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Posted: Jan 9th, 2007 at 06:33 pm
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Sofie leaned forward in her seat for a moment as if to peer out the window farther than looked back at Ben. "Shit! We're stuck here ain't we?" She let her gaze linger on him, her attention fixated for the first time that evening. She lifted a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear and after a silent moment leaned back into the bench seat again. "I've seen you," she finally uttered, straining to be heard over the roar of the rain on the roof of the truck. "I din't know it at first, but I've seen you, in dreams, in a place like this. I don' know what it means, I don' know where it came from but it's almost like a memory, some old and fleetin' memory that I can' quite place." She looked at him as if to ask if he understood, and in the flash of the overhead lightning a silent moment passed between them and the abrupt realisation on her face had slipped away into vague wondering.
"I don' know what's happenin' but I don' think you dragged me into anythin' I wasn't already in. After Momma died, it all changed, everythin' seemed diff'rent, I saw things, heard things." She smiled very slightly, almost cynically, and returned her gaze to the field. "Sounds crazy don't it... I never told anyone but you, I never told anyone anything since Momma." She shook her head to herself and didn't know why she was still rambling at him. She felt like she had nothing to tell, anything about her time with Justin wouldn't matter, he'd made it perfectly clear once before that he didn't care for him, and as the dreams came clearer, as her mind relaxed and pieces tried to come together, she doubted Justin's intentions more. The way he had seized her on the porch, the way he had spoken to her, it was all wrong.
Maybe you were right 'bout it, 'bout New Canaan, 'bout Brother Justin. I don' know what to think anymore, I don' know what to do." Again she directed her attention back to him as if seeking answers in the drowning pools of his blue eyes, as if she might peer into the very core of him. Ah but there were more important things afoot, for instance, what now with they two stranded in a quagmire of a corn field and with a storm blowin' in. "Maybe we should ride it out here..." she mused absently.
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Ben
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Posted: Jan 11th, 2007 at 03:03 pm
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Ben really wasn't sure where else to go. They could get out of the car and follow the trail of collapsed cornstalks (from the squabble in the car), back to the main road, but what good would that do? No matter what, they were stranded in the middle of nowhere. It seemed both of them had calmed down over the idea of returning to New Canaan. Heck, they wouldn't be going there anytime soon in this weather, let along any place else as well.
He glanced over at Sofie as she spoke about the dreams. She'd only opened up to him once before, and that was also in the car (imagine that) back when she was still in the carnival. The two of them were conversing in a very similar more comfortable way once again, and Ben was greatful for that. He wasn't one to blubber out about how much he appreciated that Sofie was sharing her secrets with him, etc. The not-so-awkward silence was sort of a given to that matter.
"Don't sound so crazy," he finally murmurred. He'd told Sofie about his dreams about Brother Justin. At the time, she didn't believe him. But at least they had a similar relation in that sense. Ben almost wanted to say, "Yes. I know I was right. I knew it all along!" But that wasn't in his nature at all. Moreso, was the sense of relief that she was finally coming to her OWN senses.
Ben was silent for another moment. He watched the droplets of water practically expand, coming down even heavier than before on the windshield. Now that both of them had calmed down, he wanted to explain to her so many things. The thought that she may have killed Jonesy still haunted his mind, but he wasn't an idiot. Ben knew there was something else going on here, something not quite right.
"I aint told you this before," he quietly, almost nervously began suddenly, breaking the silence. "I can do things I..." He trailed off, realizing that wasn't the correct way to word it. Typically, before, he was forced to demonstrate his powers due to some critical situation (Ruthie, Jonesy, etc.). That's the only way the other carnies found out.
"That night before all us left," he began once more, dating back to the carnival's final night in New Canaan. "Samson set up that old healin' tent but it was for real this time. I can't heal people, but I can take one life and put it in 'nother's." He paused, realizing he wasn't making much sense, but it wasn't something that could exactly be explain in words, though the events that took place that night were clear is day.
"I used it against that preacher. Takin' his life away and healin' others and then all hell broke lose." He openly admitted, concluding that the plan didn't work out exactly the way it was planned. "I thought I killed him but I keep havin' those dreams that he's still there."
That was the longest explanation he'd given anyone in a long time. At least since his father or management were around. Now however, things were different. Somehow, Sofie was involved, and he had a feeling, she wasn't going to be excluded form the deal anytime soon.
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Posted: Jan 11th, 2007 at 03:28 pm
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"The healin' tent?" She peered at him again quizzically and her mind drifted back to the rukus he'd made back in Tipton, how the people wailed as the flocked around him in the midway. the pieces all seemed to fit, to fall into place as if she should have already known. "You're the one..." she whispered to herself, peering out of the window. The words of her mother made only a little more sense now, but they meant more. But, the one what exactly? She peered back at him again, leaning her head back against the glass of the side window. The moisture in the air and the outside drop in temperature was serving to steam up the windows in the cab, and it felt muggy and humid. "I don' know. I think that, somehow you an' me's connected maybe." She waved a hand dismissively again as she mused mostly to herself. The moment in the alleyway back in Loving, NM came to her and she frowned thoughtfully.
"Every Prophet in her House." She finally said, looking at him as if maybe he might make sense of it, might know it, might have answers. She repeated the phrase, quietly this time and pursed her lips slightly in thought. "I keep hearin' it. I don' know what it means. Some rube in a suit said it to me back in loving, and then I looked up again an' he was gone, jus' like that." She looked down at her bluish hands again and shook her head faintly. "I feel like I'm missin' somethin' important, some memory that makes it all fit t'gether, somethin' that means somethin', somethin' bad." She coiled her hand and pressed the backs of her knuckles to her lips as her gaze drifted outside again. That creeping sensation traversed her spine again and her stomach lurched precariously. the wave of nausea sent the hot and cold prickles up over her face again and she made some noise of faint moaning in protest. "I don' feel so hot." She mumbled, fumbling absently for the doorhandle.
She released herself out into the deluge and stumbled a few steps away from the truck before slipping to her knees and hunching over as if she might throw up. The rain was soothing against her face and it seemed almost instant that she was soaked through to the bone. Rivulets of cool water ran down through her hair and over the contours of her face. She took a deep and steadying breath, her hands pressed into the thick and engulfing mud. She looked up to watch the sway of the corn and again er stomach lurched so that she hung her head again, her breathing laboured, her mouth watering in warning. The prickles ran over her again and she wished it would just get over and done with. "Shit." She whispered to herself, angry at her body's reaction to the bizarre memories and feelings.
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Ben
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Posted: Jan 11th, 2007 at 11:36 pm
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When they first ran into each other in Troy a couple of hours ago, Ben was confused beyond belief. He didn't know why Sofie was there, suddenly aiming to get as far away from New Canaan as possible. Then to add onto that, she had the dagger in her apron pocket. Not to mention, she shot (and obviously aimed to kill) Jonesy at some point. Now, things were slowly coming together. The whole deal still didn't make much sense, but bits and pieces were merging now, to display an overall semi-sensicle picture.
Ben listened to her intently, the storm seemed to be muted out as she carried on. As she spoke the words, "Every prophet in her house," however, a sudden slue of memories washed over him. Everything else she was saying seemed to fade away for a moment. He could still hear the low murmur of her voice in the background, but everything else seemed to blur out.
It was as if a collaboration of memories were flying by, attempting to come together, the final piece was out in the open, but he still couldn't fathom the outcome.
Raising the dagger over Brother Justin, the ashes of Sofie's trailer, her mother approaching him that one night (walking toward him), the dream in the diner, Sofie's baptism, her cards and once again, the words echoed... "Every prophet in her house."
Did she have some relation to all of this? There would be no other way, unless she was dreaming of a past or future that wasn't even her own. After all, she did say she had dreams of him. But why would she unless there was a connection between them?
When Ben snapped out of it, Sofie had left the vehicle. He retreated one hand to his head, rubbing his temples. Then, he promptly swung the door open and ran out into the rain. His tattered shoes sunk into the muddy cornfields as he made his way toward her. "Sofie," he called out restlessly. "I know you aint gonna like what I'm about to say but," he bit back his words, as if trying to think of another way. "Can you read those cards again?"
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Posted: Jan 11th, 2007 at 11:53 pm
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The nausea was overwhelming, and very unbecomingly she heaved into the thicket of wavering corn stalks. She hadn't eaten in some time she realised, and the bile was acrid and sharp against her throat. She coughed, crouched over as if she's been his in the stomach. She heard his approach from behind, and wiping her mouth with her apron she fell back to sit on her heels and peered up at him. Thunder cracked overhead and she almost flinched at the nearness of it. She peered up at the sky warily then back to his face. Not going to like what he had to say. Her face was sullen as the question was put forth and for a moment she seemed not to react at all. The thought or reading them, of seeing those things again! She shuddered lightly remembering what the apparition of her mother had told her the last time she had touched them. It was always you that read the cards.
"You're kiddin' me right..." She rasped over a now coarse throat. "Read the cards?" She couldn't see too much harm in it aside from the visions. Since the night she'd seen the woman holding her dead daughter, she'd been shaken. her mother had always told her the reading up until then, and seeing those things for herself was utterly disturbing.
"Uh, I don' know 'bout that." She shook her head lightly as she spoke and awkwardly managed to struggle to her feet in the increasingly thickening mud. her legs were coated with the rust coloured earth but as the sky rained down on them the rust colour faded in rivulets. She shook her head again and peered at him with a squinting face to keep the rain out of her eyes. "Why, why'd you want me to read them again. I... uh..." She was trying to think of some reason why she couldn't, but could find no excuse, aside from the fact that she was vaguely curious herself to begin with.
She sighed as she looked at him, slouching her weight mostly to one foot. "Fine, you get us out o'this swamp and I'll read the damn cards." She didn't look happy about it though as she approached him by a few steps. She paused to turn her face up to the sky, her mouth open, collecting the dust laiden raindrops. She rinsed her mouth briefly then spat the water off to the side. "Better still, you get us out o'here and to somewhere where I can get somethin' to eat and I'll read 'em." her body was protesting suddenly at her lack of having eaten for some time, making her legs feel shaky under her though she didn't express it outwardly.
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How Many Roads...: Troy, CA - (Read 526 Times)
