Post by Lyall British on Feb 25, 2015 21:58:39 GMT -5
In the townhouse, a baby shower was happening for an unmarried woman who was expecting her second child. Her son was older and had been pulled into the foster care system when she was an unfit mother. Years later, she was finally clean and she was trying again. This was how it should have been with the first. There were female friends, bringing her gifts and laughing as they spoke. While the women talked and carried on, a thirty-six year old Lyall hid beneath the kitchen window outside, waiting for the party to be over.
They spoke of so many things. Their conversations went on long enough that he was laying on his side, listening to the earth whisper as they laughed and played baby shower games with each other. Everything was so very pink in that room. The kitchen window peered out to the scarce woods which would separate their townhouse from the next set of townhouse installations. There was a sharp hill and then a fence, creating the illusion of it being more private than it actually was. When the sun drifted low, visitors for the baby shower started to leave, wishing her well with kisses and laughter.
While she cleaned up the party with one of her friends helping her, he made his ascent up the side of the house. This was considerably easier than it would have been had there not already been a ladder propped up against the house. The handyman she had hired had left it there, intending to return the next day to finish his work so that the hammering wouldn't interrupt the party. Once he was on the second floor his fingertips caught the edge of the window screen and popped it out. He set it aside gently and climbed through the window of what was going to be a little girl's room.
More of the same pink. The room was clean and pristine since there was no child, no actual life, to put it in disarray. Quietly he wondered what it might have been like to grow up in such a kinda and giving circumstance. It was more than what he could have hoped for as a child. Slow steps took him through the room as he examined all the toys perfectly arranged, stopping at the empty crib with the neatly folded blankets. There was a stuffed rabbit sitting in the corner of it, looking like a triangular wedge with ears. Reaching over, he picked it up. Both hands gave it a squeeze before he smiled, examining the three buttons that went down its chest and the little plaid bow tie it had at the throat.
The decision was an impulsive one. Grasping the golden rabbit top button between two fingers, he plucked it off the rabbit and reached for the middle button of his coat, pulling it off. Lyall kept a needle and thread with him, it was one of the things he learned to do to survive some of the jobs he had been sent on. Sitting on the floor of the girl's bedroom, he sewed the button from his coat in the place of where the top button on the rabbit should have been. Once he managed to complete his sewing, he smiled and gave the rabbit a shake as if to test whether or not the stitches would hold. His button was larger, a polished black in comparison to the smaller, white buttons on the front of the rabbit. Twisting, the missing middle button between the duel rows of his double breasted coat was replaced with the rabbit's with a bit of patience and sewing. It wasn't much, he knew, but every time he looked down at his coat or put it on there would be that small reminder of her. Every time the child slept there would be a rabbit with a black button at the neck, just under the bow tie, for her.
"Happy baby shower, Alisha." He put the rabbit back in the crib when he stood up, winding the spool of thread with a circular winding of his right hand. The needle and thread disappeared into one of the pockets inside his coat. The room was strangely empty without a child crying or calling for someone. Or even a child sleeping soundly, snoring or just... the quiet breathing of someone else. Right now there was no one but him.
Beep.
Sometimes the landing was off by a few feet, sending him clattering to the floor of Alex's estate more harshly than usual. When he caught himself he was on his hands and knees, looking up at his employer who clipped, "Time's up. I need one or two days, though, before you next mission. Take a reprieve."
This was not unusual. Alex had him set to a timer and there were, at times, moments where he was not prepared to send him off by the time he returned. Those days were welcome. He spend them neither running in pursuit of something, or desperately trying to connect with his own life. It was the closest thing to 'vacation' that he could understand. Lyall grabbed the brim of his squat top hat and pulled it down, not saying anything as he got to his feet and crossed the room for the door. His stride, these days, had a bit of a limp to it. Getting around was starting to be harder and harder for him to do. Once he was in the guest quarters he fell on the bed and slept for a day. Upon waking the next, he began work on a project he did not know how to finish. It just seemed important to him that he start.
A journal, a plain, leather bound one like the one he carried except it was new, the pages not yet abused by him. He leaned forward, pausing just before the ink hit the page. Then, he started writing as if the thoughts had been there all along.
Dear Alisha,
I do not know you yet, but I know your mother dressed your room in more pink than any girl ever deserves. I know that there isn't a father for you when you come to this world, not the way most little girls have fathers. I know that you are a strong and beautiful woman and that it has to come from somewhere.
I don't know what everything means, just that I want to know you better. I want know what sort of person you became and why. Even though you were mad at me when we met, even though I was never a father for you growing up, I could tell you were someone worth knowing.
Tonight I took a button from a stuffed rabbit in your crib and exchanged it with one from my coat. I needed that from you, I don't know why.
Lyall
They spoke of so many things. Their conversations went on long enough that he was laying on his side, listening to the earth whisper as they laughed and played baby shower games with each other. Everything was so very pink in that room. The kitchen window peered out to the scarce woods which would separate their townhouse from the next set of townhouse installations. There was a sharp hill and then a fence, creating the illusion of it being more private than it actually was. When the sun drifted low, visitors for the baby shower started to leave, wishing her well with kisses and laughter.
While she cleaned up the party with one of her friends helping her, he made his ascent up the side of the house. This was considerably easier than it would have been had there not already been a ladder propped up against the house. The handyman she had hired had left it there, intending to return the next day to finish his work so that the hammering wouldn't interrupt the party. Once he was on the second floor his fingertips caught the edge of the window screen and popped it out. He set it aside gently and climbed through the window of what was going to be a little girl's room.
More of the same pink. The room was clean and pristine since there was no child, no actual life, to put it in disarray. Quietly he wondered what it might have been like to grow up in such a kinda and giving circumstance. It was more than what he could have hoped for as a child. Slow steps took him through the room as he examined all the toys perfectly arranged, stopping at the empty crib with the neatly folded blankets. There was a stuffed rabbit sitting in the corner of it, looking like a triangular wedge with ears. Reaching over, he picked it up. Both hands gave it a squeeze before he smiled, examining the three buttons that went down its chest and the little plaid bow tie it had at the throat.
The decision was an impulsive one. Grasping the golden rabbit top button between two fingers, he plucked it off the rabbit and reached for the middle button of his coat, pulling it off. Lyall kept a needle and thread with him, it was one of the things he learned to do to survive some of the jobs he had been sent on. Sitting on the floor of the girl's bedroom, he sewed the button from his coat in the place of where the top button on the rabbit should have been. Once he managed to complete his sewing, he smiled and gave the rabbit a shake as if to test whether or not the stitches would hold. His button was larger, a polished black in comparison to the smaller, white buttons on the front of the rabbit. Twisting, the missing middle button between the duel rows of his double breasted coat was replaced with the rabbit's with a bit of patience and sewing. It wasn't much, he knew, but every time he looked down at his coat or put it on there would be that small reminder of her. Every time the child slept there would be a rabbit with a black button at the neck, just under the bow tie, for her.
"Happy baby shower, Alisha." He put the rabbit back in the crib when he stood up, winding the spool of thread with a circular winding of his right hand. The needle and thread disappeared into one of the pockets inside his coat. The room was strangely empty without a child crying or calling for someone. Or even a child sleeping soundly, snoring or just... the quiet breathing of someone else. Right now there was no one but him.
Beep.
Sometimes the landing was off by a few feet, sending him clattering to the floor of Alex's estate more harshly than usual. When he caught himself he was on his hands and knees, looking up at his employer who clipped, "Time's up. I need one or two days, though, before you next mission. Take a reprieve."
This was not unusual. Alex had him set to a timer and there were, at times, moments where he was not prepared to send him off by the time he returned. Those days were welcome. He spend them neither running in pursuit of something, or desperately trying to connect with his own life. It was the closest thing to 'vacation' that he could understand. Lyall grabbed the brim of his squat top hat and pulled it down, not saying anything as he got to his feet and crossed the room for the door. His stride, these days, had a bit of a limp to it. Getting around was starting to be harder and harder for him to do. Once he was in the guest quarters he fell on the bed and slept for a day. Upon waking the next, he began work on a project he did not know how to finish. It just seemed important to him that he start.
A journal, a plain, leather bound one like the one he carried except it was new, the pages not yet abused by him. He leaned forward, pausing just before the ink hit the page. Then, he started writing as if the thoughts had been there all along.
Dear Alisha,
I do not know you yet, but I know your mother dressed your room in more pink than any girl ever deserves. I know that there isn't a father for you when you come to this world, not the way most little girls have fathers. I know that you are a strong and beautiful woman and that it has to come from somewhere.
I don't know what everything means, just that I want to know you better. I want know what sort of person you became and why. Even though you were mad at me when we met, even though I was never a father for you growing up, I could tell you were someone worth knowing.
Tonight I took a button from a stuffed rabbit in your crib and exchanged it with one from my coat. I needed that from you, I don't know why.
Lyall