John James Searle (inneedofrepair) wrote in the_colony, @ 2010-05-06 21:55:00 |
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Entry tags: | ^ week 07, bridget mackenzie, john james searle, | bridget and searle |
Week seven - Friday
Characters: Bridget and Searle.
Location: Lake Mead.
Summary: While fishing on Lake Mead, Bridget and Searle share hopes, fears, and laughter.
Rating: PG
They had started out for Lake Mead early that morning with Searle requesting to drive since he’d done it before, but since not all parties thought that was a great idea he’d ended up in the passenger’s seat with the window down, letting the air blow into his face for most of the way.
Once they got nearer to their destination, Searle sat forward and put the window up so he could give directions to the marina where he’d met Kathleen for the first time. The water looked just a beautiful as it had those several weeks ago, and when Searle got out of the car upon arrival and grabbed their fishing gear from the back, he took a deep breath of the lake air, appreciating it was a bit cooler there.
It didn’t take long for them to settle down on the floating dock, setting up on a side where no boats were moored. Searle’s sneakers were sitting next to a tub where all caught fish would go to be transported back to Siena, and his feet were in the water as he gripped a fishing rod and watched the line idly.
Bridget’s feet rested firmly on the deck, unlike Searle she’d brought along a folding chair and had no interest in getting her feet wet. It had been years since she’d gone fishing, the last time had been with her grandfather up in the National Forest when she was around Searle’s age.
When Searle had asked to drive she’d hesitated, then said no. The arrival of the traders the night before had rattled her a little since it had meant others knew where they lived, and Bridget wanted more experienced hands at the wheel if something unexpected were to happen.
“You were awfully quiet on the way here. Penny for your thoughts?” Not that pennies were really worth anything anymore, but the expression still worked.
Searle looked up at Bridget as she spoke, but looked back at the water before he answered her. “Just thinking about stuff,” he said, his conversation with Jack coming to the forefront of his mind. He could also remember the feel of the rifle Chris had put in his hands. “Some things happened with Jack and I’m not sure what to do.”
“Oh?” Bridget frowned, wondering what had happened with Jack now. The girl seemed to have a black cloud following her wherever she went. “Wanna talk about it?”
“Yeah, a lot,” Searle admitted, “but Jack doesn’t want to. I tried to talk to her about everything that happened and she started getting mad.” He sighed, reeling in the line since it was starting to drift closer to the dock and he wanted something to do with hands. “She got into this fight with Alice and Jed, and she has her own room now because of it.” He was sure Bridget was aware of the room change, at least. “She was upset so I talked to Alice about it and I wanted to tell her what Alice said. It’s like she thinks Alice hates her. I don’t think she should. But ... I’m not going to bother her about it if she doesn’t want to talk about it. It all bothers me, though. I don’t like anyone fighting, and I don’t know why she doesn’t want to talk about it with me. We’re supposed to be best friends. I feel kinda helpless about it all. I want to reassure her or something, but I don’t think I can.”
“You don’t think she should what? Not think Alice hates her?” Searle’s words had come out in a rush and it took time for her to work through all of it. “I don’t know if there’s anything you can do, Searle. Just be there for her and be willing to listen, I think this is something she’ll have to work through on her own.”
“Guess so.” Gloom settled over him pretty easily, but Searle realized he didn’t want to pull Bridget’s mood down with his. “If that’s what will help her, that’s what I’ll do,” he decided.
“Are you having any problems?”
Bridget tossed her line back out into the water instead of responding immediately. What to say to that? Searle was only fifteen after all. “I guess it depends on what you mean by problems.” She finally told him after a minute, slowly spinning the reel to bring the lure back toward the dock.
It was a cryptic answer, and to Searle that meant something was up but he wasn’t sure if it was that Bridget didn’t want to tell him because it was so bad or she had been being serious and wasn’t sure if what was on her mind was actually a problem. Whatever that could be wasn’t easy to guess.
Searle watched his hook and bait lift from the water, the metal clicking against his rod as he wound it up as tightly as it would go. He pulled his feet out of the water and set them upon the dock so he could push himself up to stand, pulling back his arm to cast as far as he could manage. He didn’t speak until after the plunk sound from the hook hitting the water reached his ears, because it was his favorite part about fishing.
“Are you scared,” he finally asked, “about the baby? Or is it something else?”
Bridget chuckled, her expression rueful. “The baby is one thing, for sure. I’m a mess Searle, trust me.” She didn’t want to go into too much detail, he was only fifteen after all.
“Me too.” Searle felt his heart sink a little with that admission, since he’d so far been trying to push past his own personal fears and problems and appear happy-go-lucky. That was getting more difficult by the day.
“I don’t know if you know, but I met Kathleen out here. On that houseboat.” He pointed with his free hand, remembering his shock at seeing another person out there, and then at her pregnant belly. “She was already really pregnant and all by herself, so I brought her back to the group.” Searle took a seat once more, to the side of the wet spot created by his bare feet.
“Sometimes I feel like I saved her and Ian by finding her,” Searle continued, his voice quieter. “That’s what I have to keep doing. I’m going to get stronger like Chris and Jed and Leo. I think that’s the only way I’ll feel less like a mess.” He looked over at Bridget again, dark eyes serious. “If you need stuff, or even just want to talk, I’m here for you because you’ve already done a lot for me. And, I mean, in general.” Timidity crept into his voice. “I’ll do stuff for you without repayment or anything.”
Bridget stared at him, the fishing temporarily forgotten as she tried to process everything Searle just told her. Who knew such a simple request would open the floodgates? Finally she reached over and squeezed him on the shoulder, it wasn’t a hug but her other hand was occupied with the fishing rod at the moment so it would have to do for now. “Thank you for that Searle,” she told him after a moment, her vision going blurry for a moment as her emotions got the better of her. “I really appreciate your offer, I’m sure I’ll take you up on it now and then.”
Searle felt better as soon as Bridget thanked him, glad she was at least saying she would take him up on the offer rather than saying he didn’t need to listen to her problems. What was more, she sounded like she really meant it to him, and he looked up at her again to smile, distinctly warm and happy with her hand on his shoulder. “You’re welcome.”
Bridget let the hand fall away and used it to wipe some suspicious moisture from her eyes. All the extra hormones coursing through her system were making her more weepy than usual, one of the joys of pregnancy she supposed. After a moment she felt composed enough to follow up on one of the many things Searle had mentioned earlier. “So what’s this business about becoming ‘stronger’?”
“Oh, well -” Suddenly, he felt a bit embarrassed about it, and again he looked away from Bridget and back to the water. “I’m a man so I should be helping out the other guys. No big deal. I just realized if we were attacked I wouldn’t even know how to shoot a gun. Before Chris let me borrow his rifle I’d never held a gun before, and I guess that’s not so great in a world like this.”
“I thought you didn’t want anything to do with guns?” Bridget remembered an earlier conversation they’d had, and watched the back of his head as if that would provide some explanation for the change of heart. She wasn’t going to push him either way, but it was good that he’d gotten over that particular hangup. Knowing how to handle weapons was an essential skill in these times, unfortunately, and part of her mourned the loss of innocence Searle’s decision represented.
“I know,” Searle answered slowly, gripping the fishing rod somewhat more tightly than before. “I don’t really want to, but after what happened to Grace and thinking I might have to leave the group with Jack, I think I should at least know how - even if I only hunt.” Truthfully, he didn’t want to hunt either, but as his parents had told him what seemed like so long ago, part of growing up was doing things he didn’t want to do.
“I’m sorry you had to make that choice Searle,” Bridget’s tone was sympathetic as she cast her lure back out into the water. “This is a shitty world to come of age in, and you’re all having to grow up much faster than you would have otherwise.” It was a shitty world for a lot of things, actually, but she was trying not to think about that and focus on the positive.
“Yeah, and a shitty world to have a baby in. But by the time he or she comes we might be really good at living in it. I wonder where we’ll be in nine months - or however many months before the baby is born.” They were already starting to make great progress, he thought, what with the garden and everything.
“About thirty one weeks, just under eight months as the calender goes, assuming he or she decides to come on time.” Bridget confirmed with a nod. It was definitely a shitty world to have a baby in, but at least she had trained doctors that could help her if needed. “As for where...I don’t know, northern California maybe, or a little north of there.”
“I was headed to California. I stopped in Vegas just to see it since I’ve never been out west before, and I met Jack. I guess the rest is history.” Searle half-smiled, thinking about New York and how if things had gone well there he might have never left. “That’s why I made the greenhouse with lumber instead of metal. It’s easier for me for now and I figured we wouldn’t be bringing it with us. Is that where we’ll stay, you think?”
“I don’t know,” Bridget replied, which was the truth. “Honestly? I can’t imagine moving elsewhere once we settle someplace with good farmland. Gas is going to start getting scarce soon, and we’ll be in a one horsepower world again.” That made Searle sigh.
“That’s gonna suck.”
“I don’t know about that, it could be worse.” Bridget was trying to think positive. “What if there were no horses and we had to do everything with human power? At least steam will still work, once we get settled.”
“Really?” Searle sounded interested. “There’s the steam engine. That was for trains, right? Maybe we could get some cars run on steam. How come we have to rely on gas now if they could use steam to get around before?”
“Because the gasoline engine was more efficient and smaller than steam engines a hundred years ago. I don’t know how you would do it with the technology we could find today, I’m not an engineer. We could have steam heat maybe, depending on what happens.”
“Sounds like something to find a book on.” Or an instructional DVD, but he figured a book was more likely. “It might be fun to go back to horse and carriage,” Searle mused, after a few beats of silence. “I know Sam’s been talking about finding livestock or something, but who knows if we’ll be lucky enough to find horses. Maybe wild ones ... I bet pet horses didn’t survive so well.”
“If they were released I’m sure they’d survive, but I don’t know how many people thought to do that before they died.” Bridget pondered that for a moment, then paled. “I just had a horrible thought: what if zoo animals got out of the zoos before they could starve to death? Or from private animal reserves? Imagine lions and tigers roaming the countryside.”
To Searle, the thought was both awesome and scary at the same time. “It might be hard to protect our livestock from that. What’s worse, someone with a gun or a lion?”
Just then, Searle’s line jerked, and he jerked back on it, hand jumping for the reel. “Hey, I might have something!”
Bridget watched as his line grew taut, there was definitely a fish on the other end. “Don’t let him get away!” She urged, ready to put her rod and reel down to lend a hand. The vision of freshly cooked fish coming off a fire or deep fryer danced in her head and she hoped he’d be able to get the fish out of the water and into the cooler.
As the line rolled in, Searle felt a constant resistance against his hands and watched as the slender top of the rod bowed over as it strained against whatever was in the water. Splashing and flopping atop the water’s surface soon confirmed they had a fish on the line, and with care Searle reeled it in at a speed he hoped was not too slow, but not fast enough to lose them a meal.
The fish ended up lifted from the water with Searle grinning over at Bridget. It wasn’t the biggest striped bass anyone had ever caught on Lake Mead - far from it - but it would feed a couple people. If they had more luck throughout the rest of the day, they’d be in good shape.
“Wish we’d brought a camera!” Searle unhooked the fish from his line and set the rod down, holding the bass up to admire it. “Real meat. Man, I can’t wait.”
Neither could Bridget, but she managed to restrain herself. Still, the brunette grinned from ear to ear at the sight of the large fish in Searle’s hands. “Now we just have to catch some more where he came from!”
Searle dropped the fish into the cooler. “Let’s see who can catch the most. I’m already in the lead,” he said with a grin, while grabbing his fishing rod.
Bridget smiled, she could almost taste the fish dinner now. “You’re on.”