Lenny could not believe what had happened in the course of three days. When he started finding the rhythm again at work, Jake dissolved his partnership, and when he needed Samantha to be there for him, she left him. All of this occurred at the prompting of his sweater. He designed the storyboards for his clients because he thought he knew his clients, but he was wrong. Although, that was not exactly true. He was right what the client wanted, he was wrong that the client would want that for his business. It was a little different with Samantha. He never claimed to know what she was thinking. In fact, he knew that he did not understand her. Instead, he took his relationship for granted and focused all of his efforts on trying to understand the purpose behind the sweater. Whatever its purpose is, it obviously is not to improve Lenny’s life.

Lenny drove around aimlessly, not looking at where he was going or where he was. He was happy to find a traffic jam. Sitting in the traffic jam enabled him to think clearly about what was going on in his life. As he looked out to the cars in front of him, he knew what caused the traffic. There was a broken down van in the right lane. Its inhabitants had abandoned the van and were now walking back to their trailer park. Lenny pulled his thoughts off of knowing and instead thought about what he did wrong.

The traffic cleared quicker than Lenny expected and he found himself back at his apartment earlier than he expected. He did not want to think about how he was going to pay the rent for the next month, or what he was going to do tomorrow. He had been hoping for this moment of not having to go into work for so long that now that it arrived, he was not sure he wanted it anymore. Be careful what you wish for, he thought dreadfully.

His apartment was quiet when he unlocked the door. He took off his shoes at the door and turned on all the lights. He turned on the stereo until music pumped through the house. He did not care much what the music was he just wanted to hear something that would distract him from the dread that was building inside of him. He thought about taking off the sweater and throwing it into the corner, but decided not to. He could not imagine living without knowing, regardless of what knowing had cost him. Looking back, he saw that it was not the knowing that caused his troubles, it was what he did when he knew the truth about the situation and the people involved.

His doorbell rang and Lenny felt instantly better. As long as Samantha was there, he felt he could get through this part. He would apologize and explain everything to her. She had the right to know what had been going on with him for the past few months. It was wrong that he kept it from her. He saw that now. Knowing truths did not tell him how he could use the truths. He had mistaken the power of the sweater and he now had to go back and fix all those mistakes. Lenny pulled on a clean pair of pants and went to the door. He’ll take Samantha out and then apologize. She will understand once he explains everything. Lenny checked his hair in the mirror, pushed back a few stray strands, and opened the door.

The man on the other side of the door held up his knuckle to rap on the door. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Lenny, but I needed to talk to you,” the man said.

Lenny studied the man. He knew he had seen him before, but he was trying to place him. He was short and wore a nice suit. It was not as expensive as Jake wore, but it was above your average business worker’s wear. He held a suitcase and his hands were small for his tall frame. Something tugged at his memory, but he could still not place him. “I’m sorry. And you are?” Lenny said.

“We’ve met before, at a certain coffee shop,” the man said.

“Ah! You’re the man who pretended to be a policeman. You left the shop pretty quickly when I called you on it. You also said some things about my aunt that turned out to be only partially true. I can’t say I’m happy to see you, but I am excited to know what you know about my aunt’s condition,” Lenny said. For all that he should have felt afraid or curious, he did not. He did not know anything about this man, and yet he was calm and they were talking as if he had not told Lenny three weeks ago that his aunt was dead. Lenny realized that his knuckles on the door handle were turning white and released it.

“May I come in?” the man said.

“Oh, by all means. Please, make yourself comfortable. Perhaps you’d like some tea,” Lenny said, before sitting down on the couch across from the man. The man was shorter than Lenny, something he had not noticed when he saw him at the coffee shop. He also had a different attitude, as if something struck him done from whatever high horse he had been riding on. He seemed nervous and glanced over his shoulder often and seemed almost to snivel when he talked.

“I’ve been looking for something, Lenny. It has to do with your aunt. You see, there are these people—I don’t know if I should be telling you this,” the man said.

“I don’t know either. I don’t know why you’re here or what you want to tell me. But you are here now, and my week can’t get any worse with what you have to tell me, so have out with it,” Lenny said.

“Is that what you want, lots of exposition that grinds the story to a halt? Haven’t I given enough exposition for one stupid book? This is where you jump the shark, not that there’s much of a shark left to jump,” David said.

The weeks after Teary-Eye’s death were long for Yeanda. There was a lot of planning she was responsible for in the village. She attended many meetings where she had to convince the mayor and his advisers that they were going to have to leave the village. Red-Down was not around to help her with any of it. After the village meeting, Red-Down returned to live with her parents. She told Yeanda that they needed her more than she did. It was crushing for Yeanda. She had failed Teary-Eye and Red-Down, and she felt like she was failing the village.

The mayor decided not to send anyone to the white man’s town. It was too risky. They might think something was wrong with Teary-Eye, and they might move up their invasion. Yeanda spent much of her time, when she was not preparing the village to leave or convincing the townspeople that, yes, they really had no choice, and, no, there was no negotiating with the white man, trying to know the white man’s plans. From growing up in their towns, she knew them well. Her father was a military man, and he loved to talk about their conquests and their troop movements. Whatever he told her, however, was dated. She had not been among her own kind in many years, and she was not as sure about what they were planning. Her visions were cloudy. She saw the village burning, but she was not sure if the people got out in time.

She sat on her rug staring into her fire place. The burning logs cracked and popped, shooting sparks and ashes onto the floor. There was a timid knock on her door and she turned around. “Come in, Red-Down,” Yeanda said. She did not expect to have a chance to talk to her before they left. Yeanda knew that once she helped the villagers get out of the village and begin their trek to their new village, she would not see them again. Her presence was too much of a risk. If she remained in the new village, the white man would eventually track her down. It was better for everyone if she moved on.

“I’m sorry to bother you, wise woman,” Red-Down said as she entered Yeanda’s hut.

“You were never a bother, Red-Down,” Yeanda said. She grabbed her by her hands and sat down cross-legged on the floor. Red-Down sat with her.

“I told you before that I never understood how you do what you do, wise woman. You see things that I can’t imagine, and you know things—I don’t understand it. I’ve studied with you and learned all of your lessons, but I still don’t understand. I trusted you implicitly to do what’s right for the village,” Red-Down said and then grew quiet.

Yeanda knew that there was more she wanted to say. “Go on, Red-Down. If you still trust that vision, then you must believe me when I say that I won’t be around for much longer. When the townspeople leave for the new village, I must leave the village. I’ve caused enough pain and suffering. It’s time that you had a chance to live free of my influence,” Yeanda said.

“I thought as much, wise woman,” Red-Down said. There was no bitterness in her voice. Yeanda expected resentment or hatred, but there was nothing. Not even resignation. Yeanda still held Red-Down’s hands in her own, but they were limp, as if they had no energy of their own.

“Red-Down, what is it? We’ve not kept things from each other and now, after all that has happened, I don’t want us to keep anything. Please, tell me what you’re feeling. I told you that I was terribly sorry for what happened to Teary-Eye. I knew there was a risk, but I didn’t expect the mayor to act as rashly as he did. I’ve grown soft and my judgment is not what it used to be. It was not the mayor’s fault. It was my own for not seeing what was going to happen. You must learn that as a wise woman you have limited powers. You need to know what is going to happen before it happens. That is the only way you can change people. You need to work early and subtly,” Yeanda said, falling into her teaching cadence.

“Enough, wise woman, I am no longer your apprentice. I did not come here for lessons on how to deal with the village. As I said, I do not have the gifts that you possess. I can offer my people little besides my knowledge of herbs and childbirth. I came by to say goodbye. I am leaving this village on the morrow. I have talked it over with my parents and they see it as for the best. I have taken over Teary-Eye’s trading routes and I plan to fulfill his obligations. I take the remaining harvest to the white man’s town tomorrow,” Red-Down said.

Yeanda was surprised. In all the possibilities for Red-Down’s future, this was not one she had contemplated. But each person dealt with grief in their own way. If this was Red-Down’s means, then Yeanda was not one to judge. “I am not displeased by your choice, Red-Down. You will find your path. If it is meant to be then it will be. But please promise me that you will be careful with the white man. He does not respect woman as the people in the village. He especially does not respect woman different from him. He finds them interesting and exciting, but not something they respect,” Yeanda said.

“I do not go to him to earn his respect. I go to fulfill Teary-Eye’s obligation and find out what he promised them. I will not return to the village, the new village, when I am done. There is not a place here for me anymore. You saw to that,” Red-Down said. She pulled her hands from Yeanda’s grasp, her hands still limp and cool. Yeanda watched Red-Down leave the hut. No angry emotion passed across Red-Down’s face. What she did she did out of what she thought of as obligation.

Word count: 2,073

Remaining words: 21,283 (too many)

Caffeination: 2 sips of Vanilla Coke

Feeling: How do you think? Horrible, yet again. I was tired and headachy all day. I don’t know how I’m going to finish this. It’s not the 2k words. That’s easy. It’s actually saying something or drawing this story to a close (or even a middle). I am learning a lot about how I write, and I would do many things different next time. But I’m going to suck it up and finish pounding out the 50k worthless words. Whether when I put them all together there will be a story is unlikely. But I refuse to fail.