orangetoughguy | log post II

[Shit shit shit. Things sounded like they could've been on the up and up too.]

No, that ain't it, Larry.

[Then what is it, Newendyke? That's the part the kid can't answer even for himself.]

[That's what Larry thought too. Now though he's got a sinking feeling.]

Then what?

[His exasperation isn't in his voice because he keeps it down. He wants to know.]

...this guy musta helped you a lot.

Yeah that's why I hit him for givin' me the idea.

[The retort is quick and a little ill-timed even though Freddy really does mean to show his knuckles as evidence that this guy doesn't help out that much.]

We just talk over lunch sometimes. Not all the time. [Larry should know, if the kid's not with the therapist then he's with the old man.]

[How long has this been going on? Had he and his therapist friend been acquaintance until his memory was fucked then these lunches started after?

Now he's thinking about how Freddy looks to the outside. A good looking, funny kind of a single kid could use company people would think. How much do you say to a therapist?

Just how messed up are they?]

Okay. You talked to him.

[He takes a long drink of his beer.]

About God. He said go with it. You went over and punched him.

Yeah, I went over and punched him.

[For that Freddy just kind of nods with a one-shoulder shrug. What else can he say to that? He wouldn't try to justify it either. Again, it is what it is. He punched the guy, but he said he was sorry too.]

It was stupid.

[Larry nods too. No bullshitting, he just...wants to get through this part. Listen, hear it, accept it. Not like Freddy's trying to piss him off. Larry doesn't know a thing about the therapist friend. Probably some old shit.]

That's what you meant on the balcony.

Yeah, it was. I mean it's not stupid I tried you know, because I'm not ashamed of that.

[He was, a little, he's trying to not be ashamed about still wanting some faith in his life.]

I guess I didn't do it right or however it was he was tryin' to tell me.

[This man that he hasn't met is rubbing him the wrong way. Again. Trying to tell him. What the fuck does he know? Larry is picking his teeth with his thumbnail though there's nothing in them. Cereal doesn't catch that way.]

You'd never mentioned being religious before.

I didn't mention a lot of things, Larry. You don't either. I dunno it's not stuff you can just talk about real easy I guess.

[Come on, for a little while they went by codenames and well there was that cop thing. But Freddy was obviously able to talk about this particular issue of faith with that other guy. Shit.]

You're right. It's not. I was thinking about that. I could have stood to be more open minded.

[Pick. Pick]

Half the problem though. [With the church or something. Freddy's not that though.] Your therapist friend believe in God? That must make it easier.

No, he don't. He's some spiritual hippie crap.

[On one hand that almost makes it seem patronizing. On the other it was never really about God in the first place and more about introducing an aspect of himself into their home that happens to deal with faith in God.]

What are you getting at?

[The picking doesn't escape the kid's notice at all.]

...okay.

[That doesn't make any sense though. How can he be more understanding? Maybe it could be that he's more open to rack job things. That kind of a thing.]

Hm? Oh. Nothing. Nerves I guess.

[He's itching for something. Not a cigarette.]

Edited 2011-03-15 08:25 (UTC)

[..........Freddy just stares at Larry.]

Tell me. What is it now.

[Oops he didn't mean to imply that last part so harshly, but it came out. And it is what it is.]

I'm fighting not to do something stupid okay. [Like fall off the wagon looking for a fix. Which is a fucking stupid reason to do so when your man needs you to be clean. This isn't that bad of a conversation...is it?]

All the fucking tension. [Hands away from his mouth.]

You talk about what you believe with a guy you don't know as well as me.

[Or does he?]

I can't believe this bullshit.

[Yeah, he said it. Bullshit. Freddy shakes his head, realizing this isn't going to end so well. Again.]

I don't come home to him or fuck him.

[Or get Transformer toys from him or hold his hand when he's fucking dying.]

[Yeah. Well. Believe it. Larry's not backing down or turning to apology, not now and not just yet.]

I didn't say that. Sounds like you damn close to him. [Shrug. Could be some old coot with no friends, no body at all and a kid who likes to talk and old ears that like to listen and play Master Yoda.]

You listen to him.

[The first thing he wants to shoot back is that he's not close to him so it shouldn't fucking matter, but the fact that Larry thinks he could be and that this is apparently a problem grinds his nerves. Don't let the old guy have all the answers so easily.]

So what if I was?

[There are a couple of people Freddy's close to...like family members and an ex-girlfriend, and stuff.]

If you were then [the old man stands up and moves away from the kitchen barstool seating, he's going to the coffee table for a cigarette] I'd think it'd be something we could talk about.

[Or is that something that's not quite done neither? Larry realizes he's starting to sound like a pissy, possessive girlfriend. At this moment he doesn't give a fuck.]

You're getting ideas you don't need to be getting. I'm gonna be upstairs.

[The kid takes his beer and turns away from the kitchen. It is something they could talk about, honestly, but the implications thus far and the burn fresh again just makes Freddy not want to talk about it. For now.]

[Inhale. Exhale.]

You just got in. Don't go leavin' again already.

[He did apologize didn't he? Well, that was for before. And right now he needs to do it again? Already? Brown eyes watch him as he moves to the stairs.]

Cut me a break here, kid.

Well what the fuck do you want me to do, Larry? You get suspicious about everything.

[Okay maybe 'suspicious' is pushing it but that's how it feels to the kid. He's stopped near the stairs but not on them yet.]

You got questions about the shit I put in my room, you got questions about who I fuckin' talk to.

I pissed you off.

[Swallow. Well. No shit there.]

I can't even fucking ask questions to figure out how or why? I can't get answers? That what you're trying to tell me? If I don't ask, how the fuck am I supposed to know?

[He spreads his hands and actually is expecting an answer to at least one of those questions.]

Larry. Get off my back.

[The way he says it this time there's an undercurrent of anger again. Not just annoyance and frustration.]

We're not going to talk then.

[All that waiting. For nothing. Larry sucks down another drag from his cigarette. The old man himself is now getting angry. He's not even being given the chance to fix whatever the fuck he messed up.

Yes, he does think that the shrink is suspicious. And aside from that, all this time Freddy never said he knew anyone. Why not?]

That is what you should tell me if you're not going to answer my questions.

[The kid bites his tongue before he can say anymore because anything he has to say only feeds into what the old man wants and Freddy here doesn't want to give it. Instead of saying anything at all he just gestures his open hands at Larry, as if to say cool, you answered your own question.

Then he turns to stomp back upstairs.]

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whitetwoguns - 2011-03-16 05:29 (UTC) - Expand

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orangetoughguy - 2011-03-16 05:51 (UTC) - Expand