You know what I just realized? There's a character named Roger Davies in Harry Potter. It just made me laugh.
Also, yesterday, I finally got the whole joke about the Well Hungarians. I've got to be the slowest person ever.
And also there will probably be one more chapter and then an epilogue after this. But don't hold me to that. I could go off on a tangent. But I doubt it. Hope you've enjoyed reading!
EDIT: Haha, thanks for noticing that Kelby. I fixed it. I was exhausted when I wrote it and exhausted when I edited it. That might be an bit of a explanation… Ah, so anyway.
Peace
-elodie
Wisp
Chapter 17
It felt so nice to be warm. She still shivered, but she was no longer cold. To feel the sun on her face, to have a warm breeze ruffle her hair, the sand under her feet.
She finished writing the sentence and signed her name simply, putting it into the envelope and sealing it.
Winnie turned to the sunset over the water and smiled contentedly. Although she missed New York, it was good to get away and not have to worry about anything.
She pulled the sunglasses down over her eyes and laid her head back in the sand. Her last thought before drifting off was how wonderful the feeling of sun was on her face.
* * *
"I got another letter from Winnie," Mark said quietly, sitting down next to Collins in the Life Café.
"What's it say?"
Mark shrugged. "Not sure. Haven't opened it."
"Miss her?"
"Yeah. But I'm kind of mad at her."
Collins took a sip of his tea. "For leaving?"
Mark nodded. "Yeah. She left me all alone."
"You have me. And Maureen and Joanne. Look at it this way: You needed some type to recuperate, she needed some escape time. It'll work out OK for the both of you."
Shrugging, Mark drummed his fingers on the table. He'd felt so empty and lonely since she left. He was the only person in the loft now and it felt so empty. Especially at night, when he and Winnie would curl up in bed and just talk until all hours of the morning. Now he had no one. Collins, Maureen and Joanne were there but it wasn't the same.
"So, are you going to open it?"
Mark sighed and opened the letter, scanning it quickly. It was short and sweet, just like Winnie always made them. The letter smelled slightly of cinnamon.
M-
It's warm here. Warm in November! Can you believe that? I bet it's very cold up there. I'm almost getting a tan. Actually, I'm just freckling. I have farmer's freckle. I swam in the Gulf of Mexico. It's so different than the North Atlantic. Much warmer. I miss you. Say hello to Collins, Maureen and Joanne for me.
-W
Mark checked the postmark. Somewhere in Florida. "Collins, she's in Florida."
"Lucky bitch. And here we are freezing our asses off up here. I say we go find her."
"I bet she already left. The last one was postmarked in Tennessee and that was earlier this week."
"I'm sorry Mark."
Mark sighed. "Yeah, me too. I think I'm just going to go film people in the park if you don't mind. I've got an idea for a film. Want to come?"
Collins shook his head, offering Mark a smile. "Nah, I actually have to get to class. But thanks for the invitation. Take care of yourself, Mark."
Mark smiled back and got up from the table. "I will. See you Collins."
* * *
Winnie could feel the air become colder and colder. It was a few days since she'd had a real meal and she was hungry. How had she ended up back here again?
A tiny candle flickered in front of her crossed legs. It was dark out, freezing cold. Even Mark's old coat couldn't cut the chill from the wind. It had been almost three months since she'd left New York and now three months later, she found herself back again.
What was the date? Somewhere near the end of December.
Winnie shivered. She was in this exact same position a year ago. She breathed in deepy. Cinnamon. Even the candle was the same.
She should go home, she really should. She'd traveled all up and down the east coast. She went to Florida and Tennessee and hiked on the Appalachian Trail and saw Washington DC. She just hitched a ride to wherever she could go and made the best of it.
Not that it was a vacation. She shivered violently. God, no. The horrible people who hurt her… They made it hell for her. The drivers who wanted more than company... Winnie had learned to be careful, but when you're walking along a quiet stretch of highway out in the middle of nowhere, sometimes there isn't much of a choice.
Mark must hate her. She was certain of it.
Everything was so cold. She could barely think. Just cold and freezing and numbness. She shook everywhere. She remembered how she felt last year when she was all alone and scared and was frightened by how similar her current situation was to the year before.
Winnie's head spun. She'd been sick for a week. Everything was cloudy in her brain and she could barely see straight. There were a few snowflakes. She loved snow when she was younger. It was so pretty and pure. Now it was just another reminder of her loneliness and shivering.
She peeled off her glove and held her hand over the tiny flickering candle, accidentally extending too far, catching her hand in the fire. It burned but she welcomed the feeling in her hand.
Pulling her hand out of the flame, she examined it. It was still numb, but a different sort of numb. Blisters were appearing on her already pale skin.
"Honey, now aren't you supposed to be inside?"
Winnie looked up and smiled in her delirium. "Angel! You came back for me!"
Angel sat down next to her on the bench and gently blew the candle out. "Honey, you should be warm. You have a home, don't you? What are you doing out here in the cold?"
Winnie shrugged, taking the candle into her hands, wincing as feeling came rushing back into her blistered hand. "I don't know whether I want to go back home or not. Mark will be angry at me. You see, I left him three months ago, right after Roger died. I don't know whether he'll forgive me or not."
"Honey, you needed your space. From the looks of it, you've had too much. Mark loves you. I can tell. I've been keeping an eye on him. He needs you, honey."
"Angel, I'm scared."
"Well, weren't you afraid while you were away?"
Winnie answered slowly and questioningly, "Yes."
Angel smiled and patted her cheek. "Then what's to be afraid about?"
Winnie's lips parted in a tiny wisp of a smile. "Angel, I want to go home."
"Go home, honey. Go home." And then she vanished. Winnie's eyebrows shot up and she looked around for her.
"Angel? Angel are you there?"
"Go home…"
And so she did.
* * *
Mark was frustrated. He'd been working on this film for three months and nothing was coming out of it. He'd been stressed and strung out ever since Winnie's weekly letters stopped coming two months before.
He wasn't eating as much and was really beginning to lose it. Collins told him that he was getting worried but Mark insisted he was fine.
Yeah, right. Sure he was fine. If by fine he meant Fucked-Up Insecure Neurotic and Emotional.
He sighed and glanced at the clock. Shit it was late. Twenty-five minutes till Christmas. Winnie's birthday.
A small shudder shook his body for just a small second. A year ago he and Maureen had found Winnie on the bathroom floor in the bathroom at the Life Café. All the blood… He still remembered the blood. It was all over the floor, looking shockingly purple under the fluorescent lights.
He missed her. He missed being able to hold her in his arms, he missed filming her when she didn't think he was watching her. He missed taking her for walks in the park and photographing her and kissing her.
In twenty-one minutes she'd be nineteen. Mark remembered when he was nineteen. He'd just dropped out of college and had come to the city. He hadn't seen much of life yet. His parents were tolerant of him, supported him in everything he attempted. Upon arriving in the East Village, he realized that life hadn't even started yet. Real life.
Winnie's life started when she was so young… She was only nineteen and had seen more of the world and more hardship than he had.
God, he missed her.
He missed Roger too. The loft was so empty. Mark hadn't touched any of his belongings. The Fender guitar was still propped up on it's stand in the corner. Sheet music still littered the floor of Roger's room. He hadn't even thrown out Roger's old taped razor. It still lay next to Mark's in the bathroom.
He needed to talk to someone. Anyone. Even someone who wasn't alive. He just needed to talk.
Mark had an idea. He grabbed his camera and placed it on the tripod, training it on the couch. He turned it on and sat down on the couch, clasping his hands in his lap. He hadn't realized how cold it was…
"December 24th, eleven forty-five PM, Eastern Standard Time. I'm all alone on Christmas Eve. I need some time to reflect. I've lost three of my friends this year. Two to AIDS. I loved Mimi and Roger. Roger was my best friend. I can't even begin to describe in words how much he meant to me. Mimi was his girlfriend, but she was my friend too. With the exception of April, I never really liked any of Roger's other girlfriends. But Mimi I liked. She really was a good person despite everything." Mark sighed, and took off his glasses, cleaning them on his shirt. "Is this fucking stupid or what? I mean, who I am going to show it to?"
He put his glasses back on and breathed out heavily. "OK, I just need to get this out. Winnie was my girlfriend. I saved her and by saving her, she saved me. Does that make any sense? I mean, I was carrying a goddamn razor in my pocket. I was about ready to off myself the second Roger died. But she got to it first and that's how I met her. I loved her so much. She had problems. Much worse than mine. So I took care of her. She took care of me. We completed each other. We had a symbiotic relationship, y'know? I'd surely be dead without her and she'd most likely be dead without me. We were like…peanut butter and jelly. No, that's bad."
Mark scowled. Think of a better analogy, you idiot. "We were like sodium and chlorine. Oh yeah, the inner science nerd in me is rearing it's ugly head," Mark laughed bitterly. "We're sodium and chlorine. Without each other we'd either blow up or poison someone. But together we're just normal table salt. Just regular old NaCl."
Mark shook his head, biting a lip. "This is ridiculous. Comparing our relationship to table salt. I'm not good at analogies." He sighed heavily. "OK, this is enough for one night." He got up and turned the camera off.
"I should probably go to bed," Mark said to no one in particular. He'd taken to talking to himself. He'd always talked to himself, but usually he was hidden behind a camera. Now he carried on conversations with himself. "I'm not particularly tired, though." He glanced at the clock. 11:51. Almost midnight. Almost Christmas. Not that he really cared about Christmas. He was Jewish, after all. But he always did like celebrating Christmas with his friends. Where were those friends now?
He shouldn't be bitter. They'd tried to cheer him up. He was just being a grump. He was turning into Roger. Maureen and Joanne were in Hawaii for the week and Collins had gone home to Philadelphia to visit his parents. It's not like they were abandoning him. Not like Winnie did…
Yet try as he might, he wasn't mad at her. He regretted a lot of things about their relationship but he'd never change a thing. Mark just wished that she'd come home…
There was a knock at the door. Three small raps, small and tentative. Mark glanced at the clock.11:56. Four minutes to midnight. Who could it be?
He opened the door.
"I missed you, Mark," said Winnie softly. Then the lights flickered and went out completely.