Day 6, 10,220 Words: Somehow Still At Toodie-Loo Incorporated

 I passed 10,000 words! This always feels like such a milestone. Also the point at which you realize that you really can go for days without anything happening. Today, Josh spent a lot of time reflecting on past memories. The missing writer is given a name- Danae (pronounced like Danny) Mahoney- and it turns out that she is the love of Josh's life.

It was strange returning to the set of Donnie’s River, like walking into a dream. The faces and places that had been his whole world seemed… smaller somehow, but the familiarity was soothing. It felt good to be back with old friends. It was true what they said though… you could never go home again. You could visit, but it wasn’t your home anymore. He had grown up. And when Lizzy, in what Josh assumed was a fit of nostalgia, brought a bottle of wine and her lopsided grin to his trailer, he wasn’t the least bit tempted. Was it because he hadn’t forgotten the sting of that first heartbreak? Perhaps. It was true, his heart carried a scar with her name on it. Mostly, it was because he was in love with someone else.

               It was her face that rose in his mind now, as he stood, listening to James’s voice and not listening at all, looking into the dark blue eyes of Gordon Toodie, private detective. And it made sense to be thinking of her, didn’t it? She was the one they were here to find. His first client, Danae Mahoney, chief writer for Donnie’s River: Reunion and Donnie’s River: Legacy. First on his client roster, first in his thoughts when he awoke in the morning, first in his heart. A heart that was no longer his at all, not really. It had belonged to her the moment she walked into his office, maybe even before he knew her. Sometimes love was like that- the best kind, in his opinion anyway.

And the use of the word liminality- worth the wait, I think- plus a new character!

“I don’t even know where to start, I have no idea where she is.” Gordon patted his arm.

               “I don’t think that’s strictly true,” he replied with a raised eyebrow, “but in any case, it doesn’t matter. I know exactly where she is,” he said with a certainty that was surprisingly convincing. Neither James nor Josh could hide their surprise, though in fairness, neither one tried.

               “What do you mean? Where is she?”

               “I should think the answer would be obvious, even to you,” he said, seeming to direct this insult to James. “She is in the liminal space,” he said mysteriously. When both Josh and James looked understandably confused, he sighed. “This is all explained in my dissertation! Have you still not read it?” he asked, as though he had expected them to somehow read it during the 20 minutes they had been aware of its existence. He sighed again, but it was clear he was enjoying himself. “During liminal periods of all kinds,” he said, raising a finger didactically, “social hierarchies may be reversed or temporarily dissolved, continuity of tradition may become uncertain, and future outcomes once taken for granted may be thrown into doubt. The dissolution of order during liminality creates a fluid, malleable situation that enables new institutions and customs to become established.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” James asked testily.

“You are quite right, James,” Gordon continued, nonplussed by James’s obvious display or irritation.  “Here we are not talking about the dissolution of the social hierarchy per se, more of a personal rite of passage, as conceptualized by Arnold van Gennep in the 1909 seminal book on liminality, ‘the Rites of Passage.’

There was a moment in silence.

“Yeah, I think you’re going to have to give us a bit more than that,” Josh said.

“Of course, of course. I know what you’re thinking- these concepts are not mutually exclusive and you are quite correct. Each of us must experience liminality in order to shed the confines of the here and now- social transformation requires personal transformation and vice versa. She has entered the second phase, the liminal phase, as I said. Here, she will pass into the spiritual realm- she is betwixt and between where she was and where she is going. This is a dangerous time for her, she is open to many influences- both in the material and spiritual realms. She will need all of her strength and cunning.” Another moment of silence. “And she will need us.”

“What time are we leaving?” A voice asked, causing all three men, who had been in such intense discussion that they had somehow missed the sound of the door opening and closing, even with the obnoxious creaky door sound effect, although to be fair, the Hallowe’en sound effects cd had been playing on a loop since their arrival and it pretty much blended in.

Josh turned reluctantly, a pained expression on his face. Before he saw her face, he knew what he would find, having recognized the voice immediately. “Maeve,” he said, greeting Danae’s daughter.

“Josh,” she replied curtly, and then turned her attention back to Gordon, apparently waiting for an answer to her question.

“Be here at 8 with your bags packed.” He said, then turned toward James. “You will have to provide us with transportation.” James looked put out, but nodded.

“Fine, but I want you to throw in one copy of your dissertation for free!” he said triumphantly, as though he had just driven a hard bargain and come out on the winning end. James had never been as good at Josh at reading people, or perhaps he had never spent much time around academics. Josh had known within seconds of meeting Gordon that we would have paid them to take copies of his dissertation, despite all his affectations. Josh didn’t have a PhD, but he knew something about desperation.