InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "That's Kinda Weird"

Norman Bates (i_shower) wrote in we_coexist,
@ 2011-02-07 13:15:00

Entry tags:

harleen quinzel, norman bates

Rentable Rooms Short Renters [Open]
It was lonely up at the Bates Motel.

Norman sat on the wooden-planked porch that stretched out across the twelve cabin motel. It was of the old fashioned variety, where one could easily pull their car up in front of the door to their room and walk on in, complete avoidance of other people. The only interaction (on paper) occurred when the guest signed in the guest book. Norman was never too particular about who his guests were or where they came from. He just liked to keep a log, for the sake of professionalism. And, in the off chance, that he might have to bill for damages. Occasionally, teenage kids would shack up at his motel -- yes, he knew exactly what they were doing -- and, occasionally, things would get broken. Norman didn't like it when people disrespected his establishment. It was a reputable business, after all. People didn't seem to appreciate all of the hard work that went into running a motel. Even a small motel required delicate care to the details.

The rooms were always clean. In fact, Norman washed all of the sheets on a weekly basis, regardless of whether the rooms had been occupied or not. He also had complimentary (motel personalized) stationary and pens placed in every room. Just in case somebody wanted to write home to their family, telling of their wonderful stay at the Bates Motel. (Hey, a guy could dream, couldn't he?) Why, even last summer, Norman had painted the outside of the motel. A very pale, pastel yellow color. Of course, he didn't realize that nobody else could tell what color it was. Because the Bates Motel (and the house atop the hill) were always pigmented in black and white.

But despite all of Norman's attempts at making the motel a more welcoming environment in The City, he still had no occupants. The light of the sign flashed Vacancy every ten seconds. (He left the light on during the daylight hours, too. Just in case.)

He sighed, swinging his legs beneath the bench he sat upon. The City was aglow in brightness. He could tell it was a busy day from the sounds of cars and traffic. But up at the motel, everything was quiet. Peaceful. Perhaps he shouldn't have complained so much? But it would have been nice to have some company.

Norman reached into a paper bag that sat on the bench beside him and took out a piece of candy corn, tossing it into his mouth. He wouldn't get upset. They would come. Eventually they would all come. Mother had promised him.

It was only a matter of time.

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i_lovemrj
2011-02-11 06:24 am UTC (link)

Well of course he’d say it was a good place if it was his. That didn’t necessarily make it so, but it did seem tidy and well-kept. Which was a lot more than Harley could say for some of the places she’d stayed in the past. Being a henchwench could be far less than glamorous on occasion. Okay, more than occasionally. Alright, a lot of the time.

But it was a trade off. Even if she’d kept up her former life, it wasn’t a guarantee that she’d get to stay in five-star places. Now, she could sometimes. When she’d had a good score, or she scammed her way in, or she stole one of those nifty key cards. And the times when she stayed in a place where even the hyenas looked at the floor askance, well, that was just a price that was paid for the excitement that came with her new profession. She wasn’t exchanging that for anything.

Harley wrinkled up her nose at the man when he asked his question. “Of course they’re clean. They don’t stink, do they? They get regular bubble baths and pedicures.”

Which was usually a rather messy process in and of itself, but it wasn’t like she was planning to give her babies a beauty day in one of his motel rooms. And barring them barfing something up on a bedspread, she couldn’t really see how they’d be unclean. Destructive, that was another matter all together. Bud and Lou liked to chew. On everything. And tug of war was a favorite game, with whatever they might find along the way. Not that she was going to tell this guy that.

“I didn’t even know there was a motel out here,” she commented, flopping bonelessly onto the bench beside him. The stutter and general demeanor suggested he was the shy sort, and not too likely to offer an invitation. Not that Harley waited for those anymore anyway.

“But I’m sure glad there is. My car got a flat, and no spare, can ya believe it?” As she spoke, Harley looked around for a possible replacement to the defective vehicle she left on the side of the road. Maybe he had something she could “borrow” to get back into the heart of The City. “And here I am, no triple A!”

But possibly a white knight. He seemed like a nice fella, the sort that would help out a damsel in distress. Harley batted her lashes at him for good measure and asked sweetly, “Don’t suppose you could help a girl out, could ya? Maybe a lift? Or a phone? Or some cash to pay a tow?”

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i_shower
2011-02-14 04:13 pm UTC (link)

A flat tire.

It was almost as if The City was trying to help instigate Norman's repressive personality. There was little other reason why anyone would venture out into his proverbial neck of the woods without some sort of unforeseen push by a more powerful (and invisible) force. Of course, there were always the curious sorts. The ones who came seeking out Norman and his motel on purpose. They seemed to have some sort of knowledge and nostalgic familiarity with Norman that the motel manager couldn't quite put his finger on. For the most part, he didn't know these people. But somehow they seemed to know him. It didn't bother Norman. It just made him curious. But those few and far between aside, his other visitors were people like this young lady. People who found themselves on the outskirts of The City with no refuge but to ask for assistance from the closest person.

And Norman was always willing to lend a hand. (And so was Mother -- when she was in the mood.)

"I have a ph-phone in the office you can b-b-borrow. If you nn-need to call a tow truck. I don't d-d-drive."

Norman was a little uncomfortable with her closeness. It wasn't often that he came into contact with women. They made him feel strange. A paranoid glance was given to the house up on the hill. Mother would not approve of him sitting so close to this female stranger. Mother would be furious if she saw. If she knew.

Norman ate another piece of candy corn. His face grew pale, more so than it already was in his monochromatic hue. He looked like he might vomit.

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i_lovemrj
2011-02-22 11:50 pm UTC (link)

Harley smiled when he stuttered out that he had a phone. That was sort of cute. Not that she went for the shy types, they were so not her kind of fella. Harl preferred a man that knew exactly what he wanted and exactly how to get it. A casual disregard for rules and laws was a plus in her book too. But this shy and polite thing was an amusing change of pace. For the moment.

A second later, though, her jaw dropped with his blunt admission. It took a moment for her to think about what he’d said, weigh it for untruths, and try to wrap her head around the entire concept. She just couldn’t comprehend it. It was too weird. It was so limiting. It was… it was unnatural!

“What do you mean you don’t drive?” she asked, flabbergasted. How could a person possibly not drive? Driving was… it was… it was the best way to get from point A to point B with the wind in your hair, gravel in your wheels and good music blaring on the radio. It was the only way to make a fantastic getaway. Yeah, sure, she knew all about running across the rooftops, and that was fun too, but nothing really beat the sheer speed of stomping a foot down on the accelerator and shooting off into the night.

“Wait, wait, wait,” she said, holding up her hand as though to stop him from speaking, even though he’d not made any response yet. “You don’t drive. Is that because you can’t or you won’t?”

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i_shower
2011-02-23 03:23 pm UTC (link)

Her exuberant reaction to his hardly noteworthy comment surprised him. Almost frightened him, in a way. If it were possible to imagine that someone like Norman Bates could be frightened. Oh, he could. He was very often in a state of fear or panic. Especially where Mother was concerned. But people on the outside didn't usually see him that way. This was something that he always found to be a little peculiar, but he hardly dwelled on much outside of the motel and Mother and the few meager hobbies that he clung to.

Like taxidermy.

He nearly choked on a piece of candy corn and ended up spitting it out on the ground. What a waste. Well, he would have to go to the drugstore later anyway. He was out of milk. And peanut butter and jelly. (Occasionally, Norman liked to indulge in sandwiches.) Usually right before he became -- well, not himself.

"I n-never learned. Mother thought it would b-be too dangerous. More p-ppeople die in car crashes every year than in p-planes, you know. It's not v-very safe. Mother approves of safety. It's okay. I like to w-w-walk. And sometimes I ride the bus."

He scooted a few inches away from her on the bench.

"Public transportation cuts back on money and environmental pollutants."

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i_lovemrj
2011-03-08 10:02 pm UTC (link)

Harley blinked at his explanation. It was dangerous? Well of course it was dangerous! That was half the fun! Then again, Harl was starting to get the impression that the guy really didn’t get out much and that his ideas of fun were beyond vanilla. After all, he liked to walk.

He liked to walk.

He liked to walk.

Yeah. He needed to get out a lot more.

“Oh-kay,” she said, still a little shocked that he took the bus. Who in their right mind took the bus? Harley couldn’t remember ever taking a bus in her life. At least, not voluntarily. For a plan or a scheme, sure. But not because she needed to get somewhere. That’s what stealing cars was for.

Maybe he just didn’t know what he was missing. Since his mother hadn’t let him learn, because it would be too dangerous. What a control freak. That irritated Harley. She’d spent the first part of her life constrained by the way others thought she should behave rather than living her life the way she wanted to. Now she was free. Maybe he just needed a little nudge to break his own shackles. That sounded terribly poetic in her brain.

Harley opened her mouth to tell him that he shouldn’t let his mother boss him around now that he was obviously an adult, when her eyes noted the activities of one of her hyenas. Oh that was probably not going to go over real well, and then he wouldn’t let her use the phone. So to cover the sounds of what Bud was currently doing over near the vacancy sign, Harley blurted out, “I could teach ya, if you want. It’s only a little dangerous, but that’s why it’s so much fun, and it’s way faster than walking. And better than letting snotty little kids breathe all over you on the bus.”

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i_shower
2011-03-27 02:22 am UTC (link)

Kids never breathed on him on the bus. In fact, most people gave him a lot of space on the bus. Though, to be honest, Norman had never stopped to think why people gave him such great space. Even when he walked on the street, passerbys tended to cross away from him, or avoid him entirely. He pursed his lips at the thought, then shook it off.

It was just like Mother said, some people were just jealous. Though, Norman didn't know what they had to be jealous of. But Mother did say that he was a handsome young man. Perhaps that is what bothered them?

"I d-don't know if that is such a g-g-ggood idea. Mother would be very upset if she found out."

Norman tilted his head to look in the direction of the house up on the hill. Mother was always watching. Even when Norman didn't know it.

"And she always finds out."

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i_lovemrj
2011-04-11 07:50 pm UTC (link)

The guy had a serious Oedipal complex, and if she didn’t have a flat tire to sort out, the psychiatrist in Harley would have loved to root around inside his brain. Not literally. That got messy, and really didn’t get the answers that one thought they might provide. But some weekly sessions would probably do him a world of good.

Now if it had been her, the idea of doing something behind the back of an authority figure was just the sort of thing to guarantee that she would do it. Life was way too short to try living up to somebody else’s expectations. She’d done it for a long time, and then her Puddin’ had shown her a better way and she was finally free. It seemed like this poor sap could use a little bit of liberty himself, sitting there stuttering, worrying about his mother. More than a little on the pathetic side. Really, if the man had a car that she could have stolen, she wouldn’t even really be bothering with him. But she needed his phone, so she was going to play nice.

Pushing him to run off and be naughty was just going to make a fella like this retreat into his shell. Then she had a bright idea, and gave him a cheerful smile. “Well why don’t we go ask her? I’ll just explain how much better it would be if you could take some driving lessons. I mean, you have a business to run here, don’t you? It would be a lot easier if you could drive to get things you need, wouldn’t it? Plus, you could drive her to get her hair done or something. Mothers like that kind of thing.”

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