orangetoughguy | log post II

.......

[Holy fucking shit on a pogostick bouncing up and down an orc's nutsack. The bearog's gone berserk but the foxy wizard still stands. Just keep calm, Newendyke. Keep calm, Larry's not crazy, this is beyond unlike him. Freddy swallows a lump in his throat. That cigarette's totally burnt out on the floor from his own surprise.]

Larry. Who are you talkin' to?

[Super effective. The bear stands still and looks at Freddy with more of a deer in the headlights kind of a stare then that of any monster. The was trying to prevent himself from anything like that. He remains on the retreat combing his hair and attempting to fix the towel so that it sits on the rack perfectly folded in half. That doesn't take long. What other ideas can he have? What else can he say?]

You can't see her or hear her.

[Great that sounds perfectly reassuring and sane. Huff. Larry rubs his eyes as though putting it out for someone else to hear pains him....because it does.]

It's my Ma. She's right here.

[He motions to the air once more beside him but there's nothing there at all.]

Fuck. Okay. Fine. Mother this here is.... [Is what, Lawrence? What do you call him? This is highly irregular. There are plenty of women out there who could suit yo--] Shut up. This is Freddy.

[When he came apart at the seams at the warehouse the day everything went to hell Larry thought that was the worse. Maybe he's wrong.]

Freddy. [Brown eyes beg for all he's worth that something can allow the foxy wizard to continue in this leg of the dungeon however deep and dark.] This is [the word my breaks on his lips, he recovers quickly unwilling to fall that fast Ma.

Edited 2011-05-08 07:15 (UTC)

Who.

[Freddy pushes on, wanting to know the name of this person, this...phantom, haunting his Lawrence Dimick. Is it someone he knows? Is it someone he killed? Shit is it someone he once loved? Still loves? What if it's--oh. Oh fuck. No fucking way. Is this the city's idea of a sick fucking joke? Not even sick, it's fucking cruel. Freddy doesn't know what to fucking do at all. Should he say something?

At the very least, Freddy does not think Larry is making shit up. Either she's cursed to be there back from the goddamn dead or he's cursed into hallucinating her. Drugs don't enter the equation for a second.]

Larry...

[He swallows, heart racing. He doesn't know what to say to the dead mother of his closest friend. It all sounds so fucking ridiculous, maybe even demeaning to all those involved.] I can't see her...

[The kid doesn't mean 'therefore you've gone loco' the kid means he doesn't know where to start with Ma.]

[This is where none shall pass. Even though they're standing together in the bathroom of their apartment bearog is trapped alone with whatever wicked enchantment is letting him hear all of these things.

Stand up straight. Stop staring. It's rude.

Lawrence Dimick you got this man shot. Isn't that enough? You let this young man be! He's not a criminal! There are plenty of good members of law enforcement. Shooting them and killing them! You may as well be a communist or a nazi. That's not what this country needs. If only you had joined the army...

His eyes squeeze shut.]

She's in her white and pink flowered church social dress with a darker kinda colored sweater. And her hair and make up is all done up. ...Just like I remember.

[A shake of his head his eyes open.]

[No no no no no don't stop looking. If he stops looking he might lose sight of Freddy and their home altogether. The kid reaches out to place a hand on the old man's shoulder.

I'm still here.

You know, just in case Larry was wondering... His brow furrows over the description Larry paints for him, a handsome woman (he imagines this so because Lawrence Dimick is quite a looker) in her Sunday best. Except the only words that come out of his stupid mouth are:]

You went to church? [No. Stop this right now, Newendyke. Don't talk church with this man or his mother. He shakes his head and looks to the mirror like maybe he'll catch a glimpse of her, her reflection somewhere.]

Come on, come out, let's sit down Larry.

[That touch feels so good. He wants more.

Keep your hands to yourself. Flo Dimick crosses her arms. She can see what's going on. He doesn't know any better. You should!]

Yeah.

[That he should know better. That he attended church as a boy. That he'll go wherever Freddy suggests. Each step is shuffled. Defeated.

There's an idea. It's Sunday. You could find a church. As a matter of fact you could begin a confession. The father attending would be wrapped up for the better part of a day. What are you waiting for? All of those lives torn apart one would think you'd have the slightest bit of heart. It makes no sense you'd have affection for a good officer of the law let alone a man.

In the mirror Freddy may see a glimmer of a Milwaukee homemaker with a broad nose and rather stern looking dark eyes.]

It won't stop.

[The commentary. He sits in a heap now. No he's not shaking and muttering to himself but Larry's face is even more riddled with lines and creases.]

Edited 2011-05-08 08:16 (UTC)

Come on man, take it easy. [And oof to the couch.]

Lemme get you somethin' to drink. [To douse those bearog flames. He's about to make a quick dash to the kitchen when he stops to amend himself.] Water.

[And he's off again. A non-alcoholic beverage because this kid knows in these circumstances, whether she's real or not, that woman would have a lot to say about booze. Freddy never read Larry's whole file, he found the invasion of privacy a little too hard to swallow for someone who took to him so well, but he knows some details. Hell he learned a couple because of this stupid city. Toy cars come to mind.]

Here, Larry. [He's shuffling back with a glass.]

Trying.

[Juggling knives would be about on the same level. At least then you can see each stab.]

Thank you.

[Polite guy that he is always it seems extra careful. You get this kid? He's being watched. Prompted at every turn. What he wouldn't give for a stiff drink and to lay next to Freddy.

The glass is cool and he purposely touches the tips of Freddy's fingers.

Oh, Lawrence. Your father and that good for nothing brother of his. No values. At least with me we had our Sundays. There was hope.]

You can imagine, can't you?

[The things she is saying.]

Sure.

[He nods, Freddy's way of saying 'you're welcome' but he doesn't take a seat himself. This fox hound is on guard, protecting the bear any way he can, whether or not he needs protection from this phantom. For fuck's sake Newendyke that's his mother, don't treat her like a threat. Except look at what her presence is doing to the man. It can't be good. He can't imagine.]

No, I can't. [He's being honest.] You don't have to tell me...

[But Larry can if he wants to, if he needs Freddy to experience it too. With these ears he hears nothing and with these green eyes he doesn't see a thing save for the ugliness its casting on his friend, but he can listen and he can watch out for both of them. Freddy puts his hand on Larry's shoulder again.]

[Larry's hand fits over Freddy's, it's bigger and more rough. He's been a lotta places and seen a lotta things.]

She doesn't think this is right.

[Doe she need to elaborate further? In defiance he gives the hand a squeeze. His face looks stony still.]

I don't wanna be right.

[You cannot know what you're saying.]

[He may act like a flappy dumb blonde at times but Freddy can be a fucking smart guy when it really matters. This falls somewhere in the middle of the two extremes. He's pretty sure he knows what Larry means, it's the action Freddy decides to take in response that's just a tiny bit questionable.]

It wouldn't be the first time some guy's mom swore her son was up to some wrong.

[The kid settles down to sit on the couch, paw still in touch, fitted. He's got his legs semi-draped over Larry's lap. Now it's the bearog being protected from a threat who shall not pass the fox-faced wizard.]

[Honor thy mother and father is about right in his ear now. Larry keeps his eyes on Freddy though lounging on him and their couch. The old man is about as comfortable as he's gonna get. His stance is still rigid when all he wants is to flop on top of that body and lay in the quiet.]

It's about everything. The bathroom's a mess so you know.

[That's supposed to be funny.]

Guess I'm more like my Pop. I dunno how to feel about that. And I should be goin' to church now and spending the night confessing.

Edited 2011-05-08 18:41 (UTC)

Yeah, I know man. I can take half the blame.

[Freddy says so casually as if there wasn't a phantom mother haunting the old man. It's hard not to give a little humor for humor, however ill-timed. Hearing this the kid's got to ask though.]

So your mom's Catholic? Well I'm Catholic too.

[Kinda. The point is shouldn't mom be a little pleased that although he may be a man, a younger man, and a cop, at least he's a nice Catholic boy? His family on his mother's side would be ecstatic.]

Maybe we should get like a cleaner or something.

[A cleaner! You mean a maid! That is a waste of money. You both are perfectly capable of cleaning yourself. The old man smiles and leans his head back against the cushion of the couch.]

I wondered but I didn't know for sure. When I was younger she was really into it. Pop didn't care much for it. He said it made her a hypocrite. Then again he said a lot of things.

[He may be Catholic but that means he'll be doing quite a bit for repentance--] Shuddup, Ma. [Don't take that tone with me. I care about you, son. I love you. That is why I say all of these things. Larry rubs his face huffing a few breaths in and out. Hearing that cuts him right to the core.]

You mean a maid?

[Freddy asks with a quirked brow, unaware of the phantom echo echo echo. Seeing the way Larry struggles to address two different people almost makes him frown. The kid reaches up to guide that hardened jaw towards himself.]

Hey, you don't need to tell me what she's sayin' but if you wanna say somethin', I'm listening.

Yeah. I do. She says it's too expensive and a waste when we could do it ourselves.

[And she is reiterating it after the fact. Larry keeps facing Freddy like looking at him alone will make everything else fall away. It's true he can't see his mother's disapproving face for a few moments until she moves close behind the kid.]

She says you got a good chance since yo'll actually...you know do something about being Catholic. Implying that you're still on the wrong track though. Not quite her wording.

[Larry swallows.]

Ma's tellin' me that all this shit is coming out because she loves me.

[His laugh is so hallow one part because of how much she seethes at more swearing but also because he can't believe this is happening.]

Do somethin'? Somethin' like what? Go to confession? The priest doesn't need to fuckin' know, God does and I'm still right here.

[Freddy says, maybe with more intensity than he means to give as green eyes seek out to lock with brown ones. Sure he sough punishment for what happened to Sam but endangering an innocent toucan is something completely different from this which endangers no one and only makes them happy, no matter how many times Freddy might fuck something up in an effort to keep their happiness. Killing an innocent person for Larry, doing that when he didn't have to? Doing it without remorse? That's being on the wrong track.]

...I'm sorry, man.

[Wow what a dumb sounding thing to say, but the kid doesn't know where to stand on that. She's his mother, Freddy thinks Larry still loves her too, and that only makes going against her wishes worse. He's still holding onto that firm jaw too.]

[Oh dear. Lawrence, he is going about it all wrong. You need to set him straight. God knows but he needs to be forgiven by the priest who will directly show him how to properly please Him. And it keeps on going. He doesn't relay this. It's not worth it. In the old man's eyes Freddy's not yet damned. As far as dirty rotten things go his list is short, far shorter than Larry's how the fuck is he supposed to even begin to say what is right. The kid didn't gun down cops. The kid didn't shoot up about a month of pay into his veins or snort it up his nose.]

Sure am glad you're here, kid.

[After all these things he's done. They can be sinners together.]

I was gonna try and get you to go out today but...I'm glad it didn't turn out like that.

[Those hands on him, those green eyes are weaving a spell of support like any worthy wizard worth his salt.]

I always thought that if I'd ever see her again---[Son, darling. I love you. I want what's best for you.] I'm not a kid anymore. She wasn't fucking there. S'not my fault. [He'll say this to Freddy and to the elephant of a lady in the room.]

[Maybe he didn't do all those things but he's still willing to entertain the idea of running off together, saying fuck it all to LA and head for Mexico. That still doesn't include killing cops or snorting drugs but it does include turning away from his family, from his own mom too. She's nothing like Larry's as far as he knows. Could he do it?

Yes, only if he can call in from time to time. How selfish is your ass, Newendyke.]

We can go somewhere or we don't gotta go nowhere.

[He says this to Lawrence as some reassurance, whatever it is the old man wants, the kid is gonna do if it's for his sake. That is unless he wants to throw Freddy out to deal with his mom on his own. He might not accept that. How hypocritical is your ass, Newendyke.]

You always thought what? Tell me. [Keep talking to me, keep remembering she's peripheral and I'm real.]

[Running away together to anywhere but here is something he wants to do all the time. Even if they're in the City going to dinner or cruising. If Freddy said that he wanted to go someplace else if...when they get back home, the old man would make it happen in a heartbeat. Does that make him selfish? Greedy? The kid has much more to lose. Larry has only possessions if he can carry them with him.]

I'm starvin'. ....eating out gets so expensive though.

[Those aren't his words. No shit.]

I always thought she'd apologize you know? Tells me that she's sorry that she went away, that she missed me. That somehow she'd been trying to look out for me the whole time like some guardian angel. [Though would that still qualify as some belief in God?] After you have so many parents and shit... you kinda get delusional, forget how things really are. I mean. Believe me, she's not always like this.

[Oh yeah, that definitely can't be Lawrence Dimick. Knowing the woman died while Larry was still a boy it occurs to him this phantom can't be her because she wouldn't know all these details about his life now. The man's in middle age, a far cry from boyhood. Is she real? A ghost? Or is this a cruel city trick? Freddy isn't sure what to make of it and that's why he tries to handle this situation with kid gloves.]

Lemme throw a plate together for you.

[Oh shit Mr. White do you really want this guy to cook for you? Don't mistake it for Freddy Newendyke trying to impress his mom either, it's just better than having to endure her presence with other people around. Okay maybe a little showing-her-what-he's-made-of is involved too. When Larry says those last words the kid's expression softens a little. Hand moves from face to shoulder again, squeezing firm.]

I believe you, Larry.

[Just like how his dad's not always a grudge-holding asshole.]

[Freddy? Cooking? He's touched that the kid is even gonna give it a go. ...what on earth would it yield? If the kitchen suffered some kind of disaster would Ma Dimick turn tail in terror?]

I'd appreciate it.

[Manners, manners. Now that the foxy wizard has some kinda control of the situation the bearog will follow him to his work space at the kitchen or wherever. As long as he's not alone with the woman.]

[He's gonna try, the operative word here is try. He's pleased Larry's willing to let him try too even though at this point it seems like the old man doesn't have too many choices. Up and at'em in the kitchen Freddy starts going through the fridge and shelves and things. He's gonna see what they have first then throw some ideas around.]

Spaghettios and rice? Spaghettios sandwich? Spaghettios out of the can?

[Plunk, he sets a can down on the counter. Is it possible to scramble some eggs with it or make a spaghettio omelete?]

...Are you gonna heat it?

[Brown eyes look from the can to the man and back again. Bless his heart, he's trying. You can make toast, can't you Lawrence? Larry makes himself comfortable on one of the seats closer to the kitchen action.]

[Freddy stares at Larry like he's trying to decide if he's the one saying it or if Ma Dimick is the one saying it or maybe for once mother and son are in agreement over this inquiry.]

....Yeah. [GOSH.]

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