In the Valley of Lost Souls

Copyright © 2015 Diana van Eyk.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Used with permission of the author from the song You Can Change the World written by Joe Mock, performed by Pied Pumkin www.piedpumkin.com

Balboa Press

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

ISBN: 978-1-5043-2751-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5043-2749-7 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5043-2750-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015901654

Balboa Press rev. date: 02/20/2015

Contents

Acknowledgements

Dedication

Chapter 1    Nowhere to Go

Chapter 2    Dagmar

Chapter 3    Ross

Chapter 4    Looking for Options

Chapter 5    Reconnecting

Chapter 6    Hidden Home

Chapter 7    A New Day

Chapter 8    Letting Go

Chapter 9    Meditations

Chapter 10    The Labyrinth

Chapter 11    A Visit With a Friend

Chapter 12    The First Supper

Chapter 13    Life in the Margins

Chapter 14    A New Gig

Chapter 15    Inner Changes

Chapter 16    The Lucky Ones

Chapter 17    The Love Bite

Chapter 18    Around the Table

Chapter 19    Up the Hill

Chapter 20    Broke-Down Palace

Chapter 21    News From Vancouver

Chapter 22    The Green Team

Chapter 23    Musings

Chapter 24    For the Altar

Chapter 25    Love Beyond the Grave

Chapter 26    Diminished Voices

Chapter 27    Here but Not Here

Chapter 28    Old Friends

Chapter 29    Wined and Dined

Chapter 30    The Food Bank

Chapter 31    Lillian

Chapter 32    A Short Visit

Chapter 33    ’Tis the Season

Chapter 34    January

Chapter 35    George

Chapter 36    The Velveteen Rabbit

Chapter 37    An Offer

Chapter 38    Developments

Chapter 39    Next Steps

Chapter 40    Meeting at the Mansion

Chapter 41    Elation

Chapter 42    Passing It On

Chapter 43    Final Details

Chapter 44    Moving

Chapter 45    First Meal at the Mansion

Chapter 46    New Home

Chapter 47    Entertaining at the Mansion

Chapter 48    SPIN Farming 101

Chapter 49    Tina the Ballerina

Chapter 50    Movie Night

Chapter 51    An Evening With Friends

Chapter 52    Velvet

Chapter 53    Rude Awakening

Chapter 54    Sea Cruise

Chapter 55    Anticipation

Chapter 56    On the Couch

Chapter 57    Jess

Chapter 58    The Phoenix

Chapter 59    Abandoned House Update

Chapter 60    Gaia

Chapter 61    Dream Gone Sour

Chapter 62    Guys Sometimes

Chapter 63    Online Introduction

Chapter 64    Dreams for the Future

Chapter 65    Vanessa

Chapter 66    Dad’s Place

Chapter 67    Reunion at the Love Bite

Chapter 68    Setting Up

Chapter 69    Just One Drink

Chapter 70    Anima Mundi

Chapter 71    A Hard Morning

Chapter 72    Ellen’s at Ten

Chapter 73    Community Currency

Chapter 74    Chloe

Chapter 75    Dollars and Sense

Chapter 76    Money Talk

Chapter 77    On a Hike

Chapter 78    Home Again

Chapter 79    A Short Walk

Chapter 80    Sirens in the Morning

Chapter 81    Getting Things Straight

Chapter 82    Band Practice

Chapter 83    Insights

Chapter 84    Green Connections

Chapter 85    A Daughter’s Love

Chapter 86    Realization

Chapter 87    Green Property Value

Chapter 88    Sunday

Chapter 89    Targeted

Chapter 90    Lament

Chapter 91    Vortex

Chapter 92    Line in the Sand

Chapter 93    Put to the Test

Chapter 94    For the Children

Chapter 95    Historical

Chapter 96    Ground Truthing

Chapter 97    Candle

Chapter 98    Family

Chapter 99    Busy Times

Chapter 100    Soup for Cole

Chapter 101    Another Try

Chapter 102    Reminiscing

Chapter 103    Consultation

Chapter 104    Contemplation

Chapter 105    Clothes Swap

Chapter 106    Presentation

Chapter 107    Visit With Amelda

Chapter 108    Clarity

Chapter 109    A Gift

Chapter 110    Recommendations

Chapter 111    A Luxuriant Lunch

Chapter 112    Jess’s Vortex

Chapter 113    Preparations

Chapter 114    Circle Time

Chapter 115    Community Power

Chapter 116    House Plans

Chapter 117    Food Bank Transformation

Chapter 118    Butterfly

Chapter 119    Songs

Chapter 120    Grand Send-Off

Chapter 121    Checking In

Chapter 122    Deeper Green

Chapter 123    The Market

Chapter 124    Commitment

Chapter 125    Delayed Reaction

Chapter 126    Planning Session

Chapter 127    Faith

Chapter 128    Tea for Two

Chapter 129    Arrival

Chapter 130    Catching Up

Chapter 131    Sunshine

Chapter 132    Tree House

Chapter 133    Sharing Stories

Chapter 134    Sacred Grove

Chapter 135    Under a Spell

Chapter 136    A Shift

Chapter 137    Dan’s View

Chapter 138    Superhero

Chapter 139    Dining at Nimby’s

Chapter 140    Sirens Again

Chapter 141    Processing

Chapter 142    Big Folding

Chapter 143    Reconnecting

Chapter 144    An Enchanted Evening

Chapter 145    Driving Home

Chapter 146    Hearts

Chapter 147    A Glass of Wine

Chapter 148    New Growth

Chapter 149    The Search

Chapter 150    Coming Back to Life

Chapter 151    Revved Up

Chapter 152    Heart Health

Chapter 153    Back Again

Chapter 154    Inspired Gig

Chapter 155    Shooting Star

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I want to acknowledge Aldo van Eyk, Laurel Mercer, Suzelle Dube, Remi and Jordana Champagne, Rik Logtenburg and Wayne Sheridan for their enthusiastic support of my writing; Nicole Osbun and Andrew Carter and the staff of Balboa Books for their expert guidance; Bill Moore for persuading me to give fiction writing a try; Lonnie Shipe, Jason Yost, and my other IBOToolbox friends for their encouragement; Jess Grippo for her helpful online presence; Joe Percival and Jeannette Graf, and Jean and Derek Randall for our many philosophical discussions and great meals; Stan and Selina Vaneyk, Randy van Eyk and Mike Walmsley for their supportive presence; my parents, Betty and Jacob van Eyk; Michael Linton for the amazing Community Way model of local currency I’ve attempted to describe in this book, and Paul Hoepfner-Homme for introducing me to SPIN farming via my backyard. I also want to thank Joe Mock for permission to use the words to the song, ‘You Can Change the World’ written by him and performed by Pied Pumkin.

DEDICATION

Dedicated to Betty van Eyk, with love and gratitude.

CHAPTER 1

Nowhere to Go

D agmar and Ross stood in the crisp evening air of autumn. Their Green Team meeting had just ended. The Green Team, Silverdale’s main environmental group, was going through a reorganization. The group was taking its time, doing the best it could to engage its members in a process that would make it more effective and engaging.

Pipelines and tankers were the grist of the rumour mill at the meetings these days. There was talk of developing pipelines from the Alberta tar sands through their province, British Columbia, with the oil to be shipped on tankers to China.

A barrel of oil from the tar sands produced three times more greenhouse gas emissions than conventional oil. Tailing ponds holding the toxic residue from the tar sands spanned 176 square kilometres and could be seen from space. This operation had destroyed habitat for endangered wildlife and had polluted the drinking water of surrounding communities. In Canada, the tar sands represented the hope of the oil industry and the despair of environmentalists.

Everyone at the meeting hoped the pipelines wouldn’t be approved, but with both federal and provincial governments favouring the oil and gas industries, most feared that the pipelines would go through despite the great environmental risks. The pipelines would go through some highly sensitive habitat, and the oil tankers would be travelling along the B.C. coast, through some of the most treacherous waters in the world. The risk of oil spills along the pristine coastline was enormous.

As Dagmar and Ross exhausted this topic of conversation, they realized that neither of them was in a hurry to go anywhere.

So you don’t have anywhere to go home to either, eh? Ross asked Dagmar.

No. I don’t know what I’m going to do, she answered.

It was the end of the month, and she didn’t have money for rent—for the fifth month in a row. In Ross’s case, his long-time partner, Debbie, had just changed the locks of their home. Who would have guessed that Dagmar and Ross would find themselves middle-aged and homeless? Neither of them had any experience with this.

They each had a backpack. Dagmar’s held her laptop, a few clothes and some personal effects. She had been able to do a bit of planning earlier, and her friend Phoebe was storing some of her things.

Ross had been surprised at the turn of events, so he had only his guitar in its case and his backpack with some music in it, since he’d been to a band practice before the meeting. He’d gone home after the practice to find that his house key no longer worked. Not knowing what else to do, he’d gone to the Green Team meeting as planned.

Dagmar was getting cold. Would you like to come with me to my friend Phoebe’s? I’m sure she’d put us up for the night.

No, I don’t want to impose. You go ahead. I’ll be able to stay at a friend’s, Ross said. I had a feeling something like this might happen. I’ll be fine.

Do you want to meet somewhere tomorrow evening? Maybe we can check in with each other, she said. Sometimes it’s nice to have someone to talk to, to know you’re not alone in the world.

Couldn’t hurt, I guess, Ross said.

Say about seven or so here tomorrow night outside the Green Team building? asked Dagmar.

Yeah, that should work for me, Ross replied.

CHAPTER 2

Dagmar

D agmar walked briskly to the food co-op that she knew would still be open for another hour or so. As she walked through the automatic doors, she welcomed the warm air against her cold face. It was busy as usual, and she was glad that she didn’t run into anyone she knew. She didn’t want to tell anyone about her embarrassing predicament.

She walked to the back of the store to the discount produce section and found some overripe bananas. Then she found some day-old, sliced brown bread and some peanut butter that was on sale. At least she’d have peanut-butter-and-banana sandwiches.

She walked over to the cashier and pulled out a ten-dollar bill, then dug around for her change purse. The cashier smiled at her and told her what she owed. She was relieved to have just enough.

Enjoy your evening, said the cashier as Dagmar loaded the groceries into her backpack.

Thanks. You too, Dagmar replied, happy for this small normalizing encounter.

Back out in the cold she headed toward Phoebe’s place. As she walked up the hill, she looked at the windows on the bottom left of the fourplex where her friend lived and noticed that the lights of Phoebe’s unit were all off. She knew that Phoebe often went to bed early and got up early, and Dagmar didn’t want to disturb her. She stopped walking and stood on the sidewalk. Now what?

She knew there was a greenhouse in the backyard with a fold-out reclining lawn chair in it. She didn’t feel good about going in unannounced, but she promised herself she’d let Phoebe know the next time she saw her. There, between the raised boxes of lettuce, chard and other greens was the lawn chair, folded and leaning against the wall. And draped over the chair was a blanket. Dagmar closed the greenhouse door, unfolded the chair and put her backpack on the ground. She lay down, covered herself with the blanket and fell into a deep sleep.

CHAPTER 3

Ross

R oss walked the few blocks to Nimby’s, a nearby chain restaurant. He sat down in a booth, put his guitar in the seat across from him and ordered a beer and macaroni and cheese.

There were only a few other patrons in the restaurant. He could see the writing on the wall. Just like the photography shop where he used to sell frames, cameras and professional photography packages, Nimby’s was being left behind. Ross had lost his job at the photography shop a few months ago, and things had gone downhill for him ever since. His relationship, his self-esteem—all of it just seemed to be on a downward spiral.

He was in a sour mood. Now what? Where would he go?

An old Beatles song was playing in the background. The words He’s a real nowhere man blared through the restaurant, and he tried hard not to take them personally.

The waitress in her teal uniform brought him his beer and gave him a smile. Suddenly, he felt as if he was in a time warp, as if time had rushed ahead and left him outdated: sitting at Nimby’s in a padded seat in the teal-and-brass interior, listening to music that was decades old, his occupation becoming obsolete. Actually, he assured himself, it was photography that was becoming obsolete, not his occupation. He was in sales. He could sell, and that was a transferrable skill. Too bad no one seemed to be buying much these days.

The food tasted okay, if unexciting, and he ate it quickly. He thought he’d give his friend Cole a call and see if he could put him up for the night.

When Ross paid his bill, leaving a tip he couldn’t afford, he asked the waitress if he could make a local call. She dialled the number for him and handed him the receiver. The phone rang and rang, but there was no answer. Finally, it went to voice mail, and Ross said, Hey, Cole, it’s Ross. I’ll call again. He didn’t feel like giving Cole the details of his situation over voice mail or, he realized, in person either.

Ross went out into the night. Now what was he going to do? The air was crisp and fresh as he walked down the quiet streets, heading away from town. He walked toward his old home to see if he could get in. A wave of anger rolled over him. He and Debbie were going through a rough patch, but he’d been blindsided by this turn of events.

He reached his old yard and opened the back gate. The lights were out. He tried the back door and couldn’t get in. He knew the windows were all secure, since he’d made sure of that when he’d lived there.

He went around to the front and knocked on the front door. There was no answer. No spare key under the mat either. Debbie either wasn’t answering or wasn’t home.

Impulsively, he kicked the step, hurting his toe in the process. He limped back to the alley and, suddenly exhausted, saw the neighbour’s overturned canoe covered with a tarp in the backyard. He crawled under the tarp, pulled his guitar in and fell asleep on the ground using his backpack as a pillow.

CHAPTER 4

Looking for Options

D agmar woke with a start. It took her a couple of seconds to figure out where she was. When she remembered, she got up quickly. The sun was just starting to rise. She guessed it was around 7:00 a.m., and she knew no one who lived in the fourplex would be in the backyard until the afternoon. This time of year, there wasn’t much to do in the garden or greenhouse.

Feeling stiff, she got up and refolded the lawn chair and draped the blanket over it, just the way she’d found it. Then she left the greenhouse, closed the door behind her and walked to the alley behind it.

Phoebe drank only tea, and right now Dagmar needed a cup of coffee. Earlier she’d bought a coffee card at one of the local cafés, so she would be able to use it to get a coffee, sit in the shop and check her email. She quickly walked downtown, and as soon as she entered the bustling shop, she made her way to the washroom. She looked in the mirror, combed her greying brown hair and put on some makeup. An improvement, but her reflection still showed bags under her eyes. She straightened her hat and scarf. Many in Silverdale dressed casually, and she knew she probably wouldn’t stand out. She felt like a criminal avoiding detection.

Once she’d ordered her coffee, she found a table at the back of the café and took out her laptop. She had a sip and welcomed the rush of caffeine through her body. There was lots of spam in her email and nothing important, but her social media had exploded with news about the federal government’s approval of pipelines and tankers in her province.

It was a blow. Much of British Columbia was made up of pristine wilderness that provided habitat to many endangered species of animals and plants. Large amounts of this habitat would be destroyed with the installation of a pipeline, further endangering these species. Enormous oil tankers trying to navigate the treacherous waters between the many coastal islands was a disaster waiting to happen. She knew the Green Team organizers would be calling each other, working out strategies. Dagmar picked the most-informative posts and shared them with her online tribe.

Coffee finished, she put her laptop into her backpack and left the café. The day was clear, and she wanted to find a place to sit and think. She headed down the hill toward the lakeside and strolled along its edge until she found a quiet bank. Dagmar was hungry, so she took out the loaf of bread, the peanut butter and a banana. She had a few utensils in one of the pockets of her backpack and found a knife to cut the banana and spread the peanut butter.

Eating her peanut-butter-and-banana sandwich, looking over the lake at the mountains on the other side, she racked her brain for a strategy. She had a couple hundred dollars in the credit union, but her employment insurance had run out, and she still had no work prospects. What to do? She drew a blank. She looked out at the sailboats on the lake and saw an eagle overhead.

Silverdale had a high unemployment rate, but so did everywhere else in the country. Should she move? This was her home. This small, beautiful community was where she wanted to live. Phoebe might be able to give her some work, but Phoebe was just getting by herself. Dagmar was thankful for the bit work Phoebe had provided—data entry, help with the wording of her website and so on—but suspected that Phoebe couldn’t really afford it and had mostly wanted to help Dagmar out.

Dagmar meditated on the bank for a long time. She was in a state of overwhelm and wanted to relax into a comfortable inner place where she might be able to find a way out of her predicament. Until she’d lost her job and even when she had been collecting employment insurance and doing odd jobs, she’d had an excellent credit rating, paid her bills on time and been a responsible citizen. But it all had evaporated in the past year or so. She didn’t have a frame of reference for her current reality. It had been hard on her physically. She’d lost weight from the stress of not being able to pay her bills, avoiding her landlord and eating the least expensive food she could find. She’d learned wildcrafting and knew how to prepare dandelion greens, lamb’s quarters and other things people considered weeds.

She made herself breathe deeply and tried to relax. After sitting for a long while trying to regain her composure, she headed to the library. In the small downtown core, people were going about their business as usual. There were more empty storefronts lately, although many had been empty for years. Buskers and panhandlers dotted the streets about every half block. Dagmar looked at the people walking, people of all ages, and wondered how they were managing. She probably looked just like one of them.

When she got to the library, she got out her laptop and set it up at one of the tables. After she’d checked her email and social media, she checked out the online job board for her region, and, as usual, there was nothing under the office/administration section. Come on; be positive, she told herself. Really? How many others were telling themselves the same thing? She looked out the window and saw a maple tree blowing in a strong wind, gold and oranges leaves flying off. She felt like one of those leaves. Be positive.

Dagmar put her laptop away and looked through the books about creative employment and how to reinvent oneself. Become a coach? Not likely. Blog for a living? She’d tried blogging but couldn’t figure out how to make money that way. In her mid-fifties, how employable was she?

She left the library and walked up the hill to a park where she had another sandwich and looked at the view of the lake below and the mountains in the distance. The afternoon sun was warm, and that lifted her spirits. She watched some children on the merry-go-round at the playground and wondered what the future would hold for them. She thought of her son, Doug, who was working, going to university, doing well. What would she tell him?

Before she knew it, it was getting close to the time to meet Ross. She looked forward to having someone to talk to who was in a situation similar to hers.

CHAPTER 5

Reconnecting

Hey, Ross, Dagmar called out as she saw him walking up to the Green Team building, his white hair blazing in the sunlight.

Hi, Dagmar, said Ross. He was limping and looked tired.

How are you? she asked.

Been better. You?

Lost. Cold. I don’t know what to do. Other than that, I’m fine. Dagmar smiled. Did you hurt your foot?

Stubbed my toe; that’s all.

Did you hear that the pipeline was approved?

No way! he exclaimed.

They were both grim and silent. Then Dagmar said, It was bound to happen, but it still stings. How was your day?

Ross looked into her eyes intensely but said only, It almost looks like Debbie moved. I’ve been running around in circles all day.

Would you like a peanut-butter-and-banana sandwich? she asked.

Sure, Ross said absently.

Dagmar sat down on the stairs outside the Green Team building, took off her backpack and made them each a sandwich. Ross devoured his, and when she offered him another, he accepted it eagerly.

After they’d eaten their sandwiches, they walked aimlessly down a winding alley between some old houses, some of them boarded up. They chatted about the pipeline, work possibilities and reinventing themselves, and the banter cheered them both up a little. The sun was setting, and it was getting darker and nippier by the moment.

Finally, they stopped behind an old house that was tall and weatherworn and had boarded-up windows. It was beside an empty lot that, judging from the trail going through it, was a frequently used shortcut to the street. Not wanting to walk anymore, Ross leaned against the house, took his guitar out of its case and started playing a gentle melody. The music was comforting to them both.

Suddenly, a door creaked, and they turned around. A young woman peeked out from the old house’s basement door and asked them to come in.

Dagmar and Ross looked up the staircase inside and could see a dim light at the top. As they followed the woman up the steps and headed into the centre of the house, the light became a bit brighter. A kerosene lamp burned on top of a kitchen table. There were chairs around the table, but the rundown room was furnished sparsely. Blankets covered the windows, so from the outside the light couldn’t be seen and the house looked unoccupied.

There was another woman and a man who both looked to be in their early thirties. The other woman was holding a baby.

CHAPTER 6

Hidden Home

W here had Dagmar seen these people before? Maybe the outdoor markets? Or some of the second-hand stores when she’d still had the money to visit them? Maybe she’d seen them at public events or demonstrations.

The woman who’d invited them in introduced herself as Lydia. Welcome. Would you like a cup of chamomile tea? she asked, walking toward a big teapot sitting on an electric stove.

Yes, please! Dagmar said, and Ross nodded in agreement. Lydia poured tea into large, mismatched cups. It warmed their hands while comforting and calming them.

Lydia laughed. We try not to draw attention to this house—that’s partly why I invited you in so quickly. Here. Have a seat, she said, leading them into the living room and gesturing toward a sofa. Dagmar and Ross sat down and sipped their tea, appreciating this unexpected warmth, comfort and kindness. Lydia was thin and wiry. Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and youthful exuberance bubbled from her.

Partly? asked Dagmar. Why else?

Well, Lydia said, when you live the way we do, you pay attention to what’s going on around you. You both go to Green Team meetings—I’ve been to a couple—so I know we’re on the same page in some ways. What a drag about the pipeline being approved, eh?

Sure is! That’s where I’ve seen you before! said Dagmar. You all look familiar to me.

The man walked closer to them, pushing his red curls away from his eyes. Hi, I’m Tam, he said, and this is Cammie and our baby, Bella.

Cammie, with her round face and straight, dark hair, smiled and said hi. She turned her sleepy baby toward them so they could see the girl’s perfect face. Bella had pink cheeks and dark, fuzzy hair and was contentedly snuggled into her mother.

How long have you been living this way? Dagmar asked, intrigued by this living situation.

We’ve lived in this house for the past six months, Cammie replied, but we’ve been squatting in abandoned houses for the past two years or so. There’s so little work in Silverdale, and it makes no sense to have boarded-up houses while there are people who can’t afford rent. So this way of living just kind of evolved for us.

Tam added, We put our skills to use for ourselves and others in the community. Right now our economy isn’t working very well, so we’re doing our best to roll with the times, fill some of the gaps and live the best way we can.

Ross looked a little perplexed. So you, like, just decided to live like this out of the blue?

No, not at all! Lydia guffawed. We tried to make it in the world, but we just couldn’t make ends meet. Times are tough! I was the one who took the first economic nosedive. Eventually, as our money dried up and we ran out of options, we decided to pool our resources and live together. We’ve been friends for years, so that helps.

Tam said, It’s our way of making the best of a hard situation. We know that most people are struggling right now, so we do what we can to get by and to help others in the community—and build relationships based on trust, caring and helping while we’re at it. I guess you could say we’re trying to be the change we want to see.

Cammie came closer to them. How are you doing? We overheard you in the alley saying that you didn’t have anywhere to go. Are you hungry?

Actually, I could use something to eat, said Dagmar. She was quite hungry—and tired of peanut-butter-and-banana sandwiches.

Ross nodded in agreement.

Here, let me warm you up some soup, said Lydia, reaching into the fridge and taking out a jar. This is left over from tonight’s supper. She emptied the contents of the jar into a pot and put it on one of the burners on the stove.

Would you like to sleep here? We have an extra bed, Cammie said.

Dagmar noted that Cammie had said a bed. She felt awkward but realized she wasn’t in a position to be picky. Tears welled up in her eyes. I’m so grateful to you. I don’t know what we’d be doing right now if you hadn’t taken us in like this. Thanks so much for your kindness and hospitality.

Cammie laid a gentle hand on Dagmar’s arm. We’ve all been in the same boat and know what it’s like. Do either of you need a toothbrush?

Ross replied, I could use one.

After they’d finished their soup, Lydia gestured to them. Come down here, and I’ll show you your bed and where you can brush your teeth. We’re pretty frugal with our water, so only use what you need, okay?

The group exchanged good nights, and Ross and Dagmar followed Lydia to a small bathroom and then to an alcove with a double bed with thick blankets and a few flat pillows.

Brushing his teeth before bed felt great to Ross. Something about this simple act made him feel hopeful and human again.

Teeth brushed and bathroom used, they crawled into bed. Dagmar had changed into a nightgown she’d brought, and Ross was wearing his T-shirt and boxers.

Look, Ross said, pointing to a high window. Before they fell asleep, they saw the new moon in a clear sky. They slept deeply.

CHAPTER 7

A New Day

R oss and Dagmar woke up to the sound of unrestrained, hysterical laughter. They lay there for a moment, feeling some discomfort at finding themselves in each other’s arms. They didn’t socialize outside their Green Team meetings, so both felt awkward. They disentangled themselves without comment.

They could smell coffee and fried onions.

I’m hungry, Dagmar said as she wandered toward the smells and sounds coming from the kitchen.

Lydia, Cammie and Tam were watching a cartoon projected from a laptop onto a screen and howling with laughter. Tam had tears streaming down his face, and Lydia was holding her belly as she convulsed with laughter. Cammie, laughing so hard she was snorting, was cuddling baby Bella, who was enjoying all the merriment.

Lydia looked over at Dagmar, took a couple of seconds to compose herself and said, Help yourselves to breakfast. The dishes are in the cupboard to the right of the stove, and the cutlery’s in the drawer below. All the food is vegan and organic by the way.

Overtaken by curiosity, Dagmar took a better look at what they were watching. A cartoon of a thin man dressed in a light purple, skin-tight suit and cape was crawling along the ground, examining something. Tracks? Droppings?

Her hunger got the better of her, and she walked toward the stove. What a spread: tofu scramble, steamed greens, oatmeal with raisins, a jar of canned pears, coffee and a pot of tea. She opened the teapot and gave it a sniff: spearmint.

She sat down on a chair and looked over the group of laughing young people. As she ate her breakfast, she became aware of the fact that she was still in her long flannelette nightgown. It didn’t seem to matter to them or to her. The homey, relaxed atmosphere made it feel natural.

Ross came in dressed, his hair combed. Good morning, he said.

Good morning to you! Dagmar replied. Hungry? The food’s wonderful! The dishes and cutlery are over there, she said, indicating with her fork. It’s vegan and organic.

Ross raised his eyebrows and walked over to the stove. Not exactly bacon and eggs, but it’s better than nothing, he muttered, helping himself to a bowl of oatmeal and some canned pears. He sat beside Dagmar and whispered, What are they laughing about?

Some kind of a cartoon, she whispered back. I’m grateful to be eating breakfast, and you should be too.

They heard another roar of laughter from the other part of the room.

They ate in silence. Dagmar finished first, found a cup and poured herself some coffee. Want a cup of coffee or spearmint tea? she asked Ross.

I could go for a cup of tea.

She sat down beside him, handing him the tea.

Do you have any plans for today? he asked her.

Well, Dagmar said, I want to get in touch with my friend Phoebe—she’ll be worried sick about me. From there, I have no idea. How about you?

Hmm, said Ross, taking a sip of his tea. I need to investigate what’s going on with Debbie. I want to see if we can patch things up.

It looks like they’ve got Wi-Fi here, so I’ll see if it’s all right with them if I check my emails, Dagmar said.

Dagmar walked over to Lydia and asked about checking email.

Sure, Lydia said. The password is ‘healing.’

Dagmar, perplexed, said, I’m curious: How are you able to have Wi-Fi in an abandoned house?

It’s actually our next-door neighbour’s. He’s allowed us to share his signal, and we pay half the monthly cost, said Lydia. "He’s an older gentleman, and we befriended him. One of his