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estdeus_innobis2009-02-19 09:45 pm
brotherlaurence.livejournal.com) wrote in estdeus_innobis2009-02-19 09:45 pm
I wish I could forget it but the begger never rides his horse.
Night of Monday, September Fourteenth
I got dressed, a sinking feeling in my gut once all the tears've gone, and drank water. Only an idiot would do what I'm doing dehydrated.
Only an idiot would do it at all.
I sit at the bar and nod to the bartender, who brings me a whiskey neat when I ask and I pay him for it plus a good tip, trying my best not to look miserable or too much like a man whose not had a drink in ten years. I look at the liquid in my glass a moment and don't think of the brothel merely feet away.
[OPEN.]
[CLOSED.]
I got dressed, a sinking feeling in my gut once all the tears've gone, and drank water. Only an idiot would do what I'm doing dehydrated.
Only an idiot would do it at all.
I sit at the bar and nod to the bartender, who brings me a whiskey neat when I ask and I pay him for it plus a good tip, trying my best not to look miserable or too much like a man whose not had a drink in ten years. I look at the liquid in my glass a moment and don't think of the brothel merely feet away.
[CLOSED.]
no subject
"I...I'm sorry?"
“Oh!” I lean toward him with an indulgent smile and try to speak a little louder.
“I was just wondering how long we were to let our drinks sit before consuming them? Seems like yours has been sitting there a while, and with the way you are staring at it so intently, I figured I should ask before I rudely tuck into mine. And perhaps I can ask you a question?” Already I’ve asked him quite a few.
“What is it we are drinking?”
no subject
“What is it we are drinking?” she asks and I laugh.
"Whiskey neat," I tell her and set down my own before extending my hand. "I am Laurence, miss. Perhaps you could tell me what you're doing in a bar by yourself drinking a liquor you don't know and talking to a strange old man?" I ask in good humour.
no subject
"Whiskey neat,"
I try the name out on my lips after he says it; mimicking him like some small birds I’ve seen a time or two in my travels. The word has a nice fullness to it, and an abrupt end. A little like I’d imagine love would be like. I nod with approval at the drink he’s chosen.
He extends his hand toward me I take it in both of mine, my fingers just a bit cooler than his.
"I am Laurence, miss. Perhaps you could tell me what you're doing in a bar by yourself drinking liquor you don't know and talking to a strange old man?"
“Sister Julia.” I instantly reply, before correcting myself. “Julia.” Seeing as I am sitting in a bar, perhaps we can drop the first part.
“Well,” I have to think of how I can phrase the reasons I came down this way that doesn’t seem like I am trying to skip out on prayers or working.
“I’ve just finished my novitiate with the Abbey.” Might as well start at the beginning.
“And I’ve not been able to come down Silk Road yet, and it has changed a bit since I left, and I heard music this way, and looking inside, I didn’t really plan on coming in, but then really, I didn’t have a choice once the door was flung open.” The little smile on my lips says that perhaps not all of that is one hundred percent true.
“The bartender asked me what I would have, and I didn’t have any earthly idea, so I asked for what you were having. And you aren’t so strange, or that old.” I think I’ve answered all of the questions Laurence had.
“Can you do me a favor? And not mention this to the Deputy?” I give him a grin.
“Liam gets up in arms when I start talking to strangers. But really, we aren’t strangers anymore are we?” That is a comforting thought, and a nice loop hole.
“So why are you having a Whiskey neat?” I do have so many more questions, but I’ll start with the one that is most interesting. I don’t add the ‘and looking so sad,” at the end of it.
no subject
"Julia," I repeat and smile a bit, taking my hand back gently.
I listen to her story, nodding at the appropriate parts and place my elbow on the bar, temple against my fist, listening, until she ends with, “Can you do me a favor? And not mention this to the Deputy?” I sit up and look her over. One of the Linford boy's girls. Of course he got a nun. I can't get a thing from the owner of the general store, but a nun he gets. I correct the thought quickly, since after all I wasn't really after such things until that stupid dream, but not before I have my drink in my hand again.
“Liam gets up in arms when I start talking to strangers. But really, we aren’t strangers anymore are we?” she continues and I smile a little, eyes on my glass.
"'Guess not. Never would've pegged you for being 'round the deputy, miss," I muse.
“So why are you having a Whiskey neat?” she asks and my eyes go to her again. A brief thought crosses my mind where I wonder how easy she is, then it's gone. I return to her question, thinking and considering the drink again.
"Because I don't think there's much point in not. Not any more." And it's true. What have I been sober for? To what end? I catch a glimpse of myself, the image Nanshe showed me of beer bottles and the mess I was. It appears and then with a minute shake of my head, it's gone. I resolved not to let Kate see me like that, but I don't think that will be much of a problem.
no subject
"'Guess not. Never would've pegged you for being 'round the deputy, miss," Then he’s looking away from me and back at the drink and I feel like I’ve missed something.
“Oh, he wasn’t the deputy when I first started running around with him.” I assure Laurence, incase he thinks that I’m in trouble with the law. That is a terrible assumption, perhaps he thinks I’m hiding out?
Amusing as it is horrible.
“Actually, I don’t remember if he could even speak in full sentences then. Not that, has ever stopped him from being demanding.” I try to remember back that far for a moment.
“I’ve always had a sweet spot for him though; my momma says he has an angel’s face with the devil’s own mind. He just likes to look after me, I think. Make sure I’m not getting into any trouble except with him. Not the handcuffing kind of trouble, mind you. Though I’m sure Liam would like me under lock and key.” I laugh musing about my friend’s antics.
After a few moments of musing about Liam, we are back on the serious subject of drinking, and Laurence slips back into that sad shell he has.
"Because I don't think there's much point in not. Not any more."
I puzzle that out for a moment, and nod slowly.
“So, you’ve had a reason not to up until now?” I am just trying to get a grasp of the situation.
“What happened to it?”
no subject
“So, you’ve had a reason not to up until now? What happened to it?” she asks and I set the glass down and look at her again. I consider her a moment, wondering why she would care, why she doesn't just go back to her deputy's harem.
"It...disappeared," I say finally, then look at my glass again, untouched splash of alcohol in it. "'Left' is probably a better way of putting it."
no subject
I feel sorry for him; I’ve found that faith is truest way to salve over those needs and doubts. Trusting in something higher and far more powerful than yourself.
He looks at me, as if he can’t figure out what I am about, all I can do is offer him a smile back. It’s in my nature to care, and so my heart squeezes a little for him, I don’t know what words to say that will right things for him. But perhaps he doesn’t need words; maybe he needs a kind ear?
"It...disappeared,"
That response seems vague to me, and I look down at the amber liquid myself.
“People have told me I’m nosy, but I don’t mean to be.” I confess to him and reach out rest the tips of my fingers on the hand that is cradling the glass.
“And if you don’t want to answer, please feel free to tell me. You won’t hurt my feelings.” I give him a smile.
“But reasons never disappear. Reasons only change. And we are blessed to be part of it.” I say, speaking a little more worldly than usual.
“And if you truly believed as you say, that the reason is gone. Then I think you may have already put that glass to work.” I get the feeling we are talking about someone and not something. But I don’t say anything yet on that subject.
“So when did your reasons change?”
no subject
"How old are you, Julia?"
no subject
He ignores what I’ve just said, but looks none to pleased to have been asked it.
"How old are you, Julia?"
My eyebrows draw together as we face each other.
“Young enough to be intimidated when it’s asked like that, and old enough to not want to answer it.” I reply with a quiet frown, trying to figure out what exactly I’ve said to cause that look on his face.
no subject
"If I answer yours, will you answer mine?" I ask, and then after a pause, I do it without really waiting for a response. "Around lunchtime, when my--" I still don't even know what to call her or say or anything, "--when she left me." I give a shrug and pick up my glass again, holding it up as if in a toast. "To better pairings," I say and swallow the whole serving.
Oh, it burns. It burns and stings and in a strange way it feels like home. A lonely, depressing home where everything I get's not really what I want but at least I forget the specifics of the world outside.
no subject
"Around lunchtime, when my--when she left me."
I give him a soft noise of understanding and nod, still wary of that smile of his and how he’s turned it on me. But he shrugs as I watch him motion the glass toward me, so I pick up my own.
"To better pairings,"
My eyes follow the disappearance of the liquid in his glass with a tinge of regret; I have the feeling that Nanse-Kam or any of the others at the Abbey would have done much better with this sad soul than I have.
It’s a most sobering and sad though, I put my own drink to my lips and even my nostrils burn from the smell. My eyes can’t help but widen as the liquid coats my mouth and scorches my throat; I even give a cough as I put down the glass on the bar with a shutter.
Horrible stuff, but it goes straight to my head.
“To better pairings,” I agree with his toast, my voice rough for a moment.
There is a small pause and I rub my throat before speaking again.
“I’m twenty six.”
no subject
"You feeling OK?" I ask gently as I move the glass to her hand. Twenty-six. Blonde. A pale comparison to Kate but enough that it's not lost on me. My throat burns a little with dryness and I swallow hard. "I'm...much older," I say with a laugh.
no subject
Whiskey neat. Nice sounding, havoc in a glass as well.
"I'm...much older,"
I give him a shrug and set back down the glass, not really knowing what age has anything to do with anything really. But I want to get back to friendlier conversation, so I go along.
“That’s alright, Laurence. I don’t mind.” My smile is sunnier now that he’s back to not rounding on me abruptly, I feel as though he needs to be watched, like a jungle cat in a cage, so I try not to let that reminder slip away.
“Nanshe, bless me but that stuff you drink is horrible.” I take another drink of the water, deciding to stick with that for the moment. I want to tell him I’m sorry about the girl he’s talking about, but don’t. A little afraid he’ll come at me again with that look of his.
“I don’t think I’ll be doing that again anytime soon.” This time there is a laugh from me, the fire down my throat is gone.