[crow]

Quietly, she reached out, this time without closing her eyes. Her hand gripped the pendant tightly in her hand, even though she knew she didn't have to do that for the trick to work. She breathed in, then out, then in again; something in her gut tightened and released. She shifted herself back into a sitting position and looked about her. Here, alone, it was tough to see whether or not it had worked, but she could no longer feel any movement in the air whatsoever. She looked around and chuckled to herself. It barely made any difference whether time flowed here or not, though she knew that she would have more of the night to herself if she kept everything frozen up like this. What time was it now, anyway? She didn't have a watch, and she didn't know.

She would have to go back soon, but for the moment, she was happy to stay where she was. She couldn't fall asleep here--- Elliot would freak if he found her missing in the morning. Besides, it was cold, and she liked having all of her toes.

[crow]

Charlie dozed off, despite her best intentions. She only realized it when she felt a weight being draped over her, and sat up with a start. Her first thought was to check whether it was day--- she felt a flood of relief to see that the sky was still fully dark, but then she remembered why she'd woken up, and looked down to find a big baggy coat covering her like a too-small blanket.

She looked beside her, and found, of all things, the busker boy from before.

"Hey there, stranger," he said. She couldn't see him well, but she thought he might have been grinning. She hoped the darkness hid her face, since she was pretty reasonably sure that her eyes were as wide as saucers right now.

[crow]

There were so many thing she ought to have asked him: what he was doing here, how he found this place, why she hadn't been able to see him coming. She wanted to ask, but her mouth wouldn't form the words. The fact that her lips were blue didn't help. She had just enough coordination and presence of mind to fling the coat back at him, though she immediately regretted it. She had been warm, or at least warmer, under its bulk. The coat lay in a pile between them, until he bent down to pick it up. From her perspective sitting on the ground, he looked taller than ever, his silhouette against the sky, a great long shadow. His gangly limbs and rounded shoulders made him look like a scarecrow, guarding the old farm against the birds.

"Suit yourself," he said, donning the coat she'd discarded. He blew at his fingers to warm them, taking a seat beside her, as if they were friends.

[crow]

That was what finally snapped her back to reality. She was in the middle of nowhere with some weirdo whom she had seen at the park. The sheer unlikelihood of it made her wonder if it was a dream, and she pinched her cheeks as hard as she could, but she didn't wake up. Which left her to the other conclusion: that somehow he had found her and sought her out, all the way out here, in her secret hideaway.

"What are you doing here?" she asked curtly.

He took his time before replying. She was about to repeat herself, thinking that maybe he hadn't heard her the first time, when he said, "I could ask you the same thing. Pretty lonely place, isn't it?" There he went again with that casual familiarity. What was his deal?

[crow]

Mystery boy wasn't exactly being forthcoming about... okay, anything, so talking to him any more was probably going to be in vain, and an exercise in frustration to boot. Charlie didn't have the patience for anything like that. The obvious thing to do would have been to leave--- she'd risk being seen using her doors, sure, but if the busker wasn't a figment of her imagination, he must have had some sort of strange ability too.

That last thought gave her some pause for thought, and she turned to look at him, but there was nothing in space the busker boy had once occupied after all. Charlie sighed; if she was hallucinating, then she must have been real tired. Maybe she was still in Elliot's room, having dreamt the whole thing up after all. What a joke. She went five years without having any dreams and the first one to break the record is something like this. She wondered if you could ask for your money back on those things.

[crow]

On the off chance that it wasn't a dream though, she still had to get back home. No matter how she looked at it, she had been out here long enough, if not too long already. She got to her feet with a muffled groan, shaking out the cold and numbness from her limbs. She pinched her cheeks a few times to wake herself up, then ambled back toward the door. She made sure to shut it firm before she opened it again, pausing a moment to stare at the empty hallway that awaited her. Everything was silent from both sides of the door, but a chilly wind blew from behind her, as if giving her that final nudge. She stepped through the door and closed it again behind her, and as quietly as possible, she crept into her brother's room and slipped under the covers.

[crow]

He stirred slightly as the mattress dipped beneath the new weight, blinking his eyes blearily. “Charlie? Is it time to wake up?” he said, his voice still soft and hoarse with sleep.

“Shhh, not yet. Go back to sleep, Elly,” she said, settling the blankets about herself and giving him a hug. Elliot turned over so he could nestle closer to her, and she curled herself around his small body. That was how they always slept in the cold months, partly for warmth and partly for company. The familiar gesture brought her some comfort, and she smoothed her hand over his hair over and over, just as she used to do when he was a toddler. It wasn't until he had fallen asleep that she finally felt herself drifting off, lulled by the sound of his breathing.

[crow]

In the morning, there was hell to pay for her little nightly excursion. Charlie found herself being shaken awake, and only came to because her assailant refused to relent. “Charlie, Charlie, you're gonna be late! They're gonna fire you! Hurry up!” Elliot was staring down at her with huge, worried eyes, shoving at her shoulder with both hands. He was already dressed, and she could just make out the straps of his backpack on his shoulders. She bolted up with a start at that, looked to the bedside clock, and groaned.

“Why didn't you wake me sooner?” she said, scrambling out of bed and stumbling toward the closet.

“I tried,” he said, a whine creeping into his voice. “You wouldn't wake up. Your clothes are on the bed,” he added. Charlie changed direction mid-stumble and angled herself back in the direction of the bed.

[crow]

It still looked so tempting. For a moment, she almost allowed herself to flop back onto it and doze off for a few more minutes, but instead she slapped herself in the face. There was no time for that. She pulled the jacket over her sweaters, and found that she was forced to be glad for the fact that she had slept in her day clothes. She itched like a fiend from all the sweaters, but it did save time. She raked a hand through her hair and tied it up, doing a cursory check in the mirror to see just how much of a train wreck she looked like. She grimaced. Long story short, it wasn't pretty, but it would have to do.

“Anything to eat?” she asked, which really meant, was there anything she could grab from the kitchen and inhale as she ran to work. Elliot shook his head mournfully at her. Charlie swore under her breath, and began ushering him out the door. “Come on, let's go. You can't be late either, alright?”

[crow]

She didn't see hide or hair of her parents as they made their way downstairs, but she wasn't looking, and it was probably just as well. They probably would have stopped her for something stupid anyway. She stopped just long enough to slip into her shoes and make sure Elliot's were tied properly, then she rushed out the door, with Elliot on her heels.

It would have been easier, in theory, to have just opened a door somewhere and discreetly slipped out somewhere near the store, but there was too much risk of being seen. If she tried for somewhere less frequented, she might end up in a shady back alley, which was more trouble than it was worth. The result was that she was running to work with an empty stomach and a handful of hours of sleep, cursing herself and the world the whole time.

[crow]

She would have given anything to have skipped or been late, but Elliot hadn't been exaggerating when he had said she'd be fired. It had been a miracle that they'd hired her in the first place, what with her track record and lack of references, but she supposed that she had looked sufficiently raggedy and desperate. It was the kind of generosity you showed a sad-looking stray, even though it had fleas. Teachers were one thing, but her employers were another--- even if they were awful to her (which they weren't), she was still getting paid. And besides, she didn't want her boss to get into trouble with his higher-ups. He could only cover up for her so much.

She caught the bus just as it was about to pull away from the station, banging on the doors  with her hand until the driver let her on. He gave her the stink-eye as she passed him, but looking at her watch, she was too relieved to care. She'd make it in time, if only just.

[crow]

Charlie didn't have headphones—- couldn't afford the kind she wanted, and even if she bought a pair of cheap ones, she didn't have anything to plug it into anyway. Most of the time she didn't care, since having stuff only meant it would get stolen from her later, but when she was on the bus she found herself jealous of the people that could just put them on and tune out. Instead, she was forced to stare out the window, trying to filter out all the conversations. Some of it was just meaningless chatter, but a lot of the time she heard things she didn't want to hear. People ran their mouths whenever they had willing company, and all too often there would be a pair of chattering housewives or a loud old coot yammering at his offspring, talking so much shit that Charlie swore she was going to grind her own teeth right off.

She could hear someone in the back getting into some rant about how their kids weren't grateful enough. Thankfully the bus stopped just then and a whole gaggle of teenagers came on. Each one clamoured to be heard by their friends, drowning out each other and everyone else. Charlie shut her eyes and swayed with the motion of the bus, waiting.

[crow]

Half an hour later, she arrived at her stop, and ran two blocks down before making a right and heading into the film shop. The man at the desk greeted her with a smile. “Ah, Charlie! Right on time, as always.” He chuckled as she grinned ruefully back.

“I'm not really late, am I?” she asked. Rupert shook his head. He was the manager of the store, but the shop was small enough that he often manned the counter himself. He stepped out as she made her way to the cash register.

As he passed her, Rupert said, “You haven't forgotten what today is, right?”

“Delivery day,” Charlie replied triumphantly. Rupert laughed, a deep sound that came from his substantial belly. “And that means Cam's gonna drop by, huh?”

“I'd bet money on it, but I don't think anyone would take me up on that,” Rupert said. “Dave's probably going to come in too, before the truck arrives.”

[crow]

Delivery day happened once a month, maybe once every two weeks if they were doing well, and it was the one day where all the employees of the shop showed up to help unpack and sort the new inventory--- all three of them. A lot of their regulars dropped in too, though the only one who came in like clockwork was Cammie. The next two hours were slow, and Charlie busied herself sorting through the shelves and putting back misplaced items when there weren't any customers around. Rupert had bustled off to his room in the back, probably taking care of paperwork. It was a quiet shop, and truthfully Rupert probably only needed one other person to help him run it, but Charlie and Dave were both from the same breed of scruffy dead-end kids, and Rupert had a bit of a bleeding heart. He'd probably have picked up more kids if he could, but he just didn't run a big enough store for that. It was just as well, too--- she liked the shop for its quaint feel, and it was hard to imagine jolly old Rupert with his unhurried ways running one of those slick big-time operations.

[crow]

Dave slunk in around noon. Dave was a big guy with a built-in scowl and nose that looked as if it had been broken more than once. It didn't take much for trouble to find him. He was trying for clean now, starting to get some of his meaner and more visible tattoos removed, but he still had a few studs in his face and plenty of people still got the wrong impression. Charlie knew better though. She'd seen him with his dogs, and she'd kicked his ass before too. It was just not possible to be scared of him after that.

They gave each other the cursory look-over. Dave grunted; Charlie raised a brow; and just like that, he clocked in and she clocked out for lunch.

Cammie was just walking in as Charlie headed out, all brown curls and dimpled smiles. “Hey!” she said brightly. “You're going for lunch? Tell me I haven't missed the fun.”

Charlie smiled to see her. “Nah, truck won't be here for another hour at least.”

“Great! Then I'm coming with you,” Cammie declared, linking her arm with Charlie's.

“Bring me back something good,” Dave called after them. Charlie nodded, and Cammie gave him a jaunty wave.