Got another phone call yesterday, though not from the original Elizabeth Lee. It was a co-worker of hers, Zoe something-or-other, wanting to know where "I" was. Apparently she'd covered for Liz missing a few days of work after her vacation ended, but the home office had started to ask questions on Thursday, and if Liz didn't show up for work Monday evening, she'd be fired.
I thanked her, and then sat down to figure out what to do. There's got to be a way to make things right, but in the meantime, well, I've got to do something, right? And if we do figure out how to reverse this curse or spell or whatever we're under, I probably shouldn't mess Liz's life up any more than I'd want the next guy using this room to mess up mine. So, for now, at least, I guess I'll be heading south to Boston and playing at running a movie theater for a while.
Who knows, maybe it'll be a nifty learning experience, and when we manage to undo what this house has done to our bodies, I'll have some new experiences to draw upon for that novel I've always been meaning to write. It might be good for me, right - I've been writing freelance ever since I got out of college, so a lot of my "real-world" experiences are sort of second-hand. It might be useful for my future development to actually do something rather than just research it.
There's a two o'clock train to Boston; if I'm reading Google maps right, I should have just enough time to drop all this luggage off at Elizabeth's apartment before her shift starts at 5:30. I told Jake and Vinny about it, since their new lives appear to be in that area too, but I don't know whether they'll take the same train. They may want to stick around until our reservations are up, see if they can learn anything about the inn or just get used to their new shapes before immersing themselves in new lives. I mean, heck, the remnants of Ernesto seem to be spent, so it's nice out again. Ashlyn and Sarah must have packed bikinis, and it would almost be a shame for them not to at least try that experience, right?
Not that I'd be caught dead walking around in a two-piece swimsuit; I'd just love to see them in one.
So, right now, I'm working on my letter to "the new Arthur". It's strange to write. On the one hand, it feels like the idea of laying out your whole life for someone should be daunting; I've worked with people on biographies, and there's just so many details. But when I sit down to write it, I feel like there isn't really much to my life. My mom died last year, I haven't heard from my dad in years. I've got friends, sure, but I don't have a lot of things that could trip someone up. I don't even have a nine-to-five job; I just take what assignments I can get, so that's transitory. I really want this letter to be longer than it is.
After that, I've got to pack up twice, since I've been wearing Liz's clothes the last few days (though I bought new panties - this is still my body, and I'm not wearing someone else's underwear). I'm trying to think if there's anything of mine I want to keep. My lucky A's cap, I guess, and I bought a flash drive at the camera shop so I could bring some of the contents of my laptop's hard disc with me. But that's it, I guess.
So, time to go to Boston and cover Liz's shift. Hopefully not for too long.