Alisaura
Blue Crack Supplier
It's that time again...
Disclaimer: All fiction... errors belong to me, song lyrics to their authors.
end of chapter 7:
--------
I want to apologise to him now, but it's far too late. How many Eds do you suppose there are in Dublin?
Lots. I think I've scared him off that hill for life, though, no matter how many dreams he has.
I sighed, and looked around again. I had the feeling that episode would make me redden with embarrassment and give me that uncomfortable, guilty feeling in my guts every time I thought about it, for the rest of my life. My face burned even then, and not from the sun. What an utter cow I was, behaving like that, and never even thinking of apologising until months later! What was I like? God. I really was a bitch. Maybe it took ten thousand miles of distance and two months of time for me to realise it, but I'd got there in the end.
----------
Chapter 8:
----------
...But you work in a shirt with your name tag on it
Drifting apart like a plate tectonic;
It don't matter to me, cos all I wanted to be,
Was a million miles from here, somewhere more familiar...
Once my mapping was completed, I stayed in Perth for another week, making my map pretty and writing a report for the company. I padded it out to a few thousand words, but it all boiled down to 'dig here'. I didn't find much evidence of the sort of motherlode every mining company dreams of, but there were signs of bauxite in the area I'd mapped. The world wasn't about to stop wanting aluminium, so I figured they'd got their money's worth out of me.
It was nice to be in a hotel room instead of the tent, as well. Back in civilisation again, all that mystical business with dreams and whatever else seemed more remote, just another fanciful flight of imagination. It was all very well to occasionally indulge myself in pretending to feel the spirit of the earth, but it was a long way from that to actually believing it. I knew it was all in my imagination – it was important for me to remember that.
It was also good to be able to speak to Glen again. I did so almost as soon as I checked into the hotel (right after a lengthy hot shower), thoroughly heedless of time differences. Which meant I called home first, but he'd already gone to work, so I rang there instead.
"Good morning, Glen Tha—"
"God, I missed you," I said, fighting an unexpected lump in my throat.
There was a moment of surprised silence on the line. "Lisa, honey, I've missed you too," Glen said, concern colouring his voice. "What's the matter?"
"Nothing, nothing's the matter. I just missed you." I bit my tongue, trying not to cry at the sound of his voice. Pull yourself together, woman!
"When will you be back?"
"The fifth, your time. I think I get into Cardiff at some ungodly hour... 6am, or something. The details should be on that piece of paper I left on the fridge. Send me a text if you can't find it. Although, by the time I get through security and everything, it'll probably be 7.30, and that's if the plane's on time..." I was babbling.
"It's okay, I'll find the piece of paper. Can you get to your email there?"
"I could send a smoke signal," I smiled. "Yes, there's internet here, but I really can't be bothered diving back into all that just yet. It can wait until I get home. Besides, they'll probably charge me extra."
There was a brief pause, and muffled sounds. I could imagine Glen covering the phone and waving someone away who wanted to talk to him about work. I smiled again.
"So, you're all right then? The snakes didn't get you?"
"No, nor the spiders or kangaroos or drop-bears."
I could almost hear him wondering at my uncharacteristically emotional greeting. I'd probably never done that before... I certainly couldn't remember missing him so badly before. It was those bloody dreams.
"What was that?" Glen said. Oops, had I been muttering?
"Nothing."
"You said something about dreams – have you had more of those nightmares?"
"Yeah, a couple," I admitted. I could almost remember them now, although I certainly didn't want to.
"Aw, love," he said. There was a hug in his voice, and that made me tear up again.
"Cut it out, I'm turning into a blubbering mess," I said, trying to lighten my tone.
"Finally!" Glen sighed melodramatically. "I knew that rock you call a heart would melt sooner or later."
I had an image of molten lava burning a hole through my innards. "That doesn't sound appealing at all. Don't make any wedding plans yet," I warned.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Glen said, with far too innocent a tone. So much for his protestations of indifference on the nuptial front! I laughed, though, and so did he.
"I'll see you on the fifth then," he said, and I knew that someone more important was probably hovering over his shoulder.
"Love you," I said, and hung up. I blew my nose and told myself I was being ridiculous.
Well, perhaps not. Plenty of other women missed their husbands or partners desperately whenever they were apart... I just hadn't until now. Not that much. Did that mean something had changed? Did Glen want to get married after all? We'd talked about it years before, and had agreed that it was a lot of fuss and bother, and we hadn't seen the point. We were happy as we were, and my name was known as it was; I had no desire to change it.
----
A few nights later, still in the Perth hotel, I dreamed again.
I was back in the Welsh valley, tagging along in that other woman's mind. Something was different, however. It was daylight, summer, the sun warm on our heads. I looked up the valley to the hill... there was a brief, disorienting moment when I expected to see a stone circle there, but then the dream took hold, and I remembered there were no standing stones, only wooden posts, and an altar stone. Ewain had been speaking with me about that very thing...
"Do you see? A circle of stone, to truly honour Earth. There is a place, to the west, where there is powerful stone. It will take time, and hard work, but we can build a sacred place that will ensure bountiful crops forever..."
"This place is already sacred, Ewain. It was sacred before anyone settled here, it is why they settled here. Earth is strong here, and it is strongest on that hill."
He had already convinced me, but I loved to goad him, to see the fire in his eyes. Half of the village was convinced too, and the other half was wavering. Last year's crop had not been plentiful, and the winter had been uncomfortably lean. Perhaps a few oak logs and a stone altar were not enough anymore. That they had sufficed for generations before us did not mean they would suffice forever. Spirits of Earth are not as unchanging as some would have you believe. I knew this, I had been taught well by Eleri, the Ritemaster before me. With a pang, I wished once more that she was still among the living – I was young to the role, and the elders still grumbled.
"You love to argue, Mag, although I know it's just for show this time," Ewain said, smiling down at me with laughing hazel eyes. I raised a hand to his short-cropped beard, and smiled back.
"If I do not practice, I will forget how to argue," I replied.
"Little fear the elders will allow that to happen," he said, and I laughed. Once my hand was on his face, I found it hard to remove it.
"Where is Alun today?" Ewain asked, a certain light coming into his eyes. It had probably kindled in mine first, I thought.
"My mate is in the fields, as ever," I said. I was fond of Alun, it's true, and he had given me three children, two of whom still lived. But Ritemasters are permitted some leeway, especially those of Earth, as I was. And it was not natural to deny the fire that burned between Ewain and I. I knew it would burn itself out, in time; he was influenced by Fire, for all that he had settled well enough in our village. Of course, every village had people of all four influences, that was simply how it was. Our village was near a place sacred to Earth, that was all.
Eleri had still been alive when he had arrived from the west, and those two had never been able to see eye to eye. The old Ritemaster had warned me off him, saying no good ever came of getting mixed up with Fire people, but she had bitter memories of her own mate. I knew now that she had only been trying to protect me from being hurt when our fire dwindled, but such protection wasn't necessary.
In the damp, flower-studded grasses of the valley, on the earth, and under the sky, I knew our fire had not dwindled yet.
I woke up then, again disoriented, and again reaching out for Glen... or whoever that man had been. Reaching out for a different reason, this time... of all the times to be ten thousand miles away from your partner! I sighed heavily. These dreams knew different sorts of intensity, it seemed. Well, it was easy enough to interpret that one, I thought. I missed Glen, plain and simple. A lot. Why my brain had disguised him as that Ewain guy, I couldn't guess. Nor why the same guy had been in the earlier dream, when the circle had been newly built. My subconscious was jumping all over the place, in time as well as space. I wondered idly how long it would have taken to build that circle, and how far away they would have had to quarry the stone.
I looked at the clock with another sigh. It was earlier than I would have liked, but I didn't think I was likely to get much more sleep. There was work to be done, after all, and I needed a cold shower.
----
I think Glen was rather pleasantly surprised by the enthusiasm of my greeting at the airport. He spun me round in a circle, laughing, like every clichéd airport reunion you've ever seen on TV. And then we had the big, clichéd snog.
"Well, it's good to see you too," he said, once we'd come up for air.
I wasn't sure when I'd started thinking of Wales as home, but I did now. "It's been a while since I've been out of contact for that long," I said, towing my bag towards the car park. Glen took the lead, since he knew where he'd parked. I just wanted to get home.
"Is that all it is?"
"Probably," I said, not wanting him to attach too much significance to my effusiveness. My initial reaction was wearing off, and my body was remembering that it had just travelled a very long way, via Johannesburg, and it was far too early in the morning.
"Does this mean no more three-month contracts in far-flung countries, then?"
"Well, I don't know about that. But I think I've found a renewed appreciation for this country," I winked.
Somewhat later in the day, once we'd had a proper reunion at home, Glen suddenly smacked his forehead.
"Dammit! I totally forgot... Call your bleedin' mother! You forgot to tell them you were going overseas, didn't you?"
My stomach plummeted. "Oh my god, I did! How the hell did I manage that?" I glanced nervously at Glen. "Was she very angry?"
"Not very," Glen said, stressing the word. "More like worried sick. And of course, I should have remembered to tell them, if you didn't," he added, affecting an overly posh English accent.
"She doesn't sound like that," I said, still kicking myself.
"Maybe not to you. You'd better call her now, she's probably about to organise a world search."
"You did tell her where I was, didn't you? When did she call?"
"Yes, of course I did! She rang a month ago, and every week since then, although I told her you'd be out of contact until today. Lucky for you I forgot that you'd be in a hotel for that last week."
"You didn't mention this when I rang from Perth," I said, trying to summon a defence.
"It went straight out of my head, between work and hearing your voice like that," Glen replied, his demeanour softening. He reached across to rumple my hair. His fingers tangled – it definitely needed a trim by now.
After dinner that night, I finally got around to checking my email. And after my mother's harangue about keeping in touch with people, I figured it wasn't worth putting it off any longer. Predictably, there were several from both of my parents, although my father wasn't as comfortable with the internet as my mother was. I hoped I'd managed to reassure them both that I was perfectly healthy, and would never dream of taking off without telling them again. I'd finally got off the phone, using jetlag as an excuse. It wasn't entirely fabricated.
I glanced at a couple of job opportunities, and told myself I'd read them properly the next day, or whenever the jetlag allowed me to resume normal functions. There were a few notes from friends, inviting me to things than had been and gone. I fired off a group email to tell them I was back – I'd had the presence of mind to put an "out of office" auto-reply on my email, at least. I ignored all the list emails, I'd lost track of the discussions entirely, and deleted the lot. And then there was the ever-present spam, of course. Delete, delete, delete.
Wait. My eye had caught something as I'd deleted the last one, and I went into the Trash folder to check it. There it was, in an untitled message, at the bottom – "Ed".
----------------------
Disclaimer: All fiction... errors belong to me, song lyrics to their authors.
end of chapter 7:
--------
I want to apologise to him now, but it's far too late. How many Eds do you suppose there are in Dublin?
Lots. I think I've scared him off that hill for life, though, no matter how many dreams he has.
I sighed, and looked around again. I had the feeling that episode would make me redden with embarrassment and give me that uncomfortable, guilty feeling in my guts every time I thought about it, for the rest of my life. My face burned even then, and not from the sun. What an utter cow I was, behaving like that, and never even thinking of apologising until months later! What was I like? God. I really was a bitch. Maybe it took ten thousand miles of distance and two months of time for me to realise it, but I'd got there in the end.
----------
Chapter 8:
----------
...But you work in a shirt with your name tag on it
Drifting apart like a plate tectonic;
It don't matter to me, cos all I wanted to be,
Was a million miles from here, somewhere more familiar...
Once my mapping was completed, I stayed in Perth for another week, making my map pretty and writing a report for the company. I padded it out to a few thousand words, but it all boiled down to 'dig here'. I didn't find much evidence of the sort of motherlode every mining company dreams of, but there were signs of bauxite in the area I'd mapped. The world wasn't about to stop wanting aluminium, so I figured they'd got their money's worth out of me.
It was nice to be in a hotel room instead of the tent, as well. Back in civilisation again, all that mystical business with dreams and whatever else seemed more remote, just another fanciful flight of imagination. It was all very well to occasionally indulge myself in pretending to feel the spirit of the earth, but it was a long way from that to actually believing it. I knew it was all in my imagination – it was important for me to remember that.
It was also good to be able to speak to Glen again. I did so almost as soon as I checked into the hotel (right after a lengthy hot shower), thoroughly heedless of time differences. Which meant I called home first, but he'd already gone to work, so I rang there instead.
"Good morning, Glen Tha—"
"God, I missed you," I said, fighting an unexpected lump in my throat.
There was a moment of surprised silence on the line. "Lisa, honey, I've missed you too," Glen said, concern colouring his voice. "What's the matter?"
"Nothing, nothing's the matter. I just missed you." I bit my tongue, trying not to cry at the sound of his voice. Pull yourself together, woman!
"When will you be back?"
"The fifth, your time. I think I get into Cardiff at some ungodly hour... 6am, or something. The details should be on that piece of paper I left on the fridge. Send me a text if you can't find it. Although, by the time I get through security and everything, it'll probably be 7.30, and that's if the plane's on time..." I was babbling.
"It's okay, I'll find the piece of paper. Can you get to your email there?"
"I could send a smoke signal," I smiled. "Yes, there's internet here, but I really can't be bothered diving back into all that just yet. It can wait until I get home. Besides, they'll probably charge me extra."
There was a brief pause, and muffled sounds. I could imagine Glen covering the phone and waving someone away who wanted to talk to him about work. I smiled again.
"So, you're all right then? The snakes didn't get you?"
"No, nor the spiders or kangaroos or drop-bears."
I could almost hear him wondering at my uncharacteristically emotional greeting. I'd probably never done that before... I certainly couldn't remember missing him so badly before. It was those bloody dreams.
"What was that?" Glen said. Oops, had I been muttering?
"Nothing."
"You said something about dreams – have you had more of those nightmares?"
"Yeah, a couple," I admitted. I could almost remember them now, although I certainly didn't want to.
"Aw, love," he said. There was a hug in his voice, and that made me tear up again.
"Cut it out, I'm turning into a blubbering mess," I said, trying to lighten my tone.
"Finally!" Glen sighed melodramatically. "I knew that rock you call a heart would melt sooner or later."
I had an image of molten lava burning a hole through my innards. "That doesn't sound appealing at all. Don't make any wedding plans yet," I warned.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Glen said, with far too innocent a tone. So much for his protestations of indifference on the nuptial front! I laughed, though, and so did he.
"I'll see you on the fifth then," he said, and I knew that someone more important was probably hovering over his shoulder.
"Love you," I said, and hung up. I blew my nose and told myself I was being ridiculous.
Well, perhaps not. Plenty of other women missed their husbands or partners desperately whenever they were apart... I just hadn't until now. Not that much. Did that mean something had changed? Did Glen want to get married after all? We'd talked about it years before, and had agreed that it was a lot of fuss and bother, and we hadn't seen the point. We were happy as we were, and my name was known as it was; I had no desire to change it.
----
A few nights later, still in the Perth hotel, I dreamed again.
I was back in the Welsh valley, tagging along in that other woman's mind. Something was different, however. It was daylight, summer, the sun warm on our heads. I looked up the valley to the hill... there was a brief, disorienting moment when I expected to see a stone circle there, but then the dream took hold, and I remembered there were no standing stones, only wooden posts, and an altar stone. Ewain had been speaking with me about that very thing...
"Do you see? A circle of stone, to truly honour Earth. There is a place, to the west, where there is powerful stone. It will take time, and hard work, but we can build a sacred place that will ensure bountiful crops forever..."
"This place is already sacred, Ewain. It was sacred before anyone settled here, it is why they settled here. Earth is strong here, and it is strongest on that hill."
He had already convinced me, but I loved to goad him, to see the fire in his eyes. Half of the village was convinced too, and the other half was wavering. Last year's crop had not been plentiful, and the winter had been uncomfortably lean. Perhaps a few oak logs and a stone altar were not enough anymore. That they had sufficed for generations before us did not mean they would suffice forever. Spirits of Earth are not as unchanging as some would have you believe. I knew this, I had been taught well by Eleri, the Ritemaster before me. With a pang, I wished once more that she was still among the living – I was young to the role, and the elders still grumbled.
"You love to argue, Mag, although I know it's just for show this time," Ewain said, smiling down at me with laughing hazel eyes. I raised a hand to his short-cropped beard, and smiled back.
"If I do not practice, I will forget how to argue," I replied.
"Little fear the elders will allow that to happen," he said, and I laughed. Once my hand was on his face, I found it hard to remove it.
"Where is Alun today?" Ewain asked, a certain light coming into his eyes. It had probably kindled in mine first, I thought.
"My mate is in the fields, as ever," I said. I was fond of Alun, it's true, and he had given me three children, two of whom still lived. But Ritemasters are permitted some leeway, especially those of Earth, as I was. And it was not natural to deny the fire that burned between Ewain and I. I knew it would burn itself out, in time; he was influenced by Fire, for all that he had settled well enough in our village. Of course, every village had people of all four influences, that was simply how it was. Our village was near a place sacred to Earth, that was all.
Eleri had still been alive when he had arrived from the west, and those two had never been able to see eye to eye. The old Ritemaster had warned me off him, saying no good ever came of getting mixed up with Fire people, but she had bitter memories of her own mate. I knew now that she had only been trying to protect me from being hurt when our fire dwindled, but such protection wasn't necessary.
In the damp, flower-studded grasses of the valley, on the earth, and under the sky, I knew our fire had not dwindled yet.
I woke up then, again disoriented, and again reaching out for Glen... or whoever that man had been. Reaching out for a different reason, this time... of all the times to be ten thousand miles away from your partner! I sighed heavily. These dreams knew different sorts of intensity, it seemed. Well, it was easy enough to interpret that one, I thought. I missed Glen, plain and simple. A lot. Why my brain had disguised him as that Ewain guy, I couldn't guess. Nor why the same guy had been in the earlier dream, when the circle had been newly built. My subconscious was jumping all over the place, in time as well as space. I wondered idly how long it would have taken to build that circle, and how far away they would have had to quarry the stone.
I looked at the clock with another sigh. It was earlier than I would have liked, but I didn't think I was likely to get much more sleep. There was work to be done, after all, and I needed a cold shower.
----
I think Glen was rather pleasantly surprised by the enthusiasm of my greeting at the airport. He spun me round in a circle, laughing, like every clichéd airport reunion you've ever seen on TV. And then we had the big, clichéd snog.
"Well, it's good to see you too," he said, once we'd come up for air.
I wasn't sure when I'd started thinking of Wales as home, but I did now. "It's been a while since I've been out of contact for that long," I said, towing my bag towards the car park. Glen took the lead, since he knew where he'd parked. I just wanted to get home.
"Is that all it is?"
"Probably," I said, not wanting him to attach too much significance to my effusiveness. My initial reaction was wearing off, and my body was remembering that it had just travelled a very long way, via Johannesburg, and it was far too early in the morning.
"Does this mean no more three-month contracts in far-flung countries, then?"
"Well, I don't know about that. But I think I've found a renewed appreciation for this country," I winked.
Somewhat later in the day, once we'd had a proper reunion at home, Glen suddenly smacked his forehead.
"Dammit! I totally forgot... Call your bleedin' mother! You forgot to tell them you were going overseas, didn't you?"
My stomach plummeted. "Oh my god, I did! How the hell did I manage that?" I glanced nervously at Glen. "Was she very angry?"
"Not very," Glen said, stressing the word. "More like worried sick. And of course, I should have remembered to tell them, if you didn't," he added, affecting an overly posh English accent.
"She doesn't sound like that," I said, still kicking myself.
"Maybe not to you. You'd better call her now, she's probably about to organise a world search."
"You did tell her where I was, didn't you? When did she call?"
"Yes, of course I did! She rang a month ago, and every week since then, although I told her you'd be out of contact until today. Lucky for you I forgot that you'd be in a hotel for that last week."
"You didn't mention this when I rang from Perth," I said, trying to summon a defence.
"It went straight out of my head, between work and hearing your voice like that," Glen replied, his demeanour softening. He reached across to rumple my hair. His fingers tangled – it definitely needed a trim by now.
After dinner that night, I finally got around to checking my email. And after my mother's harangue about keeping in touch with people, I figured it wasn't worth putting it off any longer. Predictably, there were several from both of my parents, although my father wasn't as comfortable with the internet as my mother was. I hoped I'd managed to reassure them both that I was perfectly healthy, and would never dream of taking off without telling them again. I'd finally got off the phone, using jetlag as an excuse. It wasn't entirely fabricated.
I glanced at a couple of job opportunities, and told myself I'd read them properly the next day, or whenever the jetlag allowed me to resume normal functions. There were a few notes from friends, inviting me to things than had been and gone. I fired off a group email to tell them I was back – I'd had the presence of mind to put an "out of office" auto-reply on my email, at least. I ignored all the list emails, I'd lost track of the discussions entirely, and deleted the lot. And then there was the ever-present spam, of course. Delete, delete, delete.
Wait. My eye had caught something as I'd deleted the last one, and I went into the Trash folder to check it. There it was, in an untitled message, at the bottom – "Ed".
----------------------
.... I think you like teasing us!
No fair! 
I want more! I can't wait till next week!
Would you believe I missed this....again...ack...
They each have their own appeal, I guess. 
