She turned to slam the shaky car door, and the whole truck shook and convulsed like an elderly man. In the back, two medium-sized suitcases and a few paper grocery bags with the name of a supermarket most had never heard of. Gentle murmurs came from the children and their parents, and Marlin decided that the drawn out silence sounded more like a cool mixture of awe and fear than excitement.
Takakura, in his old age, took her thin hand gently and shook it with a small smile. This gesture from such a gruff old man was strange, almost sweet. Marlin wished he could just leave now; this girl meant absolutely nothing to him and the Siberian wind bit at his skin. Home sounded abnormally nice right now.
"Eleanor, welcome-"
"Uncle T," the girl interrupted and made a face, the sort of look a young child makes when something of foul smell reaches them. It couldn't be the sweet valley air, no. "Eleanor is my mother. Just El. Always El."
Marlin laughed mentally. What constitutes as checking someone out? he wondered. There's wasn't much to see; the girl was thin, with an almost boy-like figure. Nothing was striking or breath-taking about her. Big brown eyes, moon-shaped nose, small mouth, long brown hair pulled out of her unevenly tanned face. Marlin had seen so many women who fit this description it nearly made him sick.
The only thing that was noteworthy in Marlin's mind was the passionate amount of energy this girl had. Oh, she tried to hide it, he could tell. But her body nearly vibrated when she was still. When stillness could not be achieved, her movements were quick, biting, demanding. She talked with her whole body. Her whole petite body.
The congregation chattered excitedly. Everything was asked, from her most recent memory of her father's farm to her favorite color. El seemed overwhelmed by how easily they met her energy and vigor, and she excitedly gave back. The more she gave to them, the more was given back. Her hand was shaken at least twice by every villager, her head patted a few times by the older folk, and a playful pinch on the rear by Rock, which was returned with a impish smile and a disapproving glance from Uncle T, as she so casually put it.
...
Eventually, as the excitement wore down and sleepy children began rubbing their eyes and drifting to sleep, and families departed with smiles and waves. The younger, single adults, not ready for the excitement to end, made their way to the bar. El was the guest of honor, and drinking was a fun game for those with no children.
The Blue Bar reminded El of a cool cave. It was dark with a light breeze from the overhead fan. It smelled like smoke and shame, a ruthless mix. Bottles of shiny liquor armed the walls, like trophies of battles won. No one won those battles, of course. To her, Muffy smelled like the bar too; musky and cool. Of course, she wouldn't let her know that.
Man, this Griffin guy is smooth, El thought. I'm surprised he hasn't knocked up Muffy yet. She smiled a little and kept her eyes on the smooth liquid in the glass in front of her. Muffy swore it was worth drinking, and El had no mind to argue with her.
Griffin continued to slide drinks across the bar. El drank whatever he gave her; being picky when it came to alcohol wasn't something she was known for back in the city. To be honest, the things she had been known for in the city made her ashamed. This thought, in turn, made her drink more than she thought she would have tonight. She downed one after another, Griffin only noticing the amount of liquor she'd consumed when he'd pour her some more. She counted the amount she consumed.
1..2..3..4..5..6..
Marlin's interest in the scene faltered quickly. Celia wasn't a drinker, no. She had gone home hours ago and Marlin wondered if she had gotten home safe. Of course she had, Vesta was with her. He shook his head a little. Griffin pulled a pack of stale cigarettes out of his cotton shirt's pocket.
"Can I.." Marlin pointed nonchalantly to the cardboard package Griffin held.
"Thought you quit." Griffin glanced at Marlin and looked away as he lit his first and leaned against the back wall.
"Guess not." Marlin grunted. Griffin handed him one as well and lit it for him. He took a drag and tried to mask his cough. The doctors promised ,he thought bitterly. They promised the valley air would make the coughing stop. They told me the sickness would subside. Bullshit. Fucking shit.
"What?"
Marlin looked up with his cigarette hanging out of his mouth. El was looking at him with an intensity, a sort of stabbing worry in her large eyes. He raised his eyebrows.
"Huh?" He mumbled through his cigarette, unaware he had even said one word to her all night.
"Oh. You said shit. I thought maybe something was wrong." El mumbled and sighed, turning back to her glass. Her voice had a soft lilt, a touch of an accent Marlin couldn't quite place. Marlin could tell just by looking at her rosy cheeks and softly slurred speech she'd had too much to drink.
What a way to ring in the first night of a new life. He breathed in the heavy smoke and let it out in a large puff.
"You alright, kid?" He shifted so his body leaned against the bar. She looked up sleepily.
"..'Sfine." She leaned her chin against her small hands and closed her eyes, focusing on the soothing sound of the droning bar music, the sounds of ice and clinking glass. Focus left her eyes. The soft light of the bar seemed unimportant.
"I'm going to drive her home. She can't even make it off the barstool at this point." Marlin ran a hand through his thick hair yet again and put out his cigarette before tapping her on the shoulder and opening the front door, and when she didn't register the gesture, Marlin grabbed her wrist roughly. He climbed in the piece of shit truck she had parked outside, and watched with mild impatience as she slowly crawled into the car next to him. The keys were in the ignition. How stupid are you. He scoffed.
The truck stalled along the dirt road. Marlin swore at this piece of crap machinery, this joke on wheels. She had parked it right outside the Inn, and thankfully the poor car didn't have far to go; a sharp left. The hard part was trying to find a place to park the mammoth. Marlin finally found an empty spot behind the pasture fence, a fine parking spot for now. She wouldn't be needing this death trap in this valley.
...
The door needed some gentle coaxing to open: Marlin gave it a kick and pushed it with his shoulder and it slowly gave. He glanced over at the ranchette, a tiny thing dressed in jeans and flannel, glossy drunk eyes staring out the window into the woods. Her head lulled gently to one side, and she looked at the handsome man with intoxicated exhaustion.
"Get out, or you'll sleep in the cold." He said shortly.
El didn't understand the request. Piece by piece, it began making sense.
Out..cold..
El slid to the driver's seat and managed to step out. Her legs felt heavy and light at the same time, her head swam. All she could focus on were little bits of light and the face of a man she had just barely met. She leaned into him and closed her eyes. Just for a second. She felt her body slide down and her mind went blank.