Tante Willemijn's Writing

Answers

With a stomach tight enough to feel like puking, Kayla stepped out of the taxi. It had been a long journey. Two flights, the overnight train. What had been the rush? Was she scared of being late again? She had been looking for answers for so incredibly long.
She looked up to the building, trying to decide if she should ask the taxi driver to wait for her. She decided against it. The main road was just around the corner, getting a taxi or a bus wouldn’t be too hard there.
Seeing the shabby looking building in front of her, Kayla double-checked the address on her phone. Was this some kind of joke?

She climbed the steps and decidedly knocked.
The woman opening the door did not seem surprised at Kayla being there.
“The apartment upstairs.” She merely said, handing Kayla a key.
Heart beating heavily Kayla climbed the rickety red stairs, scared they’d cave under her weight. The bush beside it didn’t seem a comfortable landing zone.
“Answers.” She thought. “Finally, after all this time, answers.”
Her hand trembled when inserting and turning the key. A wave of sick washed over her when she opened the door and stepped in. She stood in a large room. Or maybe it’s emptiness made it appear huge. The walls, ceiling, and even the floor were crisp white, hurting her eyes.

She bent over to pick up the note that was waiting for her in the middle of the white room.
Had she finally found it? She turned it over and read the one single word written on it. “Answers.”


Story inspired by this picture on @BunnyDarkness' blog.

It wasn’t a dark and stormy night. The wind wasn’t howling through the trees. None of all the spooky stuff.
There was a bright moon lighting the path though. It was late October, and it had been a lovely day. Bethany had spent most of her day in the garden, getting it ready for winter.
She’d swept the leaves together and put the wood she could use for her fire in the woodshed. She loved the Fall. Especially these crisp, almost summery days. Everything slowed down. Soon it would be Halloween. Summer’s last spat, taking them from the light, into the darkness.
Holidays didn’t mean much to her since she lived alone. For the kids venturing that far out of town, she tried to make a feast of it. Lanterns on the path to the door. A few pumpkins, carving them was on the program for the weekend. The odd broom parked here and there. The spiders generally took care of themselves. And, of course, the best candy. Her mother had always made a big deal out of the night. Costumes, candy, nothing was too much trouble.

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Eric had a different day. Last night, after his sister had picked him up from Bethany’s house, she’d given him an earful about his kind host. “She’s trouble, Eric. How could you even…? I mean…”
“Why? She was perfectly nice. What has she done?”
“There are stories. You’d better not take any chances.”
The stories were about rituals, gatherings up at the house. Even people going missing. There was no evidence to sustain it, but people talked. “Clearly it’s haunted. I know someone who dated her, and he told me he always felt watched when he was at her house. And she won’t move out.”
“Why would she, it’s her home?” He remembered the draft, and the lock of hair waving up. These were hysteric times though. People wanted to believe anything supernatural and evil. Even if the place was haunted, he didn’t think it would be malicious. He’d been at places that housed dark energies. The last hotel he’d worked at being one of them. Her house wasn’t anything like it. He had felt most welcome.For his sister’s peace of mind though, he refrained from contradicting. He should count himself lucky that she would pick him up and take him in. There it was again. Luck.

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The pathway looked truly gorgeous, Bethany thought to herself. The pumpkins were in place with the lanterns inside to emit their eerie orange light. The brooms were stacked beside the house. A string of lights hung on the fence and near the door. Needing to get her mind off of things and to wear her body out, she’d outdone herself.
She’d not properly slept since she more or less kicked Eric out of the house. He had scared the crap out of her, and nothing good could come of it.
Yet the card he’d given her started showing creases of being held and stared at. The kitchen didn’t feel the same safe place it had always been. Even the draft that had been there seemed to have disappeared as if it held its breath. If the weather had turned, it would have felt appropriate to Bethany, but it hadn’t. A few showers here and there, but no substantial Fall weather to speak of.
It was going to be perfect Halloween weather. Chilly, dry, with a few clouds passing by the moon.
Bethany had made another trip to her sister’s, and Emily had wondered what was wrong with her sister.
“Maybe I should sell the house after all.”

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Happily, Bethany watched him drive off into the night, ran back to her house, and slammed the door shut behind her. “Guys, let’s not mess this up, okay?” She said to the house at large.
Seeing him stand at her door had startled her. It had also told her she could avoid fate all she wanted, but it was always going to catch up with her. Singing along to the radio she packed up the candy for distributing the next day. Three baskets at the ready. She could refill in between, she hoped. She expected a big turn out the next night.
When she finally crawled into bed, she didn’t get more than a few minutes to dwell on her new found happiness. She fell asleep almost immediately.
Dreams were plentiful. Bethany’s dreams were never sedated. Nightmares were a usual occurrence for her, especially if she’d been amongst people. Although there were a few messy dreams, most were pretty good.

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When meeting a health care professional, future employer, or you know, strangers on the street, I as a fat person, run the risk of being subjected to ‘The Speech’.
As most fat people are aware, ‘The Speech’ is a lecture about being fat, bad life choices, and please fix it as soon as possible, so we, the public, by all means, can ignore you like we do everyone else. My fat is a source of criticism, ridicule, and health trolling.

During ‘The Speech’ suggestions on how to fix it will be made. From stopping eating full stop to the newest rage, bariatric surgery. Everyone knows someone who’s had one and is over the moon about it. Good on them, but not my path.

Here’s how you sound to me:
“Did you know that people with red hair are more susceptible to getting a sunburn? This increases the risk of skin cancer. So what all people with red hair should do, to avoid this, is dye their hair.”
That’s why I look at you with that dissociated gaze. That’s what I hear.

Seriously, would you tell a redhead to dye their hair to avoid skin cancer? No?
Then don’t tell a fat person to lose weight for health reasons. We know the drill. We’ve heard ‘The Speech’ a thousand times.
And frankly, you’re making the matter worse sooner than helping. Your advice won’t mean that we will consider another diet/surgery, but is far more likely to cause that we will avoid you.
Which in the end means we can’t leave our house. Because you are not alone with your annoying, nagging, broken record of the ‘but your health’ message. Which by the way is not scientifically supported. (And no, ‘but everyone knows that’ is not scientific. It’s cognitive dissonance!)

We’ll avoid going to a doctor. Avoid going to a gym, or do other things that might be beneficial to our health and well being, just to not run into you.
I’m sure this will achieve your goal of not seeing fat people around, so you can safely go out and pretend you either helped us, or we don’t exist anymore.
But how is ‘The Speech’ helping me?

I was a nine-year-old kid. And I was fat. At least, I was told I was. I was taller and wider than kids my age. Still, when I look back at those pictures, it doesn’t look nearly as dramatic as the memory tells me. Anyway, according to the people around me (I don’t quite remember who decided it), it was getting out of hand, and an intervention was needed.

Cue my first visit to a dietician. This was someone old-school. What do you eat? Okay, now you shall eat only half of that. My first proper, horrible, diet experience began. I clearly remember the hunger, especially in school in the afternoons. Or when it got to dinner time. I learned to appreciate the hunger in the following years. Because the hunger meant that I was in control.
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My first NaNoWriMo story came out quite as I expected. The second didn't even keep the names I gave my characters. Let alone a few details it went off the map completely. And it still worked. The new set up!


Synopsis

L'Heure Bleue (aka Present Day)

Abigail Ingram reluctantly ran the mansion her parents left her. She simply couldn't sell it when it was the only home her brother knew and could come home to. These days the estate was used as a wedding venue or other events. Although she loved seeing all those dressed up people pass by, she tried to keep as far away from it herself as she could.

Brian Milbourne had picked up his life again. Following the passing of his wife, he'd had a serious breakdown resulting in losing both of his restaurants. He decided to take his win and become a wedding caterer. After all, there was a market for renown chefs and gourmet meals on location. When he entered the venue he'd be cooking his first major event he wasn't just blown away by the kitchen facilities.
Excerpt

“I’m as British as the rainfall.” She admitted. “Not a fair-weather girl, to be honest.”
“Woman.” He said.
Confused she looked at him.
“You’re not a girl. You’re a woman.”
She opened her mouth to retaliate, but words wouldn’t come.
She stared at him for a few seconds. Dammit, he looked hot.
“Lunch was fantastic. My mother and I are very grateful. Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome. Two coverts shouldn’t be missed. Oh,” He pushed himself off of the counter. “There’s still dessert.”
“You really shouldn’t spoil us.”
“You’re kidding, right?Of course I should spoil you. Just consider it buttering up for a business proposition later.”
She laughed as she followed him to the freezer.
“My mother will be very disappointed it’s just for business.”
“I gathered.”
“I’m very sorry about that.”
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My answers to Alex' blog post questions.
(https://alexmi84.wordpress.com/2016/08/13/sunshine-blogger-questions/ )

1. Beach or mountains
I like the beach, but not on hot, sunny days. Just in the fall, when it's quiet and the water bashes the sand. Mountains? I live in an extremely flat country. The first time I saw mountains, I stood in awe. I couldn't comprehend the mass of it. I still have this romantic notion of mountains and mountain homes and cabins. I don't drive though, and the climb would kill me. So it's beach, I guess.

2. Party animal or isolation devotee
Isolation devotee. I need a lot of time to myself. Although I tremendously enjoy going to concerts, I need at least a day of recovery time after them. Parties are even worse because it requires interaction. I do like family gatherings though.

3. Thoughts on the state of humanity
I know things look pretty bad right now. And they are. I think, however, that if we can get through this, without a nuclear war, things won't be so bad. There's a new generation coming, and it's very easy and tempting to bash them. But they have qualities and skills we can only dream of. They will do things in their own way, as each generation has before them. Have a little faith in them.

4. Favourite drink
Coffee, tea, coke, rum&coke. Since I have a very strong reaction to caffeine, and I can't bloody well be drunk all day (however good it sometimes appears) I drink mostly tea though.

5. What do you look for in a novel?
It has to be about the characters and the story. I have no need for fancy settings, distracting artefacts, or over the top action. I want a good story about people that start at point A, and through the entire alphabet end at B.  Has to be about people.

6. What do I look for in a person?
Opposite sex (or same sex) I tend to fall for the energy people have around them. Good sense of humour, passionate about something, and yet caring, and compassionate.

7. Music or silence?
Music, always music. Favourite artists currently: Steven Wilson, Lonely Robot, Kim Seviour, Marillion, but certainly not limited to those. From Mozart to Iron Maiden... (even some country on occasion)

8. Hotel or Motel (or Holiday Inn?)
Hotel, I like being spoiled. Besides, motels aren't really a thing here.

9. Are you funny?
Yes, dammit! Stop doubting yourself.

My questions (if so inclined, please explain your choices):
1. What are is dream holiday destination?
2. What is your to-go-to song, artist, band when you feel down?
3. If there's a profession you could try for a week, what would it be?
4. I want to be known for....
5. Favourite vegetable or fruit?
6. What's your pet-peeve?
7. Pineapple on pizza, yes or no?
8. What's your favourite type of weather?
9. Which type of weather do you hate most?

I don't do the tagging thing, but feel free to answer.