Following My Toes by Laurel Osterkamp Page A

wear a brave face, the fight had taken its toll. Her eyes were puffy and her expression grim. I was tempted to ask what was up, but I figured she would feel self-conscious if she knew I heard them last night.
    “Hey,” she said, walking to meet me in the small kitchen. “Thanks for making coffee. How did you sleep?”
    “I slept fine,” I told her, pouring a cup and handing it to her. “And I made a decision. I want to stay in Minneapolis .”
    Instantly a smile broke onto Carolyn’s face, and I was rewarded by my news cheering her up. “Oh, Faith! That’s great. I think you’re making the right the decision.”
    In case you’re confused, my decision to move had nothing to do with my dream. I had simply come to the conclusion there was no way I could stay in Duluth . I do have a way of just knowing things, and having been in Minneapolis for less than twenty-four hours I already felt like my life was back on track.
    “Me too,” I told her. “But there is one thing. I still need to go up north in July to help my parents with the stuffing convention.” That decision was based on my dream.
    “Okay,” said Carolyn. “That’s no big deal.”
    “Yeah, but you need to come with me.”

 
    Chapter 5
     
    After breakfast I called my landlord in Duluth and the principal of my school to let them know of my decision. I also called my parents to fill them in. All in all I think they took the news fairly well, especially after I told them Carolyn and I would work for free for the entire weekend of the stuffing convention.
    Of all my friends, Carolyn is the only person who actually believes in my psychic abilities. So when I told her that it was very important that we go, she bought it. I didn’t mention the part in my dream when I sensed I needed to save her from dead animals; it didn’t seem necessary. I only described how good I felt in the first part of the dream, and how I had an awareness of urgency to get to her. I felt sure if I could only reach her, then good things would happen to us both. She said, “If it’s that important to you, I’ll go.” I wish everyone were as agreeable as Carolyn.
    Anyway, that day she was off from work. Since I still didn’t have my car, she drove me around so I could do some apartment hunting, as well as check out some potential jobs. It’s all well and good to decide rather impulsively to move to a new city and start a new life, but doing so makes the need for a job and place to live immediately important.
    Our first stop was a little office called “Roommate Referrals.” There I paid a small fee, and filled out a questionnaire about whom I was and what my living habits and preferences were. You know, things like whether or not I’m a smoker, and if I like to stay up late and party, or if I prefer peace, quiet, and the like. I was also supposed to answer questions about whom I wouldn’t want to live with, i.e., do I have any prejudices. I tried to be as open-minded as possible. I said that I was willing to live with the opposite sex, with any given ethnic minority, and alternative life styles weren’t a problem. The only place I drew the line was with transvestites. I couldn’t stand the idea of a guy roommate looking better in a skirt than I do.
    Before I left, the lady entered my questionnaire into the computer, and it spit out a list of people who were both looking for roommates and would supposedly be compatible with me. She also said my number would be handed out to people until I told her I found a place and they closed my file. I vowed to call all the people on the list later that day.
    Then Carolyn drove me to the Minneapolis School District main office, the bureaucratic heart and soul of the dozens of schools throughout the city. Once there, we were told that the list of current job openings was on the second fl oor. Carolyn reached the list first, which was hanging from the wall in a similar fashion to how a phone book in a booth is hung. She started looking