chapter 3 or 4

Chapter 3

                Vanessa found herself back in front of the picture window looking out at the water of the bay. The drive home was better than she had expected, she had listened to Kenny Rogers on an old cassette that her father used to play when she was a girl. He would sing the songs from that tape over and over as he took her and her brothers back and forth to school. “Love will turn you around” played it guitar riffs and a soft peace settled on her as she drove.

                When would the ship come? Would it be the same boat that Uncle had folded up and put in his pocket? She smiled at the misty memory, hugging herself as she remembered the warmth of his embrace as he had carried her out of the boat and up the shore to the… standing stones? The memory flashed into her mind and suddenly she could feel the ocean breeze tickling the hair at the nape of her neck. She shivered at the thought as she reached up for his hand.

                Vanessa froze with her hand pressed against the window pane and the whistling wind was gone. She looked out into the night at the stars reflecting off the water. The stones faded away into the clouds crossing the sky and the reflection of her face looking back at her.  She blinked a few times and wondered if this was going to happen often. She pulled her arm down to her side, arched her back like a cat and yawned.

                She dressed for bed but then sat on the bed spread in the semi darkness wondering about what was going to happen next. How much time would she have before the ship would come to take her away? Did she have enough time to settle her affairs? Where would she store her stuff?

                Your stuff? Vanessa? Really, are you kidding me? She chided herself. She would need to sell it or give it away but to who? She shook herself not liking the thought of losing all she had gained for herself, the furniture, the pictures, the prints of Salvador and Elmore, her LCD TV…. She laughed. My stuff.

                Was Quest her Tyler Durden? Was she like the Fight Club guy, so attached to the things that had no meaning beyond the IKEA catalogs? Where she was going would there be any such need for a snap together couch or one of those nightmare book shelves of pressboard from Wal-Mart?

                If that was so, what could she expect to take with her? Would there be electricity? Oh god, would her cell phone get a signal? The giggle bubbled up from wherever the laugh had come from.

                Who am I kidding? Cell phone signal? Really, Vanessa get a grip! Am I so fickle? What do you want? Am I ready? Well what did she really want?

                I want to go home.

                She curled up in the sheets her mother had given her for Christmas in her bed from Rooms to go and tried to sleep in a condo that she now realized had never been her home. Sleep came finally but rest did not come for what seemed like an eternity.