The Middle of Nowhere

I don't know what to say.

Every year it gets harder.

We can't forget. We can't act like it doesn't exist.

How many more do we have to lose?

We had beautiful weather last night, and it was fun to just sit out on the porch with Mike and hand out candy. We didn't have too many trick or treaters, but we had a great time carving the pumpkins and roasting the seeds and catching up with friends and neighbors.

I remember that big Halloween party back in high school, and I think Mike and I had sneaked out early... not that anyone was (or is, now that I'll admit it, ha!) likely surprised by that. But even with all the things that had happened that year, and the years since, I'm glad we moved back here. It's home really, more than Indiana ever was, I think.

Thanksgiving will be here soon, and both sets of parents will be visiting, hopefully Dennis and Jennifer too, maybe even more friends from Chicago. And anyone who might like to have dinner with us in town will be welcome too.

"Daaaaddd!"
Shelly bounces into the room looking quite accomplished.
"Look what I got!"
She pulls the neck of her tshirts to the side (a puffy princess sleeved number over a long sleeved thing decorated with tiny animals) and shows a little white strap. With tiny blue bunnies.

"Training bra!"
Pearl yells from out in the hall.
"Breathe, Jacki!"

At the thrift store today, there was a book called "Painting Landscapes"...Landscape didn't find it nearly as funny as I did.

Also, I had forgotten how loud babies are.

Today is my birthday. Mom is having babies in her and Dad's bedroom. Maybe people will remember once all that's done.

School had gone well these first few days. River has been as good as she can be, going where and when she was told, not causing any problems, doing her work. The teachers wondered sometimes if there hadn't been a mistake in her diagnosis.

So this is the first trouble she's given them, simply disappearing from her classroom and wandering the halls. There are voices still, they're calling to her.

But she's giving it a good try not to pay attention to them. She's mostly winning that battle.

Mostly.

The old farm James had worked and lived on through most of his high school days has fallen into a bit of disrepair over the years since its owner's unfortunate death so many years ago. The large house at its center, however, is still largely in good condition, aside from wanting for a new coat of paint and new wallpaper and furnishings within.

Jas leads Ernst inside and a loud 'clack' sounds from the old pushbutton light switch as he illuminates the old house's living room for them. There are two bedrooms upstairs and two down. Each floor has its own bathroom, the downstairs being only a half-bath and lacking a tub or shower. The upstairs restroom has a large old tub on four lion feet with a movable shower head hung just beside the faucet, its hose curling down behind the tub. The upstairs bedrooms are a master bedroom with its own bath where James has set up his things and a long, narrow room which currently holds old bunk beds without mattresses. The two lower bedrooms are a large square room and one of equal space, but which spreads it in a vague L shape and includes a large closet along one wall. Ernst is given his pick of the rooms, with the master bedroom being the only exception.

"I apologize that it's still such a mess. I've been meaning to have a maid in, but I simply haven't gotten around to it."

i am going to california and maybe muds is comeing but even if he isnt i am going anyway

so there


ps to that girl i was talk\ing to

wehn you go to school dont go in the boiler room

A truck should be arriving in the morning with the first shipment of James' belongings. He and all of his possessions have traveled a very long way to distance him from his worries and sadness. This place was always strange and suitably distracting. It is also the furthest piece of land from London that he still owns. His father left him a great deal, though no part of his inheritance has earned James' father an iota of forgiveness.

With little in his new home other than a few changes of clothes and basic toiletries, James is forced out into Middle Area for his supper. He takes to the streets and wanders a while before settling on a small diner to sit near the window and watch the world as he eats his small evening meal. A catalog of fencing supplies lays open on the table before him and he periodically highlights things and dog-ears pages. He'll need an estimate on expenses and a curriculum prepared if he's to convince the high school to add a fencing class once again.
Clear, clever blue eyes periodically scan the world outside and the dim booths within for any signs of the familiar.
His page turning and product marking is all done with his more functional left hand. He's able to feed himself with his false right hand, but smaller motor skills of the fingers are impossible.

This is a pretty place. There are grass and trees. And flowers.

I could like it here, though there are still the voices and I shouldn't hear them but I do.


Something bad happened here long ago. Things shouldn't be like this. People should quieten after they are dead.

But the dead are active here.

Though he is fairly well guaranteed to complain about being asked, it is only on rare occasions that Murdoc will refuse a request to join 2D in the basement. Right now, he only worries about the whining that awaits him when he has nothing much useful to say to the singer giving up on his decision to record a solo album. Murdoc didn't want that to begin with. He was beginning to show interest, though. It would bring them attention and money. It would keep Stu and Noodle at the studios and busy. Now he doesn't know what to do. He's sure he'll think of something quickly, though. He's quick like that. It's what he's here for.

He knocks once on the door, then lets himself in. He's almost dressed. Pants and a wife-beater at the same time counts as damn close for Muds around the 'house'.
"I still say an enema would help. It'd amuse me, either way."

i dont want to do that album anymore so im not going to
it was a stupid idea and i was stupid to think of it

im go-ing to bed

At that age... I seriously thought I was doing a good job hiding my gay. Today I'm going to announce at the dinner table that I'm a homosexual. I don't think anyone will be surprised. At all.

Takes all the fun out of it.


At least I can come out to all of you. Are any of you surprised? Anyone?

In fact- I had no idea what it meant at the time, but after that performance my Mom bought me a big rainbow sticker for my bike! She was making fun of me!
I seriously just got the joke. That's pretty funny.

The train ride hadn't been terribly long, but he'd been nervous and hadn't slept well for days beforehand. By the time he got to Middle Area, Ernst had been exhausted. He took a taxi to the motel, which wasn't as nice as he'd hoped but nice enough, he supposed. A shower was taken, and then a nap, which left him groggy and fuzzy-headed when he awoke.

Deciding a walk and maybe a light meal would possibly help, he got dressed (rather casually in a fitted black t-shirt and charcoal gray slacks, as he didn't have the energy for anything more formal) and he set out to wander the streets of the place he once called home.

So now he sits, idly picking at a sandwich that he knows he should be eating, and sipping a mineral water with lemon. He looks as if he could perhaps use some company.

((Can be tagged either at the cafe or after he's left. Ernst is terribly easy, haha.))

It seems I leave on Monday. I thought perhaps that I would be excited, but for the most part I am only frightened. I still haven't got any place to live, but Laird thought that it would be best for me to see the places in person. I suppose he's right, but still...I had hoped to have a home to come home to, if that makes any sense.

It seems I'll have to trust them with my cello, as it won't be allowed as carry-on luggage. I'm not pleased with this at all. If they damage it, I don't know what I'll do. It's all I have left at the moment, I couldn't take losing it.

I know I should rest. But I can't.

Grocery shopping. Just one more thing he had to get used to doing regularly now that he was caring for his sister alone. He started his new job in a few days and they had nothing in the house...and he wasn't sure how often he would be able to get out.

He just thanked heavens he could cook, at least. Both of them were vegetarian, though it did not look as if the Qing Ri Academy had followed that diet very stringently in River's case: she looked pale and somewhat sickly at the moment. But no wonder, she wasn't sleeping and eating was minimal at best some days.

River wandered, looking unfocused and studying the ends of her hair. Amazingly enough, she didn't bump into anyone. She picked up a box and began reading the sides.

"River, put that down, it's...got all sorts of preservatives in it." He takes it from her and puts it back on the shelf.

She looks up at him, frowning. "She isn't a child, don't have to tell her what to do. She was reading it."

Simon sighs. "I'm sorry, mei mei."

This was going to be far more difficult than he wanted it to be.

A few days ago I tried a new treatment, and so far, so good. I'm really trying to get her on an even keel before I send her to school in September.

God, am I crazy for doing this? I don't even know what they did to her. What am I setting loose in this town? She seems to know that there's something wrong but she can't seem to speak of it. I've tried to find out what happened to her but she can't or won't talk about it.

But I won't put her into an institution and I won't keep her home with only a caretaker--she needs to be re-socialized and she needs to see what normalcy is like...though we've never been a normal family. And we're even less so now.

We met with the special education department head today, and ran tests and talked to her and River did well. They seemed to accept the 'autism/mild schizophrenia' explanation for her behavior and her teachers seem as if they care for their students. So in September, my sister, who, before the Academy, was doing work on a collegiate level in normal school, will be in tenth grade in a special education class.

She's still in there, the girl I knew as my sister. I kept seeing flashes of it all day. I don't know how I'm going to get her out again.

First entry in the journal, though it's not of paper. The pixels seem to cooperate, but the computer seems too slow. Perhaps a lag? It must be investigated. Perhaps the processors are too slow.

Simon says we're home but this isn't home. We won't go home. The house is strange. Simon worries about leaving me alone when he works. I'm too old for daycare.

The way isn't clear here. It's misty and dim. Does anyone else see it? Or does everyone see it? It's all here, everything. Everyone. They're all still here. And they're angry.

I suppose it much better to be very busy, if not overworked, than bored from inactivity, but a bit of a breather would be nice. It's been almost two months since my birthday, and the amazing gift Mike gave me, and things are coming along so nicely. Come next spring, the new stables will be finished and that much closer to being a self-sustaining farm, crops and all. I've already got a space planned out for a large vegetable garden, a big strawberry patch, and we'll be donating whatever food we don't consume or can or make into preserves.

Mike's been making more progress too, and it's nothing short of fantastic. I can't get my hopes up about some things, but he's safe and healthy and home, and it doesn't get any better than that. I'm hoping we might be able to go somewhere for vacation this winter, just the two of us, and relax on a beach somewhere. I can dream, can't I?

EEEEE --> http://www.villagehatshop.com/ Somebody needs to buy me the Deadman top hat for my birthday, please and thank you.

Also, I saw a kid at the craft store wearing a red cape. Clearly, he is Superman. So we have a Superman and a Batman. The Justice League has been meeting in Middle Area right under my nose. ...I wonder if they need a Wonder Woman?