Seeing Colour

by Amber Faucher

  Seeing Colour

  By Amber Faucher

  Copyright © 2020 Amber Faucher

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Cover design by: Amber Faucher

  1

  “Evie, don’tcha think this is a little drastic?” The familiar male voice echoed from the speakers of her laptop. It travelled to her in Edmonton from the shores of sunny Australia.

  The redhead laughed at her counterpart. Darting back into the range of the computer’s camera, she pointed at the man on the screen. She countered his question with the age-old retort, “Drastic times call for drastic measures, Andy.”

  She left to grab another big cardboard box already filled with the meagre belongings of her small apartment. Closing the flaps and securing it with clear packing tape, she took a purple marker and wrote the word ‘BEDROOM’ on its side. A dissatisfied exhale of her internet comrade on the other side of the planet made her glance back at the video screen.

  “Are you seriously colour coding your boxes?” came his incredulous response. Evie paused, stopped to shrug and nod. Her confirmation earned her an exaggerated roll of eyes, as he flicked back beachy-blond waves from his temples.

  “You’re so OCD,” he added as though it had not already been implied.

  “That’s why I’m leaving. I need to break out of this routine-enforced box I’ve made for myself here.”

  The man’s voice began to sound less humouring, as it teetered on the border of exasperation, “By quitting your job to move halfway around the world?”

  “It’s not that drastic . . .” Her explanation trailed off as the pile of geeky knick-knacks she was shorting through absorbed her attention – some she would keep, some would go to her parents, and the rest would be given away.

  “Evangeline,” The Aussie used her full name in a parental tone that grated through the speaker of her laptop.

  Frustrated with having, yet again, to convince someone of the legitimacy of her decision, Evie tossed out her go-to explanation. “I just…I’ve had enough with here! I’ve wanted to travel for a long time, and when this opportunity came along, I couldn’t pass it up. I have nothing to tie me down anymore. Why not?” Hands on her hips, Evie waited for a response. When none came immediately, she looked to the laptop balanced atop one of the closed boxes.

  The Aussie raked another impatient hand through his waves. With a shrug and tense expression, he said, “Don’t try to pass it off like it’s no big deal, Evie. I leave for a surfin’ derby for a couple of weeks, and you’ve done decided to jump ship and skip country on me.” Then his thin lips curled slightly at one corner as his bronzed cheeks pinked, and he admitted, “I’m frankly sore that you aren’t flying south. You know that I’m good for a place to bunk, and I wouldn’t let you go long without work.”

  The redhead had to purse her lips to keep from bursting into a sarcastic smirk that would wound her friend’s pride. “That’s sweet, Andy. And yes, I know that you would be more than willing to help me out if I wanted to strap myself to a board and conquer a few waves. I love what my job and Scotland just so happens to be where I will be doing it for a while.”

  Her friend didn’t seem to want to accept that answer, but his head nodded in a begrudging acquiescence none the less. Evie had many people telling her just what they thought of this sudden plan that would whisk her out of all that is rational, and no opinion meant more to her than that of her best friend.

  “So, tell me again, luv, what it is that makes you think this is a good idea?” he patronized her, propping his chin in one hand. His fingers impatiently drilled the top of the desk that he sat behind.

  Evie smiled and shook her head. She found it hilarious that she was expected to convince him of this decision, even though he was a surf-gypsy that moved from job to job to fund his craving to ride a longboard. As she worked the packing tape across one of the last boxes in the room, she began to methodically move through the process that she had used to think this big decision through. It was the same process that Evie reminded him he should employ in the future when he leaves a job because the boss can’t expend him for the call of the waves. Once she was finished her lecture, she reassured him, “Don’t worry. I already have guaranteed employment with a private optometrist’s office in Edinburgh, I have accommodations within walking distance of everything I’ll need, and if the place proves to be inadequate, I can always find something else.”

  “Yeah, but have you ever met this guy that’s hired your excellent services?” the surfer retorted, cocking a comical brow as he drew up his hands and asked her, “What if he’s totally sketch-a-rific, and you get over there to see that this is all just a big bogus bummer?”

  Evie fixed a glare on the pixelated figure on her laptop screen. She hoped that the look transcended over the net to her counterpart, “Firstly, no one says bummer anymore, and you get an extra high-five for so impressively sliding it back into casual conversation.” She clenched her eyes shut and mimed a high five, along with sound effects, which Andy echoed on the other side of the world.

  Evie lifted another finger, counting as she pointedly explained, “Secondly, I’m not an idiot. I’ve had three telephone interviews for this position, and Mr. Sinclair seems very professional. He’s confident in choosing me as the successful candidate for this position. Thirdly, I applied for a job, not a boyfriend. If he’s not exactly tall, dark, and handsome, I’m pretty sure that I can handle it. He’s my employer and nothing else.”

  “What’s his first name?” Andy demanded, “ I bet it’s something super shady like…Terry, or Larry, or Manny.”

  “Those are just names that end in ‘y,’” Evie scoffed, “which, by the way, includes you, And-y.”

  “See! Super shady, dude,”

  “He’s not shady! Though the name was something I’d never heard of. He said it really fast too…Con-ack, I think.”

  Andy made to make another protest and Evie just cut him off.

  “Doesn’t matter anyway. I’m not expecting this to go off without a hitch. I’m sure there’s going to be a few hiccups in the process—we don’t need to make irrational assumptions about the guy that hired me. This is something that I want to do—that I have wanted to do for a long time—and I’m going to do this for me.”

  Despite the prior laughs, that last little bit hadn’t made it out without a hitch. She could feel the prick of her sinus’ betraying her, the wetness growing on her eyes, as the declaration brought back all the reasons that had pushed her to make this decision. Hearing her friend’s empathetic sigh, she turned away from the screen, conveniently finding the need to gather her hair up into a high ponytail to avoid having him see her cry.

  Evie knew that it was useless to think that the young man in the chat window didn’t know exactly where this desire to flee had come from, but she could keep him from seeing it plainly on her face. She had been hurt one too many times, and this place was getting her nowhere. Men found her boring, too conventional, and desired someone more exciting. She could be exciting—if she wanted. That was how this whole moving to Scotland thing had come about: a text message split from her boyfriend, Brandon.

  Andy had already admitted regretting being away when she had gotten the devastatingly rude heave-ho. More so for missing out on the opportunity to help her out with this momentous decision.

  Traditionally, she would wait to gather all th
e wise counsel she could gain from those around her, whose opinions she trusted, but that was conventional. She needed to break out of that mould. She needed to be daring and exciting. So, when she had come across the international ad for the small little optical dispensary in Edinburgh, she pounced.

  That first step had been exhilarating. It made Evie feel different just clicking that submit button and allowing an employer thousands of miles away to peruse her application. Everything else that had followed had been a whirlwind of elating decisions. When the Scotsman offered her the position two weeks later, she took only fifteen minutes to contemplate the decision. The most tedious part was waiting a whole day to accept the offer to avoid seaming callow.

  The last couple of days, she had battled off the depressing forbearance of her loved one's worries, wanting to hold onto the way her heart had pattered inside of her chest at the thrill of this sudden change. This was proof. She could do it. She could be exciting and different. She could be something other than normal and boring.

  “I’m sorry, Evie,” Andy called her back to face him on the screen. He smiled at her and winked a mischievous eye, uncouthly reminding her, “I’m just jealous, as usual. I ain’t got one ounce of responsibility in these bones here, and so jet-setting is, therefore, a wee bit outta’ my reach.” That made her smile, so she allowed him the victory of seeing it, and he rewarded her with a quiet affirmation. “I’m proud of ya’. You know that. And I’ll still harass you, no matter where you call home.”

  Evie nodded and hid a sniffle behind the hand she raised to push up the black rim of her plastic frame that had snuck a little low on the bridge of her turned-up nose. “Thank you.” She replied when she knew she could say it without a crack in her voice.

  Andy seemed to appreciate that gesture. Then he ruined the perfect mend to the broken conversation by wise-cracking, “Just make sure that if you’re selling all that junk of yours to afford your plane ticket, that you send me all ten seasons of Stargate SG-1 and your autographed Jurassic Park hardcover.”

  Evie threw her head back and laughed, accidentally snorting in the process. That only made her counterpart laugh harder. When she could catch her breath, she pointed at the surfer on the screen, “I’ve already made room in my luggage for those, so no.”

  Their banter continued for another half hour, as she moved from the bedroom to her just as empty living room, showcasing to her comrade just how far the packing had already come along. In one week, she had managed to sell all her furniture and had rid herself of a large selection of her unneeded clothing. All the keepsake type paraphernalia that she owned would be stored at her parent’s farm, and all her dishes, small appliances, and bed linens had been donated to a local church outreach program. She showed him her two bags of luggage, explaining that she was only taking a small portion of her wardrobe, a few momentous, her computer, and her most treasured DVDs and books. Then they signed off with a final farewell, Evie promising to video-chat with Andy as soon as she settled in Edinburgh.

  When the laptop had finally shut down, the apartment took on an eerie quiet that the redhead was unsure she had ever experienced before. Her toes finally registered that the cheap laminate floorboards were chilled, and her body gave a shiver in automatic response to the goosebumps that lit up her arms. With nothing in it, the tiny apartment seemed so different. Evie could feel the tell-tale tickle of fear begin to register at the back of her mind, slowly building in strength, demanding attention.

  Stamping her foot and folding her arms, she told herself, “Nuh-uh,” and squelched the unwanted feeling by plastering a huge smile on her face. This was going to be fun. If she let fear rule her life, it would keep her trapped in this same repeating pattern. If she wanted to change, she had to accept that it wouldn’t come easy and go with the flow.

  Andy switched jobs on a dime, when the waves were just right, without forethought or regret, and she could learn to do the same. At least she had thought things through. At least she had a few things in place.

  This was a turning point for her, a complete one-eighty turn of her helm that would guide her vessel into another ocean of different people, different places, and different experiences. So, she flipped to the music app on her smartphone and allowed the upbeat rhythm of electro-swing to fill the empty space around her. The redhead spent the rest of the evening in her Hello Kitty sweats and a pink tank top, eating Mexican take-out, as she delegated what to do with the few remaining boxes in the apartment. Then she cleaned the empty rooms and, when her mother arrived, she packed the boxes into her parent’s SUV, locking the doors for the last time.

  2

  It would have been a grievous understatement to say that the Edmonton International Airport was busy. It was crammed to capacity with waiting passengers, both anxious and excited, milling about with luggage in tow. Some knew where they were going, fighting around the stalled figures of those that were completely lost.

  Nervously, Evie searched the large overhead screens of flights, scanning through the numbers and names for the plane that would take her away from this place. The plane was on schedule and ready to depart in three hours.

  Evie released an involuntary sigh of relief and felt her stomach do a little flip. As she made her way to check-in, three people rushed in front of her. One of the luggage carts banged roughly against her own, the man not even sparing her a glance. Although Evie such frenzy was expected, she was still annoyed by it. She didn’t want to feel rushed, her stress and anxiety levels were already high.

  As if on cue, her mobile chimed.

  The redhead’s first thought was that she had forgotten something in her mother’s vehicle. Fishing out the phone in a panic, she saw that the message was from Andy.

  A.W. – You’re probably already at the airport, knowing you and your need to be ridiculously early for everything. Just take a deep breath. You got this.

  Evie was calmed by his reassurance and typed back a quick response.

  E.M. – Thx! I will message you when I am there:)

  Half-way through the line-up, Evie had to pee. She would have to hold it, there was no way she was going to let her spot go now that she was uncomfortably squished in on all sides by people. Evie followed a sweet senior couple that shuffled along as best they could and was pushed from behind by a businessman with a cell glued to his ear, shouting at whoever was on the other end.

  When she finally made it to the counter, she had to pay an extra fee for one of her bags that was just over the weight capacity—the scalpers! It was daunting to watch the woman, in her perfectly crisp uniform, struggle to get the large suitcases onto the conveyor belt. As they slid out of view into the belly of the airport’s luggage sorting station, a lump rose unbidden at the back of her throat.

  At security, Evie was reminded of a load of steers crammed into the chute. They were all lowing and jostling for position as they forced ever forward, unable to turn back around. As she neared the austere looking uniformed security guards, Evie felt her fingers twitching with jitters.

  A sharp voice barked a command, making the redhead jump. Propelled into motion, Evie threw her large purse into the plastic screening tub and began to unload what she had on her. Pocket change clattered against the bin’s bottom, along with her smartphone, and her laptop. Her black flats were next, her bare feet meeting with the alarming coolness of the tiled floor. Perhaps socks should have been in order. She went next to shed her hooded sweater to add it to the pile, and she snagged her nail trying to unzip it in her haste.

  The stern female guard rolled her eyes, making Evie’s stomach spin into a tight knot.

  Evie’s focus darted away to the hard-faced man that waved her through the large detector. Sweating now, she hoped he hadn’t noticed her trepidation as she sucked in a breath and passed through. There was a loud mechanical beep and heat flushed her face.

  The guard motioned for Evie to step to the side, where someone else waved her down with a handheld detection wand. It went around the perimeter
of her form and then up and down between her legs. As it passed up her crotch, it began to beep. Evie mentally cursed when the man asked her if she could remove the belt that had been obscured by the hem of her Stargate SG-1 decaled cotton tee.

  Evie nodded her obliged, quickly undoing the seatbelt modelled buckle, slipping the belt off. When she offered it to the guard, he grunted and directed her to raise her arms. She obeyed so quickly that her ankles gave an audible click. Once permitted to leave, she scrambled to gather her things back together and exit the line-up.