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estdeus_innobis2010-08-25 01:13 pm
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I predict a riot.
“The silence often of pure innocence persuades when speaking fails.”
- Shakespeare
Monday lunchtime, near the sheriff's office, on Main Street
This has proved almost too easy. The clouds are rolling in, air heavy with the promise of rain, and I stand in my Danika body wearing an old coat with the collar turned up against the cold, jacket short enough to show a few inches of a tidy, worn work dress and a calflength of wool stocking. My shoes wear the signs of good, honest farm labour, and my blonde hair is frizzing round my face in the damp air. I look very distressed.
"Did - was there really a man arrested for... for beating on a girl?" I say to an old woman gossiping with her friend on the street. My fingers flutter together anxiously.
"Oh yes," she says, "it's a horrible thing. They think also he did in a girl as worked at - well, the brothel, my dear," she says, lowering her voice over that salacious detail, eyes gleaming with prurient interest. "They think he chopped her up."
"Oh," I say, and I faint very neatly to the ground. It's not long before I have half a dozen people round me - offering water, saying they will take me to the Dormouse, fussing with my coat collar to let me breathe.
"I should've said something," I say, and I burst into tears. That gets me sat down on a bench, an old woman's arm around my shoulders, and a very handsome young man crouched at my feet. "I should - "
"What is is, dear? Do you know something about what happened to those girls?"
I shake my head tightly.
"I know - I know - him," I say quietly. "He - We went out a couple of times, and he was - he was real nice to me, and -" The old woman gives me a handkerchief. "You know, I ain't really dated much," I say, shamefaced, "cos my momma's sick a bunch and I'm busy out on the farm, and he just - he was real nice, and when he -" I turn my face away, and I can feel the vibrating tension from the boy at my feet, his desire to be a hero. "He - I thought it was my fault," I say, and then there is a furious chatter rising from the little crowd, and the conversation spreads in ripples.
"Some carnie's been carving up our girls," one man says fiercely. And there is discussion of me and of Melania - ah, yes, that explains some of what I saw in her - and how we're hard working girls, salt of the earth girls, and who is this monster and why hasn't he been strung up? What the hell is wrong with this town that a murderer and molester can be caught redhanded and he's cosseted in jail? And did you hear that he attacked that nice Mrs Beddau (I wonder if at any other time Glass has been described as nice) when she went to visit him in prison? He should be put in the old stocks in town. People would show him how they felt, alright. They'd show him very clearly indeed.
I manage a brave, trembling smile for the boy at my feet, and he springs up, ready for something, anything, if it will make me look at him like that again. And I nestle in against the arm of the old woman as the crowd grows larger and voices grow louder, and I wait for the storm to break.
[OPEN]
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I've been huddling inside ever since the mob rushed forwards trying to be invisible. But there are people outside and when the horses crashed into the mob the people on the edges scattered. I should offer some of those a place to get out of things. People trying to get away from this mess don't deserve to get killed or hurt by just being in the wrong place. Besides I've got at least some things to patch hurt people up with and by the sounds out there it's gonna be necessary.
So I cautiously stick my head out the front door. To look around, only then realizing maybe I shoulda found something to cover my bright purple hair, and spot a small huddle of people in the door way of the general store. It's right next to my place so they don't got to move very far, and hopefully no one will spot my hair and try to attack us. I call out, "Want to come inside, outta this madness?"
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I don't get to finish before I'm elbowed in the ribs by a petite redhead. My head's ringing and my ribs ache, and when did the crowd get so loud, and I hear her apologizing, "Oh! I'm so sorry! I was looking for...someone I know." She probably means Miss O'Hara and I try to scan the crowd again but I can't concentrate with the roaring echo in my ears. Damnit, I think I missed her when the cavalry rode by.
"Are you both okay? Where's Kate? Is anyone hurt inside?" I try to shake it off and say, "Miss O'Hara ran into the crowd but we haven't seen her since." Feeling steadier, "We're fine," and I look down at Romana to make sure, and then into the General Store. There's a few people in there, including a young woman with red hair. "Everyone looks alright inside..." I turn to the street, adding, "--but not out there."
My fingers are itching to sketch all of it but I really need to find a safer spot. Unexpectedly, safety comes from next door when a purple-haired girl calls out, "Want to come inside, outta this madness?"
"Hell yes!" I reply and I tap Romana on the shoulder, "Let's go over there." I turn to redhead that bumped into me and advise, "Come with us and don't go into that mess. Not now."
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Another girl with purple hair (purple? how'd she make it look that color, must ask her when this is over) asks us if we want to come into her place next door, and this time Michael says "Hell yes!" and I feel like dancing. I get up at his finger-poke and follow him and the redhead who opened up her door first. I go inside quick, who knows how long we'd've had to wait if the purple haired girl hadn't offered us shelter. As soon as we're inside, I turn to her. "I'm Romana," I say breathlessly. "Can't thank you enough for lettin' us come inside, I've never seen nothin' like this. Who're you?"
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Looking into the crowd, I sigh. I hope she's alright. I look back up at the man and almost ask if he's sure he's okay. He looks a touch dazed. Something about the eyes...
"Want to come inside, outta this madness?"
I open my mouth to thank her when the man calls out a reply of "Hell Yes!" I can't help but agree. Following them both into the salon, I say a quiet thanks to the girl who let us in. "I'm Kaeli Whyte. It was really kind of you. Are you okay?" She seems well enough, but I still can't tell for sure since anger and pain seem to be coming from everywhere. "Was that Wanda going into the Bakery?" I wonder if Lucien is out there too, or if the injured are being brought to him.
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The blonde who seems like she's probably my age, turns to me as soon as she's in the door, She talks quickly almost breathless with it.
The other,a redhead is quieter but no less intense. She wants to know if I'm okay as well as to offer thanks and her name.
I smile at all three of them as I close the door behind Ms Whyte, answering questions in the order of importance. "I'm okay. It seems the least I could do. My name's Verite."
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The purple-haired girl closes the door, and the redhead, Kaeli, asks, "Was that Wanda going into the Bakery?" I don't know what she looks like but I do want to find out since Mr. Laclos recommended her.
"I'm new in town and I don't know who Wanda is but we saw some people going into the bakery. Maybe they had the same idea we did." The crowd roars again, and the weirdest thing catches my eye and I move closer to the window. "Excuse me? What is that?" I'm pointing to the ten-foot-tall creature with the flaming head. I'm sketching quickly, trying to capture the image of that thing on paper. "Is that a pumpkin ...on fire?"