As You Were by Kelli Jae Baeli Page B

music.”
    “So you got two rooms in the house?”
    “We shared one, and I used this one for music. You did your creative stuff out in the workshop.”
    “What creative stuff? What did I do?”
    “Photography, painting, and sculpture.”
    “Really?”
    “Yeah. I’ll show you your stuff if you want.”
    Brit nodded, and Tru headed for the kitchen door, with Brit in tow. “Where are we going?”
    Tru took their jackets from the hook and handed Brit hers. “Out to the workshop.”
    After making their way through the snow to the shed attached to the barn, Tru opened the door and switched on the light. In the center of the room, there was a pottery wheel, and scattered about were the tools and productions of a sculptor’s trade. Busts of famous figures, elongated, dancing women, pottery, and masks, all rendered in clay. “Wow. I did all this?”
    “Yes. You were very talented. Are talented. Maybe if you played around with this stuff, it would come back to you.”
    Brit moved to a bust that graced a pedestal in the corner. “This is you.”
    “Yeah. You did that a few months ago. You’ve sold lots of stuff to galleries and collectors.” She pointed to the other side of the room. “That’s your darkroom. You developed pictures in there.”
    Brit went to the small door and stepped inside. Switching on a light, the room flooded with a hue of indigo, and she quickly browsed the photos papering the walls, the those dangling from a string attached wall-to-wall. There were images of deer, rabbits, snow-covered trees, sunsets, the horses. “Wow. I was good.”
    “Maybe you still are.”
    Brit picked up a 35 millimeter camera. “I don’t know anything about this, now...”
    Tru heard the sadness tingeing her voice. “It’ll come back to you. Don’t worry. It’s too much a part of who you are.”
    Then she turned and saw on another wall, an infinite number of images of Tru; smiling, goofing around, laughing, playing her guitar. And quite a few more of them together. In those, Brittany thought, she looked like she was madly in love with Tru.
    Brit switched off the light. “Can we go in, now?”
    “Sure.”
    Tru locked the shop door, and they trudged inside. Taking off their coats, they hung them up and Tru moved into the living room, picking up her eCig and drawing on it, releasing a cloud of apple vapor.
    “Can I have one of those?” Brittany inquired.
    “How do you know whether you’re a Vaporist or not?”
    “I don’t. But I want one,” she remarked evenly.
    Tru pointed. “You have a few of them in the bottom drawer of the desk.”
    Brit got up and found the black case, pulled out the eCig and took a drag of it. “Nothing is happening.”
    “Oh—” Tru went to the desk and got the bottle of eJuice, refilled the filter in the mouthpiece again. “Your core was dry.”
    Brittany tried again and produced a cloud of vanilla vapor.
    “How’s that?”
    Brittany took another drag, blowing the cloud upward in a quick stream. “It’s good. I like it.”
    “You haven’t had nicotine for a few weeks, it might kick you a little.”
    “Ain’t that a hoot,” Brittany grinned.
    Tru smiled to herself. “You used to say that all the time, too.”
    “I did?”
    Tru nodded, warming her tea in the microwave. “Wonder why you can say things that you used to say, but you can’t remember me?”
    Brittany stared at her, wondering about it, too. “Some questions overpower some answers.”
    “Now, you never said that,” Tru smiled.
    Brittany found her own smile, as well, but carefully concealed it from Tru. “What kind of tea is that?”
    “Ginseng and spice.”
    “Do I like it?”
    Tru laughed. “You used to.”
    “It smells good.”
    “Help yourself,” Tru indicated the microwave.
    Brittany had put the cup of water in the microwave, set the time and started it before she even considered reading the buttons. She leaned down to look through the front glass. “Now how did I know how to work this