boss_fisher (boss_fisher) wrote in thefield, @ 2009-02-02 19:07:00 |
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Entry tags: | alex, arlo, z - 1st tribe - day 05 |
Who: Arlo and Alex
Where: In a clearing, not too far from camp
When: Week 1, Day 5, early afternoon
What: A little meet n' greet.
Rated: As with all Arlo posts, expect language.
It was the yelling that initially attracted Alex's attention. It was taking the Lord's name in vain that caused him to go searching for the person yelling through the trees despite the lack of knowing really anything about this new place. At least so far he hadn't found anything harmful, though he was aware of the Laughers.
It didn't take long for him to follow the noise and find a dark haired man several years older than himself along in a small clearing. Not the one he had used for prayer earlier, but a different one. It was a forest, there had to be hundreds of areas like these all around. "Problem?" he asked mildly, interrupting the cursing.
Arlo was still pissed off, and confused as hell, and not in the mood for more people who didn't seem to know what they were doing. He clocked the young man and frowned. Another one of the tree-children, huh? He (and it was a he, at least, he didn't know if he could deal with more female hormonal whining bullshit) was scruffy looking and, thankfully, not naked or pregnant.
"Problem? More than one I can think of. You don't have a problem with waking up in the middle of a kid's storybook landscape, no fuckin' idea how you got there? 'Cause if not I'm damned as to what you might class as being royally screwed with."
He snorted, but noticing the Def Leppard t-shirt nodded in approval and changed his tone to one of a brusque friendliness.
"Aw, god damn it. Nice shirt. I'm Arlo."
"I'd appreciate it if you don't take the Lord's name in vain," he replied, his tone mild, but there was an undercurrent of steel to the words. He wasn't joking around. That was one of the few things that truly bothered him and he didn't just let go. He didn't mind cursing in general, though he rarely did it himself, but he did mind that. "As for problems...I wasn't expecting to wake up here, but ranting and raving won't get us back to our homes...or put food in our stomachs. Or protect us from the elements or other dangers," he pointed out reasonably. He figured their purpose would be shown in due course. Or at least, his purpose. He had faith, even if he had been thrown a curve ball, that faith had not shattered.
"I think it's sort of pretty here," he added, looking around. It was in a not-quite-right sort of way. "Reminds me of Lent. Good to meet you Arlo," he offered his hand, "Father Alex."
Arlo was used to religious types. He came from Baptist country after all. He wasn't sure about the thinking this place was beautiful though. To him it was starting to look more and more opressive. Everything about it was just wrong. the light, the trees, the grass, the smell. He wasn't big on change. He took the offered hand with his own firm, calloused grip. "Don't mean to offend, Father." - it was true, he never really did. He was just...rough around the edges. To put it mildly. "You're right of course - but I don't see how gettin' cosy in a big old tree is going to get us home either. What we need is to find a way out - not start playing Robinson Crusoe. How long you been here? You know much about the other people here? The area? Has anyone discovered anything really useful about why and how the fuck we are here? Don't seem so to me." Arlo didn't give a damn about the elements or the predators or any of that crap. People could marvel at the wonders of nature in their own time - he didn't feel that he needed to be dragged away from his home and his little girl in order for them to do it.
"Well, I arrived this morning. Helena's been here for five days now," it seemed more people had arrived today than before, more than doubling their numbers. "So I'd imagine she might have a few ideas. Or Rowan. I haven't met her yet, but she's been here four days I was told," Alex was from a working class neighborhood as well, Arlo being rough around the edges didn't bother him, "So what do you do if we can't get home? Lay down and die? Finding a way home is a good idea...but so is taking care of ourselves if we have to be here for a while," moderation was the key to most things.
"I've met a few others. A doctor and a teenager girl. And Helena. I'm not suggesting we sit around and sing Kumbaya..." maybe Pour Some Sugar on Me later though, that was a fun song, "I just think it wouldn't be a bad idea to plan for the worst and pray for the best. Unless you think you can get us a miracle?" because right now, Alex thougt that their arrival was a miracle and this place was too and he didn't think that miracles would bring them home any time soon.
This speech was just more drivel along the lines of what Rowan had given him. Lucky guy, this Priest, not to have met that uptight cow. These people were all obviously nuts, with their not-giving-a-shit and their absolute lack of common sense. But a teenage girl? That caught his interest. A lot.
"What sort of teenage girl? Short hair?" His tone was quieter, more serious. Betraying his anxiety somewhat. Every muscle in his body tensed with a desperate sort of hope. If Laurel was here... well, it changed things. A lot.
"Yeah," he nodded, unsure quite where this line of questioning was going, "Accent, Russian maybe?" he wasn't entirely certain, but it sounded right. There was a decent Russian community in Boston, but he didn't have much involvement with them. "Why?" he couldn't decide if this man was looking perhaps for a daughter or girlfriend. He had noticed the lack of ring on the other mans finger. That didn't always mean anything though, he knew divorce was common or he could be a widower or simply never married. None of those things could be ruled out.
Russian? Fuck. The glint of hope was burnt out as quickly as it had been formed.
"No. I...shit. My daughter. She's alone. If she's here then no-one's found her, and if she ain't? Well, I ain't around to watch out for her if she ain't. So it's fucked, either way. I have to get back. I have to find out what the hell this is all about. God fuckin' damn it...sorry"
He said it more to himself than to the Priest, most of his bluster gone. He was tired. He was confused, and he was tired - and if you couldn't tell a priest your problems then who could you tell?
Sitting down on a log slowly, Alex gestured for Arlo to sit too. "How old is she?" he asked, not mentioning his language for the moment. He felt for the man, he really did. He wasn't married, obviously, except to God, but he had a family too. His parents, brother, sister in law, four nieces and nephews and really...really, he hadn't really thought about them. He didn't have to take care of them though, that was a big difference. He wasn't responsible for his family...only his congregation, which he shared with several other priests.
Arlo sat, rigidly. Not one for polite conversation, really. It made him feel awkward. He could offend people all day without batting an eyelid, but the thought of talking about himself? Augh. "She's 14. Weird age. Don't suppose you got kids?"
He could hardly remember being 14. All of his childhood sort of blurred into one big mass of resentment these days. Fuck, he was just a bitter old man, and now, to top it all off, he was lost in this weird fucking situation and he felt helpless. He hated that.
"Anyway. That's why I have to figure out what the hell is happening here. I mean - why us? I'm just a man who fixes cars. I ain't special. I ain't ever pissed off the government. So what's the purpose of this? I just can't believe everyone's so fuckin' keen to bunker down without asking these questions and tryin' to get the hell away from this messed up freakshow."
"Ah, no...no kids," it wasn't unheard of, there were even married priests in special circumstances, but the majority of priests? Priests like Alex? They weren't married and never had been. "I have some nieces and nephews?" he added, but that wasn't quite the same. "Oldest is only five though. Not quite the same."
Alex remembered 14. Not very well, it sort of blurred with most of high school, but he did remember snatches. It hadn't been horrible, mostly getting into trouble with his brother and chasing girls without having a clue with what to do with them once they were caught, "I don't think people are just ignoring these question, Arlo. Why we're here and how do we get back are probably the two most asked questions behind 'where are we.' That said...what do we do if we don't find the answer today? Or tomorrow? Or a week from now? Starve? Give up? You're no good to your daughter if you're dead and we get back next week. Or next month. Or year. Yeah, it's not a great situation for you or her. But she's your daughter...and if she's anything like you, she's strong and stubborn. She'll be okay."
He didn't have kids, of course not. Stupid question really. "Stubborn, yeah. Runs in the family that one. Shit, I don't know."
He felt stupid for talking like this. It wasn't right, made his skin feel like something was crawling out of it. He stood up abruptly and moved away from Alex. That was his fill of civil for the day, thank-you.
"Look, you understand family fuckin' values, that's my point. My priority is to get home. Not to make a new life in NeverNeverLand. Folks want to pioneer they can go nuts. I ain't gettin' stuck here though. Not happening. I ain't gettin' no help from The Lord, neither - I'm findin' my own damn way. You want to talk about stayin' around for weeks and months? That's fuckin' defeatist bullshit and I ain't taking that route."
He was back to being growly. It was better. He liked the Priest enough - seemed quiet, intelligent sort. But it wasn't about making friends and having shits and giggles. He could not accept that he would still be in this place even a week from now, let alone a year. He didn't understand the need for people to be happy-clappy and make the best out of every damn thing. Idiots.
"Running around half cocked and tiliting at windmills is not the answer either, Don Quixote," Alex pointed out, "I'm not saying lie down and accept thing, that this is Gods will. I'm saying we need more information. And we need to live to get it," this man had no sense of a middle ground it seemed, no shades of grey. Well, that was fine, Alex wouldn't keep harping on it over and over. "I married my brother. I baptised his kids. I plan on being back well before First Communion...because I will be there for that. And you'll get back to your daughter."
Arlo wasn't 100% sure who Don Quixote was. Not that it mattered, it was clearly an insult.
"Well, Father, good luck on that. When we find out what's going on I'll be glad to know you're keen on comin' with me and not sticking here to admire the flora. I'm headin' back to the tree if you don't mind. Figured I'd try and build some sorta pulley for Rowan. Not that she'd appreciate it. Dumb girl ain't gonna be able to climb so easy soon."
He had been thinking about how the hell she was going to get up there ever since he'd found out they were living in a tree. He remembered from when Cindy had been pregnant with Laurel and how she couldn't even bend to tie her shoes, let alone shimmy up a tree. Vines and sheets and clever branch positioning would make hauling a pregnant lady off the ground a possibility, and even if she was a bitch he didn't want any broken necks on his watch. Plus - construction gave him something to think about that wasn't how fucking angry he was.
He gave Alex a curt nod and a glare. He wished he hadn't told him about the plan. There'd probably be some shit about how un PC it was to try and fuckin' help a person. But oh well. He wanted to be by himself - these people didn't like him and that was how it would probably stay. So be it.
Alex didn't comment on the pulley idea. He hadn't met Rowan and wasn't entirely certain how pregnant she was, though there was no such thing as 'a little pregnant.' He'd been around his sister-in-law while she was pregnant too, especially at the end of each one. Pregnant women were not the most graceful or dexterous. "Sounds like a good idea," he agreed, though he felt that Arlo hadn't needed to call Rowan 'dumb.' Women had been having babies for millennium, he didn't think Rowan was quite reinventing the wheel. And even if Rowan didn't need it, it could be used to bring injured up or goods and things. In general, it was a good idea. "Good luck with it."