There’s been a lot of change this year. Unfortunately, there hasn’t been THE big change for Der Mann and myself – the buying of a house. That is a thing that is still on the horizon and I really need to get myself together and get that project moving.
However, there have been other things going on that may not seem as big in comparison, but yet. Small changes are just as important as the big ones.
The largest change I’ve felt (so far) has been in my work life. Bossman left in April, and I spent months essentially by myself, holding everything together with my fingertips.
Then they hired BossLADY. And things began to change.
The first thing she did was elect to call me by my preferred name.*
And a weight fell off of my soul. I don’t know how else to describe it.
Big Bossman was horrified when he found out I preferred a different name than the one he’d been using. He didn’t understand Bossman’s opposition, and afterward, made a concerted effort to use the name I prefer. And he still occasionally forgets, but he works at it. Others in my office have picked up on the situation and have begun to work on changing their habit as well.
It makes a huge difference. I honestly didn’t realize how much I felt like someone else, an outsider, an imposter even, at my workplace.
I feel more like me, and my confidence has increased. I’m no longer doubting my abilities – perhaps the months holding things together helped with that, but still!
It is everything to me to actually feel like ME.
And that is what’s in a name.
*Full disclosure – this is not a case of my supervisor choosing to use a deadname or anything horrific like that. That is discrimination and harrassment, not at all the situation I was in, and makes my name preference (and it is just a preference) a small issue, honestly. I prefer to use a nickname over my given name, and Former Bossman did not approve of nicknames in the workplace.
“Of course,” he said, holding out his hand. “Come, let me tell you.”
Eymi took his hand and stepped forward, dropping the book she hadn’t let out of her sight since the girls were whisked through the first door in Syd’s closet.
Jin picked up the book and looked at the other girls. Her brow puckered in worry. “Eymi?”
Eymi didn’t answer. She stepped closer to the vampire,and he began to slowly slide his arm around her waist. Syd glanced at Jin, who nodded, and Syd let loose with a resounding kick to the vampire’s ankle.
He howled and released Eymi to grab his bruised ankle. He hopped around on one foot, throwing the rudest Shakespearian insults at the girls.
“Stop it, or I’ll kick the other ankle,” Syd warned. He stood still and she glared at him while he massaged his ankle.
Eymi shook her head and blinked rapidly. “What happened? Syd, did you kick him? He was going to help us!”
“No, he was going to help himself. To you,” Jin snapped, stepping up beside Syd to match her glare at the now shamefaced vampire.
“Wait – what? I have such a headache,” Eymi mumbled. “Is there somewhere I can go lie down?” She cast a beseeching look at the vampire who met her eyes, nodded, and gestured. She stepped forward, going to him. Myck and Jeyn grabbed Eymi’s arms, holding her, though she kept trying to move.
Syd stomped forward, making sure her platform boots echoed on the wooden boards. “Stop it. Now,” Syd ordered, drawing her foot back for another kick.
The vampire threw up his hands and snapped his fingers. Eymi stopped moving, and looked from Myck to Jeyn in confusion.
“You need to leave. You’re more trouble than you’re worth, and I need to learn my lines.” He pointed toward the only door left in the room, now that the Book Door had faded. “Away with you! Shoo! Out!” He scurried behind them, making pushing motions with his hands.
Syd and Jin stepped through, then turned to watch in order to make sure he’d let Eymi leave. There was a tiny struggle getting through the door as Myck and Jeyn refused to let go of Eymi’s arms. Finally, they pushed through, and the vampire slammed the door after them.
“Seriously?” Syd said. She tossed her head. “What a jerk.”
Jin handed Eymi her book. “Are you okay?”
Eymi took the book and clutched to to her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around the book and herself. “Yes,” she said. “I still have a headache, though. What happened?”
“He tried to hypnotize you,” Jin said. She looked around the hallway. “Let’s get out of here. Maybe we should find somewhere to sit down for a minute and think.”
“Good idea,” Myck agreed. The girls trooped down the hall toward door at the far end.
They exited the building, and wandered down a narrow, cobblestoned street. Overhead, half-timbered houses leaned together, blocking out most of the sky. People scurried about their business, ignoring the girls. The women wore long dresses with wide skirts and puffed sleeves. The men wore sleeveless vests over short, puffy pants that stopped at mid-thigh; their lower legs were covered by hose, often wrinkled and baggy. Many people also sported high, ornate collars and ruffs that seemed to inhibit their ability to turn their heads. Vampires and humans mingled freely.
The girls walked down the street, looking in windows as they passed. At street level, the buildings appeared to house businesses, but hanging laundry showed the upper levels were used as residences. The group came to halt in front of one building that didn’t have any laundry hanging from the higher railings. There was a placard that proclaimed the place to be The Gentle Cove. However, the noise coming from the place was far from gentle.
The girls clustered before the streaky windows; no one wanted to lean close to the scum coating the glass in order to look inside. Dim light flickered as people crossed before the grimy glass. A door opened, and a man and woman stumbled out, leaning on each other and laughing raucously as they reeled down the street. The noise increased when the door opened, and the girls finally got a glimpse inside.
Syd crossed her arms and set her face into an all-too-familiar look. “I’m not going in there.”
“Nope, me neither,” Jin chimed in. She too, crossed her arms, copying Syd’s stance. The two girls eyed each other, then burst into giggles. Myck rolled her eyes.
“Did anyone even suggest going in there?” she asked, and flapped her hand at Eymi. “But we have to find somewhere to sit for a minute, and soon.”
Syd and Jin glanced over. Eymi’s eyes were half closed, and she slumped against the windowsill.
“Ew, get her up!” Jin exclaimed, grabbing one of Eymi’s arms. Jeyn got on the other side, and they hoisted her upright.
“Good thing she’s tiny,” Jin griped, as the girls moved away from the building and continued down the street.
A few more minutes of walking brought them to a cross street. The girls stopped so Jin and Jeyn could allow Syd and Myck to take over helping Eymi, and also to survey their surroundings. The buildings across the street, even the road itself, looked different.
The road was bisected by a line that glowed white in the moonlight. Syd eyed the smoother road and paved sidewalk on the other side. “I want to go over there. These cobblestones are wrecking my shoes,” she said.
Myck shrugged. Jeyn said, “Why not? It looks more modern over there. Maybe we can find somewhere to sit down and talk.”
She started to step onto the roadway, but paused when the girls heard the sounds of loud engines, squealing tires, and some vaguely familiar popping sounds.
Jeyn retreated a step. “Is that gunfire?”
No one had time to answer as an old-fashioned car careened around the corner, closely followed by another. Men hung off running boards and out of the windows of the second car, waving pistols, tommy guns, and yelling. The first car was a convertible, and the front seat held a driver and one other, while the man in the back faced the car following and let off periodic bursts from the boxy machine gun braced on back seat.
“We’re going to get shot!” Jin wailed.
“I don’t think so,” Jeyn observed. “Watch.”
The girls froze, watching the shoot out. While bullets did come spraying in their direction, nothing made it past the glowing line in the middle of the street. The shooting paused momentarily while the gangsters reloaded. Behind them, the girls heard a shutter slam open.
“Varlets!” an annoyed voice shouted. “Take your noise back to your own district or the High Sheriff will know of this!”
The gangsters froze, then, to the girls’ surprise, meekly put away their guns. The second car pulled up beside the first, and a man stuck his head out the window.
“We got too close to Shakespeare,” he said. “Let’s reconvene and finish this two days from now. I got my nephew’s birthday tomorrow, you know.”
The man in the passenger seat of the convertible nodded. “Sounds swell. Tell your nephew happy birthday for me, eh?”
The first man nodded, sat back and rolled up his window. The car pulled off and the gangsters saw the girls. The man leaning out of the back seat over the back end of the car gestured with his machine gun. “Check out the dames!”
All heads turned to the girls. The man on the passenger side got out of the car, but didn’t approach. He waved, and said, “It’s safe for now, if you want to cross into Capone.”
From the Globe to gangsters, Elizabethan Era to the Roaring Twenties….
The girls exchanged glances. Jeyn said, “I want to find somewhere to sit down and talk. I say we go.”
No one else had an objection, so the girls crossed the road. They stopped on the sidewalk, and the two groups sized each other up.
“You’re not actually from Shakespeare,” the blond man said and smiled, showing his fangs. The gangster in the back seat turned around and brought his gun to bear on the girls.
“So where are you from?” the vampire inquired. “Actually, what are you? You’re not human. You’re not vampires. You were already partly across the line before I invited you. If you belonged here, you wouldn’t have been able to do that.”
Jeyn raised her eyebrows. “What?”
The gangster vampire smiled. “Cross districts in this city. We,” he gestured at the other vampires, “are tethered to the era in which we were changed, and are confined to our districts. One may only cross by invitation or during periods of truce, unless you are a High Sheriff. You can cross the boundaries, and you’re obviously sheriffs, therefore, you must not be from here.”
Jin rolled her eyes. “We’re definitely not from here and we want to go home.”
Jeyn said, “Actually, right now all I want is some decent coffee.”
The blond vampire’s eyes lit up. “Coffee? I can’t get you home, but I can get you coffee!”
Jeyn looked around. “Where? I don’t see a coffee shop. In fact, everything shut down when you guys started shooting.”
The gangster grinned, showing his fangs. “Not here, in Kerouac. There’s a fantastic coffee shop there! I have a standing invitation for every other Tuesday and the last Friday of the month, so I can cross and meet my friend. Come, come, let me take you!” He opened the car door and bowed to the girls.
They climbed in, wiggling and complaining (Jin and Syd), as the car was rather cramped with the five girls and four vampires. Eventually, the girls got the backseat, and the muscle holstered their guns and balanced on the running boards. The driver drove at a much more sedate pace, so as not to shake off his bosses bodyguards. Finally, the car pulled up to a curb and the driver killed the engine.
Across the street, the landscape changed yet again. The buildings had a modernist feel, with touches of the neo-futuristic here and there. Window and door frames were painted vivid colors, and most boasted hangings with psychedelic designs.
“Oh, now it makes sense,” Jin said. “Kerourac. Beat. Psychedelia. Interesting.”
A blond man moved down the road toward them, but the girls couldn’t get a good look at his face as he was busily scribbling in a notebook. The gangster hailed him and the other vampire looked up.
Seeing the group standing at the border, he tucked his notebook away and hurried to meet them. “Is today one of our days? I’ll feel terrible if I’ve forgotten.”
“No, no,” the gangster assured the poet. “But Thad, these ladies need to sit down and talk, and this one,” he indicated Jeyn with a wave, “is in dire need of good coffee.”
The poet frowned, and the gangster hastened to reassure his friend. “They’re not from here. They can cross. They came into Capone through Shakespeare.”
The poet nodded. “Well, if coffee is what you need, I know where you should go. Come with me, ladies.”
The girls thanked the gangster and stepped over the line into the Kerouac District.
When The Reverie Breaks 