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The DreamWalker Series
13 - A Signal Shown

13 - A Signal Shown

“Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing,

Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness;

So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another,

Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.”

                     -Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Ellette sat propped on pillows and cushions, staring out the picturesque bay window overlooking the park. Her journal sat in her lap, virtually untouched. Focus, inspiration, or even motivation was just not coming to her this afternoon. Her mind wandered, but not in its usual driven, non-linear way that produced so much of her writing. She hadn't been able to write, and she hadn't been able to dream. But, she was happy. Blissfully so.

Despite her initial resistance to the move, she loved their new apartment. Most evenings found her curled up next to Rand, watching movies until she drifted off to sleep. The warmth of him, the comfort of his solid form, wound about hers was almost bittersweet. Yet, she wouldn't trade it for the world. She had only known such companionship with Dani and had never expected to find it again and settle into this very normal, healthy relationship.

A knock brought her out of her thoughts, a short warning before the door opened. "Ellette, I hope you don’t mind. It was pouring out there, so I brought home a couple of friends from the park to dry off."

Behind Rand came a soggy Jessie, a familiar sight in their new home. The third, lanky form, though was foreign, yet strangely familiar. Ellette found herself staring as Rand took the stranger’s coat. "Would you mind getting a couple of towels?" Rand called to her, shaking her out of her trance.

"Oh, yeah, right..." Ellette scrambled for the linen closet, fumbling through the towels to find their least stained and threadbare offerings. Rand took them happily, plopping one directly over Jessie's soggy mass of curls. She was petite, almost tiny. It was hard not to treat her like a child when the opportunity struck. Ellette handed the last towel to the newcomer, the lanky boy, doing her best not to stare.

"Your name wouldn't happen to be Boris, would it?" she asked as he worked to dry his hair and hung the towel around his shoulders.

"Yeah, it is." He gave her a slight quirk of a smile. "Do I know you?"

“I thought I recognized you. I doubt you’ll remember me.” Ellette shrugged. "Though I've been wanting to thank."

"Thank me? For what?" he laughed.

His smile was contagious and she grinned back. "It's silly, I know, but you bought me a sandwich, almost a year ago.."

"Ah! I think I remember you now. From the cafe, right? Don't mention it. I got everything half off on my tab anyway."

"Way to cheapen the chivalrous gesture," Rand chimed in. He knew the story, though it was on from before their time together. "So this is the infamous Boris." He raised an eyebrow at Ellette. "So you found him. I suppose he wasn’t some figment of a dream.”

Boris glanced from the tall, dark, and wiry built Rand to the pale, willowy woman. "Wait, infamous...?"

Jessie pulled the towel from her head before shrugging. Rand gave him a reassuring clap on the shoulder. "Just a joke between us. Make yourself at home."

Ellette laughed and took Boris by the elbow, directing him to the worn-out couch draped with a sheet. "All this time I'd been hoping I'd run into you, and you found me. How did you meet Jessie and Rand anyway?"

Boris settled on to the couch somewhat hesitantly. "I'm doing some research on buskers and street living. I'm more focused on those who actually live on the streets, but the buskers are a little easier to approach."

Ellette chuckled and shook her head. “Rand is approachable. Jessie not so much. Why exactly are you researching folks who live on the streets?”

"School. College paper," he shrugged. "A study for social anthropology on subcultures and lifestyles within the city."

"I mentioned to him that my roommate had lived on the streets for a while," Rand said as he joined them, settling on the arm of the couch next to Ellette. "He more or less invited himself along after we all got drenched."

Ellette nodded, considering.

The silence stretched between them, and Boris glanced between them. "It's okay if you don't want to share."

She shook her head. "No, no, it's fine. I'm really not much of a resource. I didn’t live on the streets for long, thanks to Rand."

Rand reached up and ruffled her hair. "Was only returning a favor."

"Keeping the balance, eh?" Jessie commented, having finally wrung her hair out and settling into Ellette's spot by the bay window. "Favor given, favor returned."

Ellette laughed nervously. "If that were the case, I'd owe people all over the city. I wouldn’t be here if the generosity of others." Her tone had grown softer, thoughtful.

"Isn't that why you were looking for me?" Boris asked. "To repay the debt?"

She smiled, though her eyes didn't meet his. "I just wanted to thank you. You left so suddenly.”

“You didn’t keep the card?” Boris asked. “I’d half expected a phone call.”

“You said it wasn’t from you, but some creeper, I believe was the term you used,” she said with a grin.

He laughed. “Yeah, but you assumed my name was Boris just now, so it would seem you figured it out.”

“I just never knew,” she explained, “It felt odd to call...”

“No worries. Had to change that number anyway. I lost my job over it, you know.”

“Oh,” Ellette gasped. “Why, or how did you lose your job over it?”

“Well, you remember how I said people were complaining about these cards showing up, up and down the street? That part was true.”

She laughed and went to the basket on the table that held an assortment of keys and other random items and found her wallet. “I actually still have it. I don’t know why I kept it,” she said, sifting through the contents to find it. “I guess to remember a good deed done? It’s funny. I always remembered you as Boris...”

“You’re more intuitive than you realize.”

Ellette studied him for a moment, feeling slightly disconcerted.

Rand had taken the card from Ellette, flipping it over in his hands. "What exactly were you planning on doing with these? I mean, how could you really help people? Aren't you a little young to be playing therapist?"

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"I'd come into a decent amount of money from my father's death and wanted to put it to good use. I figured anyone desperate enough to call a number on a card was worth talking to. I'm studying to become a psychologist, so this was my misguided attempt to do good before actually getting my degree."

Boris took the card from Rand, studying it for a long moment. “Lesson learned. The hard way,” he grinned. “Now, you were going to tell me about your experiences, a little about your life, were you not?” He handed the card back to Ellette. Ellette raised a brow as she took the card, seeing that he’d corrected the number. “I’m still a good guy,” he said with a wink. “But not to worry, I’m only after research,” he added, noticing the way Ellette had stiffened at the flirtation.

“I’m bored over here!” Jessie announced. “Can’t we play already?”

Rand turned to Ellette then. “I promised Jessie I’d help her learn some songs, some of the things I picked up on my last trip,” he explained. “As long as you’re comfortable entertaining Boris here, that is.”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” she waved him off. “Go play, entertain that wild woman.”

Rand nodded and kissed her briefly on the cheek before heading to his room to find his instruments. “Come on Jess, the acoustics aren’t too bad in here.” He closing the door once the red-haired woman had joined him.

Ellette sighed, watching Rand go before she turned back to Boris. “Would you like some tea? Something to warm you up? We always have chai and a few herbal varieties.” The muted tones of Jessie’s energetic voice drifted through the walls, followed by Rand’s laughter and the strumming of guitars. “At least with the door closed, they won’t be too loud,” Ellette sighed.

“Oh, it’s okay. No tea, thank you And I don’t mind the music.” Boris replied, settling down on the end of the bench by the window that Ellette had vacated. He’d produced a notepad and was tapping a pen against it thoughtfully. “I suppose if you could tell me the basics of your story? Um, I guess if there is anyone else out there I might speak with that you could direct me to?”

“Anyone else out there, you mean regulars on the streets?” Ellette sighed and returned to the bench seat, sitting opposite of him. She pulled a blanket over her legs as she curled up, staring out the window. “Ramon and his wife MaryJane I suppose are as good as any to start with. They’re Natives, or First Nations, depending on which side of the border you’re from. They hang out at the end of the park with the totem poles. They were always nice to me, parental. The whole group of folk that hang out with them, they watch out for each other. I don’t know how much help they’ll be to you though. Especially if you start asking questions.” Ellette sighed and traced lazy circles on the fogged glass before glancing back to Boris.

He’d hardly written a thing down, not that she was surprised. “Listen, you’ve got to just get out there and talk to people. Unless you’re out there, unless you’re begging for money or digging through dumpsters, you’ll just be another college student, another tourist. I got to know people because even before I’d lost my apartment, I’d made my rounds. The shop owners, the good ones anyway, they knew me. I’d do odd jobs for them for leftovers, day-old bread, that sort of thing. They liked me because I was young and willing to work. I managed to stay out of the worst of what goes on on the streets.

“I’ll tell you something, though, unlike me, most those people had nowhere to go. There was almost always a shelter I could find my way into, as long as I was willing to ask. Before that, I had a place, but I was begging for all the extras, the bare minimum my job wouldn’t provide.” She shrugged. “I was stupid, though. Stubborn. I had no interest in asking for help unless Gloria, one of the workers at a group home I’d been in, hunted me down to check on me. Other people on the streets, some had it together enough to receive assistance, but it was never enough to truly climb out of the place they were in. They were generous when those checks came in. Always asking about me, offering me sandwiches.” She laughed. “Mary would come up to me, all bandaged and bruised because she’d picked a fight, and shove a sandwich in my face. Tell me I needed to eat. NOW. She’d sit me down and talk to me about her kids until every last bite of that sandwich was gone.”

Ellette sighed then. “I miss them, but then I don’t. I don’t want to end up like that, talking about my kids who are living with relatives...” She glanced up at her silent audience, studying him. “I was extremely lucky. It’s hard out there. If you do go poking around, talking to people, don’t forget that. Bring food, easy to eat snacks. Dry socks, hand warmers, and cash are always welcome. And don’t fucking judge.” She shook her head, her jaw clenched. “Don’t judge what they do with that money, because I can guarantee, they give more to each other than most folks living in the posh apartments, making more money than they know what to do with.”

“I’ve had enough, woman!” The door to the bedroom banged opened. Rand was laughing, rubbing his fingers. “You’ve got something to go on. I can’t show you anymore, not today anyway.”

Ellette winced at the way Rand was kneading his hands, the fingers crooked and stiff. It looked painful Had she been talking with Boris that long? The rain and the cold had likely gotten to him more than he’d realized. Ellette fought back the urge to come to his defense and throw Jessie out. While she might not like the woman, Rand played with her fairly often. They shared more and more sets as of late. It wasn’t Ellette’s place to interfere.

“But I don’t even have half the song!” Jessie protested.

“Tomorrow!” Rand laughed and went to the window where Ellette and Boris sat. He leaned on the window frame next to Ellette with that familiarity that she was only now learning to tolerate. She watched as he worked his fingers, one at a time, and frowned, taking his hand in her own, gently working the scarred and knotted flesh.

She turned back to Boris. “Listen it looks like the rain’s letting up. Do you think you have enough to start with?”

Ellette was a strange sort of sorrowful look in Boris’s eyes before he glanced down at his notebook. “Yeah, yeah, sure.”

“If I think of anything that might help you, I’ll jot it down and give you a call, alright?” Ellette felt strangely taken aback by the young man’s change of mood.

He glanced back up at her as if lost in thought. “Oh, yeah that sounds great.” He stood, realizing that her words were something of a dismissal. They were done here, for now at least. “Listen, Ellette. I’m really sorry I wasn’t more help to you back then.”

Ellette laughed. “What you did for me was perfect. I needed a meal, and I appreciated the unexpected kindness.”

“I should have done more,” he muttered. “I meant what I said on that card. If you need help, call.”

“So that’s it, eh Rand?” Jessie whined. She looked like a petulant child holding her guitar by the neck, her hair a still slightly damp tangle around her head.

“Yes, that’s it,” Rand told her firmly. “My hands hurt, and the rain is letting up. Get your persistent little butt out of my house.” He turned to Boris then. “Did you get enough information for your project?”

Boris flashed a grin then, suddenly charming and easy-going once more. “I got enough to start with. But now that I know where you both live, I might have to stop back by.” He gave Ellette a wink. “For research.”

“I expect you at the park tomorrow!” Jessie interrupted once more. “I want to try that song again.”

“If you picked it up the first time it wouldn’t take so long,” Rand shot back.

Jessie scowled and headed towards the door. She turned back, giving Boris a stern look. “Come on, Boris,” she stretched out his name, saying it with a sing-song, slightly mocking tone. “I’ll walk you partway.”

Boris chuckled reaching for Ellette’s hand. She obliged and he gave it a warm shake. “It was good to meet you again.”

Ellette watched him go, feeling strangely disconcerted for sometime after he’d left. It was strange, how despite the fact that she’d only met him briefly, twice now, there was a familiarity there. She shivered despite herself.

“Everything okay?” Rand asked.

“Hmmmm...” Ellette considered for a moment before answering. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

Rand put the kettle on, pulling down down a box of tea, before turning back to face her. “You seem,” he chose his next words carefully, “a little disconcerted. Was Boris not what you’d expected?”

Ellette laughed, climbing onto one of the stools that lined the kitchen counter. “I can’t say I expected anything. It just... felt strange talking to him. Like I knew him, and he seemed to know me. Our conversation felt like pretense.” Ellette shugged. “Maybe it was just more that I had built him up in my mind, and feel like I know him when I really don’t.”

“So, nothing bad.” Rand poured her a cup of tea, and she took the steaming mug into her hands gratefully.

“Nothing bad,” she assured him, dunking the teabag in her cup absently. “I wonder,” she said after a long moment. “Perhaps I met him in a dream, before. I try to write them all down, but there are so many I don’t remember.” She sighed and reached for the sugar jar, dumping a heaping spoonful into her drink. “I hope I didn’t fail him.”

Rand took her hand, giving it a squeeze. “You always,” he repeated himself for emphasis, “always do the best you are able to. Failure is all in your head.”

“Not when it hurts other people,” she muttered.

“Ellette.” His tone was sharp, scolding. “I’m not going to play this self-loathing game of yours.”

She sighed heavily before raising her eyes to meet his. “Sorry,” she mumbled, sipping at her tea.

“You know,” he said, pushing a battered piece of paper across the countertop. “You don’t have to mope and worry and wonder. Just give him a call.”

She set her mug down on the countertop and picked up the card, turning it over in her hands. She let out a soft laugh. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right.”