Chapter Eight: No Happy Endings
There is no lonelier man in death, except the suicide, than that man who has lived many years with a good wife and then outlived her. If two people love each other there can be no happy end to it.- Ernest Hemingway
The door creaks open, and Boone swings the butt of his rifle around. He's slightly impressed that the woman doesn't flinch even as it slams into the wall beside her head. The only reaction she shows is clutching the T-Rex in her palm.
"God damn it," he swears, lowering his rifle. "Don't sneak up on me like that! What do you want?"
"Sorry," she says, but it sounds strange to him. "You expecting visitors?"
"Yeah. Maybe I am. But not like you." He looks her up and down, noting the way she ignores the blood staining her face, the 9mm holstered on her hip, and the hilt of a combat knife sticking out of her boot. "Huh. Maybe it was you I should have been expecting all along. Why are you here?" She tilts her head.
"If you're looking for someone in particular," she says slowly. "I could tip you off if I see them."
"Yeah, well. If you see anyone wearing Legion crimson, or a lot of sports equipment, you just let me know. You still haven't answered my question," he says, getting annoyed.
"I just wanted to check out the view."
"There's nothing up here."
"Fine. I'm looking for a man in a checkered suit."
"Haven't seen him. I think you should leave," he says, jerking his hand toward the door.
"You treat everyone around here like this?" she asks calmly. He opens his mouth to protest, but stops.
"Wait. You wandered into town recently, right?" he says, looking her up and down again. She gets the feeling he's sizing her up for something. "Maybe you shouldn't go. Not just yet."
"Why is that? Do you need help with something?" They way she moves her mouth is strange, like she doesn't know quite how to speak. Boone catches a glimpse of a scar snaking from her temple to her cheek.
"I need someone I can trust. You're a stranger. That's a start," he says. She tilts her head.
"You only trust strangers?" she asks. "Why? Everyone here seems so nice." He loses his temper, and snaps at her,
"I said it was a start!" A long, tense moment passes between them, and he thinks she is going to turn around and leave.
"Sorry," she says quietly. "I'm God-awful at this being social thing." He chuckles mirthlessly.
"You and me both. You wanna hear what I have to say?"
"By all means," she answers, and he releases the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He thought she was going to say no.
"This town. Nobody looks me straight in the eye anymore. I need you to find something out for me. I don't know if there's anything to find, but I need someone to try. My wife," he says, and swallows the lump that forms in his throat. "My wife was taken by Legion slavers one night while I was on watch." She stiffens just a bit, and her hand unconsciously brushes her pocket. "They knew which route to take so I wouldn't see them, and they only took Carla. Someone set it up. I don't know who."
"You're trying to track down your wife?" she asks quietly, and he pushes down that old, familiar pain that wells up in his chest.
"My wife is dead," he says with more force than he expected to. "I want the sorry son of a bitch who sold her." She nods, and doesn't ask anything more about his wife.
He's oddly grateful.
"So, what do you want me to attempt of if I find this person?" she asks.
"What?" he asks, not quite understanding her word choice. She winces, and rephrases.
"What do you want me to do if I find this person?"
"Bring him out in front of the nest while I'm on duty. I work nights," he explains. He pulls his beret off of his head, ignoring how exposed he feels without it. "I'll give you my First Recon beret to put on. It'll be out signal that you're standing with him. I'll take care of the rest. I. I need to do this myself," he says, reluctantly explaining himself to this stranger. She gingerly takes the beret, sensing it's importance.
"I'll do everything I can to help you out," she says. He nods, seemingly satisfied.
"Good. I'll make it worth your while. One more thing. We shouldn't speak again. Not until this is over. No one in town knows I know what happened to my wife," he says. "Best they never know. Or the Legion will be coming after me next."
"Got it," she says, yawning widely. She is exhausted, but she won't sleep yet. Not until she makes some headway on this. Boone reaches down beside his seat, and picks up a Nuka Cola standing among the various chems. Self-consciously, he kicks the chems underneath his seat.
"Here. Saw you walking. Must be tired," he says. She smiles, and accepts the soda. If she notices the chems, she chooses not to comment.
Just one more thing to be grateful for.
The door opens, and Manny enters. He stiffens when his eyes land on the woman. Dark circles hang under his eyes, and Boone feels a little guilty. But he pushes that down, and hardens his resolve. If Manny had anything to do with Carla's disappearance, he won't hesitate to shoot him.
He hopes that it doesn't come to that.
"Who the hell are you?" Manny demands. Boone opens his mouth to answer, and realizes he never got the woman's name.
"Lola Haze," she answers, eyeing Manny's beret. "You must be Manny." He stiffens further, and shoots a glance over at Boone. Boone ignores him, gathering his things.
"Yeah? What of it?" he asks. Boone shakes his head before moving to the door. He pauses after he opens it, and nods to Lola.
"Don't forget what I told you," he says. She nods back, sticking his beret in her front pocket.
"Understood." He leaves. Manny turns on her.
"What do you want?" he demands. "What were you talking about with Boone? Why do you have his beret?" She shakes her head.
"That's the second time I've been asked what I wanted. You First Recon fellas really know how to make a gal feel welcome," she answers, popping the cap on the Nuka Cola Boone gave her. Manny glowers at her as she takes her first sip. "Relax. I'm looking for a man in a checkered suit. Do you know him?" His eyes narrow.
"Sure I know him. What do you want with him?" She doesn't say anything, instead motioning to the scar on her face. Manny winces, and she can tell he knows exactly what it's from. "Pretty important to be chasing a guy like that. I can help you," he says, and pauses a beat. "But I have problems of my own." She smiles, and hopes it doesn't look too ghoulish.
"Doesn't everyone?"
"Novac, it's home for me now," he says, and her heart aches at the thought of having a home. "I want that to be for good. I like it here, and I've left too many homes behind. But the only resource we have to trade is junk. Without that, everyone would leave and Novac would become a wasteland ghost town."
"Whose threatening you?" she asks.
"We get most of our junk from the REPCONN Test Site, but one day a bunch of ghouls took over, and now we can't get in. I need you to clear them out," he says, the edge of his voice softening. She shakes her head, thinking about what she did to the last person who tried to bargain with her for information.
"I'll do it. But no tricks? You'll tale-tell-me what I want to know?" He nods, seemingly relieved.
"Yeah. Sorry about earlier," he says, his fingers moving up to massage the bridge of his nose. "Boone and I aren't on the best of terms."
"It wouldn't have anything to do with his wife's disappearance, would it?" she asks. He levels another suspicious look at her. She stares back at him, trying to discern if he knows anything.
"Believe me," he starts slowly, as if picking his words carefully. "When I heard the news, my first thought was that I owe somebody. Big. I figured Boone would come around after a while. But he hasn't, and I'm starting to think that if he doesn't find her, things'll never go back to the way they were." He sounds almost mournful.
"You were close, huh?" she says. He nods.
"He was my best friend. We spotted together in First Recon."
"Who would want to hurt Boone's wife?" she asks. He takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly.
"Man, everyone. That girl didn't have one friend in the whole town. She didn't want any. She just wanted to sit in her room all day and make herself miserable. And she went out of her way to be rude. She upset a lot of people," he says, looking Lola up and down. "She wouldn't have liked you. You wouldn't have liked her either."
Lola nods, and thanks him for his time before leaving the dinosaur. She walks down the steps to see Cliff Briscoe straightening up in his supply closet. Her Geiger counter begins to tick the closer she gets to the room full of rockets.
"-Cliff? Can I ask you about Boone's wife?" He sighs, and stands up.
"I didn't really talk to her. Boone did most of their shopping. The few times she was in here, she had her nose scrunched up like something smelled bad. Shop smelled fine, as far as I can remember," he says. She nods.
"Is that it?" she questions. He nods, and she notices the gun lying on the shelf. She gestures to it. "Can I?" The smile comes back to his face.
"Sure thing!" he says, handing it to her. It's weird looking, like something she read in a book she can barely remember. Something about electric sheep? It feels natural in her hand. She tilts her head to look down the sights. "How much?"
"500 caps," he says, and she hisses sharply.
"That's pretty steep. You sure you still like me?" He laughs, and says,
"I can't let it go for any less. Sorry." She shakes her head. She has enough, with all of the scavenging she's been doing.
"Understood. I'll take it." She pays him, and places the new gun reverently in her pack. She says goodbye to Cliff Briscoe. Lola downs the rest of her Nuka Cola on her way out of the dinosaur. The caffeine puts the spring back in her step, but she knows it's only a temporary effect. She should get as much work done as she can before she is fatigued again. She decides to talk with Jeannie May next. She's been more than friendly. When she walks in, Jeannie May looks up from her reading with a smile.
"Back again so soon, dear? Have you rested at all?" she asks kindly.
"Not tired yet," she says, and for the moment, it is true. She tests the waters. "What's wrong with Boone?" Jeannie's face furrows into an expression of pity.
"Oh, nothing that wouldn't be wrong with a man who loses a wife. Poor dear," she tsks. "Now, I know he thinks she was kidnapped, but I'm not too sure she didn't just take off. She was always trying to get him to go back to New Vegas with her. I think she just got tired of waiting. You could tell she was thinking about it every since they arrived." Hmm, she thinks. Sounds like everyone knows what Boone thinks happened.
"What was she like?" Lola asks despite herself. Jeannie May's face scrunches up again, the same way it did when she spoke about the man in the checkered suit.
"How should I put it? I guess you could say she was a bit like a cactus flower-real pretty to look at, but there was no getting close to her. She preferred the big lights and fast living of New Vegas." Lola nods. She thanks Jeannie May, and leaves. She lights a cigarette, and closes her eyes. There had to be something else. She walks up to one of one of the settlers milling around the front of the hotel.
"Which room is Manny's?" she asks. They wave her to the door, and she walks over, waiting until everyone is out of sight. She crouches down, and picks the lock, opening the door with a near silent click. The room is in disarray, the mattress stripped bare, and a glowing computer terminal in the corner. She makes a face. She hopes she doesn't have to hack it. She isn't sure she knows how to get past anything but the most simple of defenses. Much to her relief, the terminal is unlocked, and she looks for anything concerning Boone's wife. She doesn't find anything about her, but what she finds instead gives her pause.
It's information concerning the man in the checkered suit, whom she finally has a name for: Benny. He and his Great Khan friends had a falling out, and the Khans are headed to Boulder City.
She can just leave right now, no strings attached, and leave Novac behind. Leave behind Manny with his forlorn face and sad voice, and leave behind Boone with his wrinkles that each hide a separate sorrow. She guiltily touches the beret tucked in the front pocket of her armor. She had a life once. Maybe if she catches up with the people who took it from her, she can get it back. She makes up her mind.
She'll tell Boone she has other matters to attend to, and he'll have to find his wife's betrayer himself.
She puts her cigarette out in Manny's ashtray, and stealthily exits his room, knocking on the door on the room next to his. When no one answers, she moves on to the next one. Boone blearily answers his door, shirtless and with a bottle of scotch in his hand. When he sees her, he grabs her by the collar and pulls her inside. The slamming of the door echoes throughout her ears. She tries not to focus on the blood that stains the carpet, or the broken glass that litters the floor in front of the bathroom.
"What the hell are you doing?" he demands. "I thought I told you we couldn't talk until this ended." Dark circles hang under his eyes like the dark stains that mar the pages of an old book. She hadn't noticed the stubble that covers his jaw while they had been speaking in the mouth of the dinosaur. Ribs poke out of the sides of what was once a well-muscled torso.
He is a man who lost his wife, and is slowly on the way to losing himself.
"I-" I can't help you find your wife. I'm sorry. "I'm close to finding out who sold your wife."
"Was it Manny?" he asks, his breath tinged with desperation.
"No," she says with absolute certainty. "He's your friend. He wouldn't do that to you." He nods, and motions to the door.
"I'll leave you alone," she says, and exits, closing the door behind her. She breathes, steeling herself and her resolve. She'll find whomever sold Boone's wife, and bring them to justice.
Tonight.
