This follow-up happened because a guy, (I think: it's a neutral kind of name), called sgnatz, who is a litcrit I've learned to take notice of, gave me a push. I was sure I'd finished with Doug and his talent, but a message came thumping into my inbox... 'Take him five years down the line', it suggested, 'and see how everything's developed.' Sgnatz doesn't say much but he/she gets right to the point. I looked at the e-mail and thought, 'Damn. I should have had that idea.' So I carried on; it turned out that Doug's ability became less important to the plotline, which is why I'm posting it in "novels and novellas" and not "mind control".
I hope I've slipped in enough back-story so that you don't have to have read the first series to enjoy this sequel. On the other hand, if you're a 'Roomers' virgin, it would certainly help to scroll through it quickly. It's hard to appreciate where a story is going unless you know where it's coming from. And you might even enjoy it: though I say it myself, the original 'Roomers' is a pretty good piece of writing. A lot of you thought that too and wrote to say so. Thank you all: it's the only reason for doing it. Ask any author.
Two points: remember to vote and remember I respond to non-anonymous feedback.
*
Outside my big bay window everything was kinda gloomy: Thanksgiving pumpkins sprouting outside people's houses, bright colored umbrellas with cold people huddled under them, but the rest looked real gray. The idiot weather girl on the tube was yapping on about a storm front moving in: like it's something fuckin' unheard of in November. Never understood why TV stations hire total dam' cretins for their newsrooms. I wriggled my toes in the pile of the sheepskin rug. Excellent feeling.
Shit, it's been a while, I guess. I been raking over old memories, how I got to be here, price I paid. Hell, other people paid way more, and there are days I feel kinda glum about that. The way I did it, I mean. But my life is pretty good: no stress to speak of, regular pussy, enough money to live comfortable. Slackers' paradise and then some. Tell the truth, I had the chance to start over, I'd probably do the same. Said right at the beginning I was selfish, remember? I wriggled my toes in the rug again and wondered what to do with the afternoon. A little gym time, light dinner, some reading, maybe thinking about Miss Latest Prospect. Knock at the door: speak of the goddam devil.
'Make my day.' The door opened and a dark curly head peered through the crack. 'Hi, Kirsty, whaddya need?' She sidled in, shy but determined: her standard expression. Third floor back and damn near invisible, but she paid the rent on time, other kids seemed to like her.
Sure was a serious girl though: never met a woman so set on wanting to understand everything. Used to ask me to explain stuff to her once in a while, plain couldn't get the idea that the real world is people, not goddam logic. Point in her favor though, she reminded me some of Ellen. Rang my bells like Christmas at Macey's, tell the truth: two long steps the right side of chunky, firm ripe body that you just knew would run for ever once you got it cranked up and properly lubed, sorta smile said she'd enjoy physical more than you'd think. Top of that, her voice was a goddam dream.
Soft and husky, warm syrup over gravel. Downside, more inhibitions than a nun in a strip joint. I didn't mind that though. I never been one to bolt my food.
'Uh, hi, Doug.' Hesitantly.
'Don't be distant, kid. It ain't as if we're strangers. You wanna beer, glass of wine maybe?' Approachable Doug.
'I don't want to be a trouble....'
'Jeez, girl, you need to relax some. Makes me real uncomfortable seein' you so jumpy and all. Siddown while I get the makings. Spritzer OK?' See? I ain't trying to get you drunk. Diplomatic Doug. I took everything in on a tray, turned the TV off.
'You best mix, seein' as I got no idea how you like it. I'm stayin' with beer.' I watched as she fiddled with bottles and glasses, finally built her drink and leaned back a little.
'Uh, I wanted to ask about having someone stay over.' Well, bummer.
'Found a boyfriend then? Way to go, kid.' Crimson tide, and she took a hasty gulp.
'Oh, no, nothing like that. It's just that my sister wants to come visit, and I was wondering... just for the Thanksgiving weekend, honestly, but I thought I'd ask because it's four whole days and I don't want to upset you and this is such a nice house and I really really like it here and...' She was beginning to gabble and I put a hand up.
'Kirsty, told ya way back: overnighters are fine, long as it don't look like they're movin' in permanent, weekenders are OK once in a while, it's a guy from outa town for instance, sisters at Thanksgiving always welcome. But hell, girl, holidays an' all: how come you're stayin' here?' Her eyes dropped.
'Uh, Mom and Dad are having some issues, and I don't want to go be caught in the middle and poor Tanya needs a break so I told her...' I raised my hand again. Her folks weren't my problem, thank God.
'Well, hell, girl, tell your sister to carry on packin' and make sure she says 'Hi'. She's anything like you, she's gonna be a knockout.' More blushes.
'We're not alike at all really. Tanya's like my mom, but I take after Dad more, I guess.'