orangetoughguy | log post II

Fuck the garbage bags.

[What'll they do if they have to stop somewhere and split up? Or ditch the stuff? Or worse yet what if someone pulls them over? No, Freddy won't stand to let anyone else touch their belongings, even if it means leaving everything here.]

Let's take what we need and lock the place up. [How can Freddy possibly choose only a few things out of the entire home they've built up?]

[All of this here will be a shrine, kinda like some mummy's tomb.]

Okay.

[That means they'll get dressed, get weapons. Before turning away completely Larry firmly grips Freddy's upper arm and pulls him in to give him a kiss for...luck, courage and a reminder that together everything can be okay.

They're gonna get out of this place and face the real world head-on.]

[That's a morbid but perfect way to put it. Their own little shrine. But they're not going to be dead (if only Freddy knew).]

I'll get--

[Sam. The old man takes the words right out of his mouth with that kiss. The kid drags his hands all over him without hesitation, holding, touching, squeezing. Kissing firmly. Fucking like crazy last night would have been a great idea.]

[Does this mean that if they die they will haunt this place? (If only Larry knew.)

Paws rove everywhere, all over him. Arms, back, hair, ass, body to body like they can never be torn apart by fucking anything, they're that fucking solid. It could be the way that their mouths are mashing together leaving him with not all that much oxygen but the simple logic that there's not enough time hurts.]

See you downstairs.

[He's suddenly so wrapped up in Lawrence Dimick that Freddy forgets they're supposed to be gearing up. Finally tearing away from him--only by the mouth--the kid nods. It's hesitant but fueled by doing this together.]

Okay, Larry.

[Maybe that wasn't helpful for the cause in the long run, but opportunities shouldn't be missed. Heading into his room, the old man turns on the lights. Brown eyes go over the flowers in their vases. A few are wilting, in need of more water or general pruning. His bed is unmade. The suit for what would have been the next day for work is hanging out, ready to go. At least he won't pend too much time figuring out which one he'll be wearing out of here.

Don't hang your head, old man. Change.]

Fuck.

[Larry's not the only one riding that same wavelength. The kid's putting his suit on, not quite the same as the day they arrived but it looks pretty close. For one, this set isn't full of bullets and bloodstains. He looks like he just stepped out of that damn diner. Looking around his room now he expects Sandy Rogers to start playing on the stereo but nothing comes on. It's quiet. Freddy pockets the flattest of his Marvel Transformers before moving downstairs to let the toucan out.]

[The old man comes out of his room. Two Guns, cigarettes, a lighter, two new clips, a comb and a handkerchief: it's enough. Downstairs he goes to the diamonds in their new, toucan free hiding place.]

We got any toast or anything?

[To eat. On the road. Oh fuck, man this is happening. Why is it that all of those times he's thought about it he didn't feel like fucking shit?]

No, but I got this?

[Donuts. A box of them. Is that stupid or poignant? Freddy offers the open box to Larry either way. They got glazed, sprinkled, crumbed, the usual. Meanwhile the toucan's stretching those blue feet and big black wings before flying over to stand near the pair.] You look good.

[Freddy can't help but say it when he gets a real good long look at Lawrence Dimick. Mr. White. He didn't get to say it the first time around those many many months ago.]

[It's not stupid but Larry finds himself laughing anyway. He' takes out a crumbed donut. Sam looks confused as much as a bird can look and express. That makes three of them.

Taking a gander at Freddy, at what he's wearing...what they both are wearing it's too coincidental. Good is a start to describe how he looks to the old man.]

You look like a million bucks, baby.

[He can say that here. And he fucking will.]

Yeah, thanks.

[He doesn't feel like a million bucks but no one can help that. Hell maybe he's not supposed to feel like a million bucks anyway. They're going back home but they're leaving a home to get back to that home. It's hard. Freddy bites into a chocolate glazed donut. At least it's fresh and so good. He puts the box down to take their time finishing these. They're owed that luxury aren't they?]

Milk?

[...there is still some left right? He goes to the fridge. Ah. Yep. Enough here for a glass. Larry pours himself some coffee but holds up the mug in case if the kid wants it. All of this is natural, automatic now because that's what people do when they live together. Location will be the first big change. What else will follow?]

It doesn't feel real right now.

It sure doesn't.

[He's taking that glass of milk and wolfing it down with another bite of donut like he's twelve years old. The toucan wandering on the counter and staring at both of them makes it a little more surreal. Freddy can't decide if it's the space inside that feels unreal or the space outside anymore.]

Shit Larry I don't know if I can do it.

[Oh fuck if there was a time for tears it's right now. He was going to tell the old man right then and there he's a cop, before they wound up here. If time's passed they're probably missing persons. If not...then the cops, they'll be looking for them.]

[The old man takes a seat. A donut dunked in hot coffee is an unbeatable combination. Still things are strange.]

You can. [Larry looks up from his mug and for a moment he thinks of another drink. Instead he sets it down] I know that you can. If it means picking up where we started, that's what it means. We're doing this, alright? We're doing this right.

[Together.]

I fucked up so fuckin' bad, man.

[Sorry Lawrence Dimick, this kid is weeping.] I fuckin' killed them.

[The woman in the car, Officer Nash.]

[As a crook? Yes. As a cop though? How in the hell was he supposed to control that many elements? How? Larry pulls his chair closer. Eye contact is what he is striving for.

Don't turn away, Freddy because he's gonna try and follow you, try and go to the place where you are emotionally.]

You didn't make Blonde crack. You didn't make the cops come late. [They came late right?] Everything else after was in response.

[The chair creaks as he leans closer to put his hand on Freddy's knee. As clear as yesterday he can hear the gunshots, see the faces. Joe, Eddie, Blonde, Brown, Blue, the young black girl...]

Shit happened, okay?

[Shit happened and now shit's got real. They're this close to LA, this close to kissing their rock and roll fantasy goodbye. What's going to happen to Larry? What's going to happen to Freddy? If it weren't for his major fuck up maybe they wouldn't be here. What does it all mean? Freddy rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms.]

I'm sorry, Larry.

[For not keeping his cool back then and now, for being a cop, for being unable to tell him everything's gonna be okay.]

[The color of his eyes really kicks up a notch when the water works are on. Breaks Larry's heart. What to tell him? Nothing to get his hopes up too high. Shit is going to hit the fan. They'll be back in Los Angeles, whatever time may or may not have lapsed they'll be looked for. He sighs and leans even closer both hands hover a second like he can't touch him, like it isn't acceptable---back home it's not everywhere else but some private place. How many of those will they get?

The handkerchief comes on out. Not a fleck of blood is on it. Larry hands it over to Freddy to blow that nose on it, to wipe his face, fuck to just throw it back.]

Quit it with that.

[Fuck it, old man. Don't wall up now. That's not what the kid needs.]

I've forgiven you. Don't you know that?

[For once the kid actually uses it, not that he's had many opportunities to refuse it. Freddy wipes at his eyes before dabbing at his stately nose. No need to blow it just yet.]

I know.

[That's what makes this so fucking hard, like they could be throwing away something they've built together for home, for real life so to speak. Was this real life too or just fantasy? Fuck no. Don't think that way Newendyke. Lawrence Dimick is real. He reaches out to grab hold of Larry's hand tightly.]

[Hand in hand, kinda like they started in the backseat of that lady's car.]

We're only leavin' behind stuff, okay? We're gonna take all that we learned and did with us.

[Where are these words coming from? They're so fucking certain. So damn cool.]

I'm not gonna stop lovin' you or caring about what the fuck happens, okay?

[Just the very way White says it makes Orange smile a little bit, like when he whispered into his ear. He's fucking comforting in his own way even when he's not making a joke. Freddy nods once, twice.]

Whatever fuckin' happens.

[I fucking love you, old man.]

That's a good man.

[How are they supposed to not be so damn frank and open with displays of affection? The old man combs back Freddy's hair from his forehead. What a fucking sap.]

We're gonna be okay.

[The kid nods again, still a little shaky but otherwise firm on going with Lawrence Dimick to wherever this trip is gonna take them.]

We're gonna be okay.

[See? He said the goddamn fucking words.]

[That's the most important element of the trip, they're in this together 100%.]

Preach it.

[No more tears hopefully. Those he won't be able to handle. Behind the wheel he'll really have to steel himself and not turn tail. They've done that before. And before Freddy wasn't ready for it. Hell, the old man doesn't feel ready but it feels right to go with it.]

Should we get the bird somethin'?

[To eat, or maybe some kinda cage to go?]

No, he's gonna be fine.

[Freddy says with a pat to Sam's head. See because if they don't make it somewhere safe, somewhere he can keep the bird, Sam's heading off to a luxurious pad in the LA Zoo. It's a sad plan but he isn't gonna lock the bird up in the shrine or just let him fly off on his own. This isn't Brazil...of course they could always head down to Brazil too.]

Okay, I'm cool. I'm cool... [Say it like a mantra, Newendyke.] Let's finish up.

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whitetwoguns - 2011-06-14 20:54 (UTC) - Expand