Finding Mitty.

Chapter 11: Red Walt, Blue Walt.

I woke up to the tune of Starman by David Bowie playing on Anna's phone. The song was immensely weird but also unusually lifting in a way because I felt away from reality with it, in a completely different world. I got so high last night I don't even remember when I'd fallen asleep. The sun was just up, sending fresh rays of sunshine through the only window in the room. The room, I now noticed as I looked around, was pretty old with stone walls that were freshly painted with an azure shade. Also there were two different oil paintings on the north and east walls, one of a pair of cold piercing eyes and another of a mountain range I assume were the Himalayas. Finally I turned to my side and Anna's face was right there, inches away from mine, in her usual deep sleep, looking just as unusually lifting as her music and as always, unbearably beautiful. Only now I realized that my hand was holding hers, no wait, hers was holding mine. It almost felt like a part of me now. And there we were, sleeping side by side, only sleeping, which I found more than soothing right now. I didn't know by what miracle she had ended up here with me but I was just glad she did. I traced my finger along my body, to the areas where the pain still lingered. I stopped on my abdomen, just below the chest, and pressed a little. Pain flowed through my brain, and Anna's words last night started coming back.

"You're the first Walter Mitty here, ever." She'd said with such disappointment and pity.

Before I could fully become aware of what those words stood for, I reached for the small bottle at the window. Taking a big gulp of it, I rested myself beside Anna again, and waited for the relaxers to kick in. I turned my head and looked again at Anna's Owly face, and as I kept staring, I slowly fell into a deep, shunning trance.

*******

I opened my eyes again when I was certain I could sleep no more, and took another gulp from the bottle at the window. The ceiling fan squeaked and creaked and performed it's job lousily. I was alone in the room. So I walked to the less than small bathroom and brushed my teeth, took a cold shower and then after sitting alone in the room wondering a while about my next steps, set out to find Anna.

I stepped outside the room and paced down the corridor, which led to a common dining room that consisted of an oblong wooden table, and long backless benches instead of chairs, and on the far end of the bench Anna sat with her legs folded into a pretzel, her face in her hands, staring at a cup placed on her wide open journal.

"Hey, good morning." I greeted hollowly walking up to her and sitting on the bench beside her.

"Hey. It's almost noon. You want some tea?" She replied and asked, barely throwing me a glance.

"British people and tea. Yeah sure, why not?" Dryly I said.

"Walter, it's the only thing they had here." She said handing me the cup she was previously staring into.

"It's half empty." I noticed out loud.

"It's also half full you know." She pointed out out loud.

"Well sorry, I'm not really in the state of being a half full kind of person right now." I replied, tiny bit sardonically.

"Yeah you're right. Who the fuck am I kidding?" She snapped agreeing vexingly.

"Yeah." I said softly and sipped my tea silently.

"You look awfully quiet Walt." She stated.

I realized it was a smokescreen behind which lay the concern, "You just found out your Dad isn't here and we have no other leads and this was all a gigantic goose chase. How are you not freaking out?!" Or something like that I suppose.