Decision Over Breakfast

     As I followed the driver, I realized that I didn't know his name.  I had talked to him a fair bit while we were traveling, but I never asked him of it.  He told me is name was \cf2 Mark Conners\cf1 .
     "It's nice to meet you." I smiled, "I'm sorry about the way I reacted earlier."
     "It's ok.  It's typical of immigrants like yourself." He replied.  I watched with curiosity as we passed an advertisement for "What do you know?", a restaurant in the downtown core.  I stared for a few moments at the scene before me.  People were eating and drinking in the advertisement as if they didn't know or care that people were staring at them, yet there was no sound.  It was like watching television with the sound off.  I shook my head fast, trying to clear the cobwebbs from it, but all it elicited was the start of a headache.
    "Are you all right?" The driver was ahead of me, at the entrance to a restaurant called 'Anne and Wiley's'.
    "Uh, yeah, I'm coming." I followed the man to the entrance whereupon, he spoke to the hostess in whispered tones.  I could feel my tension rise as my fist clenched my purse string.  I hated it when people conversed about me behind my back.
     "Right this way please." The hostess smiled, and she lead us to a small booth near the back of the restaurant, "I will get your server."
     "Wait here.  She will get \cf2 Cathy\cf1 , and your meal is on me." He smiled, "I hope to see you again."
     "Thank you Mark, but you don't have to do that." I smiled as I set my backpack beside my suitcases and sat at the booth with my back to the window "I want to.  It's your first day in Kent, and I want to welcome you." He smiled, "It has already been arranged, so don't worry about it.  Goodbye Mary."
     "Goodbye Mark, and thanks again." I smiled and he went on his way.  I turned to the menu that had been placed before me and studied it.  I was ravenous.  It wasn't long before a a women with dark hair dressed in black and wearing a knee length outfit with a white apron aproched the table. She had long wavy black hair and blue eyes.
     "Hi.  I'm Cathy. Mark told me that you came on the bus today." She introduced herself. I stood and offered my hand. My words tumbled out of my mouth, "Hi.  I'm Mary Ann DeRoss.  Yes, he told me about you and that I am in a place called Kent.  Where am I really?  I have to get back home, or at least find a way to let my mother know I am all right."
     "Hey, it's ok." Her voice was gentle as she shook my hand and gestured to the booth I had just vacated. "Sit, you can look at the menu while we talk.  But before we start, what would you like to drink?"
     "Diet Pepsi or Coke - whichever you have." I smiled.  I was glad I could get my favorite drink.
     "It's yours." Cathy smiled and went to get the beverage.  I seated myself at the table and busied myself with the menu.  I had just selected what I would have when she returned with the drink.  I told her what I wanted, and the order was placed.  When she came back, she slid into the booth, carring an ipad and a soft drink of her own.
     "Uh, I'm going to keep you from my job.  Maybe I should come back after your shift." I could feel my cheeks redden with embarassment as I felt I had been causing her to do something she shouldn't.  I prayed that she was on her break anyway.
     "It's ok." Cathy smiled reassuringly, "I have two jobs, and the owners think it's a great idea to have someone here for immigrants like yourself to talk to."
     "I guess you're right.  I thought I was going nuts when I found out that I wasn't in Edmonton." I drank eagerly.
     "Whoa, you really like that drink, don't you?" She asked.\par
      "Well, I haven't had it in a while, and I am thirsty." I could feel my cheeks color, for I couldn't admit to her, but I had to admit to myself at least that I liked the drink more than any other.  Another waitress came and we ordered our meals.  I hoped it would come soon.
     "I see." She nodded as she stirred her lemon water and sipped it.  Then she began telling me about the city of Kent. An image appeared in front of me, and I couldn't keep my eyes off it.
     "In the eighteen hundreds, while looking for Fort Edmonton, Elias Kaden found this place.  He found out that his crop seeds thrived here just as well as in Canada, so he and his wife decided to stay, hoping that others would find it as well.  Their only concern was that she was expecting their first child any day." She explained that within the year, three families had also found the area, and that they decided to think of a settlement name.  Since Elias had taken a prominent position as leader, it was given to him to think of a name.  He chose the name of his son, Kent." Cathy drank some more water.
     "So did they figure out why they found the place?" Mary asked, "I mean, they had to have some magical blood in them, just like me."
     "Nobody knows why, but as their children grew, the adults found out their children grew up magical.  Some were afraid, but others were excepting because they were the next generation.  So, they continued to thrive.  It wasn't until the past century that they found out that Elias Kaden had decendants who were magic as well, and that the key was that he was an explorer willing to try new things."     "That's it? I looked up from the image for the first time, "He wanted to try new things?"
     "Apparently. I agree, it's intriguing.  We are still learning about the reasons why we were given this place.  We learn more every year, but the more we learn, the more there is a mystery." The image faded as our meals arrived.
     "So, what are you going to do now that you're here?" Cathy picked up her spoon and spooned up some yogurt and fruit from a huge parfait glass.
     "I don't know." I picked up my knife and fork as I surveyed the plate of ham, eggs, homestyle potatoes and tost.  I chose to cut into the ham first. "I was supposed to meet my mother.  How can I get back?"
     Cathy raised an eyebrow, "Do you want to go back?  It seems that you're running from something, so wouldn't going back be the wrong thing to do?"\par
My mouth began to drop, but I immediately closed it; it was filled with food, and I didn't want to be gross, "How do you know?"

     "The crystal knows, and sends your file here." She pointed to her ipad, "It doesn't say what, but it's not up to us to know."
     "Crystal?  What crystal?" I asked, "I don't have a crystal, and what right do you have to gather information like that?" My fists clenched around the knife and fork.
     "Hey, yes you do have one.  You've probably had one all your life, and not known it.  I have one." She touched an almost clear spot on her forehead. I reached for my own and found a raised spot of what felt like glass.
"What do they do?"
     "Your life is recorded there; not every moment, nor your thoughts, but the major events.  With training, you could record anything you wanted.  When you die, they go to a special facility dealing with personal history."
      My head began to spin.  \lang4105\i What would happen if somehow it could be removed?\i0  I thought
     Cathy seemed to be reading my mind, "Crystals can't be removed.  They can be cracked though."\par
     "Cracked?"    
     "Yes. If you have been violated in any way, a crystal cracks.  Sometimes they heal, and other times they don't.  It all depends on the person." She looked closely at me.  I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.
     "What?" I asked.
     "I think yours is cracked, but I'm no judge.  What I suggest is that you call your mother and see what she says." She said.
"I have been thinking about it, and I think I had better stay.  You're right, I would be found if I went back to Edmonton.  I had better start my life over here." I picked up my fork once more and started eating my eggs, "I'll call her right after breakfast."

Where am I? - Blogger: Mary Anne DeRoss

Date:  April 1, 2013
Time:  10:15am
Dear Diary,

I left the bus, turning right to await my suitcases.  The driver stepped lightly down the stairs, landing at my side.  I turned to him, "Sir, where are the others?  I was supposed to get off at Edmonton, with them, but there are only five of us here."

He inhaled sharply, "Let me see your ticket."

I showed it to him, and he examined it, "No, it's correct.  It says..."

"Excuse me dear." Mrs. Komax laid her hand on my shoulder, "I don't mean to interrupt you, but my daughter will be waiting outside, and she gets very impatient when I'm not there on time.  Could you get my bag please driver?"

"Of course." He said.  It was his turn to place his hand on my shoulder.  It was large, yet muscular.  "Wait here."

I nodded as I watched him unlock the door and extricate our bags.  He rolled mine over to me.  The others thanked him and said their goodbyes.  Upon closing and locking the bus door, he turned back to me and held out his hand, "Now that that's done, let's see your ticket."

I gave it to him, and watched as he looked it over, and subsequently ran his eye over me.  "No, it says Kent Alberta, not Edmonton Alberta."

"I've never heard of Kent!  Where am I really?"

"You're in Kent." He said calmly.

I let my backpack fall to the ground, "What am I going to do?  How do I get back?"

"Are you certain you want to get back?" The driver queried.

"What?" I began to feel like I was in the twilight zone, like something was out of phase.  My attention was averted by a sign which caught my eye, for some reason.  I glanced at it.  It was an advertisement for Coke.  A person was lounging on the beach and drinking the beverage, but she moved!  As she drank, the bottle was emptied! I gasped, "She moved!"

The driver nodded, "Yes, she's supposed to.  She gets thirsty every so often."

I scoffed, "Pictures aren't supposed to move!"

"Are we going to stand here talking about the picture or get you somewhere safe?  I have a family to get home to.  You are in Kent, a magical place.  Look, I will get you to the restaurant.  One of the waitresses will be able to help you.  Her name is Kathy." His voice softened as he took hold of the handles of my suitcases, "Look, I know you've been through a lot, and I'm willing to help.  You need some food, and someone who can help you more than I can.  I would like to introduce you to someone who works here, and she can explain what's going on."

"Ok." I blew out my cheeks and followed him through the doors and into the main bus station.  He seemed to know more about me than I told him.  My heart beat faster as I followed him. 

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I've noticed that I've been able to mark down the dialog clearly again.  What gives?

They're Gone! Blogger: Mary Anne DeRoss

Date:  April 1, 2013
Time:  10:00am
Dear Diary,

"Miss?  Miss?"

"Hmmm?" I groaned and opened my eyes.  An elderly lady was shaking me awake.  She had been sitting across from me.  She was leaning across my backpack and smiling. 

"The driver said to wake you dear.  We're almost at our destination." She slipped back into her seat.

"Thank you." I took off my glasses and rubbed my eyes, "I'm so tired."

"You do look tired dear." She nodded.

I nodded, not knowing what to say.  I sat up straighter in my seat and looked around.  Gone were most of the people who were supposed to be getting off with me; there were only three people, not including me.  "Where is everybody?"

"Pardon me dear?" I gazed around at each of the chairs in turn. 

"There were at least fifteen people on the bus, including us.  As far as I know, they were all destined for the same place as far as I knew since Edmonton was the last stop." I could feel my face coloring as I frowned.  I began to panic, "Where are we?"

"You must be mistaken dear." She smiled as the bus rounded a corner into the downtown core.  Everything seemed right, yet something was different too.  I couldn't put my finger on it. 

I shook my head, "I don't think I'm wrong, but I'll leave it for now since we're so close.  By the way, I'm Mary Anne DeRoss."

"I'm Vera Komax." She held out her hand and I shook it.

"It's nice to meet you." I shook her hand and smiled.  I liked her.  She reminded me of the mother of my employer who I was running away from.

The bus rounded a corner and finally pulled into the stall designated for it.  I sighed.  Now I would find out what was going on.  The bus slowed, and we exited the bus with our carry-on baggage.

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Note:  Diary, this is the first time I have remembered events so clearly.  How is that possible?  I remember even the dialogue!

Friendly Faces Blogger - Marry Anne DeRoss

Date:  April 1, 2013
08:30
Dear Diary,

I am on the bus, and I am thankful for the driver.  He is friendly and nice and said he would let me know when I would reach Edmonton.  The woman across the isle from me said she would as well.  I talked to her for a while.  She told me she had been visiting her son in Calgary.  I told her that was nice, and that I was going home to my mother in Edmonton.

"I'm sure she'll be glad to see you." She smiled as the driver started the motor and pulled out of the driveway. 

"Yes, she's looking forward to seeing me." I returned the expression, but in reality, I wondered if the family would really be glad to see me.  I hurt them pretty badly, especially mother.  I didn't tell her that as I observed the woman dressed in a blue jacket and hat and grey pants. 

I knew it would be a while before we got to Edmonton, so I tried to get some rest.  It wasn't long before I was asleep.

Where am I going? - Blogger Mary Ann DeRoss

Date:  April 1, 2013
Time:  8am
Dear Diary,

I am frightened.  I have just rolled my two wheeled cart and my only suitcase from the subdivision I had been living in since I was nineteen years of age to the town of Devon; it took all night, and there were a few touchy moments where I thought people were going to do me ill will, but I finally made it.  I am going to Edmonton; I am going home.  Mother said she would gladly have me home even after the way I treated her and Father, so home it is, even though it means going under her thumb for a while until I get my feet beneath me again.  I am going to be glad to see them.

I wrote to them both a week ago stating my plans, and they encouraged me to find a way to get to Devon without the aid of walking, or hitch-hiking.  I scoffed at the idea because I knew people would let him know.  They even offered to come, but the family's schedule is so hectic that I didn't know when would be the best.  I knew I was taking my life into my own hands, but I couldn't think of another way.

It took me several days to do this, and I know people were looking for me because I could hear people calling for me during the day. I found a place each time that kept me from the searchers.  The Lord only knows how I did it, but I did.  I walked during the night.  I was stopped several times and asked if I wanted a ride.  Now I'm in the bus depot and have my ticket in hand.

The bus is finally here.  I'm getting on.