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. ]
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. ]
[ Whoops, there is that. Can't hide who you really are from John now, can you, Arthur. ]
Yeah, alright. [ John nods his head, tipping his hand if only to find an excuse to hide his face for a bit and regain his composure. ] I won't mention it.
[ He could probably tease Arthur for some of the stuff he read in there, but honestly, he's not about to ruin the moment and make Arthur regret that he's letting him keep the notebook at all. ]
Blueberry pie and ranching... [ John smiles. Talk about shifting his goals. He'll get back Abigail and Jack once he's made something of himself -- and if he needs any more inspiration, well, Arthur is here. Arthur can help him.
[ See, sometimes, when you spend seven years on your own with your family, you grow up a little bit. Just a liiittle bit, but it's there. And really, John wouldn't wanna waste a chance to spend time with Arthur again. This could all turn out to be a dream and John'd still be okay with it. ]
Good.
[ He smiles. Sorry, Arthur, he's still pretty starstruck, seeing you alive. ]
Did they put you up in some cabin too? Maybe we can see if we're neighbors.
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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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Yeah, alright. [ John nods his head, tipping his hand if only to find an excuse to hide his face for a bit and regain his composure. ] I won't mention it.
[ He could probably tease Arthur for some of the stuff he read in there, but honestly, he's not about to ruin the moment and make Arthur regret that he's letting him keep the notebook at all. ]
Blueberry pie and ranching... [ John smiles. Talk about shifting his goals. He'll get back Abigail and Jack once he's made something of himself -- and if he needs any more inspiration, well, Arthur is here. Arthur can help him.
Arthur. Goddamn, who'dve thought? ]
Think I'll like it here.
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Me too.
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Good.
[ He smiles. Sorry, Arthur, he's still pretty starstruck, seeing you alive. ]
Did they put you up in some cabin too? Maybe we can see if we're neighbors.
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