~!~ cherry chan ~!~ (seresa) wrote in remains_freenet, @ 2016-09-15 09:08:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | # 2019 [09] september, # interview, # username: cherryontop, # username: memento |
INTERVIEW: Bunny Dolan (posted September 5, 2019 -- 10:30AM)
[Cherry wonders, briefly, if Nate ever struggled to interview people he knew well. She's sure there's pieces of Bunny's story that she'll be hearing for the first time, but as with Marina, it's hard for her to resist the instinct to launch into normal conversation or avoid topics they've already discussed between them. She knows her next question will already bring them into emotional territory, but she knows just as well that the kind of love she and Nate had was the sort that touched every part of her friend's life.] I think I know a thing or two about nicknames that end up feeling more like you than the name on your certificate. How did you come across it? It was given to me by my fiancé. [It's a deliberate choice on her part, to decide not to say ‘former fiancé’ or ‘late fiancé’. Nate exists in an in-between state in her life, both an enormous part of her past -- and Bunny has always been the sort of person who holds the past close to her heart -- and undeniably responsible for her present. Whether he continues to shape her future is still up in the air.] It was his way of saying he thought I was cute, when we first started seeing each other, and it stuck after a while. [She smiles softly and gives a little shake of her head.] I’m not sure I could go back, now. [Behind the camera, Cherry offers an encouraging, sympathetic smile before she follows up her first question with the inevitable.] Can you tell me about your fiancé? [Bunny nods, as much in answer to the question as to reassure herself that, yes, she can do this.] Nate was special. Not perfect, just … special. He made documentaries, and even when he wasn't behind the camera, he had this way of looking at the world and finding all the stories in it that nobody else saw. I was enchanted by that. I lived in this tiny little town in Kentucky, a town I hadn't ever been more than a day's drive away from. Which suited me just fine. He was from Scotland and had traveled all over the world, doing and seeing so many things. But despite all that, we were more alike than not -- two stars in the same constellation. [As she speaks, Bunny’s eyes take on the telltale shine of gathering tears, but they never actually spill over.] That's what I mean by special. Even now that he's gone, I'd never take back a single minute of it. [Cherry feels the responsibility of telling this story as she adjusts the camera's focus and watches her friend go through her catharsis. When she speaks again, her voice is gentle.] What happened to him? I don’t know. He went out one day and just never came back. We searched, but his truck and his equipment was all that turned up. And Nate never would have willingly left his camera. [Bunny’s eyes flicker in the direction of said camera, which falters noticeably as Cherry realizes why her gaze has drifted, and she feels overcome with the sudden wish for something undefinable and just out of reach. Answers, maybe, that she’ll never have. With a small shake of her head, she looks away again, back at Cherry.] Something happened, that’s all the certainty we have. For a long time I held onto the hope that he’d come rolling up, filled to the brim with shaggy dog stories about all the adventures he’d been on, but -- [She takes a deep breath.] It’s a hard thing to live with, the not knowing. I’m starting to make my peace with it. [It's something that has always amazed Cherry: the ability for Bunny to still see hope and goodness where she sees none. Even though the statement alludes to their friendship behind the camera, and it doesn't ring as true for herself as it does her friend, she can't help but say:] Hope doesn't always have to take the same shape as it did the day before. [The words, familiar enough that they could have come from Bunny’s own mouth, draw out her smile again. She nods.] Yes, exactly. [Cherry's gaze lifts up above the camera, looking at her friend in plain sight instead of through the camera's display, and offers another smile, steering the conversation away from the painful topic of Nate, though she knows his spectre will be present throughout the remainder of their interview together.] So how'd a girl who'd never left her hometown before end up in Austin? It was Nate, of course. Following him was always at the heart of my journey. [If there’s one theme that’s bound to run through almost every answer Bunny gives, it’s her fiancé. Unlike talking about his disappearance, though, the events that kicked off her trip from Kentucky to Texas are far enough in the past that they no longer ache to remember. Her voice doesn’t waver as she recounts them.] But what really lay at the start of it was the fox I heard howling outside my house one night. I knew that was my signal to leave. [She laughs quietly.] It sounds a bit strange, I know, but it was like … Like the noise woke me up in more ways than one. It was after the shufflers came to Harlan, and after I'd lost most of my brothers to them. Every day after that was like looking through smoke, or mist. I could see the basic shapes of life, without being able to make out any of the details. And when I heard that fox, the air suddenly cleared. I knew exactly what I was supposed to do, and I just started packing. Maybe it was some kind of instinct taking over, but I thought of it as following my heart and letting my feet go wherever they would take me. And it worked, eventually. [The answer is so quintessentially Bunny, Cherry can't help but break out into a brief, wide grin.] Have you always trusted your instincts so strongly? Or looked for signs in that same kind of way? Yes. Maybe not quite as strongly as I do now, but it's always been a part of me, as long as I can remember. [Her expression softens, her tone settling into the gentle cadence of nostalgia.] Rain on a Monday and it would be damp all week. Hear a mourning dove before I got out of bed and I'd cry by the end of the day. There was a good side to it too, though. Walking through a spider web or finding a wild strawberry was lucky. My watch stopped the day I first saw Nate, and I knew that had meaning, that he was as good as mine. [At these words, her right hand slips almost automatically to touch the broken analog watch she still wears, and her fingers trace the shape of its face with reverence. After a second she frowns and looks down at the timepiece. The camera captures the moment when Bunny registers exactly what she’s seeing and she goes very, very still. Her next words are soft, sorrowful.] And now it’s running again. Just like that, when I wasn’t looking. [The camera shakes. It's not a lot of movement, and Cherry settles it pretty quickly after, but the disturbance is noticeable to anyone watching. Behind the camera, she looks up at Bunny with clear alarm.] What does that mean? [Bunny can still feel the eye of the camera watching, but that takes second place to the sudden change of this symbol, which has guided her life for almost 10 years. With great care, like there’s something here that might shatter if she’s not gentle with it, she takes the watch off. The skin beneath is slightly lighter -- a ghostly reminder of the timepiece. Bunny sets the watch on her knee while she rubs at her wrist. Now, at last, she looks back at Cherry and her eyes are shining again.] Looks like it's closure. The watch stopped when Nate walked into my life, and it’s free to start back up again now that I’m willing to admit that, one way or another, he’s walked out of it for good. It’s fitting. Painful, too, but I think -- no, I know that it’s a good step. I can feel that it is, now that I’m listening. Good. [And maybe Cherry's not supposed to comment on an interviewee's words like that or put out any kind of judgment call, but she can't help it.] I hope so. I want this to be -- [She's said too much, and she knows it. A pause, then:] What do you do with your days? I don't know if we've discussed that yet. Depending on the time of day, I’m usually doing one of three things. [She counts off on her fingers.] Working here in the greenhouse, caring for the livestock, or minding my friend’s twin baby boys. [Bunny’s smile is sudden and sweet, lighting her face up again.] I guess you could say I like nurturing life. We didn’t have a farm, exactly, growing up, but it was real hard to live in Harlan without picking up a few things about raising crops or animals. And babies -- well, I’ve always loved children. I’ve just been lucky to find ways to make use of the things I know. I think we could all use a little more of that. Was it easy, getting things to grow in Austin? [This draws a laugh. As the conversation continues to move further from Nate, Bunny’s face grows even more sunny and her posture more relaxed. It’s obvious that the greenhouse is much more comfortable for her to talk about and she warms to the topic very quickly.] No, I wouldn’t say it was easy, but I wouldn't say I minded the hard work either. At the time I was first setting up, the s’mores gas was still being released, meaning anything that I tried to grow had to be protected from a stray cloud floating through. Plants need air, though, so they couldn’t just be sealed inside. I did a lot of manual air circulation to start, cranking on an old fan. And the poison was in the soil, too, after years of gas moving around the city, so I had to bring in fresh from outside Austin. Even after all those steps, I still felt like I was just crossing my fingers and hoping real hard that it would work. It seems to be working, though, so that's some bit of luck on our side, right? [Cherry shifts the camera, then, slowly panning away from Bunny towards the greenhouse behind her, before she begins to zoom out. More of the Dog Park, though it's emptier than it's ever been, is now visible.] Do you want to show me what you've been working on? We could take a look at the animals, too. Oh, can we? I'd love to. [Bunny rises, shifting her chair aside to better open the door to the greenhouse. She leads the camera within, where it's a little dimmer and the heavy air casts a slight haze over everything. Raised beds run on either side of the enclosed space. They hold a variety of plants, growing as closely together as possible to make the most of the limited room. A trailing vine that has escaped from its support cage reaches for Bunny as she turns to face Cherry again, so she tucks it back out of harm's way again before continuing.] It's not able to hold much in here, so I'd like to expand for next year, or maybe just build another one. Once the land is recovered, of course, we can grow more variety too. For now it's just a few herbs and things like tomatoes, peppers, and cucumbers. [All the same, she's proud of what they've done here and it shows in her smile as she looks around the greenhouse.] This is really something. [Cherry's been in here before, but it's been a considerable amount of time and she can see just how long it's been in the plant growth and Bunny's proud expression.] Even after they stopped the gas, I wondered how well we'd be able to grow things. And to think you started this before then… [Cherry trails off to focus her camera on the plants themselves before she pans back up to Bunny's face.] Did you ever doubt it would work? [Bunny nods.] Every day until the first shoots started coming up. But the other side of doubt is hope, and I had a lot of that too. No matter which way it went, I just had to try, because one way or another we were going to need more food. Still do, even with the supplies coming in now. [Cherry steps backward now, getting more footage of the entire greenhouse and the woman responsible for it.] That's true. You never know what will happen, and I think history makes it pretty clear us Austinites know how to get through anything. [For a moment, Bunny falls silent, looking around the inside of the greenhouse just like any farmer might, looking at the crops and thinking about the future. Then she waves for Cherry to head outside again.] I’ll take you to see the livestock next. The coop is just across the way and so is the little pasture for the cows. I’m aiming to expand both here soon, now that most of the people are moving out of the Park and into other housing. [Cherry steps back once more, letting Bunny take the lead before she follows with the camera, tracing their path between buildings. She allows a bit more of the Dog Park to enter the frame before they reach their destination.] You've moved out, too, haven't you? It's a lot less crowded than it used to be. Yup, I’m sharing a place here in the Greenbelt District. [She laughs softly.] It's strange to be living in a real house again, but I have to say I like it. Especially having a kitchen. [Like the greenhouse, both the chicken coop and the small outbuilding for the cows have a kind of cobbled together look, since everything was built with whatever materials could be scrounged from the city at the time. There’s poultry netting encircling a run outside the coop, where a small flock of birds can be seen milling about, and inside the neighboring fence half a dozen cows stand in a cluster, soaking up the sunlight. Bunny pauses long enough to open the gate to the pasture, gesturing again for Cherry to follow her inside.] Come on and get a close up. They’ve been fed and watered already, so they won’t mind if we join them. They look awfully eager for company. [Cherry laughs, then, suddenly, thinking about a pervasive attitude that had spread through the Dog Park when the cows had first arrived:] I'm impressed they're all still standing. The guys haven't gotten you to make steaks out of one yet? There have been some hints, but having fresh milk in the long run beats having steak for a night. At least I think so. [Bunny reaches out to pat the nearest cow, running her hand along its side. The beast’s only acknowledgement of her is with a flick of the switch on its tail in her direction.] They're kind of a novelty, too, as well as being useful. Other than dogs and the occasional cats, you don't see too many animals in Austin. [The camera zooms in on Bunny and her four legged charges, framing them both in the shot.] I think it's clear that your hard work's paid off with them. And anyone who's had their milk, or the chickens' eggs, would totally agree. [Cherry pauses, knowing this next bit might be treading on a sensitive topic, but it's necessary for what they're doing so she forges onward.] You -- and the supplies you've been able to provide throughout Austin, so far -- are probably the nicest things to come out of the Greenbelt so far. The Hellhounds don't exactly have the best reputation. [It’s not a question, so Bunny doesn't respond with anything more than a wordless sound encouraging Cherry to go on.] Were you aware of who the Hellhounds were and what you did when you first came to live here in this district in 2018? Yes, of course. [Her tone is even, matter-of-fact. Bunny never was the kind to hide her head in the sand or look the other way, and though this topic is clearly not a comfortable one for her, she isn't shying from it.] I might've walked into Austin ignorant, but I didn't stay that way. I knew what I was doing, what I was giving up and what I was taking on by moving here the way I did to live alongside the Hellhounds and their legacy. And me not liking or not condoning all of it, or the fact that deplorable things were being carried out in other parts of Austin, too -- well, none of it makes much difference. Why? [It could be construed as an accusing sort of question, but considering Cherry's own background there's none of that subtext behind the word.] Because I chose to accept all of it, the bad with the good, and come here anyway. I’ll own that. [Giving the cow a final pat, Bunny lets her arm drop back down to her side.] I know it doesn’t make sense to everyone, trading in a room in the Capitol to come live in an outdoor camp, but … [She trails off, then purses her lips for a moment before continuing.] One thing I've learned since I left Harlan is that there are people you just can’t bear the idea of losing. Sometimes it happens anyway, because there's things you can't control, but the things you can -- you do what you have to. I knew this was where I needed to be, to be with the people I care about most of all, so it was an easy decision. [Cherry nods behind the camera, her gaze lifting from its screen to the woman in front of her. Even though her own similar realization sent her in the opposite direction, away from her friend and her first home in Austin, she knows what it's like to feel grounded by a person.] Who is that for you, here? Nate was an anchor for you, of course, but what -- or who's stopping you from drifting away from the Greenbelt? Bode. [Bunny answers without hesitation, then smiles at the fact that she just can't seem to rewrite her subconscious to supply his new name first.] Bishop, if you prefer. He's an old friend from back in Harlan, and without him and his boys around, without his support after Nate disappeared, I'm sure I'd be much worse off. But it's more than just one person, and more than my ongoing work with the plants and these animals. There's a whole community in the Greenbelt that I feel tied to, one that's so vibrant. And that connection is enough to turn a blind eye to the crimes of the past, and his in particular? How do you manage to look past those things? [Cherry hates to think of something happening to Bishop, but for the sake of the interview and the side she's trying to tell, she needs to dig into this for at least a little bit. She wonders if she's going easier on Bunny than another journalist would.] If he was gone, would you stay here? I wouldn’t say my eye is blind, exactly. [But she amends almost immediately, with a slight tilt of her head to accompany the words.] Maybe some. But I think -- I think that what I see most clearly is his heart, and the heart at the center of this whole community. There’s something good here, and if the crimes of the past are truly past, then I think the future has a real chance. So, yes. I would stay here and see that through. [As a breeze lifts her hair, Bunny turns her face into it and looks past the pens and into what remains of the camp. After a moment her attention comes back to Cherry.] The area’s changed a lot since I first came, and I'm looking forward to seeing where it goes from here. I've got a good feeling about it. And if it wasn't all in the past? [Cherry's asking questions now that are based less in her objective journalistic interest and more in the guilt she feels about her own connection to this place and its men.] Is that good worth the bad that others have been experienced? [Before Cherry finishes asking her question, Bunny is already shaking her head.] I don't mean what's been done should be forgotten, or that it won't continue to affect anyone now. But we -- the people who have lived in the Dog Park -- have a responsibility to do differently than we have been, to change our actions and leave those old ways behind us. Especially if we want the Greenbelt to find its way onto solid ground. Not everyone will look at this place and see anything worthwhile here, and I wouldn’t expect that. We carry a lot of history, and it can be hard to find value beneath all that. But I hope that won't always be true. I hope the future is brighter. I hope our legacy can be ... not written over, but added onto in a positive way. [Cherry makes eye contact with Bunny once more, knowing the interview is beginning to come to an end and searching for a good way to wrap. She wants to make it easier for people who don't love the Greenbelt's original inhabitants as much as she does to at least begin to understand how someone could choose to live here and support their ways -- and, perhaps, be complicit in their crimes.] You always see the good in people. [It's not a question or an accusation; her tone is warm.] I hope your view on things -- and here, in particular -- is catching. |