Participants:
Scene Title | No News is Bad News |
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Synopsis | Eileen delivers a package to the Lighthouse; she and Brian bring one another up to speed while she's there. |
Date | February 19, 2009 |
Staten Island — The Lighthouse
The movers are here. A borrowed pick-up rests just outside the lighthouse, a few mattresses stacked up in the bed of it. The movers are moving one such mattress into the front door of the building. Though the special thing about these movers, is that they all just happen to be the same person. Three men, all identical. Though dressed differently it is obvious the three of them are Brian Fulk. As two of them carry the last mattress in, the third goes to follow them in and close the door behind them.
It's a bright and sunny afternoon, though not particularly warm. Besides the movers, there doesn't appear to be much activity around the lighthouse.
Eileen isn't an uncommon sight at the Lighthouse these days, and neither is the glossy-feathered raven perched upon her shoulder. Her primary reason for visiting this afternoon probably has to do with the parcel of food she carries under her arm, packed in plain brown paper and an unremarkable length of twine. As she makes her way down the path that winds through the property and eventually moves alongside the idle pickup truck, the raven launches off her shoulder and, with a few purposeful thrusts of its wings, wheels upwards on the ocean breeze, disappearing behind the tower.
She arrives at the doorstep a few minutes after Brian and his identical cohorts have gone inside, and for a moment seriously appears to debate just leaving the parcel where one of them can find it later. Gray-green eyes move up and down the length of the door before they finally settle upon the handle, tentative.
Really, the decision shouldn't be that difficult.
"Brian?"
In a surprisingly short amount of time, the door is flung open, as if Brian were just sitting by the door waiting for someone to call his name on the other side of it. Giving a tilt of his head at her, it's followed by a very warm smile. "Come on, Eileen." He murmurs softly, stepping out of the doorway so that she could pass through. He gestures with one hand for her to move in.
"You know what I mean."
Eileen gives Brian a flat look that isn't entirely unamused. "It's 'I swear what he means'," she corrects him, her voice mild and not without a little good — if self-depreciating — humour. You don't get to be twenty without hearing that one at least a couple times in your lifetime. Having no desire to track mud all over the lighthouse proper, she brushes the soles of her ballet flats against the steps a few times to scrape the dirt off them before she steps inside and weaves around the furniture toward where she remembers the kitchen being.
That may very well be the correct lyrics but—"We agree to disagree." Stepping back, he goes to shut the door behind her. "I bet I'm the first one to tell you that super funny joke, huh, huh?" He grins a little bit, as he locks the door behind her, his replicates going up the stairs as she goes into the kitchen. "Everything's pretty much set up. You think you can make it here Friday? Having a little housewarming shindig, if you could stop by I'm sure the boys would be glad to see you." He murmurs as he idly follows her into the kitchen.
"The last time I saw Bai-Chan," Eileen points out as she sets the parcel down on the kitchen counter and reaches inside her winter coat with one gloved hand, "I had to explain to him that his father was dead. I don't want him to see me as a bearer of bad news, but—" When her hand slips back out, a small knife is nestled against the palm of her hand, and she uses it to slice through the twine packaging with a sharp flick of her wrist. "I wouldn't blame him if he did. Who else is coming?"
"This girl Kameron.. She's really nice. You'll like her. She's going to be staying here and helping me with the kids and everything." Brian says, wth a little nod. Though to the subject of dead fathers he goes relatively silent, turning his gaze to other places. Hmmm. "Or—" He says, directing his eyes back to Eileen. "The bearer of delicious treats." Brian says with a smile, going to move closer to the parcel. A little smirk rises up, "Last time I let you have a knife, we got in big trouble."
Kameron isn't a familiar name, but Eileen gives Brian a small nod just the same. If she comes recommended by Fulk, then chances are she isn't going to have problems with her either. It's too bad the same cannot be said of their other mutual acquaintances — Catherine Chesterfield springs immediately to mind. "I guess it's a good thing Teo isn't around then, hm?" The knife cuts into the paper wrapping with ease, and soon Eileen is peeling it away from what's inside the parcel. "I wouldn't call these delicious," she says, gesturing to the unmarked plastic baggies filled with what looks like seed, "but if you put them in the ground when spring rolls and make sure the kids look after them, you should be growing your own treats in no time."
"Hey, I wanted to do that. Good idea. It's like we're telepathi—." Maybe that's not the best joke to tell in present company. He grins when she talks about Teo. Funny how stabbings and torture can turn into plain old hilarious stories just a few months down the road. "Yeah, I've spread the word a little bit. So should get a nice little crowd. Hopefully no assholes." He says, though a hand is quickly brought to his mouth as his eyes search the room. No kids. "I've been trying to cut back on the cussing."
Eileen places her knife back in her interior coat pocket where it belongs. No matter how hilarious, there will be no stabbings or torture today — she's on a schedule. "Good idea," she agrees. "I'm sorry I can't stay long. I would like to see Bai-Chan and Joe again, it's just that maybe now it's the best time. Has there been any news about Abigail?"
"No." Kind of a sore subject. Brian murmurs, eyeing her as he tenses a little bit. "Nothing." It's an angry tone, the inflection also carries a bit of self blame for that 'nothing'. "Yeah.. You can see them Friday." Brian says softly, giving a little frown. "You haven't heard anything about that guy I asked about have you?"
So much for trying to avoid playing the bearer of bad news. "No leads," Eileen says, "or at least none that are worth disclosing. My birds haven't turned up anything on Abigail, so either she's not here or she's only setting foot outside after nightfall when things are too dark for me to make a positive identification. I'll be honest with you, Brian. It isn't looking good for either of them."
His lips go thin as he lets out a thin sigh. "She has to be alive. Why would someone capture a healer and then kill her? Whoever kidnapped her has to be using her." Right? "Or maybe— " No, don't think about that. That has to be it. "I won't give up hope on either of them. If you see anything— " He just gives a nod to finish his sentence.
"If I see anything," Eileen finishes Brian's sentence for him, "you and Teo will be the first ones to know. I promise." She doesn't want to think about the alternative either, and not just because it's gruesome. While she might not consider Abigail a friend, she owes the healer her life twice over — being unable to repay a debt like the one she has is something that sticks with a person and keeps them awake well into the long hours of the night.
If nothing else, Eileen values her sleep.
"The last place I can think to look is with John Logan," she says on her way out the door, "if anyone knows how to find a pretty little thing like her in a neighborhood like this, it's time. Maybe he can help."
"Thank you Eileen. I really appreciate it. I hope I'll see you Friday, or sooner." He murmurs as she makes her way to the kitchen, going to eye the seeds she left behind. Placing his hands up on the kitchen counter he takes a deep breath before looking to the door, repeating the name she spoke. "John Logan.."
"I know that name."
February 19th: Somebody Else's Business |
Previously in this storyline… Next in this storyline… |
February 19th: The Honeymoon Suite |