Date Posted:21:31:29 10/11/09 Sun Author:Page Subject: I really, really, really like this scene!! >>>> In reply to:
Debi
's message, "A day late..." on 10:15:51 10/11/09 Sun
>
>This bit is part old, but mostly new. Daniel and
>Valerie have spent an afternoon in St. Augustine, gone
>on a ghost walking tour (loads of fun, let me tell
>you!) and are on their way home.
>******
>“Where did we park?” Daniel asked, looking down the
>street in the gloom.
>
>“You can guide us out of the swamp on foot, but you’re
>having difficulty with a town.” Valerie took him by
>the hand. “This way, Columbus.”
Bwahaha! This is brilliant!
>She led him past the Hugenot Cemetery. It got quite
>dark once they left the pedestrian-only street and
>ventured down the sidewalk toward the large public
>parking garage. Daniel didn’t let go; instead he laced
>his fingers with hers. She felt the warm smoothness of
>the wedding band he still wore against her finger.
>Something almost made her ask him about it like she
>almost had a hundred times, but the same reticence
>held her back. If he wants to talk about it, he will.
>Instead, she brought up a different subject she’d
>meant to ask about.
Okay, first an observation: Why is it that every freakin' sidewalk leading to a parking garage is as dark as the inside of an undertaker's hat? I've noticed that, too!
I like the contrast here, of Daniel linking his fingers with hers, and the main thing she can feel is his wedding ring. I so identify with her here, too, wanting to ask about it (he's obviously attracted to Val, and lacing fingers together is much more romantic than just holding hands, but he's still wearing that ring!), but at the same time, not wanting to rock the boat. Well done!
>
>“Has Alan or Nessa invited you to Thanksgiving?”
>
>Daniel shook his head. “Not that I recall.”
>
>Valerie snorted. “They were probably leaving it to me
>to ask you along. So, would you like to come to the
>Roark Family Thanksgiving Dinner and Fish Fry?”
>
>“Fish fry?” he echoed, as their steps crunched over
>fallen oak leaves.
> He's obviously not been in the South too long...
>“Yes, this is a good, old-fashioned redneck holiday
>celebration. Fish fry, deep fried turkey, hush
>puppies, other things that can be cooked in hot oil.”
>She heard him utter a quiet laugh.
>
>“I’d love to come, though I’m a little afraid to ask
>what hush puppies are.”
>
>“Actual dog is not part of the recipe.”
LOLOLOL!!!
>“Well, that’s all right then, I think. Should I bring
>anything?”
>
>“Anything you want. There will be regular Thanksgiving
>food too, as well as barbecue and God knows what-all
>else. It’ll be family and friends and I hope we don’t
>frighten you too much.”
>
>She felt him squeeze her hand. “I don’t scare easily.”
>
>“You haven’t met the whole family yet, in one large,
>shambling herd.”
>
>“Good point. You still haven’t told me what I should
>bring.” He tugged at her hand in the dark to remind
>her.
> Very nice, the way he keeps reinforcing the fact that he's holding her hand!
>“Okay, how about your cooking skills and your
>masculine strength for manual labor? The gathering is
>going to be at the lake house so I could use all the
>help I can get. I’m cooking and setting things up.”
>
>“Just that?”
>
>“Well, if you feel obligated to contribute something,
>bring whatever you like. My family is notoriously
>ravenous, anything you contribute will be eaten, no
>matter what.”
>
>“Are you insinuating something about my cooking?”
She's hoping he doesn't decide to contribute a nice blood pudding. *shudder*
>Valerie sighed and dug her nails into the back of his
>hand lightly. “No, you’re an excellent cook. I’m
>saying that you don’t need to do anything fancy to
>impress my family’s indiscriminate palate. We are
>deep-frying about half the menu.”
>
>“Point taken.”
>
>As they turned from the parking garage back to the
>street in the orange glare of the sodium vapor lamps,
>Valerie sat back in the seat, glancing over at Daniel.
When I first read this, it threw me a bit. It took another read before I realized they were now in the car.
>
>“I liked the story about the Confederate soldiers in
>the Tolomato Cemetery.”
>
>“The ones whose graves got moved?”
>
>“Yes. Must be somewhat disconcerting to have lain in a
>place for many years, then unceremoniously have your
>maker moved but not your body.”
Marker?
>“You don’t actually believe all that stuff, do you?”
>The car slowed as they got into the left lane to turn
>onto Highway 16.
>
>Valerie opened the window a crack, drinking in the
>scent of the salt marshes and the cool night air. At
>his remark, she gave him a quick look. He didn’t seem
>to be mocking her, just curious. His eyes were on the
>road but they flickered toward her.
>
>“I don’t really know. I like to keep an open mind
>about things like ghosts and such, because I do
>believe that there are things that we aren’t meant to
>understand, not in this life.”
>
>“So you believe in multiple lives too?” His tone,
>while still not sarcastic, was tinged with disbelief
>nonetheless. Valerie considered challenging him on his
>attitude, but decided on a different tactic instead.
>
>“What do you believe in then?”
I like her reaction here. Turning the tables instead of direct confrontation.
>There were a few moments of silence. The lights became
>fewer and further between. She was almost ready to
>prompt him again when he started talking.
>
>“Mum and I went to church most Sundays, though when I
>moved away I didn’t really keep up with it. I believed
>what I had been taught, that when you died, you went
>to heaven or hell depending on what kind of life you
>led. But after being in Desert Storm and losing
>Cassie, I’m more inclined to believe that we all live
>through some heaven and hell right here, in this life,
>if you will. I don’t know what happens to us after we
>die anymore. But I’m not convinced that spirits hang
>around after death. I had rather the opposite
>experience.”
>
>Valerie sat quiet, listening. On the rare occasion
>when Daniel talked about his wife, she was reluctant
>to comment, afraid she’d break the spell and make him
>change the subject. She was sure it would only do him
>good to talk about her, get it out.
>
>“When Cassie died, I was sitting with her, holding her
>hand. Penny was asleep in the other chair in the room.
>Cassie had such a strong… presence, you could feel it,
>a sense of her spirit, I suppose. One minute, she was
>there, then, as she passed, it faded. All that was
>left of her was this empty… husk.” He pulled in a deep
>breath. Valerie was sure he’d stopped.
>
>“I mean, even her skin felt different. I can’t explain
>it, but, what was left behind, it wasn’t her anymore.
>She was gone.”
I really feel for him here. I can feel his desolation at what happened. One minute the woman he loved was there in the room with him, and the next instant, she was irrevocably gone forever. Poor Daniel!
>He was quiet for a moment, then leaned toward her. “So
>have you had a close encounter that has convinced you
>there’s life after death?”
>
>“I think close encounters refers to aliens, but no, I
>haven’t heard Spanish soldiers marching the floor or
>seen demonic faces peering from upper windows.”
>
>“What then?”
>
>“Well,” she began, “I think too many people have
>experienced similar unexplainable things to say that
>what they claim isn’t true.”
>
>“There’s more, isn’t there?” As always, his question
>wasn’t mocking or cynical; he seemed genuinely
>interested.
>
>“I guess.”
>
>“Come on. I bared my soul, now it’s your turn.”
>
>Valerie chuckled under her breath. “Fair’s fair, I
>guess.” Memory and loss made her throat close for a
>brief moment; she swallowed hard.
>
>“I guess it was right after Mom’s funeral. I still
>felt really guilty about not being there with her when
>she died, and I was still angry with Ben for not
>giving me the message right away, for his general lack
>of support, whatever else was pissing me off at the
>time. We’d had a big fight and, as usual, I was in bed
>alone.” A bemused grimace wrinkled her nose. “Come to
>think of it, he was probably off with Alexis, even
>then, but that’s another story.
>
>“Anyway, I was lying in bed, my emotions in knots and
>NOT looking forward to falling asleep, if I ever got
>that far. And then I heard Mom singing. Nothing
>specific or meaningful, just like she always did,
>whatever song she’d heard last on the radio, something
>to do with what she was doing, the theme song to
>something on TV, whatever. It was just like being home
>again. And the thing is, I think Taser heard her too.
>He was on the floor by the bed, head up, ears all
>perked up, listening. And so I fell asleep and,
>instead of waking up sweating and panting, I dreamed
>about her.” Valerie hunkered down into the seat,
>crossing her arms and tucking her hands in.
>
>“We were planting roses in the flower beds along the
>patio. She told me she was fine now, and I would be
>too eventually. Maybe she was trying to tell me about
>Ben and the upcoming divorce festivities.” A quiet
>snort came from the driver’s seat.
>
>“And then she squirted me with the water hose.” That
>got her a chuckle.
>
>“Your mum liked to play, hm?”
>
>Valerie smiled and nodded, even though it was dark.
>“She did. That’s why I think it really was her and not
>just a dream she happened to be in.” Sighing, she
>leaned her head back against the seat, trying to
>ignore the light prickle in her eyes and throat.
>
>“Remembering that dream helped get me through some
>hard times after that.” Another great sigh welled out,
>unbidden and she felt a warm hand cover hers. She
>turned her hand up to squeeze his in thanks.
This is so moving. I like the peace she got from the dream, the certainty that it was a message from her mom, and not just a dream. And I particularly like that it was a squirt from a water hose that made her believe it. It shows very definitively where Val gets her playful nature!
Great scene, Debi. Without them getting all mushy, they've been able to open up to each other about a serious subject, and to discuss painful memories. And through it all, I could feel the ease with which they communicated, and how comfortable they were with each other, even when they weren't so comfortable with what they were saying. Very, very well done!!
He's been in the South some years, but never really assimilated into the culture, until this point having his family around. Now that he's on his own, he's forced to explore alone, with the resultant culture clashes.
>
>>“Yes, this is a good, old-fashioned redneck holiday
>>celebration. Fish fry, deep fried turkey, hush
>>puppies, other things that can be cooked in hot oil.”
>>She heard him utter a quiet laugh.
>>
>>“I’d love to come, though I’m a little afraid to ask
>>what hush puppies are.”
>>
>>“Actual dog is not part of the recipe.”
>
>LOLOLOL!!!
I've actually had to explain this before...
>
>
>She's hoping he doesn't decide to contribute a nice
>blood pudding. *shudder*
LOL! Or any number of other oddities that an Englishman's kitchen might produce.
>
As they turned from the parking garage back to the
>>street in the orange glare of the sodium vapor lamps,
>>Valerie sat back in the seat, glancing over at Daniel.
>
>When I first read this, it threw me a bit. It took
>another read before I realized they were now in the
>car.
It's fixed. I realized that too when I re-read it. A little paragraph about finding the car and starting for home.
>>
>>“I liked the story about the Confederate soldiers in
>>the Tolomato Cemetery.”
>>
>>“The ones whose graves got moved?”
>>
>>“Yes. Must be somewhat disconcerting to have lain in a
>>place for many years, then unceremoniously have your
>>maker moved but not your body.”
>
>Marker?
Yes, thanks for the catch.
>
>>“What do you believe in then?”
>
>I like her reaction here. Turning the tables
>instead of direct confrontation.
Val's a bit like Katie; she doesn't like confrontation/conflict. Not the real kind anyway. Arguing with her siblings is a different story.
>
what was left behind, it wasn’t her anymore.
>>She was gone.”
>
>I really feel for him here. I can feel his
>desolation at what happened. One minute the woman he
>loved was there in the room with him, and the next
>instant, she was irrevocably gone forever. Poor
>Daniel!
I hope it rings true. I have, thankfully, never been in a position to understand his emotions. I can only imagine.
>
>This is so moving. I like the peace she got from
>the dream, the certainty that it was a message from
>her mom, and not just a dream. And I particularly
>like that it was a squirt from a water hose that made
>her believe it. It shows very definitively where Val
>gets her playful nature!
>
>Great scene, Debi. Without them getting all mushy,
>they've been able to open up to each other about a
>serious subject, and to discuss painful memories. And
>through it all, I could feel the ease with which they
>communicated, and how comfortable they were with each
>other, even when they weren't so comfortable with what
>they were saying. Very, very well done!!
>
>Hugs,
>Page
Thank you. I'm not a big person for mush, guess that's why I don't write it. I just want people to be people, with real feelings and real ways of expressing themselves. Although, if this were my Real Life we were talking about, it'd be my Dad that hosed me in the garden. He's still a big kid.
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