NEWCOMER MINGLE
The ferry makes a soft landing against the jetty as it has done every few days throughout summer. Aina the ferry captain, usually wearing the proud orange short sleeve of the Kollo project, has bundled up in a black wind proof jacket. The island administrator Olivia has made no such compromises, determined to cling to summer as long as possible. She greets the newcomers with a smile, handing out brochures and showing them the way to the cabins.
Around noon there'll be a small get together to welcome the new arrivals. Nothing too fancy, though the blueberry pie that's being served is almost certainly homemade and made with blueberries picked from this very island. Coffee, tea and apple cider is also available.
A FARMERS LIFE FOR ME
It's harvesting season on Norrhamn and for once, plenty of free workers to go around... right? Those who venture up to the farm will find themselves roped into the activities by hook or by crook - doesn't matter if you got farming experience, there's always something you can do. Roofs need to be patched, hay needs to be baled, vegetables picked and fruit preserved for the long, cold, harsh, dark winter that's just around the corner.
Your work won't be in vain though. If you stick with it and stay until the evening, Einar and his family will treat their volunteers to a feast to show their appreciation. There will be such autumn delicacies as värmlandskorv, kroppkaka with salted pork and lingonberry jam, and fried salted herring with pickled cucumber and red onions on crisp bread. Stay really late and we're breaking into the good snaps, my friend. ]
The golden boy, milkin' cows and shovelin' shit -- this I gotta see.
[ he smirks, looking over at john. but his expression softens when he does and his demeanor shifts. little john, all grown up and trying to do right. it makes him glad, knowing that after everything...john really was trying. that something good came down off that mountain. ]
[ John blushes -- he knows the whole 'golden boy' thing is definitely sarcastic, but when it's coming from Arthur it's hard not to take it for a compliment. The acknowledgement he's getting from Arthur in the last few minutes is more than he ever could've dreamed. It's all he ever wanted, really. ]
Ah... I'm doin' my best.
[ Gosh, he doesn't know what to do with this much praise. From Arthur of all people!! ]
[ John is still a little blown away, it's been a years and years since he had pie, and even then, the last time it was probably stolen. Taking a bite, John's face splits into a grin. ]
Jesus, I would've started ranching a lot sooner if I knew I could get food this good.
Don't gotta be a baker to know flour's made from wheat, Little John.
[ he takes back everything nice he said he should've stuck around to teach this idiot more things. it strikes him as sad -- not that he isn't there to teach him anymore, but that this was the education they'd been given. by life. by dutch. how to shoot a gun and rob a bank. how to catch a horse and how to find a defensible space. but all the trappings of real, honest life? those lessons had all been left out. no wonder they'd never had a real hope of escaping for so long.
arthur looks down at his coffee, lost in thought. melancholy. he doesn't want to think poorly of dutch, even now, but how can he not? look at what he'd done to john. ]
[ He maybe didn't know that. Someone must've told him though, right? It just never stuck. John always paid attention to the important stuff. The stuff he needed to know to survive—which is to say, all the stuff needed to be an outlaw. The rest of it he's had to learn as an adult. It certainly didn't make taking to Jack very easy.
Now Arthur's making that face and John can't help but guess who Arthur's thinking about. Really, John resents Dutch for a lot of things. Leaving him in jail, leaving him for dead... Twice. But it's the only life he's known so he can't exactly blame him for this. Hosea tried to get John to read more and care about those things, but John was just always better at stealing and shooting than reading and writing. Lot of good those skills'll do him in the civilized world. John stands up a little straighter, taking another bite of his pie. ]
I wasn't completely off, see? It's probably easier to buy flour than make it, anyhow.
[ arthur shrugs, laughing a little to ease off on the tension. making stuff...it's hard. john's right. on the other hand: ]
Now that we're here, though, I reckon we got plenty of time to make pie or whatever the hell we feel like making. Can you imagine it? Two of us, baking?
[ He shrugs. Easier to steal it, too, but he's trying not to think like that anymore. Arthur's laugh makes it easy to smile along, too. John chuckles. ]
Hell, if Pearson can do it, it can't be that hard, can it?
[ ah, yes, the journal. he smiles a little sadly to see it. he's got one of his own - don't ask me, if he got to bring a bag here from the afterlife he can have a copy of his journal too i don't make the rules. ]
You kidding? Your writin's a whole lot better than those books Hosea used try and get me to read.
[ Is that saying much though? I mean, it is if you ask John. ]
Plus your writing feels like... well, it feels like you. When I was reading it, I...
[ Oh, he's getting sad again. How many times did he read and reread Arthur's journal, after he was gone? How many days... John blinks back the tears and bites his lip to keep from embarrassing himself. Maybe he should grab another piece of pie. ]
[ now he's somehow embarrassed and yet flattered all at once. and the way john talks...no, there's no way that he means it like that. john's just emotional after what happened, and after all the time that passed.
arthur clears his throat awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. ]
Let's just -- let's just not talk about it, shall we? Really didn't think anyone'd be readin' it, let alone you -- [ he might have left out some of the more emotional things he wrote about john if he had, rip ] so it's best if we just. You know. Leave it.
[ before he dies again, this time of deep embarrassment because john knows all his most private secrets and the fact that he's way smarter than he pretends. ]
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[ he smirks, looking over at john. but his expression softens when he does and his demeanor shifts. little john, all grown up and trying to do right. it makes him glad, knowing that after everything...john really was trying. that something good came down off that mountain. ]
You're really making something out of your life.
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Ah... I'm doin' my best.
[ Gosh, he doesn't know what to do with this much praise. From Arthur of all people!! ]
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[ they make it back, though, so arthur goes to get some more coffee and put john in the general direction of pie. ]
You gotta try this.
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[ John is still a little blown away, it's been a years and years since he had pie, and even then, the last time it was probably stolen. Taking a bite, John's face splits into a grin. ]
Jesus, I would've started ranching a lot sooner if I knew I could get food this good.
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[ who knows how long homemade pie will last you gotta embrace it while you have it ]
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Bet they worked hard to make this. Picking berries, gathering the... I dunno, is it flour? Flour's for making pie, right?
[ Sweet baby John... [
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Gatherin' flour. That's you idea of how pie is made.
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That's what the crust's made out of, right? Jeez, I ain't no baker, I don't know.
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[ he takes back everything nice he said he should've stuck around to teach this idiot more things. it strikes him as sad -- not that he isn't there to teach him anymore, but that this was the education they'd been given. by life. by dutch. how to shoot a gun and rob a bank. how to catch a horse and how to find a defensible space. but all the trappings of real, honest life? those lessons had all been left out. no wonder they'd never had a real hope of escaping for so long.
arthur looks down at his coffee, lost in thought. melancholy. he doesn't want to think poorly of dutch, even now, but how can he not? look at what he'd done to john. ]
You're right it's made out of flour, though.
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[ He maybe didn't know that. Someone must've told him though, right? It just never stuck. John always paid attention to the important stuff. The stuff he needed to know to survive—which is to say, all the stuff needed to be an outlaw. The rest of it he's had to learn as an adult. It certainly didn't make taking to Jack very easy.
Now Arthur's making that face and John can't help but guess who Arthur's thinking about. Really, John resents Dutch for a lot of things. Leaving him in jail, leaving him for dead... Twice. But it's the only life he's known so he can't exactly blame him for this. Hosea tried to get John to read more and care about those things, but John was just always better at stealing and shooting than reading and writing. Lot of good those skills'll do him in the civilized world. John stands up a little straighter, taking another bite of his pie. ]
I wasn't completely off, see? It's probably easier to buy flour than make it, anyhow.
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[ arthur shrugs, laughing a little to ease off on the tension. making stuff...it's hard. john's right. on the other hand: ]
Now that we're here, though, I reckon we got plenty of time to make pie or whatever the hell we feel like making. Can you imagine it? Two of us, baking?
[ wild ]
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[ He shrugs. Easier to steal it, too, but he's trying not to think like that anymore. Arthur's laugh makes it easy to smile along, too. John chuckles. ]
Hell, if Pearson can do it, it can't be that hard, can it?
[ Famous last words. ]
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[ Oh, John, you are gonna drop so many egg shells when making omelettes. ]
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[ he doesn't believe in them at all ]
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[ He can write it down in his journal! Which.......... oh, yeah. John goes into his bag and pulls out that very same journal. ]
You mind if I keep this? 'cause I kinda been writing in it for a while now.
[ He's already wearing your hat, Arthur... ]
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Depends. You gonna let me read it?
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Hell no. And let you see my handwriting? I ain't got a way with words like you do, Arthur.
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[ but his tone is light, he wouldn't push it, not really. ]
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Just never seemed all that important, when we was living on the run, you know?
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[ john must have read his journal by now, which is a little -- actually, a lot -- embarrassing, so he knows how much effort he put into it. ]
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[ He read it. He sure did.... but honestly, it just made him appreciate Arthur that much more, so there's that. ]
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[ he's blushing??? ]
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You kidding? Your writin's a whole lot better than those books Hosea used try and get me to read.
[ Is that saying much though? I mean, it is if you ask John. ]
Plus your writing feels like... well, it feels like you. When I was reading it, I...
[ Oh, he's getting sad again. How many times did he read and reread Arthur's journal, after he was gone? How many days... John blinks back the tears and bites his lip to keep from embarrassing himself. Maybe he should grab another piece of pie. ]
It's good. Real good, is what I'm trying to say.
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arthur clears his throat awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. ]
Let's just -- let's just not talk about it, shall we? Really didn't think anyone'd be readin' it, let alone you -- [ he might have left out some of the more emotional things he wrote about john if he had, rip ] so it's best if we just. You know. Leave it.
[ before he dies again, this time of deep embarrassment because john knows all his most private secrets and the fact that he's way smarter than he pretends. ]
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