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Beware of the fangirl...The diary of a Gaian.
This is the diary of Dawna Celeste, just another ordinary Gaian...or is she?
Alone.
Cindy was in a tizzy when she got back from work yesterday, talking on her cell phone as she jumped out of the car, waved to me where I was sitting in the big chestnut tree in front of the house, threw a ball at Lady Luck, who sat under the tree, and ran inside. I didn't find out what was up untill later, as we washed the dinner dishes.
"Do you think you could stay out here on your own for a day or so?" she asked, her sleeves rolled up and her hands busy scrubbing.
"Um...yeah, but why?" I asked back, drying the dishes she'd already washed.
"Well...I have to go on a bit of a trip," she said. "I won't be gone very long..."
"Where are you going?" I asked with interest.
Cindy grinned as she handed me a large pot which had conained beans and soy hot dogs. "Your hometown."
That didn't help much! "I could probably count every city in Gaia as my hometown some way or other," I said rather crossly. "Which one?"
"Aekea," she said with an even bigger grin.
"AEKEA?!?" I dropped the pot with a crash. "What are you doing there?"
"My job. Investigative reporting."
"What are you going to investigate there?" I picked up the pot. "Ohmygosh... Cindy, you are not going to go after the Sniper!"
"In Aekea?" She laughed. "You've got the wrong place. I'm just dealing with those car crashes, to see if I can clear the station of them. Besides, I'm going undercover. Could you help me with the disguise? You know Aekea..."
"You'll have to be a factory owner, they're the only ones who know anything there," I said, thinking quickly. "I could be your secretary..."
"Nope, I'm going alone," she said as she handed me the last of the silverwear. "My front is that I'm our little Sniper wannabe's social worker, and I couldn't make an excuse for you being there."
"The girl?" I dried the silverwear without thinking of it. "Is she alive?"
"She was when she escaped from Aekea Hospital," Cindy said grimly. "I was on the phone with them, playing her social worker, and they said she'd probably be alright...if she didn't run into trouble in the city. She dosn't really have a social worker, but they don't know that in Aekea, and it gives me a good way to get information about the crash. I hope I'll be able to find her, not that it'll do the case much good...I don't think she can talk. But I'm worried about her... Will you help me get dressed up?"
Cindy's room was the same size as mine, but much more cluttered. As well as the bed, dresser, and chair, it contained a large desk with her laptop and a radio on it and a very big wardrobe, which was very full. My eyes popped when I saw the seven "newscaster" outfits hanging neatly in a row. The rest was filled with clothes of all shapes, sizes and colors...everything from a jeans, to a top hat, to what looked like a magic wand. A small shelf was taken up by wigs. "I do a lot of undercover work," Cindy explained sheepishly.
For this role, only a few of these would do. Cindy would have to look a bit plain, but very un-Aekean, and preferably rich, if people were to respect her. It took a lot of rummaging, and the closet was nearly empty, and the floor covered with discarded clothing, when I rejected a plain jeans-and-sweater outfit in favour of a fancier one of white layered shirts, a green skirt over light brown leggings, and green shoes. We decided against a wig, as it might be uncomfortable, and instead Cindy wrapped a gold scarf around her head. Then she set to work with her TV makeup, and when she had finished, she could easily pass for a rapidly aging, rather frumpy older woman in thick pancake makeup. The perfect social worker! Even her glasses and eyes didn't give her away at all. Laughing, she swiched on the radio, grabbed me, and started dancing around the piles of clothes. We had danced through a song and a half when a new song came on and a slinky female voice sang from the radio, "I'm a private dancer, a dancer for money, I do what you want me to do..." I started to sing along, but Cindy stopped dancing so fast that I tripped, stepped backwards onto a shoe, and fell down, pulling her down too.
"I'm a private dancer, a dancer for money, and any old music will do..." the radio sang on. I laughed and tried to disentangle myself from Cindy's scarf, which had come untied, but she swore, ripped the scarf off, and jumped to her feet. In two leaping strides she had reached the radio, turned it off, and flung it into the closet. I stopped laughing. She was clearly furious. The last time I'd seen her like that was when Lady Luck had turned up the volume on the car radio. It had been the same song... "What's the matter, Cindy?" I asked timidly from the floor.
Instead of answering, Cindy walked over to the window, opened it, and took a deep breath of fresh air. "It's past our bedtime, sweetie. I've got to get started early tomorrow to catch the train to Aekea. How about we clear up these clothes and head for bed?"
"You don't like that song?" I asked as we put away the clothes.
She was quiet so long I thought she wouldn't answer. Finally she said, "I hate it. If people knew..." She stopped, turned a bit pink beneath her makeup, and said loudly, "Bedtime for both of us!"
She left very early this morning, leaving me here. I'm not afraid, since the house is full of food and I know I can get to Barton on foot if need be, but I wish I knew why she hates that song so much. What she said...no. That's crazy, and I shouldn't even think that of her. I refuse to worry about a stupid song! I have enough to worry about already! I'm off to take a swim...I'll feel better with my gills open for a bit.





 
 
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