Participants:
| Scene Title | Standing In One Place |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | A conversation on the way to JFK. |
| Date | February 27, 2010 |
En Route to JFK
Word through the vine is that Joseph's vacating, heading down to Tennessee. The rumor was enough to make the blonde send a message back. Seriously? Heading back home? Did he need a ride, given that the odds these days of people ever making flights seems to be low. How better to ensure when you have a ride with someone who has a law enforcement tail on them? It's nearly 99.99 percent guaranteed to get you there and on the plane safe!
She couldn't come down to the terminal proper, but she was meeting at a coffee shop on the periphery to preserve the safety of the safe house. Not lead cops or Russians to the the fall back point. A pit stop to get herself a coffee, the black liquid having made more of a presence in her life of late thanks to the few days of 12 hour shifts in ambulances, and like today and tomorrow, day off before another few days with the long hours. It shows on her face, but the smile that's there despite the persistence of certain psycho stalkers and their employer's to wipe it off. It is probably a seldom seen and welcome sight of late.
So when they're both settled back in the hybrid, Abigail takes a few moments to take in the former Pastor and his current state. "Little bird says you're heading home. To Clara, and away from here" She turns the engine on, seatbelt on and pulling out. "I figured that I might spare some time and drop you off. Make sure you know that you're welcome to come back, if you tire of the south and the quiet, lack of sirens or people trying to kill you or otherwise do nasty things"
Closing a car door against the bitter cold, Joseph draws across his seatbelt, a brief juggling act with a paper cup of tea he's bought for a couple of dollars, working to warm him from the inside out. He's polite enough not to notice inspection, pulling back the plastic lid to let some of the cool air take off the worst of its heat, recapping it before Abby can start the car. It would be hard to not look better than he did during the throes of withdrawal, and he's gaining back the weight he'd so quickly lost in one week.
And general health and good cheer, less the quiet and absorbed detox patient and more like himself. Of course, everyone changes. There's something to be said about reaching the other side. The alternative is not reaching the other side. "I'm meetin' my wife," Joseph points out, eyes up on the road ahead, "I wouldn't count out people tryna kill me so quick." And other typical lines of heterosexual humour, offering a mild smile, then a shrug. "If I wind up goin' home for good, it won't be before I make sure I've got everythin' settled down here, and I don't. I dunno how long I'll be up there but it won't be forever."
Supposedly. Unless it will be, and he calls the Garden to arrange for Alicia to be carted down, or given to a good home if Claira still cares about her sister's allergies,and rueful messages to new friends.
"Promise me that you'll treat yourself kind down there Joseph. It's good to go home really, it's where you can be you, can heal and put things in order where you can't in the midst of chaos. Just.. promise me that you'll go easy on yourself? Whatever you decide to do." the blonde offers to the pastor sitting beside her. "What's happening with Alicia if you don't mind my asking. Oh, and make sure to send Clara my regards, if you think it's safe to do so. That it was a pleasure to have met her, over the phone. I mean, you know, if it's safe to tell her such. Don't feel obligated" Good old southern manners.
She seems satisfied with the state he's in, pulling out into the street and careful toa void potholes or anything else that is spill and scald inducing. "My parents are here. I have them settled in liz's place cause it's done sealed up tight in security. Momma's being taken care of and Dah's just jabbering up a storm with Liz's Dah. It's crazy. Momma's already thrown I dunno how many washcloths at them as. Says that the two of them get thick as thieves about crazy commies touching their daughters"
The big vehicle carries on downs treets, destination JFK.
"Did I tell you thank you? For the vision. I wouldn't have known about it so soon if you hadn't… you know" Had a stomach cramp and lost control. "Dah saved Momma, the house is gone, burnt down to a crisp, but they're gonna rebuild. Church is already rallying and they're tearing it all down to see what of the foundation isn't ruined and salvagable"
The last time he traveled between this state and the other, he'd driven. A long enough journey that he didn't feel fit to do it again, and the excuse of a quick escape wouldn't go amiss. Sipping bitter English breakfast, Joseph is content to let Abby do the talking, attention steered off her towards the streets outside, bitter winter, and wonders if his plane is gonna get delayed. If the blizzards kick up, it'll be a wonder if he can get back in.
"Alicia's stayin' at the Garden. I thought the outdoors would do her some good after being cooped up underground for as much as she has. I'm sure she wouldn't mind visits from familiar faces, though. Maybe someone'll teach her how to be a guard dog."
He might have missed Christmas, but it's certainly a white winter. Joseph does peel his gaze off the New York streets to peer at her as she talks, though, head tilted and allowing for a smile at her words. "I'm sorry about your house," he says. "But glad no one got hurt too awfully bad. If they're still up here by when I get back, maybe I'll visit, if you like."
"I'm sure my Dah'd like that. He's been asking after you. It angered him pretty fierce when he heard about what happened to the church" Having her family near, has sunk her back to some of the weird turns of phrase that people up here only hear in movies but it seems to suit the blonde. "I would ask you for another but, I dunno if you'd be obliging, or whether i'd really want to see what else god has up his sleeves for me. Some day, it'll be something good you think?"
She looks over, as much as driving in this weather allows her to.
"I'll see about visiting her. I gotta be careful because of the whole.. thing" that whole cops/homeland agents trailing, making sure a repeat of the other night doesn't happen. "You haven't seen Flint have you?" It's hopeful, something she hadn't asked Teo yet, mostly because she'd been busy and hadn't yet had time to thank him properly for picking out her dress. "Long shot, I know, really. But given that you're one of his friends" He might have surfaced. "Kick me if it's none of my business. Just, some things I needed to talk with him about. About, you know. The gift" She hadn't seen him at the gala, hadn't even known he was there or she might have tracked him down.
"So. Going home. What are you missing the most down there? Whats the first thing you're gonna do. Besides kiss the ground and pray that none of the trouble up here finds you down there huh?"
"If it finds me down there than they got an uphill hike ahead of 'em," Joseph mutters, a slight frown projected into his tea as he thinks on that notion for a second, before taking in a breath and letting it go. Can't be paranoid about everything. If walking home is dangerous and gets you kidnapped for a month, or filling out a form, then what's the use in trying to guess at it? "First thing I'm doing, is meetin' Claira." Which is supposed to be his favourite thing, what he misses most, but there's a note of tension in his voice that communicates otherwise. "She insisted on it, had me tellin' her the flight time and everything. She— "
A slightly crooked smile. "She just likes controllin' things, makin' sure everything goes smoothly. At least in her town. I can't fathom what she thinks of everythin' she's heard about New York now." He sips tea, bird-like.
"I did see Deckard, after that, uh. That casino thing y'all went to. So he's around. His phone's working, so all you gotta do is call him, or leave a message somewhere, I'm sure." Joseph bites his tongue against what his opinions might be on Abby meeting him, or not meeting him — almost like he doesn't want to meddle in case it's not the correct course of meddling. The edge of his thumb rakes absently against the rim of the paper cup. "Maybe another time. The vision, I mean. I still don't trust it, even if it did somethin' good for you."
"She's worried about you Joseph. I mean, I called her asking how your momma was, and she and I find out you were taken, and now this" Abigail points out quietly. "Separated you may be, I'm sure that doesn't mean that she doesn't care about you." Abigail's pink lips press together, taking the appropriate on ramp and into the express toll lane. "Just.. really, go easy on yourself, and easy on her. I can't profess to know what has happened between you both and who knows, maybe time apart was what you need? Or maybe.. the lord wills it otherwise. You won't know till you get there. But have faith, faith enough to believe that whatever happens, between you both, that maybe it's for the better yes?"
The vision thing is dismissed, not ready to actually handle another one. "I didn't know he was there.I wish he'd told me" This brings about a furrow of dark brows and a soft sigh. "Maybe he didn't let me know for a reason. He looked healthy at least? Maybe? It's gone. The gift. THe two of them, the healing and the … not healing. They came together and they're gone. No more. I think he's back to what he had before" She doesn't quite know, they're not talking yet.
"I know. He has his eyes back," Joseph says, with a nod. "He looked— yeah, he looked healthy. He said he was workin' security, at the casino thing, so I dunno. Maybe that might have somethin' to do with not lettin' you know. I haven't been able to get a good read on him. Or really much of anyone. But if being concerned for the well being of others is a healthy thing for him then it looks like it didn't just go away with that healing, right?"
Another glance towards her, as if something occurs to him, enough to make him smile and make the lines at his eyes press in deeper. "And you're worried too. You're sayin' all this so that if somethin' turns out not so great down there, I won't get worse."
"I always worry Joseph." She's even not calling him Pastor like she usually does in defiance of his wishes. The turn off is soon but she spares him a glance. "Am I not allowed to squeeze a bit of worry for you in with the other stuff? I mean really, you worry about me, I know you do, a little bit" She offers him a smile. "If you need to make a quick getaway, give me a call. I got a teleporter who I've been exercising lately." She resettles her grip on her wheel, following the flow of traffic, driving appropriately for the weather no matter how much it might irritate other drivers.
"I'd come down with you if I could. But the work and the.. stuff. You don't need that on your plate. But you just say the word, and i'll come running with the teleporter, and heck, even Deckard if I have to done track him down and glue gun him to me" She offers a wider smile to him then. "I hope you come back. I think… I think, that you have much still to do here Joseph. There's still a calling in your heart. It's just a little buried under everything, along with your words. Just might take a little bit of digging"
He's imagining hunkering down with Claire at an airport coffeeshop and resolving everything in an hour and turning right around and heading back. He's also imagining coming home and slotting so perfectly back into his life like maybe he never left, which wouldn't be so perfect, because he didn't leave it perfect. He's imagining the most awkward weekend of his life. "I don't imagine," Joseph asserts, after some hesitation, "that I'll need much in the way of back up. But thanks for the offer, or the. Gesture.
"I haven't been doing right by anyone. I know it's nothin' anyone expects but I guess it'd— be nice to have that expectation again. That maybe it's not okay that I leave my dog in the care of strangers' hands for however long, or that I don't offer visions, or that I haven't seen fit to try and get my church up and runnin'. Or going to see Emile Danko when other Ferrymen are tryna deal with him in my stead. But it's enough, for now, that you think there's more for me still to do."
He shifts a little further down in his seat, lets out a sigh. "I'd wanna meet that expectation."
"Then you know what you had to do then, don't you Pastor Sumter" The trip has gone faster than anticipated and there's parking to find. "It may not be okay to leave alicia in the care of strangers, or to take a break from offering god's insight, or letting others do for you what you can't or won't do yourself. But, sometimes" She takes the moment to pull up into the entrance to the appropriate car parking, grab a ticket to pop onto her dashboard before carrying on verbally and physicially with the car.
"But.. maybe… you need to follow where your feet are leading you and let your heart decide where you'll go. Even if it's just standing in one place. Sometimes, we have to stand in one place Joseph, to know where we need to go next. Maybe… backtracking a few steps, back to Clara and down south, will help you figure that out. That and.. just enough faith in yourself, yourself Joseph, will help you out?"
Convenient! someone's pulling out, close to the exit to walk to the terminal. "You just need faith. You know that, I know that. He knows that. Like it says on my side. Faith is the light, that will guide us through the dark"
In this weather, who wants to fly, anyway? Joseph's head tilts as he glances out and up at the sky he's meant to be hurtling through in a metal tube surrounded by strangers from which there is no escape. He's not a fan. Less of a fan of telling Claira that he arrived by teleporter. Joseph's gloved hand spiders on over the lidded cup with the last of his tea quickly cooling inside, and spares Abby a smile and a nod. The Flint Deckard school of responses — acknowledging silence.
It's probably not a case of Abby saying the wrong things. She isn't. They aren't. It's just how the right things sound, lately, platitudes whether printed on silk-fine pages or into the flesh of Baptists. He shuffles out of the car and into the cold, and the polite click of the passenger door behind him as he moves for where his luggage is stored serves as adequate punctuation for a mute response.
Somewhere on the airfield, a plane angles its silver nose towards the low sky to starshoot to some other corner of America. Away from New York City.