The large house echoed with emptiness, up on the hill over on
Davie Street. Surrounded by other semi-Victorian homes, trees and
gardens all around, it still looked oddly empty. Inside the only thing
left were boxes, one or two pieces of furniture and a few piles of books
left to be packed away by the two women who were talking in the living
room.
"All right, I can understand you wanting to move away," Rachel
frowned, the black haired girl helping her pack up her book cases into
some boxes, "after years spent living with the wicked bitch of the west
I'd want to move, too."
Nicole snorted, trying hard not to laugh at hearing her ex-lover
being talked about like that. The shorter redhead pushed her sweaty hair
up out of her face and muttered, "You'd better hope she doesn't hear you
calling her that."
"But up on the north coast?" Rachel continued on, completely
ignoring the comment, "And in a real haunted house? Are you nuts?"
"Probably," Nicole drawled, giving her best friend a grin, "but
I'm still doing it." She paused, "You're welcome to come up and visit,
though."
"I'll visit," Rachel sighed, "but only to try to keep you out of
trouble. You know I'd wither and die away from Vancouver's social
scene."
"True," Nicole picked up another box of books, stacking it up
with all the others. She looked over at them thoughtfully and softly
muttered, "I wonder if I'll be able to arrange mail order deliveries
from Little Sisters?"
"Ah, your supplier of trashy lesbian romances," Rachel nodded,
"I understand they will ship across the country, assuming they can get
the books past the border."
"There is that," Nicole sighed.
There was a long moment of dead silence in the large living
room, and Nicole looked up to see Rachel looking at her sadly. Much more
seriously her friend asked her, "You don't really have to move away, do
you?"
Nicole sighed softly, walking over to where her friend stood
there awkwardly "I'm blocked, Rach," she confessed to her softly, "for
the first time in years I can't write, not one single word." A long
moment of quiet, "And it's killing me."
"Shit," Rachel cursed, reaching out to hold Nicole gently. They
had known each other a hell of a lot of years, and all that time Nicole
had written almost constantly. If she really was blocked, something
serious was wrong.
"My writing, her affair, the break up, this place," Nicole waved
one handed around the now nearly empty old house, "it's all tied up
together in my mind. I can't write here anymore, and I just pray that
getting away from here will help."
"Yeah," Rachel reached up to wipe at her eyes as she tried to
lighten the mood a bit, "we can't have all those heterosexual romances
that you write so well come to a stop."
"What can I say," Nicole had a few tears in her eyes, too, "I
just write what I don't know. It seems to work, anyway." She smiled at
her friend wryly, "And it's not like I'm dropping off the face of the
Earth, you know. There's still phones and e-mail."
"You don't answer the phone, usually," Rachel said dryly, "or e-
mail."
"I'll try harder," Nicole promised, giving Rachel her sweetest
look.
"Yeah, yeah," Rachel looked at her doubtfully. She smiled,
"What's a self respecting dyke like you doing writing those straight
romances, anyway? Whatever happened to the Great Lesbian Novel that you
were going to write?"
Nicole chuckled, "It was sitting in a drawer." A slight smile,
"And now it's packed away in one of these damned boxes."
"Maybe you should dig it out," Rachel sighed, "it might be
enough to break through your block." She paused, "Do you ever wish we
had stayed lovers?"
"You are feeling sentimental today," Nicole smiled wryly, "we
were just kids then, Rachel. I figure we were lucky to get out of that
with our friendship still intact." Softly, "Besides, we make better
friends than lovers."
"True," Rachel backed off a bit. She looked around, then picked
up one of the last few boxes. "Well, lets get these out to the U-haul."
They finished up the rest of the packing, loading up the last of
the boxes and furniture onto the tightly packed U-haul truck outside.
"I'll be back to visit here, too." Nicole promised her friend softly,
"and for sure that I'll be back for Pride."
"Just be careful," Rachel hugged her friend close once again,
"if this ghost gives you some trouble, come on home! Use your good
sense, please."
"I'll try," Nicole answered softly. They said their final
farewells, Nicole climbed into the cab of the truck, and she was off.
The city passed her by, seeing the familiar shops and stores
disappear behind her. It took about twenty minutes to get out of the
city moving onto the highways and towards the north. The traffic was
quite dense to start with, thinning out as she went farther and farther
north.
'I'm glad that the weather's still clear,' Nicole noted. The
trees lined the road, less and less signs of human habitation around
her. In between the small towns scattered around, there was just the
road, a few other vehicles, and her.
She had a CD in the car stereo, background music for the drive.
It was one she mixed herself, a bit of Tatu, Etheridge, some Indigo
Girls, All about Eve and other bands. One of her favorites came up, and
with a slight smile she began to sign along.
"Won't you let your hair down, won't you kick your shoes off,"
she sang energetically if a bit off key, "maybe shake the blues off
awhile, or even crack a smile? Are you reading fortunes, or reading
Nietche, find another teacher, cause he's not worth an apple..."
She reached the town in the afternoon, slowing down as she ran
through the city center. It wasn't the largest town, but there was a
fair sized grocer, a decent library and a coffee shop, the essentials as
far as she was concerned. She left the town, bouncing up the rough road,
and smiled slightly as she came around the corner to her new home.
Journey's End. The beautiful turn of the century house sat not
far from the edge of a cliff, the sea far bellow. She stood there a
moment, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. She looked up at the
three story house, and silently debated her next move.
"I'd better get the bed inside, if nothing else," Nicole sighed
to herself, unlocking the front door of the house, leaving it open and
walking back to the truck..
Nicole wrestled the single bed and bedframe out of the back of
the truck, feeling a bit relieved that she had packed the single bed
away so that she could get at it easily later. She heaved the pieces
through the open door, then leaned them up against the hallway wall.
There was a momentary chill in the entrance way, and a figure
stood looking over at her curiously. Blonde hair flowed over her
shoulders, stirred by an unfelt breeze, her expression calmly
inquisitive. Oddly, Nicole didn't feel any danger coming from her, no
hostility at all.
"Good afternoon, Miss Reid," Nicole offered, hoping that the
information she had found was correct. The ghost looked rather startled,
and she added, "At least, I hope that's your name."
The ghost stood there in the hallway, looking at Nicole for a
few moments, then she nodded just slightly. With that, Laura Reid simply
faded away, the afternoon light brightening a bit as she disappeared
once again.
Nicole puffed out a breath, feeling oddly disappointed. "I
wonder if that's her way of saying hello," she murmured to herself
softly. She looked over at the bed pieces, the up at the stairs, and for
a moment she was tempted to just set the bed up in the living room.
'I'll have to get it up there sooner or later,' she thought, and with a
sigh began to drag the bed pieces upstairs.
A few hours later and most of the furniture and boxes were
inside, stacked roughly in the living room for now. Looking at the
pieces she had, Nicole knew she'd have to go buy a few more items of
furniture for the old house, but somehow it didn't bother her. In a way,
she was even looking forward to it. Tiredly she hauled herself upstairs,
flopping down on the bed to have a short break.
"What's your name?" the voice could have been a whisper of the
wind, it was so soft.
Nicole opened her eyes, seeing the ghost standing there by the
bed, looking down at her. "Nicole," she answered softly.
The ghost's lips tugged up in a smile, "Laura."
Nicole heaved herself up tiredly, sitting up on the bed. "It's
nice to meet you, Laura."
To be continued...
Author's Notes: Vancouver, British Columbia has a thriving gay and
lesbian neighborhood in the West End of the city, including Davie
Street. It's also near the corner of Davie and Bute that Little Sisters
Book and Art Emporium is based, the largest gay and lesbian book store
on Canada's west coast. That store is having an ongoing feud with Canada
Customs over what books can and can not cross over the border into the
country, as mentioned in the story For further information on this
there's a non-fiction book called 'Restricted Entry' about Little
Sister's battles with customs, and a pair of fund-raising comic books
called 'What's Right?' and 'What's Wrong?' The song that Nicole signs
along with in the truck is by the band All about Eve.
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