Dress Rehearsal Rag

By Emma Lindhagen

Orryn has a room of her own, a part-time job and, for the first time in her adult life, real friends. If not for her sister’s constant attempts to get her to spend time with her newborn nephew and her new roommate William’s unsettlingly pleasant company, she would be quite at peace. When Wardens, officers of the dreaded morality police, arrive in their rural neighborhood for a surprise inspection, the entire group is reminded that their safe haven isn’t as safe as they’d like to believe.

Dress Rehearsal Rag is the sequel to Going Home and continues to tell the story of Orryn and the others’ life at the commune.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Emma Lindhagen
• Release date: Jun 20, 2015
• ISBN: 9789198223538

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Copyright © 2015 by Emma Lindhagen

All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition

Cover photo by Sari Honkonen

Cover design by Dwell Design and Press

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or similar text.

This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real people, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.  All characters and events in this work are figments of the author’s imagination.

Visit my website at www.emmalindhagen.com

Dress Rehearsal Rag

By Emma Lindhagen

The Orryn Novellas #2

A story from the world of The Following

Thank you to my lovely beta readers.

This book is dedicated to Eris, the Greek goddess of chaos, who has been perpetually by my side during the later stages of the production of this book.

Dress Rehearsal Rag

Orryn cringed as she looked in the mirror. The cardigan, knitted in speckled brown merino wool, went down just past her hips. It had a wide sash at the waist and large wooden buttons. The yarn was soft and warm and the model comfortable and, objectively, fairly flattering. She felt like a complete dork in it.

With an exasperated huff she took the thing off and tossed it on the bed, then pulled her grey hoodie over her head. Opening the window, she fished a cigarette out of the pack on the sill and looked out. Her window faced the back of the school house and had a view of the vegetable garden, the chicken coop and the small herbal garden behind Thea and Kella’s canary yellow house. There wasn’t a soul in sight, but she knew that on the other side of the building, the lawn that stood in-between the four houses was bustling with activity. It was early April and the first barbecue of the spring was being set up. The world around the commune was getting greener by the day, all the trees sporting buds or tender leaves, and Orryn was grateful for the higher temperatures which meant she didn’t have to bundle herself up in blankets every time she wanted to have a smoke. Even though she lived alone in her room, and two of her housemates were smokers too, she hated smoking in an enclosed space.

Her hand moved over the windowsill as she watched the landscape, searching for but not finding the lighter that usually sat by the pack. She looked down to confirm it wasn’t there, then frowned and glanced around. Where could it have gone to? Her fingers traced over a spot on her inner arm which didn’t quite sting anymore. Right… she’d dropped it on the floor. She went over to the bed and bent down. Sure enough, there it was.

Returning to her window, she lit a cigarette and looked around the room. Since moving there she had slowly begun to think of the little room as her home in a way that she’d never really thought of a room before. It was a simple room, very different from the quaint guest room in Thea and Kella’s house where she had stayed when she first came to visit, before she had known she was staying longer. The wooden floor was light and worn, the walls were covered in off-white wall-paper and a simple window valance with an abstract pattern covered the top of the single window. The furniture was basic but comfortable, a hodgepodge of things that had been available in the commune but unused. The narrow bed was dressed in white bed linen with black dots on the pillow and comforter. She had bought the bedside table herself with her first paycheck from the grocery store where she had been working for the last few months. A drawing featuring a large cat and something that looked like a cross between a princess and a robot was fastened to the back of her door with tape; little Hannah Rothchild had given it to her one day after school, and the look on her face had been so sweet and expectant that Orryn had felt she had no choice but to tape it up. The blanket that hung over the back of the armchair in the corner had been a present from Thea and Kella, given to her on Almesse Day. The heavy black ashtray that sat next to her on the window sill had been a gift from Mark.

Orryn’s gaze fell on the cardigan on the bed. That, too, had been a gift from Thea. Although it was almost two months since the holiday, she hadn’t worn it once. It was a nice enough garment, but she couldn’t see herself in something knitted. And those earthy, shifting tones? No! At least it wasn’t home-made and had therefore cost her sister money but not time. She still felt a twinge of guilt for not wearing it.

Celebrating Almesse Day at the commune had been a strange experience for Orryn, sweaters notwithstanding. When she was a child, it had been her favourite holiday, the whole family’s favourite holiday. She clearly remembered the deep warmth that filled her when she returned from volunteering with Thea and their father to a house that smelled of food, her presents laid out on her bed. In the years after she left home, the day had been a hollow reminder of what she’d lost, best ignored.

Almesse Day at the commune was a lot like the holidays of her childhood. It seemed as though it was everybody’s favourite, which wasn’t terribly surprising. It was the one holiday when the radio sermons weren’t filled with sin and shame and the importance of the Following, but were instead about love and how acts of kindness can light up the world, like the many candles people lit in their windows. They all celebrated together in the dining hall and took turns sneaking off to leave gifts on each other’s beds. The gifts were less extravagant than those her father had been fond of buying, but the food was even more plentiful and delicious and the laughter rang as merrily through the rooms.

For Orryn, it had been confusing. The evening had filled her with the same deep warmth she’d felt as a child, but she had retired to her room early on Almesse Day with an overwhelming desire to cry. She had given only cheap sweets as presents, but nobody seemed to mind.

With a sigh, she put the cigarette out, closed the window, stuffed the sweater into her chest of drawers and headed outside.

***

On the lawn, Mark was playing soccer with the kids while the other adults prepared the lunch. Little Beccah Rothchild barely got to touch the ball but seemed fairly happy to run around with the others. Kella manned the grill, which didn’t have any food on it yet. Two large white tables had already been carried outside and Miranda Gardener was setting out plates and silverware on them. Her husband Charlie, Joe Rothchild and Danny were dragging matching benches out onto the lawn. As Orryn walked down the steps of the white school house, the door of one of the red houses opened and Sarah Rothchild exited, carrying a large tray of glasses, condiments and two pitchers of lemonade. Behind her, holding a large salad bowl, was William Jones, who had moved to the commune just a couple of months ago. He was an old friend of Danny’s, and had moved into the fourth and last bedroom in the bachelor pad, as the second storey of the large white house, where Danny, Mark and Orryn each had a room and shared a kitchenette, was called. It was strange to Orryn that she was no longer the newcomer in the commune. In some ways she felt as though she still was. William, with his laughing eyes and warm, pleasant voice, seemed much more of a commune person than Orryn.

It felt good, at least, to finally be paying her way around the place. She rarely worked more than twenty hours per week but, compared to when she first became an official resident of the British Governate again, when her money had run out and she had no way of getting any more, it still felt like she was making a fortune. She had spent most of her savings on reclaiming her residency, since her long absence from the Governate had rendered it void. She was glad not to have to depend on the others entirely and to contribute in ways other than by helping with the cooking and playing soccer with the kids.

***

Kella spotted Orryn exiting the school house from her spot by the grill and nodded a hello. Shortly thereafter, just as Kella was adding the first pieces of lamb to the grill, Thea came out of the yellow house. She was carrying baby Kemp in a deep red sling wrap and smile as she headed over to Kella.

All better, she said and leaned up to get a kiss from her beloved. I think he’s about to fall asleep. She had gone inside to feed the boy. Kella smiled, kissing her, and glanced down at Kemp in the wrap.

Looks like it, she said. It was a strange sensation, to look at him. She still couldn’t quite believe he was really there: alive, growing, and theirs. He was almost four months old, but it seemed as though it was only yesterday that he’d been born. Their son. Her son. Maybe not hers by blood but in every way that mattered, she reminded herself, as she had many times before. She kissed Thea again.

Beccah came marching over, dragging her mother along by a very firm grasp around two of her fingers.

Wanna see baby! she announced. At nearly two and a half, she was very pleased to no longer be the baby of the commune and took a great deal of interest in all things regarding Kemp.

You wanna see the baby? Thea said. "All right, but you have to be quiet because he’s about to fall asleep.

Mama, lift! Wanna see. She nodded firmly and Sarah, chuckling, hoisted her up into her arms and held her so that she could peek down into the wrap.

Hello baby… the girl said in an exaggerated