Always the same
It was always the same. Always the same. She couldn't remember how long that that had been her mantra. She stared at the sand in impotent rage; wanting to kick out at it, shatter it, wipe it from her sight, but that would be pointless. There was always more sand. All that the tantrum would accomplish would be scraped up feet , just further insult to skin already ravaged by sun and riddled with the bites of sand fleas. And just one more invitation of insult from the prince of paragons, Boone.
Hearing the companionable chatter of a party of survivors, she moved off further down the shore. She watched them from the corner of her eye, noticing that the tall one, Jen was still limping. Her friends, though, had their arms around her shoulders, supporting her efforts to wade into the water. Turning her back on the laughter and splashing, she turned toward the cover of the woods. As she sluffed through the sand, their seemingly benign laughter followed her; alienating her with its very friendliness, knowing that she wouldn't exactly be welcomed with open arms. It's not that they would openly scorn her, but there would be the awkwardness, the stiff formality that seemed to follow her. Her presence created the death of good times apparently. Just like always.
Okay, so she was pitying herself …. being worthless, as Saint Boone would say. But sometimes it just can't be helped. She wasn't a doctor like Jack, communications expert like Sayid, or whatever the hell it was that Kate was, so it's not like she had much to contribute. She could be called upon for scathing sarcasm, except that Sawyer, the Andy Griffith from hell, already had the job of resident smartass . She guessed she could run around trying to save people and failing miserably, but then Boone would feel his job threatened. That wasn't really fair though, Shannon supposed. He does mean well, after all, running around like a puppy trying to help his master but getting himself into trouble instead. If only he wasn't so sanctimonious! He never seemed to get the fact that she wasn't him, and wasn't interested in joining one of his endless crusades. But the more she tried to be herself, the more selfish she came across.
Moving along the tree line she paused at the sound of clipped voices. Looking through the branches of a wind bent tree, she could see the foreign, Korean couple arguing. Well the man was arguing, the woman just looked resigned. She recognized that look. The look that said it was easier just to agree, rather than try to prove them wrong. She recognized the vacant look that the woman had, just trying to tune out lecture. If only the woman spoke English, something tells her that they'd probably have something in common. But the woman was as trapped by circumstance as she was; no one understood either one of them. For the woman, it was language, but for Shannon, it was perception. It would do neither of them any good to scream … nobody would actually hear it anyway. The couple had apparently patched things up, meaning the man had deemed the lecture complete and was now offering the woman a flower. Sighing with resignation she moved on, keeping close enough to the beach to avoid the "thing" deeper in the jungle.
She had just settled down on a large boulder, perfect for brooding when something crashed out of the undergrowth behind her. Feeling her heart stop in fear, she was torn between relief and exasperation when all that emerged was the short blond that had been flirting with her for weeks now. Anticipating another amorous assault she covered her face in her hands to deflect his advances. But to no avail. Finding herself pinned under him, with no one to help, she gave up resisting and lowered her hands. Her capitulation was met with wet, awkward kisses and infatuated brown eyes. Pushing his face away, and scrubbing her hands over her face, she glared down at him half-heartedly. After all, he was the only one here that seemed to enjoy her company and listened to her without judging.
Too bad he was a dog.
"Vincent, knock it off. People will start to talk!" she chided him. With a muffled woof, he plopped down , resting his head on his paws and gazed up at her. "You don't want them to think that I actually have redeeming qualities, do you?" His only response was to twirl his eyebrows in a move that would make any teenage girl envious. Scratching his head, she stretched out her legs beside him. "What are you doing out here all by yourself? Did you leave the kid for me? Really, I don't want to be a home wrecker , you know".
Another eyebrow wiggle.
They sat together in companionable silence, with his head resting on her lap. Stroking the soft fur on his ears, she felt calmer, normal somehow. As if none of this had ever happened. A dog was normal, everyday stuff, not something to do with plane crashes or family squabbles. The dog had been following her for a while now, whenever it managed to get off the kid's leash. She still has no idea why the mutt had taken to her, of all people. After all, everyone stayed away, afraid of catching some kind of snob contamination. Thanks to Boone, everyone treated her like a spoiled brat. Well that was just fine with her. The less people interacted with her, the fewer people she would disappoint. Sometimes it was just easier to deal with people's low expectations of her. You tell a child that they are bad often enough, they come to believe it and become it. So too was the case with her. This was the role she was apparently given in life, so may as well stick with it. Whenever she tried to move away from that, things went wrong and she had to endure another round of head shaking, condescending interventions. Ultimately, that was why she ended up on the stupid plane anyway.
Vincent scratched frantically at something on his side then looked to her for help. "Don't look at me, Fido, I have just as many flea bites as you. You've come to the wrong place for sympathy". Still, she affectionately scratched the area, earning her a look of pure bliss and gratitude. "Your kid must be getting worried about you, now. Go on, you can visit me later. I don't want to responsible for making the kid cry." Waving the dog off in the direction of the woods, she dusted the sand off her shorts and started to walk away.
With a sharp yip, the dog sat down and stared at her. Lifting his front paw, he watched her expectantly.
"Okay, yes, you're a smart boy. Yes, we can shake. But it's time for you to go home now." Vincent took a few steps toward the jungle, stopped, looked over his shoulder at her and waited.
"What? Are you afraid to go by yourself all of a sudden? Surely you don't think I can protect you?" His only response was to sit down on his haunches and twirl those eyebrows again.
Unwilling to go back to the beach just yet, she sighed and said "You are really going to make me go in there with you, aren't you?" With a wag of his tail he stood and waited. "Okay, fine. You lead the way. But if that thing comes around, you're on your own, buddy. I'm running as fast as these legs can go". Seemingly unperturbed, the dog started off, keeping his pace slow enough that they could walk side by side.
Chatting away with the dog, Shannon couldn't help but find it amusing that she felt more companionship with this dog, than she did with her whole family. "Well Vincent, it seems that I've finally found someone who doesn't care that people think I'm a bitch". Vincent snorted in a canine version of laughter and she felt that had she been looking at his face, she'd have seen him roll his eyes at her pun. Smiling softly, she ambled along after him.
She could hear the sounds of the camp, even before they rounded the path to the caves. The funny guy, Hurley, was arguing with the skinny musician about the virtues of acoustic versus electric guitars. While she'd put faith in Charlie's knowledge, Hurley's wit alone would have made her side with him. How that guy kept such a happy go lucky attitude, she'd never know…. After all, golf? It was absurd and useless. And she loved it. Charlie, though was distracted by the pregnant girl Claire. Trying not to be obvious, and yet failing miserably, he kept looking over at her, checking to make sure she was napping peacefully. She wondered if Claire had a clue about Charlie's interest. With a sad shake to her head, she skirted around them, as Vincent walked and sniffed his way "home".
As her eye's adjusted to the dimmer light of the caves, she sighed at the cooler temperature. Bending down to tie her shoelace, she heard low chuckling off to her right. Jack and Superwoman Kate were talking by the waterfall. Shannon watched as they leaned toward each other, unconsciously mirroring each others body language as Jack helped her fill up her water bottles. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but smiled in spite of herself at their interaction. Jack said something that caused Kate to playfully punch his shoulder, eliciting a grin from him in return. Her smile slipping in renewed loneliness, she looked down as Vincent pushed his head under her hand for a scratch, offering her his own brand of affection.
"Vincent!"
She whirled at the shout and sound of pounding feet as the boy, Walt, tore himself away from a hassled looking Michael and embraced the dog. "Where have you been, boy? Why'd you run off? " He spoke to the dog, but Walt's earnest young eyes looked up at Shannon.
Suddenly feeling out of place and awkward, she hide behind her protective wall. Shrugging her shoulder, all she said was, "He was at the beach."
Turning to leave the questioning look of the cave dwellers, she only managed to take a few steps before hearing an all too familiar voice. "Shannon!" Amazing how he always managed to make her name sound like a curse. Settling her face into its haughty mask, she turned to him.
"Now what, Wonder Boy? Found a little baby monster you want me to help you heal?" she snapped at Boone.
"What were you thinking going off like that? Don't you have any sense? You do know the jungle is dangerous, don't you? Or did you forget that little bit of reality? Look at you! You didn't even bring any water bottles with you? Don't you ever think of anyone but yourself?"
Rolling her eyes in a way that Vincent would be proud of, she flicked a dismissive hand at Boone and walked off, trying to tune out the continuing diatribe, while avoiding the eyes of everyone around her. Boone turned away in disgust and went over to fill bottles. Seeing her chance to escape, she left the caves. Well, at least they'll have some fodder for the gossip mill, she thought to herself. Not that Boone chastising her was anything new.
After all, nothing ever changes. It was always the same.
Lost in her thoughts, she didn't hear the person behind her until he touched her arm. Whirling around, prepared to scorn Boone, she stopped mid rebuke.
"Thank you for bringing back my dog. That was nice of you."
Still smarting from Boone's set down, she looked down at Walt and said "Not really. I'm not nice, remember? I'm the selfish one."
Turning to leave, she heard Walt say solemnly. "I don't think so. Vincent likes you, and he doesn't like mean people." Stopping, she turned back to him. "And any friend of Vincent is okay with me", Walt continued emphatically. Having said his bit, he gave a decisive nod and sprinted back up toward the caves. Vincent remained there a moment longer. Lifting his paw at her, he gave a short bark of friendship. "Come on Vincent! Time to go! We can visit her tomorrow if you want, " Walt hollered from up the path. With a stretch and a shake, he bounded after Walt.
And Shannon was left on the path alone.
Well, maybe not everything stays the same.