of them, nor desire to expel them. They sought her warmth and her womanliness. She would not reject them.
‘Where’s Boone?’ she asked in her dream, assuming the dead would know. He was one of their number after all.
She knew he was not far from her, but the wind was getting stronger, buffeting her from all directions, howling around her head.
‘Boone?’ she said again. ‘I want Boone. Bring him to me.’
The wind heard her. Its howling grew louder.
But somebody else was nearby, distracting her from hearing its reply.
‘He’s dead, Lori,’ the voice said.
She tried to ignore the idiot voice, and concentrate on interpreting the wind. But she’d lost her place in the conversation, and had to begin again.
‘It’s Boone I want,’ she said. ‘Bring me –’
‘
No
!’
Again, that damn voice.
She tried a third time, but the violence of the wind had become another violence; she was being shaken.
‘Lori! Wake up!’
She clung to sleep; to the dream of wind. It might yet tell her what she needed to know if she could resist the assault of consciousness a moment longer.
‘Boone!’ she called again, but the winds were receding from her, and taking the dead with them. She felt the itch of their exit from her veins and senses. What knowledge they had to impart was going with them. She was powerless to hold them.
‘
Lori
.’
Gone now; all of them gone. Carried away on the storm.
She had no choice but to open her eyes knowing they would find Sheryl, mere flesh and blood, sitting at the end of the bed and smiling at her.
‘Nightmare?’ she said.
‘No. Not really.’
‘You were calling his name.’
‘I know.’
‘You should have come out with me,’ Sheryl said. ‘Get him out of your system.’
‘Maybe.’
Sheryl was beaming; she clearly had news to tell.
‘You met somebody?’ Lori guessed.
Sheryl’s smile became a grin.
‘Who’d have thought it?’ she said. ‘Mother may have been right after all.’
‘That good?’
‘That good.’
‘Tell all.’
‘There’s not much to tell. I just went out to find a bar, and I met this great guy. Who’d have thought it?’ she said again. ‘In the middle of the damn prairies? Love comes looking for me.’
Her excitement was a joy to behold; she could barely contain her enthusiasm, as she gave Lori a complete account of the night’s romance. The man’s name was Curtis; a banker, born in Vancouver, divorced and recently moved to Edmonton. They were perfect complimentaries she said; star signs, tastes in food and drink, family background. And better still, though they’d talked for hours he’d not once tried to persuade her out of her underwear. He was a gentleman: articulate, intelligent and yearning for the sophisticated life of the West Coast, to which he’d intimated he’d return if he could find the right companion. Maybe she was it.
‘I’m going to see him again tomorrow night,’ Sheryl said. ‘Maybe even stay over a few weeks if things go well.’
‘They will,’ Lori replied. ‘You deserve some good times.’
‘Are you going back to Calgary tomorrow?’ Sheryl asked.
‘Yes’ was the reply her mind was readying. But the dream was there before her, answering quite differently.
‘I think I’ll go back to Midian first,’ it said. ‘I want to see the place one more time.’
Sheryl pulled a face.
‘Please don’t ask me to go.’ she said. ‘I’m not up for another visit.’
‘No problem,’ Lori replied. ‘I’m happy to go alone.’
X
Sun and Shade
T he sky was cloudless over Midian, the air effervescent. All the fretfulness she’d felt during her first visit here had disappeared. Though this was still the town where Boone had died, she could not hate it for that. Rather the reverse: she and it were allies, both marked by the man’s passing.
It was not the town itself she’d come to visit however, it was the graveyard, and it did not disappoint her. The sun gleamed on the mausoleums, the sharp
‘Where’s Boone?’ she asked in her dream, assuming the dead would know. He was one of their number after all.
She knew he was not far from her, but the wind was getting stronger, buffeting her from all directions, howling around her head.
‘Boone?’ she said again. ‘I want Boone. Bring him to me.’
The wind heard her. Its howling grew louder.
But somebody else was nearby, distracting her from hearing its reply.
‘He’s dead, Lori,’ the voice said.
She tried to ignore the idiot voice, and concentrate on interpreting the wind. But she’d lost her place in the conversation, and had to begin again.
‘It’s Boone I want,’ she said. ‘Bring me –’
‘
No
!’
Again, that damn voice.
She tried a third time, but the violence of the wind had become another violence; she was being shaken.
‘Lori! Wake up!’
She clung to sleep; to the dream of wind. It might yet tell her what she needed to know if she could resist the assault of consciousness a moment longer.
‘Boone!’ she called again, but the winds were receding from her, and taking the dead with them. She felt the itch of their exit from her veins and senses. What knowledge they had to impart was going with them. She was powerless to hold them.
‘
Lori
.’
Gone now; all of them gone. Carried away on the storm.
She had no choice but to open her eyes knowing they would find Sheryl, mere flesh and blood, sitting at the end of the bed and smiling at her.
‘Nightmare?’ she said.
‘No. Not really.’
‘You were calling his name.’
‘I know.’
‘You should have come out with me,’ Sheryl said. ‘Get him out of your system.’
‘Maybe.’
Sheryl was beaming; she clearly had news to tell.
‘You met somebody?’ Lori guessed.
Sheryl’s smile became a grin.
‘Who’d have thought it?’ she said. ‘Mother may have been right after all.’
‘That good?’
‘That good.’
‘Tell all.’
‘There’s not much to tell. I just went out to find a bar, and I met this great guy. Who’d have thought it?’ she said again. ‘In the middle of the damn prairies? Love comes looking for me.’
Her excitement was a joy to behold; she could barely contain her enthusiasm, as she gave Lori a complete account of the night’s romance. The man’s name was Curtis; a banker, born in Vancouver, divorced and recently moved to Edmonton. They were perfect complimentaries she said; star signs, tastes in food and drink, family background. And better still, though they’d talked for hours he’d not once tried to persuade her out of her underwear. He was a gentleman: articulate, intelligent and yearning for the sophisticated life of the West Coast, to which he’d intimated he’d return if he could find the right companion. Maybe she was it.
‘I’m going to see him again tomorrow night,’ Sheryl said. ‘Maybe even stay over a few weeks if things go well.’
‘They will,’ Lori replied. ‘You deserve some good times.’
‘Are you going back to Calgary tomorrow?’ Sheryl asked.
‘Yes’ was the reply her mind was readying. But the dream was there before her, answering quite differently.
‘I think I’ll go back to Midian first,’ it said. ‘I want to see the place one more time.’
Sheryl pulled a face.
‘Please don’t ask me to go.’ she said. ‘I’m not up for another visit.’
‘No problem,’ Lori replied. ‘I’m happy to go alone.’
X
Sun and Shade
T he sky was cloudless over Midian, the air effervescent. All the fretfulness she’d felt during her first visit here had disappeared. Though this was still the town where Boone had died, she could not hate it for that. Rather the reverse: she and it were allies, both marked by the man’s passing.
It was not the town itself she’d come to visit however, it was the graveyard, and it did not disappoint her. The sun gleamed on the mausoleums, the sharp
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