Characters created by Bernie orginally for RP at D*, but readapted for original cannon.
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There was faded Dr. Pepper sign on the side of the general store, and a lone hound dog panting in the heat on the store’s front porch. Across the dusty square was a white Baptist church. Next to the church, a squat wooden shack with a crooked sign said “Hector’s Junction Post Office, Town Hall, Police Station”. An ancient, dusty Ford Crown Victoria police car was parked out front. The whole place seemed asleep. It was like something out of a movie set.
Beth Newburg got out of her rental car and walked up to the general store. The hound dog just kind of raised its head and watched her as she crossed the porch and let the screen door slam shut behind her. There was a man sitting behind the counter, tobacco stains on his shirt and a Faulkner novel in his hand.
Flags in the Dust. How appropriate, she thought. “Excuse me?”
“Yessem?” the man said, sitting up. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m looking for AJ Dawson,” she said. “Can you help me?” she asked.
“I think you found him,” a familiar voice said behind her. “But I’m not expecting anyone…”
She turned around, and there he was, wearing his white oxford shirt, kahki slacks and suspenders, just as she remembered him. His mouth dropped open an inch or two when he saw her.
“Jesus Christ and Gen’rl Jackson,” he breathed. “Beth.”
--
AJ came out of the store, the screen door slamming shut behind him, and handed her a glass bottle of coke, settling into the rocking chair next to her.
“Jesus, Beth, I never expected to see you here. What the hell are you doing here?” he asked.
“Looking for you, what the hell do you think I was doing here?” she retorted back at him. Damnit, I’m not going to cry, she told her self. “Why did you think I came all the way out here, to the middle of bloody no where?” she asked him. “I wanted to see you for myself.” She hesitated. “I wasn’t quite sure what to believe anymore.”
“You could have called,” AJ pointed out. “Saved you the trip. We’ve got phones now. Telephone lines and everything,” AJ pointed at the poles out by the street, the aww shucks earnestness a joke in itself, floating across his tone of voice like the notes of a half forgotten song.
“Really now,” she said. “Come a long way then, haven’t you?”
AJ nodded, grinning. “Come a long way since the days when my great-great-great granpappy held off Grant’s damn bluebellies with a handful of local militia.”
“Are you people ever going to let that one go?” Beth asked. “The war’s been over for what…a hundred and fifty years?”
“A hundr’n n’forty, give’r’take,” AJ corrected.
“Fine. A hundred and forty years then.” She was annoyed now. He did that to her.
“Nothing ever changes, here, Beth,” AJ said, gently now, softly conciliating, as he always did.
“Nothing?” she asked, looking at him, searching those damn perfect blue eyes. “Does anything ever change?”
He looked back at her, this idiot man, who’d dropped out of her life nearly four years ago, and then dropped of the face of the world for a full year – everyone thought he’d died! – the man that she still loved, despite it all.
“Sometimes,” he said, finally, reaching out between the rockers and taking her hand. “Sometimes, we get big changes.”
I ran over...sue me.
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There was faded Dr. Pepper sign on the side of the general store, and a lone hound dog panting in the heat on the store’s front porch. Across the dusty square was a white Baptist church. Next to the church, a squat wooden shack with a crooked sign said “Hector’s Junction Post Office, Town Hall, Police Station”. An ancient, dusty Ford Crown Victoria police car was parked out front. The whole place seemed asleep. It was like something out of a movie set.
Beth Newburg got out of her rental car and walked up to the general store. The hound dog just kind of raised its head and watched her as she crossed the porch and let the screen door slam shut behind her. There was a man sitting behind the counter, tobacco stains on his shirt and a Faulkner novel in his hand.
Flags in the Dust. How appropriate, she thought. “Excuse me?”
“Yessem?” the man said, sitting up. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m looking for AJ Dawson,” she said. “Can you help me?” she asked.
“I think you found him,” a familiar voice said behind her. “But I’m not expecting anyone…”
She turned around, and there he was, wearing his white oxford shirt, kahki slacks and suspenders, just as she remembered him. His mouth dropped open an inch or two when he saw her.
“Jesus Christ and Gen’rl Jackson,” he breathed. “Beth.”
--
AJ came out of the store, the screen door slamming shut behind him, and handed her a glass bottle of coke, settling into the rocking chair next to her.
“Jesus, Beth, I never expected to see you here. What the hell are you doing here?” he asked.
“Looking for you, what the hell do you think I was doing here?” she retorted back at him. Damnit, I’m not going to cry, she told her self. “Why did you think I came all the way out here, to the middle of bloody no where?” she asked him. “I wanted to see you for myself.” She hesitated. “I wasn’t quite sure what to believe anymore.”
“You could have called,” AJ pointed out. “Saved you the trip. We’ve got phones now. Telephone lines and everything,” AJ pointed at the poles out by the street, the aww shucks earnestness a joke in itself, floating across his tone of voice like the notes of a half forgotten song.
“Really now,” she said. “Come a long way then, haven’t you?”
AJ nodded, grinning. “Come a long way since the days when my great-great-great granpappy held off Grant’s damn bluebellies with a handful of local militia.”
“Are you people ever going to let that one go?” Beth asked. “The war’s been over for what…a hundred and fifty years?”
“A hundr’n n’forty, give’r’take,” AJ corrected.
“Fine. A hundred and forty years then.” She was annoyed now. He did that to her.
“Nothing ever changes, here, Beth,” AJ said, gently now, softly conciliating, as he always did.
“Nothing?” she asked, looking at him, searching those damn perfect blue eyes. “Does anything ever change?”
He looked back at her, this idiot man, who’d dropped out of her life nearly four years ago, and then dropped of the face of the world for a full year – everyone thought he’d died! – the man that she still loved, despite it all.
“Sometimes,” he said, finally, reaching out between the rockers and taking her hand. “Sometimes, we get big changes.”