anyone here.”

Annie looks over your shoulder. “I’ll take the left side, you take the right.” You had the first door on the right side of the hall, but before you go in you watch Annie outside her door, steeling herself before waving it open. She forms a light point and goes inside the room.

You remove your mittens and gloves, ready your light point, and wave open the door.

At first glance it looks as if it could be a girl’s room. There’s a twin bed before you partially covered by a light-colored comforter that’s been thrown back as if someone had leapt out of bed. There are a couple of stuffed animals at the foot of the bed and a small stuffed hippo lay at your feet. On the other side of the bed is a small dressing table and facing the foot of the bed is a wardrobe. There are posters on the wall of what looked to be young men, though you recognize none of them.

But there’s no one here and you know it’s been a while since anyone slept in this bed—

“The master bedroom is empty.” Annie moves through the doorway and slides up to your left. “It’s like the other residents we’ve investigated.”

You shake your head as a wave of sadness courses through your body. “Yeah, I guess it was asking for too much find someone home.” You half turn towards her. “You really think it’s necessary to explore the rest of the house?”

She shakes her head. “There’s no one here but us.”

You swing the light point around so that it comes to a rest at the foot of the bed. “Yeah.” Your gaze first focuses upon the wardrobe before slowly panning left. “We should probably get some heat going so we can ditch these coats—”

Your gaze stops upon something at the far end of the room directly in front of you. You pause only a second before letting out a yelp as you’re startled…

 

There you have it: the complete vision.  So what is left?  After all, there’s usually some sort of aftermath to these visions; at least that’s all seen the last two.

You’re not going to be disappointed by this outcome

 

Kerry screamed as he fell backwards on to the nest the pillows behind him. He lay on his back for a few seconds trying to catch his breath and calm his speeding heart. He felt his chest and stomach, expecting to be drenched by tea and was surprised to find he was completely dry.

What surprised him even more was to find Annie lying next to him staring up at the ceiling as she gripped a pillow while slowing her breathing. Five seconds later she rolled on her side and propped herself up on her elbow. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Kerry checked his tee shirt again then looked at Annie. “You’re not wet.”

“I took the tea from you before anything bad could happen.” Deanna was leaning forward on her pillows, the cups of tea on the floor to her left. “What happened? I heard your dialogue—”

Annie brushed her hair from her face as she returned to her pillow. “We were speaking?”

Kerry sat back up with a grunt. “Again?”

“Yes to both questions.” Deanna waited until both young teens appeared settled before asking her own questions. “First, was this another shared vision?”

“It was.” Annie flipped her hair back over her shoulders. “Just like last year.”

“I suspected that: your interaction indicated you were together.” Deanna looked Kerry, who appeared uneasy once more. “Kerry, what caused you to act that way? It was obvious something affected you first and that pulled Annie out of the vision as well.”

At first it almost seemed as if Kerry wasn’t going to respond, as his eyes shifted from left to right and his fingers tapped away on his thighs. He finally replied without making eye contact with the seer. “I saw something.”

Deanna’s right eyebrow arched upward for a second. “And what did you see?”

 

Whatever Kerry saw it scared the shit out of him.  And it would appear Annie saw it as well, as it was a shared vision and she gave every indication that this vision shook her as well.  So the question becomes, what did they see?

Good thing tomorrow is Christmas ’cause that give me an excuse to give you present in the form of an answer…

The Remains of the Day: Visions of Dreams

The Eleventh of May–not to be confused with the Eleventh Earl of Mar–was a day of stone braining.  It seemed like I was in a fog for much of the day, and that isn’t good when your job involves trying to think.  Throw in the pain in my left leg and it was a good day for feeling as if you were down for the count.

So when I got home I opened the door to the balcony to air out the apartment and get it nice and cool, then stripped down to the knickers and climbed into that new onesie that I was given as a present.  And I took about an hour long nap.  I mean, I was out.  I was nice and comfortable and cozy, and once I was up I felt a lot better.

See?  I've fallen into the Onesie Trap and I can't gt up.

See? I’ve fallen into the Onesie Trap and I can’t get up.  Or maybe I did.

Then it was run off to mail a small package, then pick up some food, then come back here and change, then speak to a couple of friends who were having issues–and then I got to writing.  I was actually surprised that I managed as much as I did.

While getting in almost six hundred words isn’t what I’d call a return to the old form, it’s better than what I have done of late, and it seems as if I’m working towards the prophetic words of Winston Churchill, when he said, in part, that you struggle to finish a book.  I feel like I’m struggling now, but I’m getting there slowly but surely.

And what happened after the exchange of titles that we’re sure at to come?  Well . . .

 

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

“Neither did I.” He began patting out a tune on his legs. “But—”

“Yes?”

“It seems. . . natural.”

Annie flashed back on the origin of that particular comment: her rune dream from the first Friday evening she spent at school. Though by now she understood that it wasn’t so much a dream as it was a vision— Kerry’s was his mind telling him about our shared dream space and, in a slight way, about his Bigender Gift. Mine was showing me the aftermath of our first true night together, the aftermath of our shared vision

She slowly rolled her eyes from the right to her left. “Wait.”

Kerry immediately stopped his drumming. “What it is?”

“My rune dream: we mentioned The Three Bindings.”

Though it had been a little over a year since they discussed their rune dreams on the north shore of Lake Lovecraft, there was little about Annie’s dream that he didn’t remember. There were even times when he was alone that he could her her speaking to him, once again hearing her words of what happened the morning following their wedding night. Us waking up, getting the message from my mom; getting up and standing at the railing of the Lake House loft, talking about breakfast with her parents and mine up at the main house and what she wanted to wear; having coffee after we cleaned up—

He then remembered the part of the conversation to which Annie refereed. “I asked if you felt something—if you felt different.”

“Yes.” She didn’t look directly at Kerry, but rather stared down into the forest gloom beyond the school walls. “I said it was like my head cleared.”

“And then I said something like, ‘This must mean they were right’.” He looked up into the darkening gray sky. “Damn. You’re right.”

“It must have been The Three Bindings we were discussing there.” There was just a touch of exasperation in Annie’s sigh. “It just now struck me that’s what it meant.”

 

This is one of those instances where something I wrote in the last novel is coming to fruition once more.  Annie’s rune dream was written during NaNoWriMo 2014–according to when I posted it to my blog, it was written the evening of 20 November, 2014.  That’s like a year and a half ago, and in checking the story I see the scene was created in Scrivener on 12 June, 2014.  So I pretty much knew what was going to happen with this nearly two years ago–longer if you realize I had this in my head for a while.

And what part of the dream are we discussing?  Right here at the end:

 

This excerpt from The Foundation Chronicles, Book One: A For Advanced, copyright 2013, 2014, 2015 by Cassidy Frazee)

“Consider it done.”  There’s a silence that stretches on for about fifteen seconds.  I’m almost about to ask what is wrong when you speak.  “Did you feel anything . . . different?”

“Yes.”  I release you hand and turn to face you.  “It was like my head cleared.”

“Same here.”  You face me.  “I guess that means they were right.”

“So it would seem.”  My right hand becomes entwined in your left as I draw closer.  “Now the question becomes, where do we go with this—“  I press against you and kiss you long and slow.  “Mr. Malibey?”

“The answer to that is simple:  anywhere and everywhere we want to go—“  You return the kiss, and when you step back, there is a gleam in your eye.  “Mrs. Malibey.”

 

That was where I had them, in their vision, realizing something was going on with them, and they were aware of what that something was.  Once more, I’ve been sitting on something for almost two years just so I can get it into this novel, and have them–like everyone reading–understand what’s going on.  Long game and all, you know?

This means Kerry makes an obvious connection, which Annie makes another–

 

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

Kerry said nothing as he continued staring out towards west. “You know what this means—” He half turned towards Annie. “It means we didn’t do that before we got married.”

“Obviously.” She almost laughed. “It also means that someone performed that physical binding ceremony at our wedding.” A veneer of seriousness dropped over Annie’s face as she whispered a name. “Deanna.”

He exhaled slowly between pursed his lips. “You think?”

“It must be her; it couldn’t be anyone else.”  She fully turned again, slipping on leg under the other. “She read my description of what happened and then had six months to figure out what it could mean.” She closed her eyes for a moment, and when they opened it was clear Annie had more than assumptions in mind. “I’ll bet Deanna knows everything about this ceremony—probably has from before she knew about our astral binding—and that she’s spent the last few weeks figuring out everything we might need to do the ceremony once we learned it existed.” She shook her head slowly as she swung her legs back over the outside of the wall. “It would have taken her a week or so to put that writ together and have it approved: it’s not as if she sent the information to Paris last night.”

“Oh, man.” He returned to dangling his legs over the wall, moving close enough to Annie that he was shoulder-to-shoulder with her. “So what does this writ actually do to us?”

 

Does this mean the Seer of Salem is gaslighting my kids about a whole lot of stuff in their lives?  It’s been established that she probably knows a lot more than she’s admitting, but some kind of Seer’s Code prevents her from saying things like, “Oh, and Annie:  don’t eat the truffles when you’re in France in two years.”  That can mean anything, and as Deanna says, once you’ve had a vision, it’s difficult to tell if you’re doing or not doing something will make it come true.

We’re getting into the end of the scene, chapter, and part, and in those few words that will come before I have to sit and write out notes for a recap, more than a few things are gonna get said–

"Maybe I should tell Kerry that this means he should marry me right now!"

“Maybe I should tell Kerry this writ means he must marry me right now!”

Nah.  You’ll know that can’t happen, kiddo . . .

Full Tilt Visions

Well, nails are done, Orphan Black is watched, and the last working scene is completed.  It wasn’t as hard as I thought it might become, but I didn’t get my butt in gear until late in the afternoon, and didn’t finish up until about ten-thirty last night.  Which is normal for me:  I seem to write early in the morning or late at night.  Probably due to this work thing that gets in the way of the middle of the day most weeks.

The scene, as mentioned, is finished, and it only took me five days to write four thousand words–

I'd have finished in four if I hadn't screwed around for two days.

I’d have finished in four if I hadn’t screwed around for two days.

The remainder of the scene is a follow-up to what has already happened.  As the reader you know what went down, but Deanna doesn’t because she’s just a character in my world–then again, she’s somewhere inside me, so she knows the future because I know the future, and . . . nah, best not go down that rabbit hole.

But my kids have to go there–and it’s not easy . . .

 

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

“This.” Annie’s shirt was two-thirds of the way up her torso before she realized she was sitting in a classroom in Memory’s End—and that Kerry was facing her, helping her with her top. “Kerry.”

“Annie.” Kerry slowly pulled his hands back from where he was helping Annie with her top, his face a mask of embarrassment not over what he was doing, but the realization of where it was done. “I’m, um—”

“I know.” She pulled her blouse back to into position before reaching for Kerry’s hands. “I didn’t know—”

“I didn’t either.”

“I was just—”

“We were—”

Both felt saucers set against their hands. Deanna was there, hold their cups. “Here, have some tea. It’ll calm you.”

Annie and Kerry took their respective cup and turned away from each other and faced Deanna, who’d returned to her pillow seat. They sipped their tea in silence for more than a minute, never looking at each other until they’d felt their emotions returning to normal.

Annie was the first to ask the question on both their minds. “What did you see?”

Deanna didn’t need to ask to whom she was speaking. “First, tell me what you saw.”

She nodded, then went into detail of what she saw. Annie started at the floor as she reached the end. “You saw what happened at the end.”

“Yes, I did.” Deanna turned to Kerry. “What did you see?”

He said nothing for a few seconds, then slowly nodded in Annie’s direction. “Everything she saw.”

“Only from your point of view?”

“Yeah.”

 

This was what Deanna wanted to see–and she got her money’s worth.  She even admits that she saw them pantomiming some of their actions while they were having their vision:  it’s how she knew they were flying, because she watched them act as if they were.  Kerry also points out that it felt incredibly real, like they really were in the air streaking along at hundred of kilometers and hour.

But once more they’re sharing visions and dreams–and it looks as if you put them in a trance together, odds are they’ll start visioning together.  That could come in handy in a few years–“Honey, who should we invite to the party?”  “Why don’t we have a trans vision and see who shows up?”  “Good idea!”–but there are some downsides to that idea.  Like what they learn when Kerry asks how they came back to the real world:  did it happen naturally, or did they have help?

 

Deanna sat back a little in her pillow chair. “Do you mean bring you out of the trance?”

“No, I mean . . .” He swallowed. “I mean the vision.”

“No.” She shook her head slowly. “It’s dangerous bringing a person out of a vision. It can cause a great deal of problems—even harm—for the person experiencing the vision.”

“How far would you have let us go?” Annie was also staring at the floor.

Deanna wasn’t about to hide anything. “Until you came out of the vision.”

Annie looked up and meet the seer’s stare. “Even if I’d undressed?”

“Do you believe that’s what you were doing?”

“Yes.”

Denna nodded towards the entrance. “The door is locked and I’m in conference. We wouldn’t have been interrupted.”

Those words sent a chill through Annie. She wouldn’t have stopped us—couldn’t have stopped us. We would have had to see it through to the end. “What do you think it means, Deanna?”

 

Something like this came up during the rune dream discussion, when Annie and Kerry began talking about their wedding night vision, and as they felt themselves slipping into it, they panicked and stopped talking.  Here they get the conformation:  Annie could have stripped down to her nickers and Deanna would have let her because something bad could have happened if she tried to force her back to the real world.  I guess it goes without saying that having those visions together might not be a good idea . . .

Now the question is “When?” and there is at least one hint–

 

The seer considered the question for a moment. “Given what you know about each other, how did you look in your vision compared to now?”

“We were older.” Annie confirmed this with soul mate, who nodded. “We’re certain.”

“I wasn’t wearing glasses.” Reflectively Kerry adjusted the wire frames. “I didn’t have them flying—the goggles weren’t over-sized—”

Annie agreed. “No, they weren’t. And I could see your face clearly. You weren’t wearing them in the room, either.”

“That means it has to be a ways off in the future—” He turned to Deanna. “Right?”

“Perhaps.” A slight grin played over Deanna’s face. “Then again, you are taking Advanced Transformation this year, and learning how to adjust and correct your eyesight is something you’ll probably learn. I’d say by this next summer you may be on the way to doing away with your glasses either permanently, or at the least semi-permanently.”

 

What?  Are you trying to tell me you actually one-up Harry Potter and fix your eyesight with magic?  Oh, just wait and see what you can do, kids:  I got it all figured out.  But yes:  Kerry ditches the glasses at some point soon, because why do you need them when you can give yourself 20/20, or 20/15, or even 20/10 vision?  And since Kerry will come out to his parents when he finished his B Levels, better eyesight through magic is a must.  Just tell everyone else you got contacts . . .

Visions are out of the way–now, it’s time for gifts.  Um, I mean Gifts.  Everyone likes those, right?

Time Enough For Myself

You know that whole think I said yesterday about doing some writing?  Um . . . yeah.  Didn’t happen.  I was out of the apartment by nine in the morning, and didn’t return until thirteen hours later.  That’s ten PM, or twenty-two hours if you’re flying by Salem time.  The good thing is only three of that was spent on the road, so it was ten hours of hanging out and spending money.

Oh, yes:  there was money spent.  But it was for a good time.

I got to hang out with someone I know from Facebook.  She lives southeast of Baltimore, and we hung out, with her husband and kid, at a nearby mall.  It was a good time.  Got a Panera lobster roll (do no recommend it; I love their stuff, but this was kinda nasty), she bought shoes (on my recommendations), we tried on a bought clothes (I got two skirts, a casual dress, and a sun dress).  Oh, and we got our nails done, but it was a really shitty job:  one of my toes was clipped and bleed, the side of my left foot seems to have lost skin, and I feel like I cheated on my regular manicurist.

If you ever wondered what I look like getting a mani/pedi, there's no need to wonder any more.

If you ever wondered what I look like getting a mani/pedi, you can stop.

It was a great time, and a good way to help someone spend Mother’s Day.  I even got a “Happy Mother’s Day,” because I look like a mother?  I am and I ain’t:  that’s a tough one to get around, and I don’t try.  One could say that since I’ve never blasted a kid out from nether reasons I’m not, but I’ve helped raise my daughter and been there for her when it was needed, so–maybe?  Not for me to say.

I didn’t think much about my other kids, however.  Well, I did a little, but my mind was off somewhere else for most of the day yesterday.  I’m back to thinking about them a lot these days, but I’m going over so much that I’ve already went over, that I’m looking for insights into new scenes.  Now that I have a better sense of what’s happening in the B Levels–from a personal perspective for them, that is–ideas are popping into my head, and I’m thinking over the good and the bad, keeping what I like and discarding all the rest–or at least moving the old aside and keeping it somewhere close in case I like it for something else.

I did wake up this morning with an almost clear picture of what happens in the next scene after the one which I’m currently writing, the one titled Remembering Memory.  Annie wants to visit Deanna, ’cause she was the first person they saw on the first day of school as A Levels, so why not again?  Do you think they’ll have a quiet discussion over tea?  It’s quite possible that’s exactly what’s going to happen.  If this morning is any indication, I knew right where that vision is going . . .

I hope to get a few hundred words written tonight–after I have more electrolysis done this evening.  From the sublime to the masochistic, wouldn’t you say?  Anyway, if I don’t write just something to night, I think I’ll go nuts.

And it helps get my mind off the fact that my face is on fire.

The Past Through a Present Gate: Questions of the Past Answered

Blessed Beltane to everyone, near and far.  Somewhere, in another world, some kids are getting ready to torch a couple of huge bonfires, but they won’t be my kids, because in this time frame they’re D Levels and too told to qualify to light the fires.  By this time they’ve probably set some people on fire–just kidding.  I know exactly what they’re doing in Beltane 2015, and while they’ll be at the lighting, and doing some of the events after, they won’t torch them.

They’ll save that for the Deconstructors.

In the meantime I have naked statues at the Capitol Building facepalming for some reason . . .  I see this every morning to and from work, by the way.

Meanwhile I have naked statues at the Capitol Building face palming for some reason . . . I see this every morning to and from work, by the way.

Chapter Three is finished, and along with that Part One.  Annie and Kerry got through the summer with help, Kerry made it out of Cardiff pretty much unscathed, and kids finally met up again in Berlin.  And I wrote like crazy last night, hitting just short of two thousand words–if you count what I wrote yesterday morning, I did hit that number.  I wasn’t in any speed groove or something like that; I just wanted to finish their story and not leave any dangling threads.

Though I’m sure I’ve opened up a lot of questions for people.

Here’s the happy couple strolling through the Tiergarten on their way to the Berlin Victory Column . . .

 

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

Annie held up her charms to the light for a moment, watching the light dance over the silver. “When did you get this?”

“About a month ago.” He thought back to the moment when he’d decided to buy the gift. “I started looking for someone for you the day after our lunch in London, and found this after a couple of days. The next Monday, when my parents were at work, I went to the shop to check it out, told them what I had in mind, and they worked it up by Wednesday.” He chuckled. “When I got the travel package and confirmed that we were coming to Berlin on the day we first met, I knew I had to give it to you today.”

She kissed his hand. “Were you going to give it to me today anyway?”

“Yeah, but . . .” Kerry’s blush spread quickly. “It was going to be an anniversary present of one kind or another. Either for our first meeting, or . . .” He bowed his head and spoke in a revered tone. “The first time you told me you loved me.”

Annie pressed his hand against his cheek. “Out on our bench?”

“Out on our bench.”

“Any event would have been good.” She lowered their arms to their normal position between them. “But you’ve made this day even more special.”

 

Now, I did leave out a part here, and that’s Kerry running an earworm through his head and thinking about some song Annie listened to after they woke up from their afternoon name.  What was it?  Ha!  I’m not telling.  Oh, and I figured out on the walk into work what costumes Annie and Kerry will wear during the Samhain dance.  Not telling you that, either.

And now we get into a burning question, one that Kerry has through about–

 

“Thank you, honey.” They strolled along in silence for another thirty seconds before Kerry felt the need to speak. “Can I ask a question?”

“Of course. You can ask me anything.”

“Okay. Well, when we were in London you remembered who I was—right?”

She nodded slightly. “Yes, I’ve told you that.”

“Then how come you didn’t recognize me at first when we met?”

 

Good question, Kerry.  Annie gets to school and starts telling Deanna about how she remembers him, how she was going to come after his and not even go to Salem so she could, and . . . she doesn’t even recognize him.  And why?  She has an answer.

 

Annie turned and looked off into the midst of the Tiergarten, saying nothing for nearly a minute. “I thought about this when you got your memory of us back.” She turned her head so she was looking down the path they walked upon. “I didn’t want to talk about it at the time because of everything else going on, and since you didn’t bring it up before we went home for the summer, I decided I would either.

“But after our lunch last month I thought about that some more. I can remember you standing there in the light while I was hiding in shadow—I did that on purpose, by the way.”

“You did?”

“Yes. I knew you were with us, and I knew that eventually you’d show, so I wanted to surprise you. And when you showed up . . .” She sighed and glanced at Kerry. “I didn’t know you. I should have known you, but I didn’t recognize you at all. It wasn’t until you said your name that I finally figured out who you were.

“When I started giving it thought, when I started remembering that moment, I realized the problem: the way you looked hadn’t matched my memory of you. The way I remembered you when I saw you in that book store was how you were on the night of my tenth birthday—the night I told you in our dream that I was a witch.”

“I remember. I had just turned nine at the start of summer.”

“I know.” Annie leaned against Kerry as they walked. “I think whatever you did to lock out our dreams and your memory of them forced me to focus on one of the great events of those moments.”

Kerry shook slightly as Annie brought up their dream from last June, when she’d mentioned she was going away to school, and he’d freaked out because he’d imagined she was leaving him forever. His anxiety mixed with the magic neither of them knew at the time he could perform locked them out of their dreamspace and placed blocks around their memories: he forget her completely while Annie found she couldn’t remember the events of that evening.

And now it appeared his action affected her more than either had first imagined.

He lightly pressed his head against Annie’s. “I’m sorry, Sweetie. I didn’t know—”

“It wasn’t your fault.” She stood, chuckling. “It’s really The Foundation’s fault: they should have told you about being a witch months before. Anyway, know that’s what happened. I was expecting to see a sweet nine year old boy, and instead a—” Annie reached across and ran her left finger over his cheek. “Slight sullen and tired eleven year old boy stood in his place.” She planted a quick kiss on the same check. “At least I got the right boy in the end.”

At the time I was putting the whole, “I remember him from a dream, but he doesn’t remember me!” line together, I had to figure out a lot of things, and one of those was “Why didn’t Annie recognize him right away and leap into his arms and cause a scene in the book store?”  Now you know:  Kerry’s actions removed the image of him from her mind, and she remembered, for her, the “last perfect moment” they had together, when she told him her biggest secret.

And there will be no “But wait!  That’s not what really happened” pronouncements later.  This is what happened.

Now it’s Annie’s turn, and she asks a simple question:  why did you inscribe the locket with this message?  Given that, in that first month at school, Kerry wasn’t sure how to love the girl who loved him, the inscription came from out of nowhere and floored Annie–mostly because she wasn’t expecting anything from him for her birthday.  He has an answer as well–

 

“Yeah, well—” Kerry remembered those days as well, and the image he had of himself not knowing how to deal with Annie’s affection reminded him of their early days together. “I had no memory of a girl who tells me after a week that she loved me and that she had for a long time—”

“Which is why the inscription touched me so greatly.”

“I thought about that as well.” He readjusted his hand around hers and slowly his pace slightly. “I spoke to Coraline and Erywin at a Midnight Madness a couple of weeks before your birthday and told them I wanted to get you something, and asked if they could help. So the following Tuesday night, after we got back from Astronomy class, I go to shut off my computer and there’s an email from Erywin. She tells me they found a locket, showed me a picture of it, and asked if I wanted them to pick it up. They also wanted to know if I wanted it inscribed, and if so, what?

“I didn’t even have to think about it: I wrote back that I wanted our names together, and under that, ‘With Love’. I mean, it was like I knew it had to say that.” He sighed. “It was something you needed to keep close to your heart.”

 

You can probably figure out the inscription from the clues given.  And now that Annie knows this, it leads to a follow-up:

 

“I remember you saying that.” She stopped them there on the path. “Did you get a headache after you sent off the email?”

“Yeah: a small one.” He got the implications of Annie’s question. “It was déjà vu, wasn’t it?”

“I think so.” They’d discussed déjà vu and how it worked, that it was actually repressed memories trying to force their way to the surface, and that in Normals it usually manifested as the belief one was reliving an event—while in the Aware it often manifested as physical discomfort or pain, and depending on the intensity of the memory, the pain could become unbearable, sometime even debilitating. “It sounds as if your memories were bleeding out slowly, even then.”

“They were. Like you, I thought about it, and I realized that, after that first night, they were returning slowly. When I kissed you on the bench—”

“You said it felt like you should.”

“Because something was telling me that I’d kissed you before, and it was all right to kiss you again.” He leaned in and kissed her lightly. “I think your reminding me that you’d loved me a long time help start breaking down that wall—” His grin was slight and a bit sad. “It was up to me to do the rest.”

“And you did.” Annie kissed him back, brightening his mood.

“Took me forever, though.”

“Not forever, my love. Besides . . .” Annie hugged him softly as she whispered to her soul mate. “You feel in love me all over again. Not a lot of girls get something that special.”

Kerry pushed away the oncoming sadness. “Three times if you count when I got my memories back.”

“Three times, then.” She held on to him while gazing into his eyes. “Now I feel incredibly special.”

“You should, because I did it all for you.” Kerry held her right hand in a firm grip, holding on as if he never wanted to let go. “And always will.”

“I know.” Annie caressed his cheek. “Nyama nishto nyama da napravi za men, moya lyubov.”

 

“There is nothing you wouldn’t do for me, my love.”  That’s what Annie tells him in her own language, because it’s easier to express herself that way, and she knows Kerry loves to hear her speak Bulgarian.  And “Lyubov” is the other word for “love”, but more along the lines of, “You’re my love,” and “my love,’ as Annie says.

And now we have Kerry’s impressions of what was happening, and his recollections of why he did what–not just with the locket, but some other things–and they eventually get to this moment in the park–

 

“What you said. We should get going—” He playfully flicked the tip of her nose. “My Dark Witch.”

She stepped back from him as her tone changed to that of mock anger. “I’m not a witch, I’m your wife. But after what you just said, I’m not even sure I want to be that any more.” She huffed as she placed her hands upon her hips.

Kerry moved around behind Annie and sipped his hands around her waist. “I’m sorry, dearest witchy wife. Can you forgive me?”

“Well . . .” She looked over her shoulder and felt her face break into a grin. “I suppose I can—this time.” She spun around in his arms. “It’s another part of our past now.”

“A good part, or a bad one?”

This time Annie bestowed a sweet, passionate kiss upon the boy of her dreams, the boy whom she loved more than anything. “Good or bad, it’s still the past. And after we spent so much time last school year trying to bring back the past—” She closed her eyes as she sighed. “Can we just concentrate on what happens now, and what will come in the future?”

Kerry didn’t want to dwell on the past, either. Last year had been a roller coaster for them both, and he didn’t want to deal with that again, not this time. We’ll have enough to keep us occupied this year—I want to enjoy it, and what ever comes after. “That sounds like a plan. Let’s do this.”

She nodded. “Let’s.”

“Okay, then.” He held her right hand as he took a step to his right. “We should get going; we got a monument to visit.”

Annie skipped twice. “Then we should be off. Come along—” She tugged at his arm. “My Dark Witch.”

“As you wish—” Kerry began skipping along the path alongside the most important person in his life. “My Dark Witch.”

 

There they go, my twelve year old Dark Witches skipping off through the park, looking like twelve year old kids in love.  And there above you see something that will appear in all the novels:  Annie quoting “I’m not a witch–” from The Princess Bride.  That’s going to happen at least once in each book, just as I’ll always have an Annie birthday present, and we’ll see the Samhain costumes.  And you also see something else that will be a big part of this novel:  no looking to the past, it’ll all be about the here, the now, and the what will be.  And that’s because I’ve answered all the questions to answer about that Summer of ’12, and now we gotta look forward to the 2012/2013 Salem School Year, and what comes after when Kerry tells the folks he’s a witch.

For now, though:

Part One looks like a wrap, right?  Right.

Part One looks like a wrap, right? Right.

It’s time to start on Part Two and get my kids out of Europe and across the Atlantic.

And we’re gonna do that with a different version of the Midnight Madness . . .

Along the Scenic Dreamways

Trying morning today because stupid computer is being a pain in the butt, but I may have tamed the beast.  Maybe.  I’ll find out in a bit, I guess, but it’s likely it’ll keep frustrating me for another hour or so.

This was so unlike yesterday, which was nice and sunny and warranted getting out of the apartment and doing a little shopping.  The shopping part sucked a lot when it came to finding shoes, as none of these damn stores carry anything in an woman’s 11 wide, so I’m pretty much wasting my time going in there to look.  Note to DSW:  you lost out on about a hundred dollars of sales yesterday because you continue to think everyone has a narrow foot.  Get with the times, loser.

But the trip out to Lancaster was fantastic, and it was the first time in a long time I was flying down the road with the windows down–

And I actually had hair for the wind to blow through.

And I actually had hair for the wind to blow through.

'It's a town full of losers, I'm pulling out of here to win."  Now all I gotta do is find my Mary.

‘It’s a town full of losers, I’m pulling out of here to win.” Now all I gotta do is find my Mary.

I should point out that those pictures above were taken with a mobile phone while I was traveling  at 70 mph/110 kph, while traveling in a straight line with no one near me.  Don’t try that at home, kids, unless you’re professional.  Like me.

I also managed to catch the first episode of Season 3 of Orphan Black, which was amazing as always, and made me feel sad for some of the seestras.  Why do they torture my poor clone girls?  Oh, wait:  I do that to my characters, too.

Speaking of which . . . I wrote.  I ended up producing fifteen hundred and fifty words, and finished the dream scene I’d started the other day.  Remember how I said I’d likely end up with ten thousand words written after the first week?

Yes, I believe I said I'd do that.

Yes, I believe I said I’d do that.

I believe I left my kids in a hotel room in dreamland, and . . . well, let’s see what happened next.

 

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

“Obviously.” Annie swung her legs to the floor, stood, and made her way to the red curtains on Kerry’s side of the room. She spread the curtains, exposing the balcony beyond the closed French doors. “Look out here.” She opened the doors and stepped out on to the open space beyond the bedroom.

The balcony was large enough for two people to sit close using one of the small chairs set in the far corners. The space between allowed that same couple to stand close together—something that Annie and Kerry were used to doing. The both leaned upon the railing and examined their surroundings.

They were on the second floor of their hotel; there was another floor above them. Their balcony overlooked a large, enclosed courtyard mostly covered in shadow at the moment. The courtyard was empty, as were all the remaining balconies for the other rooms. All of the balcony doors were closed and the curtains drawn.

They were the only ones here; the only ones present within their private universe.

 

Most of the time they are alone, but like a lot of dreams, they also get instances where they are in a crowd with other people.  Not this time, however.  And there’s something else–

 

Annie looked up to the cloudless, slate gray sky. “This feels like we’re in Europe.”

“I think so, too.” Kerry laid his hand over Annie’s. “It’s the way this place looks. It doesn’t seem like it’s in England, though—” He looked to the girl at his left. “Probably mainland.”

“I agree.” She twisted her right hand around and grasped Kerry’s. “It’s lovely, wherever we are.”

“It does feel like a real place—” He smiled. “Doesn’t it?”

“It does. It also feels—”

“Like it’s not a real dream?”

“Yes.”

Kerry searched his memory for any mention of instances where more than one person shared a dream vision. The books he’d read all thought his A Levels were thorough, but given that after his own experiences with dream visions, he’d gone over those chapters again before returning the books to the library . . .

He looked around as he sighed. “This is not happened before.” He looked over his shoulder into the room. “But you’re right: it feels more like something that’s going to happen to us instead of the last couple of dreams.”

Annie turned around, leaning against the railing as she peered into the room. “We should leave the room and see if there’s anything there.”

 

We know they’ve had the same vision, but they weren’t in it together at the same time–which may have been a bit strange if they had, and . . . we won’t go there.  Oh, and as an aside:  one day I will explain what Kerry’s first vision means, and why they had the same vision months apart.  Because I always figure those things out.

Eventually they leave the room, but what they find isn’t what they expect . . .

 

“Thank you.” She headed straight for the door with Kerry close behind. She designed an image in her mind of walking through the door and out onto the south deck of her lake house, a place Kerry had yet to see in their dreams. She opened the door, but rather than finding a hallway—or the deck she visualized—there was a sunny, tree-lined yard beyond. She stepped through the door and into the yard, walking about four meters before she stopped to examined their surroundings. “This was not what I wanted—or what I expected.”

Kerry began walking around in circles, looking at everything. “What did you want?”

“The deck of my lake house.”

“I don’t see a lake—” He pointed from where they’d just entered this area. “—and given what you’ve told me, I don’t think this is your house.”

Annie turned and gave a slight gasp when she saw the house. “No, it’s not, but . . . I know this place.” She turned to Kerry. “It’s my grandparent’s house in France.”

Kerry well remembered Annie describing her time this house, located outside the town of Pocancy, in the Champagne region. She’d told him about her time there during a lull in their Guardian field operation, as well as telling him of another dream of hers . . . “This is pretty nice. I like the yard.”

“I love having trees around a house.” She did a slow pirouette, taking in the grounds. “I haven’t thought about this in some time.”

 

Some of us remember the discussion about the house in France, which sort of morphed into a discussion about Annie wanting to live there one day–and not by herself.  As they walk through their dreamscape out to the dreamroad, the conversation turns back to that discussion, and the implications of what it means, and Kerry has to state the obvious . . .

 

Kerry noticed the use of the plural right away. “So this is where our house will be after we marry?”

Annie glanced out of the corner of her eye. “No: this is where we’ll make our home.” They stopped a couple of meters short of the road, with the gray, sunless sky beaming down on them. “Do you remember what else I said to you when we were on our field operation?”

There were a number of things Kerry recalled discussing while they were in Kansas City, but given their location, and Annie’s references, it wasn’t difficult to understand what she wanted him to remember. “What we talked about in our dream.”

“Yes. What we discussed outside your house in California.” She turned to him, never letting go of his hand. “You’ve lived in two houses, but you’ve never had a home.” She glanced at the ground for a moment. “That’s not completely true: you’ve had one near home—”

He was curious about this last statement. “Where?”

 

Yeah, where Annie?

 

“At the school—at Salem.” She slipped closer. “Do you know why? Because there you find love.” Annie held Kerry’s hand tight. “There is Vicky and Wednesday; there is Deanna and Coraline; there is Erywin and Helena.” She pressed herself against Kerry. “And I am there, above them all: your soul mate, the one who loves you most.

“I told you in our dream that a home is made of love, which is why you’ve never had a home. You have lived in California and you live in Cardiff, and while you have had some love in your live, you’ve never found in where you live. Your parents say they love you, but they don’t show it, they don’t offer the affection you require.

“I know this because I’ve been with you almost as long as they, and I know your wants, your dreams, your desires.” She kissed him, holding it for what seemed like forever. “We will marry—” Annie pressed her fingers against Kerry’s lips. “I know we are not supposed to speak of this, but here we are allowed to dream, are we not?

“We will marry, and we have a home. Maybe here, maybe in America, maybe in Bulgaria. I don’t care, as long as we are together. We will make that our home, because we will find love there. And we will say that to each other, every day, as I said I would do to you—and as I know you do for me.” She told both of his hands in hers and pressed them between their bodies. “Even when I can’t hear the words, I know you say them.”

He nodded slowly. “Every morning, and every evening. From now—”

“—Until the day you die?”

Kerry took a slight breath, ready to say the truth he’d held inside for many months now. “Until the day one of us dies.” He pressed his head against her shoulder. “That’s my promise.”

Annie held him against her. “I’ll hold you to that, love.”

 

Annie is not scared that talking about The Big M might be jinxing them in some way.  She doesn’t care;  she’s twelve, she’s a witch, she’s a hell of a sorceress who’s already racked up a body count, and she wants to give Kerry the love and affection tell him his parent are incapable of giving.  It’s likely she understands this last because she’s heard Kerry speak of it enough that it’s become as much a part of here as it is him.

And Kerry is right there, promising to tell his Sweetie that he loves her every day . . . until one of them die.  Yeah, a few people are going to read that line and say, “That could be tomorrow!” and start clutching pearls.  He’s also twelve, just a quarter year into that age, hanging out in a dream with a girl he’s known most of his life, and while he admitted last year that it’s possible they could die at any time, he’s now pushing that thought aside.  After all, Kerry’s been in the “I’ve cheated death” position three time in the last year, so he’s also developing that feeling kids his age get where they think nothing is going to happen to them.

Besides, His Dark Witch is gonna teach him to get those Morte spells up to speed while he teaches her to be a shapeshifter.  These kids got life by the ass right now–

Then again, if anyone believes that, they’re likely in the market to buy a bridge.

Off Into the Sunrise

The children are left behind, but they will return soon–tonight for sure.  Here we have the last time you’ll see any of the instructors chatting.  Salem is filtering away slowly, and this is the last of it right here.

For the school at Cape Ann is a memory now.  Sure, it gets mentioned, but in a few we’re not even going to be on the same continent.  We have three more counties to visit, and in the reverse order as we visited them almost four hundred thousand words ago.

Now, though, we have this:

 

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

Erywin sighed as she stood. “And with that I must leave you.” She leaned over and patted both children on their shoulders. “Enjoy your flight, and enjoy your time together.” She quickly left their cabin and made her way past the remainder of the students. She entered the closed-off section at the rear of the student section and shut the door behind her, letting out a loud sigh as she leaned against the bulkhead wall.

“Are they okay?” Deanna’s concern came through in her voice.

“Better than they were this morning.” Erywin took her seat to the left of Deanna. “But they’re still down. When Annie’s unable to push away her sadness after an hour, you know it’s serious.”

“It will be hard on them, but there’s nothing to be done.” Deanna crossed her legs and repositioned her tunic across her waist. “They’ll have to resign themselves to spending the summer apart.”

“I’m certain they have, but . . .” Erywin leaned closer to her traveling companion as the plane was pushed backwards out of the hanger. “Deanna, did we do the right thing letting them spend last night together?”

 

Erywin, as stated, is a lot like Kerry:  she wears her emotions out where all can see them.  Perhaps in the edit there’s a passage I’d like to add where Deanna mentions that Erywin is like Kerry, and that she identifies with both children, who in turn remind her a great deal of her own relationship.  But for now I’m leaving that out, because it’s not about Erywin, and that line would be a good one for the second scene of the next book, of which I know pretty much how the first six scenes will play out.

How does Deanna answer?

 

Though she possessed no doubts about their actions, Deanna needed to address Erywin’s concerns. “It was necessary.”

“I know you told us it was something we needed to do—still, they’re so miserable—”

“And how miserable would you imagine them this morning had they spent the night apart in the hotel with the rest of the students on this plane?” Deanna turned to face the woman next to her. “Yes, it’s possible one would have went into the other’s room, and it’s possible that wouldn’t have been allowed, given they weren’t being supervised by anyone from the school—”

“I know, I know. As you said, they were entitled to this moment alone, that it was important for their relationship.” She shrugged. “I do hope that all that happened last night—”

“They’re still virgins.”

 

Thanks for that TMI Update, Ms. Arrakis!  Though that wasn’t quite what Erywin was looking for . . .

 

Erywin raised an eyebrow and smirked. “I was going to say that all that happened last night was a lot of heartfelt moments between bouts of crying, but I suppose one can be thankful for that good news” She eyed the seer hard. “How do you know that?”

Deanna didn’t blink. “You know how I know that.”

“The same way you knew they needed to be together last night?”

“Yes.”

She knew she wouldn’t get an answer, but Erywin had to ask. “How much do you know about them?”

 

And there’s as damning a passage as any.  How would you like to have students under your charge, and know about the discussions they’re going to have about sex a few years in the future?  Or know that they had sex?  Or have a vision of them having sex?  Talk about a brain bleach moment.  But that’s something Deanna deals with, not just with these kids, but with others, and even with her friends and acquaintances.  As the next line shows, Erywin was also Deanna’s instructor at one time, and you have to wonder if she wonders if Deanna used to flash on details of their future together.  It’s one of those things that does have to drive you a little nutty, even in a world where nutty is pretty common.

So what does Deanna say?  Not what you might think–

 

Deanna stared at the bulkhead in front of her for about ten seconds, and Erywin was certain her former student would either ignore the question or reply that it was impossible for her to say. Instead Deanna responded in a low voice that could barely be heard over the whine of the starting engines. “Not as much as you think. When I first saw them I knew who they were—I’d seen their names, and I was aware of Annie’s family—but that didn’t register. Not even after I had the short vision of them at Memory’s End on Orientation Day did they register. It wasn’t until I spoke with Annie the following week, when she first discussed her concerns about Kerry and their dreams, that I realized they were a couple I’d seen in a few visions.”

She straightened her legs as she looked in Erywin’s direction. “There’s been a few others since they’ve arrived. Some you know, like telling Coraline to let Annie spend the night after the Day of the Dead. But there’s been others . . .” She shrugged. “I’ve seen one where they discuss the needs not to do that one thing, if you know what I mean—”

“I know what you mean.”

“It happens in the future, that much I know.”

“How?”

Deanna shook her head. “I can’t say. I can’t.”

Blasted Seers. Erywin almost rolled her eyes as the plane lurched on the way to its take-off point. Always teasing and never spilling. “Isn’t it true that even though you’ve had that vision, it doesn’t mean it’ll come true?”

 

In about a hundred words at the back end of a huge novel we finally see a little of Deanna’s visions, and the only snippet of what she has seen of these two in the future.  But if you think there’s more, you’re wrong.  Or are you?

 

“That’s true.” Deanna set her hand in her lap and began preparing herself for the flight. “A vision is only a possible future, and not only the future itself. There always exists the possibility that one of both of them will do—that—before they get married, and thus partially invalidate their feelings on their own vision.”

There was something in Deanna’s statement that caught Erywin’s interest. “You make it sound like they will get married.”

“I can’t say.” The seer exhaled long and slow. “Only the future knows.”

Only the future— Erywin stretched out her legs as the 777 made its final turn prior to departure. But you said you couldn’t say—not that it wouldn’t happen. She closed her eyes as the engines revved and the jet lumbered down the runway. How much do you know?

 

We won’t get an answer to that question, not here.  Not any more this story.  Nope, it’s flashing behind us as we sail down the runway on the way back to Amsterdam.  If there are any answers, they come later.

For now, we say goodbye.

So long, Salem Witch School.  See you next year.

So long, Salem Witch School. See you next year.

Thoughts of the Moya Spŭtniks

It sounds like it should be the title of an The Americans episode, and could be some day, but it’s really all about my kids and their relaxation by the pond.  Not the Amy Pond, which would probably follow them home if they asked it to come along, but the Pearl Hill one, which is going to stay right where it is for a few thousand more years, I’d expect.

Last night I managed almost as much writing in two hours as I had in the last two days.  Then again, it was Wednesday, which is my normal writing night, and thought I wasn’t at Panera–I stayed home due to the weather–I managed to get out the words.  Because it’s Wednesday, and I should have been wearing pink.  Perhaps.

This scene has probably went through more gyrations in the last three days any just about any other.  I started out wanting to write one thing, then began to drift off in another directions towards another line of thought, and finally ended up with the thirteen hundred words I did last night.  And what did my kids talk about?  A little bit of everything, as you’ll see.  That’s how writing is some days:  you think you’re going one way, and you sort of end up the other.

Let’s pick up where we were yesterday . . .

 

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

Right now it was streaming Annie’s favorite music channel with the volume set where it could be heard without being overwhelming. She looked down at the display. “I knew your birthday present would come in handy one day.” She chuckled while snuggling back into Kerry’s arms.

He glanced down at the tablet and smiled. “It came in handy on the way out here—navigation and music, all in one.”

“You didn’t need it to get us out here.”

“But it was nice being able to fly to Wind and Wuthering.”

Annie grinned as she remembered back to the beginning of their flight where Kerry asked if he could play one of his favorite pieces, and once it started there was the strange orchestral sound at the beginning of the first song—he said it came from a mellotron, similar to the one Professor Ellison played for them that first week in the Auditorium’s Keyboard Room—seemed to set their mood as they floated away from Cape Ann on their way to Ipswich. The album was also long enough that it played nearly the entire way to Pearl Hill. “It was nice.” She squeezed his hands close to her heart. “So nice.”

 

Kerry finally dipped into his old classic songs, and what Annie heard was this:

Not only one of Kerry’s favorite pieces, by mine as well, and I still remember hearing this on the radio when I was a teenager.  But we’re not talking abut me, we’re talking about the kids, and there is something on their minds.

 

He sighed and stared off across the still water of the pond. “Are you thinking about next week at all?”

Annie slowly closed her eyes and paused her thoughts for a moment before answering. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about.”

“Me, too.” He once more rested his head against hers. “This time next week we’ll be at our own homes.”

“I would invite you home, but I don’t think I could keep you hidden forever in the lake house.” She chuckled. “Mama would know anyway, and she’d tell my father. And your parents would wonder where you went.”

“Don’t bet on it.” Kerry didn’t want to bring up his home life, so he pushed that aside. “Are we going to be able to keep in touch?”

“I’m sure we will.” The subject came up in the last Madness Friday night, and she mentioned that she didn’t own either a mobile or a computer, and she wasn’t certain she could get the use of her mother’s laptop to be able to speak with Kerry over the Internet. “I do believe my mother would object if I bought a computer and then spent all day long using it to speak to you.”

“We wouldn’t do that.”

“Really?” She looked up and back, finding it difficult not to laugh. “You know we would, love. It’s all we do now when we have free time.” She rolled her shoulders, getting settled. “And free time is all we’ll have during summer holiday.”

 

There have been questions about Annie having access to devices that would connect her to Kerry during the summer, but I think, once the next novel in this line comes up–What?  I’m talking about more novels?–it’ll be easy to see why Annie isn’t getting to computers and phones and the such.  Part of the issues right now is that Annie isn’t in control of her money, so she has to go through her parents to get something that’s big ticket.  And that might not always be easy–or wanted.  Then again, you never know.  One day she’ll have her own computer and she can chat up Kerry all she wants . . .

"I wonder if I can run a spell through here and find out if he's called that ginger bitch from Bolder.  Hum . . ."

“I wonder if I can run a spell through here and find out if he’s Skyped that ginger bitch from Bolder. Hum . . .”

Stop it, Annie.

And the funniest things happen when they’re not talking about being home for summer–

 

The quiet once more settled over the shore as they sat and enjoyed their closeness. Annie stretched out her legs and began rhythmical tapping her feet together as she leaned back into her soul mate. “I could stay here all day.”

“And we just might.” Kerry chuckled. “Not like you can hike in sandals.”

“I’m not in a hiking mood; we do enough walking at school. And I like wearing sandals when it gets warm: I love the feel of the air on my bare feet.” She patted his thigh. “I should get you a pair.”

“I’m not a sandals sort of guy.” He shook his head. “I have ugly feet.”

“I can give you a pedicure—”

Kerry gently messed Annie’s hair. “Get out of here.” He laughed, pulled her back in his arms, and gave her a long, soft, comforting kiss. “You’re not doing my nails.”

“There’s more to it than just polishing your nails.” She reached up and kiss his nose. “I’ll show you one day.”

“I’m sure you will.” He stared into her eyes, relaxing into her gaze. “When would be the soonest we could get married?”

 

Okay, Kerry:  where did that come from?  First you’re talking about Annie’s choice of footwear–and she does usually wear only sandals during the summer, and switches over once the weather changes–to laughing about pedicures–and get one Kerry, they’re totally nice–to “When can we get married?”  Yeah, even Annie didn’t see this coming . . .

 

Annie’s eyes widened in shock; this was the last question she expected. “Are you serious?”

Kerry nodded. “I’ve been thinking about our vision when I go to bed—”

“We said we wouldn’t.”

“I know, but—” He shrugged once. “Can’t help it. I remember how we looked in it and I wondered just how young we were . . .” He averted his gaze for a moment. “It’s why I ask.”

Annie rested against Kerry’s leg, propping herself upon her elbow. “Age of Emancipation is eighteen. That way you get six years of school and one year of Life Experience out of the way before you take your place in The Foundation, or go back to school if you’re invited into a Continuing Education Program.” She rolled on to her back, using Kerry’s thigh as a pillow. “It would have to come after you turn eighteen, which means it would be the summer after our Life Experience year together.”

Kerry immediately picked up on the Annie’s last word. “We’ll do it together?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, love.”

He lightly traced circles on Annie’s forehead and in her hair. “You think that’s when the vision happened?”

“I know it does. I have it written in my book that I want a June wedding.” She folded her hands across her stomach. “Right before summer begins. And given how we looked in the vision, I’d said that it probably happens the June after you turn eighteen.” She reached up and touched his cheek. “I wouldn’t want to wait.”

Kerry nodded slowly. “I don’t think I’d want to either.”

 

Kids talk about the damnedest things, but this is one for the books–or at least this book–and it even surprises Annie.  One at least discovers that she’s thinking to the year they spend after graduation from Salem, when they’re allowed to “walk the Earth”, more or less, and experience new things.  Kerry isn’t thinking about that, at least not directly.  And he does find out that, yes, Annie expects them to spend that year together, and that she knows the time of year when her wedding will take place.

It would seem that Kerry can’t get the maybe pending nuptials out of his head.  After all, it’s been a strange year:  you find out you’re a witch, that you do magic, that you’re also a sorceress, that you have to defend your school and fight monsters and kill bad guys, that you get sent out to fight more bad guys, and you rediscover your lost love who was always right in front of you and whom you’d fallen in love with again.  And that you’re getting married to her, because you both had a vision.

Pretty normal for this joint, but strange outside the walls.

 

A slight smile began to spread across Annie’s face. “We aren’t suppose to talk about this—”

“I know: the more you try to make a vision happen, the less likely it will.”

“And we’re talking about something that won’t happen for six years at the soonest.”

Kerry looked up and sighed. “I know.”

“But—”

“Yes?”

“That doesn’t keep me from thinking about us there, either.” She kissed the index and middle fingers of her right hand, then lightly pressed them against Kerry’s lips. “Obicham te, moya spŭtnik.”

Kerry did the same to Annie with his left hand. “Obicham te, moya spŭtnik.” He allowed his fingers to linger upon her face. “One day we won’t be apart when summer comes.”

“No.” Annie’s smile broadened. “We won’t.”

 

And ending it that way, with hope, was a lot better than ending it with depression over not being able to see each other.

Because . . . that’s still coming.

It can’t be avoided.

The Persistence of Visions and Love

It only took me about three hours–and staying up past my normal bedtime–to churn out just a word over fifteen hundred to finish the scene, put finish it I did.  It’s gonna need a good polish, because it’s not my best first draft, but it’s right where I want it, and that’s the idea behind a first draft.

Also, it does sort of have a rambling quality to the discussion.  I mean, we are talking about a twelve year old girl–twelve-and-a-half now, if you consider Annie’s birthday was in September–and Kerry just a few weeks short of his twelfth birthday, so it’s not unusual for them to be a bit inarticulate when it comes to pour out their hearts to an adult.  Although I should say Annie’s doing all the pouring right now, while Kerry has been sitting quietly.

So lets see what Annie has to say.  Do you remember she wrote something in that center part of her book?  She does:

 

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

Before Erywin could question further Annie continued, her voice growing dream-like. “I’ve updated the portraits over the years. In the middle of August I did the first one of us together, and wrote next to it, ‘I’m off to Salem to see my love, my future husband’.” She turned a faint smile towards the professor. “Rather presumptuous of me, don’t you think?”

“We all do things like that when we’re in love, Annie.” She patted the young girl’s hand. “You feel in love with someone, and you wanted to share your life with him. I know that feeling, believe me: I’ve done the same.”

“Did you plan your life with Helena without telling her first?” Annie sighed and seemed to wilt. “I did. I went and decided I was going to marry, decided how it was going to be, how I was going to look—and when I found someone I loved, I went ahead and made them my fiance. Because that’s how I am: selfish.” She looked at the ground and snorted. “What Annie wants, Annie gets. Just ask my mother.”

 

And this has been a running theme with her:  Annie is a selfish girl.  She’s brought it up, Deanna brought it up, and her mother believes it all too well.  Annie’s beating herself up over it and getting right down to the core of the matter:

 

For the first time she turned to Kerry, who had sat quietly through her conversation with a face that showed almost no emotion. “I never gave you a choice, my love. I decided everything for us, and in the years we were together in our dreams—even before you know I was real, before I knew you loved me, even before you knew I was witch—I never asked what you wanted. I never thought that you might want the same thing I wanted. What if you wanted something else?”

She turned back to Erywin. “What if he decided to stay with me because he felt obligated? What if he did and then hated me for what happened? What if he was miserable because I never asked him what he wanted because I knew what I wanted.”

“And there’s the problem—” She sighed. “All these things I wanted, I desired, they were there every time we visited in our dreams. What if they influenced my visions? I had my lake house vision after I knew Kerry was real—what if I only saw him in that vision because I wanted him there? What if what I wanted directed Kerry’s visions? What if—”

“That’s impossible.”

 

Annie has a lot of “What If?” going on, and she finally comes out and asks Kerry, “What if you’re not happy?  What if this isn’t want you want?  What if you stay with me and you’re miserable?  What if you’re pretty, what if you’re rich, here’s what they said–”  Sorry:  Annie almost broke into song there.  It’s all interesting questions, until someone–probably the boy who’s been listening to this for a while–lays just a bit of a smackdown on her.

But Annie’s so convinced she’s right, she’s gonna give him an argument–

 

Annie’s turned towards Kerry, who was now staring back with a look plastered across his face that didn’t hide his feelings. “But when we were in our dreamspace I could manipulate parts of the dream—”

“Because your magic allowed it; it was a form of lucid dreaming.” Kerry bowed his head for a moment. “You couldn’t have affected my subconscious with your own subconscious desire; it doesn’t work that way in dreamspace.”

“But what I wanted could have ended up in your mind—”

“I doesn’t matter what you wanted: you would have had to actively implanted a notion, and then erased my memory of the event.”

Annie wasn’t going to accept Kerry’s retorts. “What I saw in my visions—”

“Has nothing to do with what I saw in my visions.” He stood, shaking his head. “Annie, I know you want to think that you made me have those visions, but you couldn’t. Deanna said something the other night: you can’t make someone have visions. I know that, too, because I read it in those books you had me study. That’s how I also knew that . . . thing that happened to me was really a vision.”

 

This is the problem when you give your boyfriend a lot of books to read:  he reads them, then has the answers you don’t want to hear.  And he’s right:  Deanna already told Annie that she couldn’t make them have visions.  Annie’s position is that she influenced him with her subconscious, but Kerry’s got that one down:  no, you couldn’t.  Doesn’t work that way.  I know ’cause I read about it.

And now that he’s on his feet, it’s time for him to get something off his chest.

 

He approached Erywin as he addressed her. “I know Coraline said I was bothered when she saw me that night, and I was—but not because of what I saw, but more because . . .” He grimaced a little as he looked for the right words.

Erywin stepped in to help. “Unexpected and messy?”

“Yeah.” Kerry rolled his eyes. “But by the time we made it to lunch, I knew I’d had a vision—I knew it because of all the stuff I’d been reading about divination and visions and dreams for months. I also knew from reading that the best odds you could get have for a vision being true or not were fifty-fifty.” He turned towards Annie, who was now listening silently. “This was before I knew you had your vision, and that it was the same thing I’d had—”

“But you had yours months later.” Annie appeared to want to jump out of her seat. “Yours could have occurred—”

“You couldn’t make me have a vision. It’s impossible. If Professor Arrakis couldn’t do it, you couldn’t.” He turned back to Erywin. “Coraline and Deanna probably mentioned that I was upset, that I was agitated, but it’s not for what you think—”

 

And that is probably the only time Kerry has ever talked back to Annie like that, because he has to cool her down, and the only way to do it is by telling here in no uncertain terms that she can’t be right.  Sort of like a good sorceress keeping their head about them . . .

Which is what he does as he continues on why he was “agitated”–

 

He stood in front of Annie. “I wasn’t upset that I saw us together on our wedding night; I was upset that there was a chance that what I saw wouldn’t happen.” He slumped as all the energy seemed to leave him. “If it didn’t happen, it’s because we split and weren’t together any more. Or . . .” He looked down, whimpering once. “Something bad happened to one of us. Something—”

Annie jump out of her seat and took Kerry’s hands. “My love, nothing is going to happen to us, not like that.”

 

There it is:  he made the connection that if it doesn’t happen, it means they are no longer together.  Either they broke up, or–in a point he’s made before–one or both of them are dead.  And there’s more coming–which means, if you know Kerry, you know what else is coming . . .

 

When he looked up Annie saw that Kerry was fighting to keep his emotions in check, but it was clear he was under tremendous stress. “The morning after we told each other our names I came downstairs in the morning, and my mother was like, ‘What’s wrong with you? Why are you so happy?’ I didn’t know it, but I was smiling: my mom said it was the first time in four months I’d smiled. You know what I told her? I said, ‘I’ve been bike riding with my Chestnut Girl’. She thought I was nuts; she even said so. But I didn’t care, because I knew it was true. It was the best time I’d had in a long time—and it was even better because I shared it with you.

“You’ve been in my life as long as I can remember, and I can’t think of what I’d do without you, Annie.” His shoulders started to heave as he started to lose the fight with his emotions. “I’m not good with expressing myself—I know that. My family isn’t like you’re: there’s no romance and little in the way of affection. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know how I feel about you.” The tears started stream down his cheeks. “I don’t want anything to happen to you—to happen to us. I don’t want us apart; I don’t want you . . .”

Annie wrapped her arms around Kerry and comforted him as he released the pent up fear mingled with his love. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Kerry buried his head into her shoulder. “You said you never gave me a choice, that you decided everything for us.” He wrapped his arms around Annie’s waist and held her tight. “You been giving me a choice for the last ten minutes—” He pressed his cheek against hers. “I’m still here. I didn’t go. I couldn’t go. I don’t want to go.” Kerry kissed her cheek. “I don’t ever want to go.”

 

Annie told her mother about her Ginger Hair Boy, and we finally discover that, at one time, Kerry told his mother about his Chestnut Girl, and he was happy about it.  Mister Mope was actually happy after month of being sad and depressed, all because a girl in his dreams took him bike riding.  And yes, he cries, because Kerry hasn’t learned how to keep a rein on his emotions.  He’ll learn one of these days.

First scene out of the way, and it was a long one:  longer than all of Part Nine.

Funny how that works out.

Funny how that works out.

But the other three scenes should go quickly, because I don’t anticipate them being very long.  And I should point out that I’m about twenty-five hundred words away from fifty thousand for this act, which means Act Three is shaping up to be rather short compared to the first two.

Then again, I haven’t gotten to Part Twelve yet.

The Delicate Problem: The Discussion

I won’t say I was back in the swing of it last night, but I was, sort of.  By sort of, I mean I finished the scene with a fourteen hundred and fifty word run, so after only a handful the night before, I got it going on.  And that was with a lot of running around and stuff, trying to buy things before Snowmageddon descends upon The Burg tonight.

What do we learn in this scene?  Well, we learn that the kids are growing up, and . . . I should just let them talk.

 

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

“To get to that point, however, we need to establish a bit of a baseline. My question to you both is: were you sexually active before these visions occurred?”

Annie and Kerry glanced at each other before turning back to the adults. Annie shook her head and Kerry gave his answer. “No, we never did anything.”

“Well, there are difference kinds of sexual activity, Kerry.” Coraline sat back and crossed her legs, trying to appear less like the school’s medical officer and more like a friend. “For example, at your age, the most common activity are visual fantasies coupled with self pleasuring, because it’s common for you, as puberty kicks in, to begin exploring your body.” She straightened slightly. “Since your visions, has this happened?”

 

Nurse Coraline, always getting to the bottom of things in a hurry.  Given what she knows, let’s just say she’s not all the surprised by the answer . . .

 

This time there was an extended pause from both children. Kerry finally nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“Since last week?” Coraline wasn’t surprised to hear this; given how agitated the vision had made him initially, she felt it was only a matter of time before he . . . did something.

“Yeah. This last Wednesday night—” Annie shot him a quick stare. “—after Advanced Spells.”

“And were you imagining anyone . . .” Coraline didn’t want to name name’s—even though she was confident that Kerry only had one person on his mind. “. . . in this room?”

He nodded to his left. “Yeah.”

“I see.” She turned to the girl on his left. “Annie, I noticed the stare you shot Kerry. Any significance there?”

She took a deep breath. “I did the same thing.”

Coraline’s right eyebrow shot into her hairline. “When?”

Annie slowly turned to her soul mate. “The same night.”

Kerry turned his head towards her. “Really?”

“Yes. I started thinking about our visions and our dreams what we discussed with Professor Arrakis the morning before, and . . .” She slowly shrugged. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“Um . . .” A slight smile played out upon Kerry’s face. “I was thinking the same thing.”

 

I know someone once said, “Okay, you kids!  Get a room,” and apparently they did–their own!  Before they start getting their raging hormones, um, raging once more, Deanna steps in:

 

“I’ve noticed this in you both before—” Professor Arrakis’ soft tone interrupted the children’s train of thought before they started wondering about those vision discussions a bit too much. “I’m convinced that if whatever had been blocking Kerry’s knowledge of your shared dreams was absent that first day in Memory’s End, you both would had your shared vision simultaneously.” She looked towards Coraline with a bit of a grin crossing her face. “Though given what happened at the end . . .

“But there was a sameness to your auras that day, and it’s been noticed that you work together so well that more than a few of the instructors feel it’s almost as if you’re working at a level beyond conscious thought.” She slowly leaned back into her chair, much as Coraline had done. “I’m not surprised this happened.”

 

This is something that’s happened at a number of different points, one of which was Kerry thinking about Annie as he met his family in San Francisco, and Annie waking up at the same time and having her first thoughts be of Kerry.  Are those coincidences?  It would seem Deanna doesn’t think so.

It’s during this discussion we discover that the school has a plan in place to keep unwanted pregnancies down, because kids can get a little . . . crazy at these times, and there’s a lot of hiding places around the school for the crazy to get let out.

 

Coraline shook her head. “We hand them out every day—” A sly grin played across her face. “There’s enchantments in the food that work on both the girls and boys.”

Annie didn’t seem surprised, but Kerry found it interesting. “On us both?”

“Yes. The enchantments see to it that your little swimmers—” Coraline pointed at Kerry. “—don’t have the energy to break through an egg. Now, there’s always about a one and a half percent change that the they might, so our back up—” She pointed at Annie. “—is to make certain that the egg only has about a one percent chance of finding a resting place in your uterus. It’s also why if you came here with an irregular cycle, you’ll notice that problem doesn’t exist any longer.”

Annie looked off to the side as if she wasn’t concerned. “I never had that problem.”

Kerry nodded in agreement. “I’ve noticed.”

It took Coraline only a moment to put their last statements together and arrive at an answer. “Kerry, are you aware of Annie’s cycle?”

“You mean when she gets her period?” He looked at her as he nodded. “Sure. She told me months ago.”

“I figured it was best he knew.” She shrugged. “Better than being perplexed if I were to turn moody.”

He chucked. “Not that you do—”

“Not with you.”

“No.”

 

Being told months ago probably means back in November, after he declared his love, and Annie pulled him aside and said, “Kerry, there are moments when I’ve not a happy witch . . .” and then told him about the Sweet Mystery of Life and how it affects her.  And he doesn’t shy away from letting Nurse Coraline know when Annie gets “her period”:  knowing him, he’s got it marked out on his computer.

This leads Coraline to start talking about what they may want to do if they ever meet up over a summer–not this coming summer, no, I know they won’t, but when they get older–but Annie decides to let something out:

 

“Glad to hear that—I figured you’d remain monogamous even out of school. That leads to those instances in the future when you may find yourself visiting each other during the summer. In that case you’ll likely want to carry a contraceptive with you—”

“We won’t need it.”

Coraline had heard this line before, but hadn’t thought she’d hear it spoken by Annie. “I realize you’ll do your best not to go that far, but abstinence only goes so far—”

“We won’t do anything.” She shook her head. “I know we won’t because our wedding night was our first time.”

“I’m sorry—” Coraline nearly shook her head. “It was your first time?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I do.” A mask of seriousness descended over Annie’s face. “I felt it, and I know it to be true.”

“I felt it, too.” Kerry leaned forward, keeping his eyes on Coraline. “It was our first time to do—that.”

“How are you so sure?” Coraline didn’t want to doubt them, but she’d been in this position a few too many times in the past, and didn’t want to find these two making a mistake.

“It was like . . . I was nervous, like I knew we were going to do something we’d never done before.”

“Which we hadn’t.” Annie nodded as she reached for Kerry’s hand. “You have to believe us, Nurse Coraline. We didn’t have intercourse before that night.”

Coraline released a breath she’d held for a few seconds. “I don’t want to disagree with you, kids, but I have trouble believing that—”

“I don’t.”

All eyes in the space turned on Deanna as shifted on here chair. “Children, I think we could use a break. Would you mind going down to the first floor break area and wait for me?”

 

“So, first time, huh kids?”  Being a doctor Coraline–despite the nurse title, she really should get over that, but it’s worked for her for eleven years, why change now?–she’s suspicious when kids tell her, “Nuh, uh, we ain’t gonna do that,” because she’s certain she’ll discover a few months later they did.  And she hates to tell Annie she’s wrong, but when it comes to something like this–again, trust me, Kids, I’m a Doctor.

So why did Deanna chase them out of the room?  Because . . .

 

Coraline checked that the lift was gone before facing Deanna. “Okay, I know you know something, so gimme.”

“Tuesday morning, when I spoke with them about their visions, they were able to go into great detail than what you gleamed from Kerry that first time.” Deanna stood and shook the wrinkles out of her long skirt. “If what I’ve heard from them is true, they didn’t just have a vision, they were there—”

“That’s impossible. You can’t be inside a vision.”

“No, but they were so immersed in this one, they may as well have been there.” She almost threw up here hands. “If they say they knew they were virgins on their wedding night, then they were. That’s not an opinion—”

“It just means that they believed what they felt in the vision.” Coraline knew she should be arguing these things with the School Seer, but it was one thing to talk about sex in visions, and sexual behavior in their students in the real world. “That doesn’t make it so.”

“I know.” Deanna lay her hands on the back of her chair and leaned in. “There’s something going on with these two at a level either of us has yet to understand. It really goes beyond these instances where they sync up on certain things.”

Coraline sat on the edge of her chair, thinking. “It’s a bit scary, isn’t it?”

Deanna chucked. “More than you can imagine. It’s kept me up thinking about it on a few occasions.”

“Because these things keep happening with them?”

“No.” This time she snorted. “Because I can’t find any reason why they should.”

 

Is the School Seer not seeing something?  (Say that fast five times.)  Hard to say, but she believes the kids when they tell her they were unsullied that night, and she pulls out the V Word to press home her point.  Coraline’s still having a bit of trouble believing, but at the same time she knows there’s something really off about these two.

And you may find out what that is if I ever get around to writing the next novel about them.  Trust me:  I will spill.

Next up they get to do something that none of the other A Levels have done yet–

Not that.  Get your minds out of the gutter.

Not that. Get your minds out of the gutter.

–and we’ll see them having a discussion about stuff and things in front of an already-famous witch known to millions.

No, really.  It’s true.

The Delicate Problem: Opening Statements

Today is that magical day when I hop in the car and head back to The Burg.  A day filled with sitting behind the wheel for eleven hours, with a stop here and there to recharge.  Not sure what time I’ll pull back into the apartment, but I’ll kinda sleep in my own bed tonight–probably also need to take something to help me sleep, because I expect traffic to be a little messy going back.

I would say I'd be doing this around Cleavland, but it's more likely I'll start losing my mind around South Bend.

I would say I’d be doing this around Cleveland, but it’s more likely I’ll start losing my mind near South Bend.  And, no:  it doesn’t rock.

Because of a lot of things going on at what seemed like one time I only had about five hundred words written last night.  Only.  After doing over seven hundred in the morning, that’s close to another NaNo goal.  But NaNo is over as of today, and there’s no need to rush to get this done today.  In fact, it’s likely to be a light writing day, if there’s any at all.

In the meantime, what did happen yesterday?

Well, let me show you.  Because I didn’t write that much, and it’s leading into something that is going to affect my kids, so why not just show you?

 

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

Coraline knew she wouldn’t have long to wait for her visitors to arrive. The email she’d send last night said eight-fifteen, and they were running close to that time—and the person who’s volunteered to go pick them up in the Dining Hall was notorious for her punctuality.

She heard the lift arrive, and readied herself for what was coming next. The lift area was really the only permanent private area of the third floor: the rest was a single open area that could be configured however was necessary. Most of the time Coraline used this area for private examinations that she didn’t want others to know about, though they’d used this for emergency sleeping space and twice for a repair space for APs.

Deanna followed Annie and Kerry towards the circle of chairs about eight meters from the lift. Even from this distance it wasn’t hard to see that Kerry was a little anxious about Annie being present—particularly after Coraline had assured him last week that they’d met alone. But it was that meeting last week—and the discussions she had with Deanna in the wake of her conversations with both kids—that convinced her it best they all sit down together and have this chat.

“Hi there.” Coraline motioned towards the chairs. “Take a seat.” She watched carefully to see—yes. Kerry sat to Annie’s right. Never fails. “Okay, so . . . Kerry knows why we’re here, and Annie, the email you received last night explained the matter at hand.”

“I know why Annie’s here.” Kerry still looked a little nervous, but he’d settled down since entering the room.

Annie nodded. “We discussed it this morning before breakfast.”

“So you know this relates back to your visions.” Deanna took the chair across from Annie.

Kerry tried not to look bothered that everyone was going to discuss this matter together. “Yes, we get that.”

“It’s actually more than that—” Coraline sat and leaned forward. “Those visions—and Annie’s rune dream—have put you both in a delicate position of . . . I guess you could say it’s accelerated your sexual knowledge, particularly of each other, a bit more than what normally happens around here. Most of the time kids learn about sex the old fashion way, through stumbling and experimentation, though sometimes they come to me and ask questions before they’re too far along the path—and it’s always my intention to help them before any real damage is done.

“You don’t have that disadvantage any more: you’ve seen just about everything one could do on their wedding night, and I’ll take your word on it—” She pointed at Kerry. “—that you didn’t get to the main event in these visions.”

Annie and Kerry slowly stared at each other, then turned back to Coraline and Deanna, with Annie answering. “No. We didn’t see that.”

“Which is good.” Coraline turned to Deanna, then back to the kids. “We’re going to try and answer questions, and help you out when you find yourself in a situation that might find your willpower starting to falter.”

 

That Coraline:  she gets right down to business.  And it is an interesting position for her to find herself in, because these kids are in a unique position of having not only seen these . . . things, but also having felt the . . . stuff.  And once unseen and felt, you’re not simply gonna say, “Okay, forget all that and just go on with your lives.”  Naw, a little difficult to do anymore.

At least I’ll have plenty of time today to think this scene over.

It’s a bit awkward for me as well.