Knocking on the Door (CA - Robin & Uno)
Quote from Indy on April 17, 2019, 9:40 pmAs she’d packed up the belongings scattered throughout the hotel room, Uno loitered by the door. His weight was shifted against the doorframe, his head dipped into his chest, and his head at a profile to the small room, the eyepatch side facing Robin. He gave the impression of a man well at ease. And it was just that: an impression. He was a man on vigilant watch, from the smallest stir of litter across the parking lot to the flutter of bird wings, all dutifully noted by the umber eye that stared out across the parking lot. And he did all of this in the kind of slouched, casual posture a hypothetical bystander wouldn’t look twice at.
It was a shame he hadn’t been paying better attention to what Robin was doing. He might not have flinched so badly otherwise. Yet, nonetheless taking it in stride, he nodded after she'd spoken, took the case from her hands, and held open the door for her.
After walking across the parking lot, he hastily tossed the belongings to the back of a sad, white sedan that had known better decades. His fingers held firmly to the key, stuck it into the ignition, and sent the car into a throaty purr. The cabin was chilly, yet the engine made many promising noises that suggested the heater may be working soon. He tilted his head to see Robin’s progress.
"Breakfast first," he called from the opened door, "Then Chapman. Then the rest".
As she’d packed up the belongings scattered throughout the hotel room, Uno loitered by the door. His weight was shifted against the doorframe, his head dipped into his chest, and his head at a profile to the small room, the eyepatch side facing Robin. He gave the impression of a man well at ease. And it was just that: an impression. He was a man on vigilant watch, from the smallest stir of litter across the parking lot to the flutter of bird wings, all dutifully noted by the umber eye that stared out across the parking lot. And he did all of this in the kind of slouched, casual posture a hypothetical bystander wouldn’t look twice at.
It was a shame he hadn’t been paying better attention to what Robin was doing. He might not have flinched so badly otherwise. Yet, nonetheless taking it in stride, he nodded after she'd spoken, took the case from her hands, and held open the door for her.
After walking across the parking lot, he hastily tossed the belongings to the back of a sad, white sedan that had known better decades. His fingers held firmly to the key, stuck it into the ignition, and sent the car into a throaty purr. The cabin was chilly, yet the engine made many promising noises that suggested the heater may be working soon. He tilted his head to see Robin’s progress.
"Breakfast first," he called from the opened door, "Then Chapman. Then the rest".
Quote from Indy on May 20, 2019, 8:00 pmLife had a funny tendency of happening out of order. Birth, growing up through through a gangly awkward adolescence, awkward dances and pizza, a tedious 9-5, maybe getting married, traveling a little after retirement, then death — that had been his expectation of it all long ago. But after he’d done his dying first, and his living after, he’d stopped having strong expectations. Stopped giving the universe an excuse to defy him, no matter how simple.
Breakfast. Chapman. Then the rest. It had had seemed a simple, manageable order, one that not even the universe would dare taunt. It had seemed beyond simple… and if only he could have had a coffeecup in hand before it all went awry, he might have had the good nature to chuckle.
But his first mistake in that sequence had been one word — Chapman. Chapman waited for no order. He blinked, slowly, as a new kind of exhaustion settled into his bones.
Life had a funny tendency of happening out of order. Birth, growing up through through a gangly awkward adolescence, awkward dances and pizza, a tedious 9-5, maybe getting married, traveling a little after retirement, then death — that had been his expectation of it all long ago. But after he’d done his dying first, and his living after, he’d stopped having strong expectations. Stopped giving the universe an excuse to defy him, no matter how simple.
Breakfast. Chapman. Then the rest. It had had seemed a simple, manageable order, one that not even the universe would dare taunt. It had seemed beyond simple… and if only he could have had a coffeecup in hand before it all went awry, he might have had the good nature to chuckle.
But his first mistake in that sequence had been one word — Chapman. Chapman waited for no order. He blinked, slowly, as a new kind of exhaustion settled into his bones.
Quote from Adriana on May 20, 2019, 9:03 pm"We'll start here," he had reassured them. They could have just met at a cafe and been done, but Chapman wouldn't have it.
He took a look over their tired, worn demeanors and within the hour, they were seated on his living room couch. Mrs. Chapman was getting them clean clothes, Bob was setting out hot coffee, bacon and eggs on the coffee table in front of them, and he took a seat in a chair opposite their couch.
"You don't need me to tell you, you two look really rough." he said, running his hand over his stubbled chin, before resting it on his knee.
"Let's cut right to the chase... what are you doing and why?" his blue eyes were serious, and had seen years of use; sadness, anger, joy, pain, merriment, wisdom. Life in general. They watched somberly as Robin picked up the coffee and cradled it in her hands...
---- ---- ----
I kept the coffee mug close to my face, enjoying the aroma long before I took my first sip. When I did, I felt it warm me from the inside out, and I was compelled to relax the tension in my shoulders and meet Chapman's eyes. But I didn't know how exactly to answer his question... I looked to Uno and waited.
"We'll start here," he had reassured them. They could have just met at a cafe and been done, but Chapman wouldn't have it.
He took a look over their tired, worn demeanors and within the hour, they were seated on his living room couch. Mrs. Chapman was getting them clean clothes, Bob was setting out hot coffee, bacon and eggs on the coffee table in front of them, and he took a seat in a chair opposite their couch.
"You don't need me to tell you, you two look really rough." he said, running his hand over his stubbled chin, before resting it on his knee.
"Let's cut right to the chase... what are you doing and why?" his blue eyes were serious, and had seen years of use; sadness, anger, joy, pain, merriment, wisdom. Life in general. They watched somberly as Robin picked up the coffee and cradled it in her hands...
---- ---- ----
I kept the coffee mug close to my face, enjoying the aroma long before I took my first sip. When I did, I felt it warm me from the inside out, and I was compelled to relax the tension in my shoulders and meet Chapman's eyes. But I didn't know how exactly to answer his question... I looked to Uno and waited.
Quote from Indy on May 20, 2019, 9:17 pmUno felt like a fish that had been plunked out of it’s fishbowl and set down in a comfortable living room and served a hot breakfast. He wasn’t drowning exactly, but he still felt an out-of-placeless that pressed around him in all directions. He knew the Chapman house as well as any house he’d known, but houses were strange things. Permanent things. He could never decide how he felt about them.
At least the coffee was familiar. It was hot, warm, and bitter. He didn’t put any milk or sugar in it, and instead held it firmly in his palms and took an occasional sip. He amused himself with the new illustration on the Chapmans’ monthly calendar, regarded the fallen leaves swirling outside the front window, and finally contemplated if the color of Chapman’s eyes had changed because of the lighting or because of his mood.
He took a steadying sip. As he set the coffeecup down he replied bluntly, "Darius is dead"
His lips ran into a tight line, watching Chapman’s expression cautiously. He reached for his coffeecup again, but his hands failed him, so he kept them firmly grasped on the table, "Thanks to the Svalnglas… and we need to know why"
Uno felt like a fish that had been plunked out of it’s fishbowl and set down in a comfortable living room and served a hot breakfast. He wasn’t drowning exactly, but he still felt an out-of-placeless that pressed around him in all directions. He knew the Chapman house as well as any house he’d known, but houses were strange things. Permanent things. He could never decide how he felt about them.
At least the coffee was familiar. It was hot, warm, and bitter. He didn’t put any milk or sugar in it, and instead held it firmly in his palms and took an occasional sip. He amused himself with the new illustration on the Chapmans’ monthly calendar, regarded the fallen leaves swirling outside the front window, and finally contemplated if the color of Chapman’s eyes had changed because of the lighting or because of his mood.
He took a steadying sip. As he set the coffeecup down he replied bluntly, "Darius is dead"
His lips ran into a tight line, watching Chapman’s expression cautiously. He reached for his coffeecup again, but his hands failed him, so he kept them firmly grasped on the table, "Thanks to the Svalnglas… and we need to know why"
Quote from Adriana on May 22, 2019, 11:31 amChapman leaned back.
"Why?" he asked. "I'm not sure why you're asking me that." he responded evenly. Not with any condescending, but true curiosity.
"You both know better than anyone-Darius was dangerous, malicious and arrogant. When he escaped our reach all those years back we thought he'd up and left town. Chances are he's been in hiding and his actions finally caught up to him." he popped his knuckles. "I don't know anything more about the Svalnaglas than what I've been told by other people-and that's more than I want to know. I know they're tough, and I know someone like Darius would merit trouble for them if he encroached on their turf."
His eyes moved from Uno to Robin again, who'd been quiet so far.
"My next question is... how do you know it was the Svalnaglas who took him out?"
--- --- ---
I hadn't been looking anywhere in specific. Kind of looking through Chapman, as you do- my thoughts were drifting somewhere else, and I had vaguely heard his question until he said my name, and asked again-"How do you know?"
I wanted to tell him everything. Chapman was an anchoring point in our lives. He'd helped us before. He felt safe in a fatherly way-someone you could trust, with enough clout he may be able to offer some safeguard again our enemies. But I couldn't find my voice-I didn't want to put his family at anymore risk than we had by our previous encounters with him. I felt like I was being watched, like someone else would hear. Instead I lowered my eyes and looked back to my coffee.
--- --- ---
Chapman let out a long sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, standing.
"I understand, and can extrapolate well enough. I don't know what to tell you-I know it's complicated, and frustrating.. but you two have been at the cusp of something big for a long time. You can't keep skirting things like you are or you're going to slip and fall in. You're lucky they didn't force you to join them or kill you, but that may mean you're more useful to them on the streets. You never know when these things will catch up to you, though, or when your usefulness will run out."
He went to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee, still talking. The kitchen had an open bar and he could still be heard.
"In my opinion you can do one of two things..."
"You can move, and I can help you join a witness protection program-I have one in another state, that caters to our group of people. I could pull some strings. Then you'd have to give up what you have, start all over, but you'd have a house, security and lives."
He came back into the living room, but didn't sit right away.
"Alternatively, and hear me out.... you could go to that young Alpha in Phantom Mountain, outside of Reknab Bend. I know it's not ideal... but he may be able to arrange letting you live in the town. You may be useful to him, as well; as far as I can tell, the townspeople have been stirring as of late, and maybe you could curb that somehow. Thoughts?"
--- --- ---
I wanted to hear what Uno would say. It's not that I didn't have my opinions-I had plenty of them. And in my heart, I knew what I wanted, even if it wasn't the right choice. I turned my eyes expectantly on Val to hear his answer.
Chapman leaned back.
"Why?" he asked. "I'm not sure why you're asking me that." he responded evenly. Not with any condescending, but true curiosity.
"You both know better than anyone-Darius was dangerous, malicious and arrogant. When he escaped our reach all those years back we thought he'd up and left town. Chances are he's been in hiding and his actions finally caught up to him." he popped his knuckles. "I don't know anything more about the Svalnaglas than what I've been told by other people-and that's more than I want to know. I know they're tough, and I know someone like Darius would merit trouble for them if he encroached on their turf."
His eyes moved from Uno to Robin again, who'd been quiet so far.
"My next question is... how do you know it was the Svalnaglas who took him out?"
--- --- ---
I hadn't been looking anywhere in specific. Kind of looking through Chapman, as you do- my thoughts were drifting somewhere else, and I had vaguely heard his question until he said my name, and asked again-"How do you know?"
I wanted to tell him everything. Chapman was an anchoring point in our lives. He'd helped us before. He felt safe in a fatherly way-someone you could trust, with enough clout he may be able to offer some safeguard again our enemies. But I couldn't find my voice-I didn't want to put his family at anymore risk than we had by our previous encounters with him. I felt like I was being watched, like someone else would hear. Instead I lowered my eyes and looked back to my coffee.
--- --- ---
Chapman let out a long sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, standing.
"I understand, and can extrapolate well enough. I don't know what to tell you-I know it's complicated, and frustrating.. but you two have been at the cusp of something big for a long time. You can't keep skirting things like you are or you're going to slip and fall in. You're lucky they didn't force you to join them or kill you, but that may mean you're more useful to them on the streets. You never know when these things will catch up to you, though, or when your usefulness will run out."
He went to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee, still talking. The kitchen had an open bar and he could still be heard.
"In my opinion you can do one of two things..."
"You can move, and I can help you join a witness protection program-I have one in another state, that caters to our group of people. I could pull some strings. Then you'd have to give up what you have, start all over, but you'd have a house, security and lives."
He came back into the living room, but didn't sit right away.
"Alternatively, and hear me out.... you could go to that young Alpha in Phantom Mountain, outside of Reknab Bend. I know it's not ideal... but he may be able to arrange letting you live in the town. You may be useful to him, as well; as far as I can tell, the townspeople have been stirring as of late, and maybe you could curb that somehow. Thoughts?"
--- --- ---
I wanted to hear what Uno would say. It's not that I didn't have my opinions-I had plenty of them. And in my heart, I knew what I wanted, even if it wasn't the right choice. I turned my eyes expectantly on Val to hear his answer.
Quote from Indy on May 22, 2019, 5:24 pmUno watched Chapman’s lips form words until the words ran out. He kept his hands on the edge of the coffee table until he felt he could trust them again and held the white, chipped coffee mug, still hot, in his palms. He closed his single eye a moment, allowing the heat to wash over him. For an instant he almost forgot where he was and the night before. But then he remembered and guiltily, felt his single eye tugging towards Robin. He didn’t know what he meant to do — reassure her, reassure himself, or merely to make sense of her thoughts. But he couldn’t dare himself to do it, not knowing what to expect of himself or her if he did, and just as guiltily he kept his glance away from hers.
At last, he took another sip of the black coffee.
"No," the word slipped out unexpectantly, though there was no doubt in it.
"Running… is all we’ve ever done. We’re not doing that".
He sighed, exhaling over the steamy vapors on his head, "Maybe I’m a fool to say it. And I wouldn’t be where I am if I’d known when to cut bait but…" he shrugged, "It’s my nature. We’re not going to leave a man to the wolves".
"The alpha is an interesting thought, but not the right move. Not yet anyways"
A pause, not unlike the first, but this leaden with something unspoken. Something that didn’t want to be spoken.
"Chapman… I know…" he shrugged away a tiny shake in his shoulders, cleared his throat, and repeated it, "I know you would never do anything against your morals, and your family comes first in all of this… we’re not asking for any of that. But I’m afraid there's only one man that might have a guess on the answers we need and…"
He shrugged a little helplessly. Instinct was to turn away from Chapman, but with some resolve, he managed to keep his sight level to Chapman’s, the dark umber of his eye imploring the deep blue of his.
His voice came out small, almost a whisper, "…and I don’t think I could talk to him without you…"
Uno watched Chapman’s lips form words until the words ran out. He kept his hands on the edge of the coffee table until he felt he could trust them again and held the white, chipped coffee mug, still hot, in his palms. He closed his single eye a moment, allowing the heat to wash over him. For an instant he almost forgot where he was and the night before. But then he remembered and guiltily, felt his single eye tugging towards Robin. He didn’t know what he meant to do — reassure her, reassure himself, or merely to make sense of her thoughts. But he couldn’t dare himself to do it, not knowing what to expect of himself or her if he did, and just as guiltily he kept his glance away from hers.
At last, he took another sip of the black coffee.
"No," the word slipped out unexpectantly, though there was no doubt in it.
"Running… is all we’ve ever done. We’re not doing that".
He sighed, exhaling over the steamy vapors on his head, "Maybe I’m a fool to say it. And I wouldn’t be where I am if I’d known when to cut bait but…" he shrugged, "It’s my nature. We’re not going to leave a man to the wolves".
"The alpha is an interesting thought, but not the right move. Not yet anyways"
A pause, not unlike the first, but this leaden with something unspoken. Something that didn’t want to be spoken.
"Chapman… I know…" he shrugged away a tiny shake in his shoulders, cleared his throat, and repeated it, "I know you would never do anything against your morals, and your family comes first in all of this… we’re not asking for any of that. But I’m afraid there's only one man that might have a guess on the answers we need and…"
He shrugged a little helplessly. Instinct was to turn away from Chapman, but with some resolve, he managed to keep his sight level to Chapman’s, the dark umber of his eye imploring the deep blue of his.
His voice came out small, almost a whisper, "…and I don’t think I could talk to him without you…"
Quote from Indy on August 31, 2019, 1:32 pm(Dez)
Chapman looked hesitant. That wasn't quite the word, though. Pensive didn't do much except maybe skim the surface. He was too old and too wise for hesitant or pensive; he knew where he stood, what he would ultimately end up doing, and why he would do it.
After a long time-a very long time, of letting nothing but the silence fill the air, he exhaled deeply and spoke again.
"I'll go with you." he said finally.
(Dez)
Chapman looked hesitant. That wasn't quite the word, though. Pensive didn't do much except maybe skim the surface. He was too old and too wise for hesitant or pensive; he knew where he stood, what he would ultimately end up doing, and why he would do it.
After a long time-a very long time, of letting nothing but the silence fill the air, he exhaled deeply and spoke again.
"I'll go with you." he said finally.
Quote from Indy on August 31, 2019, 11:58 pmUno exhaled, and it was as if half his weight went with it. He nodded and set down the now-drained coffee cup. Still, he hesitated at the threshold. It was strange; he had felt so out of place in the Chapman’s home initially, but now that he was going to leave it, he found himself missing it. Or perhaps, preferring it to the alternative. Then he shut the door softly behind and let his long stride overtake Chapman’s so he could start up the car.
—
They drove a long time. The phantom mountains slipped beside them. Though never forgotten, they morphed from giants into toddler’s toys. New hills and mountains rose up to meet them. The forest turned to a wide, open, grassy expanse. The sky had become an even blue, and the previous night’s clouds burned and slid away under the daylight. In the air, sometimes there was a low hum, the dying song of cicadas, fewer and farther between than before as autumn marched closer.
When they had finally stopped, the sky was a deep ,rich blue and the sun hovered almost straight ahead. The car was parked in a gravel pad, at the end of a long dirt road. The grasses twirled in the soft breeze. A lone dragonfly flitted about. And there were houses. Dozens upon dozens of houses, nestled so naturally in the open field that it was as though they had been there for centuries. Though, the construction was new, and each built more or less the same: they were only a story high, constructed of logs, possessed no garage, and save for a lone dirt path that led them to the road, were entirely isolated in the ocean of green.
Only one stood apart from the others, and that was only because it was larger and fatter. Perched on the front was a wooden sign, beaconing in it’s wayward visitors: “MOUNTAIN ORCHARD VETERANS ASSISTED LIVING FACILITY, RECEPTION AND RECREATION”; and in smaller print, continued: “PLEASE CHECK IN WITH RECEPTION FIRST IN RESPECT TO OUR OCCUPANTS PRIVACY”
Uno turned the ignition and the engine shut off. Then his brain did, still processing the final sign as if it had been an alien language.
Uno exhaled, and it was as if half his weight went with it. He nodded and set down the now-drained coffee cup. Still, he hesitated at the threshold. It was strange; he had felt so out of place in the Chapman’s home initially, but now that he was going to leave it, he found himself missing it. Or perhaps, preferring it to the alternative. Then he shut the door softly behind and let his long stride overtake Chapman’s so he could start up the car.
—
They drove a long time. The phantom mountains slipped beside them. Though never forgotten, they morphed from giants into toddler’s toys. New hills and mountains rose up to meet them. The forest turned to a wide, open, grassy expanse. The sky had become an even blue, and the previous night’s clouds burned and slid away under the daylight. In the air, sometimes there was a low hum, the dying song of cicadas, fewer and farther between than before as autumn marched closer.
When they had finally stopped, the sky was a deep ,rich blue and the sun hovered almost straight ahead. The car was parked in a gravel pad, at the end of a long dirt road. The grasses twirled in the soft breeze. A lone dragonfly flitted about. And there were houses. Dozens upon dozens of houses, nestled so naturally in the open field that it was as though they had been there for centuries. Though, the construction was new, and each built more or less the same: they were only a story high, constructed of logs, possessed no garage, and save for a lone dirt path that led them to the road, were entirely isolated in the ocean of green.
Only one stood apart from the others, and that was only because it was larger and fatter. Perched on the front was a wooden sign, beaconing in it’s wayward visitors: “MOUNTAIN ORCHARD VETERANS ASSISTED LIVING FACILITY, RECEPTION AND RECREATION”; and in smaller print, continued: “PLEASE CHECK IN WITH RECEPTION FIRST IN RESPECT TO OUR OCCUPANTS PRIVACY”
Uno turned the ignition and the engine shut off. Then his brain did, still processing the final sign as if it had been an alien language.
Quote from Indy on November 12, 2019, 10:46 pmIt was something about those words. Something about ‘PLEASE CHECK IN WITH THE RECEPTIONIST FIRST IN RESPECT TO OUR OCCUPANTS PRIVACY’. Something in imagining himself exiting the car, marching to the receptionists office through the wavy green sea, and asking if he might see a Mr. Steele. Then the receptionist might ask him what his name was, and what his relation was to the resident… and he didn’t know what he’d say.
He could feel his arms clenching the steering wheel, not wanting to let go. He wanted to look to Robin or Chapman, as if for reassurance, but he didn’t know what he was looking for. Instead, he kept his gaze straight ahead, distantly wishing he could have a cup of coffee to hold again.
… Somewhere in one of those little cabins in the green sea, sat an old man with steel grey eyes and a withered face. Perhaps kindly little personal affects littered his room, seasonal decorations that the staff put up for all the residents. Maybe one of the elderly women came to visit Steele sometimes, and left him letters of her affection; maybe he even returned them, on occasion. Or maybe…
He pushed the key back into the ignition, exhaling shakily.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, shaking his head as the car purred back to life. He offered a withered chuckle, “Here I dragged us, knocking on the door, but I don’t think I can walk through it. Not yet”.
He glanced to the baby blues of the sky, considering what a lovely day had unfolded from the storm, “Let’s go home. Coffee’s on me”.
((closed))
It was something about those words. Something about ‘PLEASE CHECK IN WITH THE RECEPTIONIST FIRST IN RESPECT TO OUR OCCUPANTS PRIVACY’. Something in imagining himself exiting the car, marching to the receptionists office through the wavy green sea, and asking if he might see a Mr. Steele. Then the receptionist might ask him what his name was, and what his relation was to the resident… and he didn’t know what he’d say.
He could feel his arms clenching the steering wheel, not wanting to let go. He wanted to look to Robin or Chapman, as if for reassurance, but he didn’t know what he was looking for. Instead, he kept his gaze straight ahead, distantly wishing he could have a cup of coffee to hold again.
… Somewhere in one of those little cabins in the green sea, sat an old man with steel grey eyes and a withered face. Perhaps kindly little personal affects littered his room, seasonal decorations that the staff put up for all the residents. Maybe one of the elderly women came to visit Steele sometimes, and left him letters of her affection; maybe he even returned them, on occasion. Or maybe…
He pushed the key back into the ignition, exhaling shakily.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, shaking his head as the car purred back to life. He offered a withered chuckle, “Here I dragged us, knocking on the door, but I don’t think I can walk through it. Not yet”.
He glanced to the baby blues of the sky, considering what a lovely day had unfolded from the storm, “Let’s go home. Coffee’s on me”.
((closed))
