orangetoughguy | log post II

[Who's on the couch?]

Hi, Freddy.

[The bear lumbers over. Booze is free flowing in his veins, so he's happy. And the closer he gets the more he has to process. The kid's not smiling.]

We need to talk.

[Freddy says this first just to get it out of the way. Only then does he sit up and really really look at Larry. Smells him too.]

Are you drunk? [Dumb question, Newendyke.]

[Talking? Aren't they talking right now?]

I was drinking.

[To differentiate, in his own head he can't be so drunk because he's still awake. Also he can walk and take off his shoes.]

[.............]

Sit down.

[So he can be sure Larry actually listens to what he has to say.]

[Aaaaand he sits down.]

What're you doing here? Thought you'd be goin' out.

[With friends. Larry looks him over, leaning a little.]

Going out huh? With who, you got any ideas?

[Leading questions even as the kid relaxes on his side of the couch.]

[Sniff, sniff. He smells good.]

I dunno. A friend. Maybe Saya. I thought maybe you'd find Pink an' me. We did shots.

[Freddy refrains from leaning back or knocking Larry's face aside.]

You and Pink? Bullshit.

[Not really. The kid can believe it, he's just biding his time.]

[His head tilts to one side.]

What? ...Oh.

[A snap of the finger and a point.]

You're still mad.

..........

[This quick observation only makes Freddy Newendyke madder. Now it's his turn to point.]

You were spying on me.

[It's too sudden for him to try and hide his reaction.]

No, no. Not you.

[Truthfully! He wags a big paw to dismiss this statement in case of there being any doubt.]

Him. I don't trust him. Not one bit.

[Well, at least Larry isn't denying it. That's some comfort.]

I can't believe you were spying on me. Him. Me. Whatever, fuck.

How come? S'his fault. I dunno why yet but I got a feelin'.

[The old man is reaching to grip the kid's arm to get a solid hold on him.]

He's got a look to him.

[More like, the way he looks at him.]

[A feeling? Oh now he has to know and because Larry's drunk he doubts the old man will mince words.]

What kind of feeling. What kind of look. [At least he's not shrugging that paw off.]

That motherfucker wants you.

[Oh good. He's missed that.]

Come on. You're not blind.

[Squeeze that arm.]

[What? What? His expression turns a bit screwball because Freddy doesn't have 100% conviction that the motherfucker doesn't want him.]

That's fuckin' bullshit, Larry. If he wanted me I think I'd know.

Oh yeah?

[Okay. Fine. So Larry's got no solid proof, but it's a good damn hunch. Besides, those looks are telling. For now he shakes his head at the kid's resistance.]

He's trying to play it cool. Tryin'. I can see though. Who's idea was it to not tell me?

What makes you such a fucking expert? [Wait why are they arguing over who's right and who's wrong? Freddy reorients his argument.] Why were you spying on me anyway? What a jackass thing to do--

[Whose idea was... Green eyes are staring.] Not tell you what.

I know what I saw. You don't like greens. [Yeah. So he calls vegetable greens.] And where the fuck were you with him?

[Really right now he cannot remember what it was called. It was a irregular name.]

Not to tell you--me that you were talking like it wasn't really therapy.

That's a load of crap, I don't hate greens, I eat'em.

[Wait wait this is about Larry spying not how Freddy spends his lunches. Ugh. The kid shakes his head.]

Because you're taking it so fucking well right?

Hate and don't like aren't the same thing.

[Like a lotta other things funny enough. Larry leans trying to make better eye contact.]

Only cuz you didn't tell me. I like knowin' shit about you. And-and you have to go talking to someone who doesn't even know you or me. There's nothing wrong with you.

You know I kinda thought the fact he doesn't know you or me or anything else [About Freddy Newendyke.] would please you.

[Spoken with a mild amount of sarcasm. Christ even in his slightly drunken haze the kid can't help but feel warmed by the sentiment. It's nice Larry thinks nothing's wrong with him, but sometimes he thinks he could piss in the old man's coffee and he wouldn't hold much against him...for long.]

Shit it didn't start out like that either, I just needed some help for my fuckin' memory, Larry. How the hell am I supposed to be any good to you if I can't sort out my own fuckin' head. [He frowns, then tries to look angry again.] Sure as hell doesn't change anything about you fucking spying. You don't trust me?

Kinda. But see, fuck, he probably's jumping to all kinds of conclusions. I don't like that. No one but you [pointing to the kid] and me [pointing to himself] can judge anything we do.

[Pissing in his coffee would not go quietly at all. But come on, the kid was bleeding. Fucking dying. Here he is right now. Why the fuck are they arguing.]

I coulda helped!

[Who knows how. This trust thing, that's what reminds the old man that he's pissed too.]

You need to ask that?

[Larry's trying to stand but gives up. Instead he leans away.]

I could ask the very same. I'm trying to tell you things, ask you things. You keep gettin' mad.

You couldn't help cause you're part of it, Larry. You don't fuckin' get it, fuck's sake. I live a fuckin' double life every goddamn day, in and out in and fucking out people think I'm a crook people think I got somethin' to hide. People who can't know I'm a cop.

[He emphasizes the word just for Lawrence Dimick, to remind him what Freddy Newendyke is.]

When my head went out the damn window I started forgettin' what's what. I just, I didn't know what I fuckin' needed. [Here he waves a hand at the old man.] You, you always know exactly what you want, you want fucking answers, you want me to tell you I'm seeing a shrink like I don't need one, like I'm just fine in some charming fucked up way.

Get this through your fucking head, I never had to live like this before.

[It hurts to hear this. Because it's apparent the kid is in turmoil, it's apparent that Larry can't do anything about it. And yes, it's true it's is fault too.]

Yeah? Well. Me neither.

[Which isn't exactly a response either. Different issue too.]

What am I supposed to do? Oh wait. Can't ask no fucking questions.

[Okay he's on his way or at least trying. Larry almost falls into the coffee table. Nice save.]

log post II

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