The Shambala Chronicle
Nope. Don't own it. Don't care what the hell you say, it doesn't belong to me.
So, after a long hiatus, I have returned. Snootch.
Now on with the show, shall we?
Entry 6:
So, after sweating it out for about a week, I finally got the nerve to call up Claire. It turned from a frantic, panicky day to one of those that makes me almost believe my time in Central never existed.
When I woke up, I looked out at the nice sunny day and realized, this was it. This was the day I would stop just looking at her number and finally call it. I would finally go and see Claire in person instead of just seeing her in my dreams. And it was also the day Jeffie would stop bugging me about her and telling me to marry her so I could stop drooling over her in my sleep.
That last one was totally uncalled for, by the way.
Not to say that there weren't problems while I was doing it. Couldn't find the number at first, and only by digging through about thirty pairs of pants did I finally manage to unearth it. My mom always insists that the more pants a guy has the less the chances he'll ever not have something to wear.
Of course, there is a thing as having too MUCH to wear, but I couldn't tell her that. You know how mothers can get.
And then, of course, I couldn't get the damn phone to start working. There had been this thunderstorm earlier this week, and power has still been quite screwy since then. All the members of my family have been complaining about it for the last three days, but I didn't really notice it. Until today, that is. Damn power people. Can't ever do anything right.
You'd think that would be the end of that, right? But years of experience has taught me that I have worse luck than a fifty-year-old virgin at a club. Pardon my analogy; it was the best I could think up. Anyway, I called the number, and someone- I guess was either a sister or a roommate, the hell if I knew which- answered. And when I heard the voice, fear gripped me like an old lady strangling a cat, and, needless to say, my next words came out…sketchy, to say it best. I'm sure to whoever was on the other end I sounded like an over-excited A.D.H.D patient, off his meds and completely out of his mind.
Somehow, I think the words "Claire" and "talk" came out clear enough for her to understand what I wanted and why I was calling like a drunk old man looking for a hook-up. That either scared her or encouraged her- depending on what kind of person she is- and I heard her calling her roommate's (sister's?) name. I made myself a mental note that I really needed to work on my phone skills.
"Hello?"
Claire's voice rang sweetly in my ear, and suddenly, my mouth was unclenched. It suddenly seemed easier to talk. I figured it would only get harder, but I guess I was wrong.
I told her who I was. She said hi. I said it back. Then- because I figured a play-by-play would just be unnecessary- I asked her out- not date, really, just…ah, forget it- for coffee and maybe a bite to eat. She agreed to it. I was in the go zone, and it was with that in mind that an hour later I was in front of the shop, waiting for her to come and trying to keep myself in check.
A task, as it seemed, to be harder than most.
The realization of my predicament had hit me like a fist to the balls. I was sweating, which was as rapid as a waterfall down a canyon and as welcome as a fart at a party; it was only through the power of a good deodorant stick that I avoided stinking up that whole street. I really didn't know what was wrong with me- it's not like I had never been on a date before; hell, my entire high school experience revolved around them. Maybe it was because it had been so long since my last one, that I was afraid I'd be rusty.
I was seriously thinking of just bailing on this whole deal and going home and throwing a pillow at Jeffie if he asked any questions when I heard the voice behind me.
"God, I thought you'd never call."
She looked really cute. Her hair was up in a ponytail, and it seemed shiny, as though it had been done specifically for this occasion. She was dressed decent, not like all those girls I used to date back in high school. Dressed more like the girls I used to avoid in high school. I didn't mind it today, though; I just grinned at her and offered her seat to her at the small little table.
OK. Maybe this wasn't going to be so hard.
I found out a lot about her today. Her full name's Claire Amberson and she's just recently moved here from Central. She had just graduated from the university there and wanted to move out here to get away from the noises the city provided. She had read my book while she had been in the city, and knew I lived out here, but had not recognized me until that day in the bookstore. She's an English major, a real bookworm, but that's OK, because at that point I really didn't care. She's really cool.
And, turns out, she had a brother that fought in Lior. He was in a different company, so I never knew him, but he was a sergeant, just like me, and he was one of the soldiers that went missing after the battle had ended.
Maybe I should re-cap.
Seven thousand soldiers went into Lior to get Scar, but he was expecting us, and had his own plan as well. We discovered a bit too late that the array he had carved in around and in the town was a transmutation circle, and it was too late to back out. Having known of the predicament, I had kept my squad out of the town. But the casualties were insurmountable. Twenty-eight men ended up dead, and another sixty-seven became wounded. Five officers made the list, amongst them Archer. But the crushing blow was the nine hundred men that went missing, their whereabouts to this day known only to God.
…Y'know, I never did find out if Scar got his wish or not. With everything that had happened directly afterwards, the thought had been pushed from my mind.
Claire missed him terribly, and she thought of him a lot. That kinda sounded like me; not a day goes by where Smokey and Shadow and all those guys come back, with those smiles on their faces. Some nights, too; that's what the dreams are for. But war affects everyone, not just the ones that were in it. The family members, the ones that wait day and night for something they're never even sure of- they suffer, too. My family was lucky; they got their son back, a little maimed, a lot different, but he returned. The family members of most of my friends weren't so lucky. Claire's family wasn't either.
The rest of the afternoon went pleasantly, us talking about any random thing that happened to pass into our brains. It was the best thing in the world, for both of us, apparently, and only had to end because Claire's sister (roommate?) called and said she should be home now. Neither of us wanted it to end, but I promised we could hang out later on this week. She told me she'd stick me to my promise, and gave me that little wave that she gave me that day we first met. Then we parted ways, me feeling slightly giddy and joyful.
Jeffie asked me over and over what had happened. I told him the truth- just talk, not much more- but he refused to buy it, because, as he put it, it just wasn't me. I just shrugged and went to help Mom with dinner.
I hope I get another day like this soon.
Finally done.
Review please.
