San Francisco, 1994
Louise yawned as she trudged down the street. Her eyes began to dart around, both to see if anyone saw her do it, and to keep her active in some way. Thankfully no-one did. She made an effort to keep her posture high.
It was nearly eleven at night, but for Louise this was her morning. At least it was tonight. Given how much her sleep schedule had been in flux, it felt like she was in a constant state of tiredness. Not that anyone needed to know, especially not strangers on the sidewalk. She was in uniform - what would they think? Unfit for her job, a liability, that's what they'd think.
Unlike some of her last security gigs, at least this time her workplace was only a five-minute walk away from her house. It wasn't long before she made it to the back door of the library. Whoever was on duty right now - Jerome, probably - saw her on the other end of the closed-circuit camera, and buzzed her in.
A couple minutes later, she clocked in for the night, noticing she was fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. She'd wanted to use the extra time to get in some studying back at the house, but after getting up it was vital to stay on her toes, she knew - if she exhausted her brain this early in her 'morning', her confused body was liable to betray her and shut down again. She couldn't risk that.
She used the extra fifteen minutes to go the bathroom, freshen up a bit. She looked at herself in the mirror on the way out, seeing a short, round-faced, big-nosed twenty-three-year-old with fluffy brown shoulder-length hair, currently tied back, and dressed up in full un-ironed rent-a-cop gear - white shirt, black pants, tie, baseball cap with 'SECURITY' on the front. Her eyes were naturally very narrow, even more so when she was inspecting herself like this. Seeing the bags under her eyes. She sighed - there was no way this was gonna go unnoticed.
She still had ten minutes. On the way to the security office, she headed for the breakroom, and not wanting to waste time brewing a coffee, she just grabbed a can of Sub-Cola from the fridge and ate a handful of jelly beans from the jar she'd brought in a couple nights ago. She liked a good doughnut, sure, (especially the sprinkly ones) but… guards eating doughnuts? Bit stereotypical.
When she arrived at the security office, she saw two older, moustachioed guards sitting down. One of them she recognized as Bob, with his feet up, reading the university paper, the Bay Debrief. 'S.F.U. CROCS DECLARE CHEESE CRUST PIZZA DELICIOUS - TREND WILL SPREAD NATIONWIDE BY NEXT YEAR! ' the headline read.
"Bob, I'm tellin' ya, it was a man in a lion suit," said Jerome, sitting in the opposite chair and fiddling with a computer.
"Nah, it was too fast to be a man," Bob responded, not taking his eyes off the paper, "my buddy Greg says humans can't run faster than twenty miles per hour."
"He was walking on two legs and holding a crowbar."
"Well, maybe it was one'o those trained circus lions."
"Okay, first of all…" Jerome began counting off his fingers, "There's no circuses around, second, that's against the law now, an' third, even if this was some secret underground circus, ya need opposable thumbs to hold a crowbar!"
"Maybe it was half-panda? Would explain why they're underground, if they'd stolen a panda."
"You're an idiot."
"It was too fast to be a man…" Bob concluded, darkly, clutching his paper tighter.
"Oh! Evenin', Lou," Jerome finally acknowledged Louise's entrance, turning to face her. "Geez, sweetheart, you look like a zombie. When did ya go to bed this time?"
"Evening," Louise answered, tactfully ignoring the 'sweetheart' and cracking open her drink. "Since you asked - five PM. Some big-shot criminologist came in to give a guest lecture," she said, trying to sound dismissive. She left out the detail that she'd taped the lecture and listened to the whole thing again. She wasn't Louise the student right now, she was Lou the no-nonsense night watchlady.
"Hey, Lou," Bob cut in before Jerome could answer anything, folding his paper and handing it to her. "Whaddya make of this lion situation? Is it a man? Is it a lion? These are legitimate questions."
Louise put her drink down on the desk and took the paper - the article Bob had given her read 'ALLEGED LION SIGHTED BREAKING INTO DEAN'S OFFICE WITH CROWBAR' , complete with a picture of the obviously-a-man-in-a-lion-suit skulking around the campus grounds.
Finding herself instinctively reaching for a pen she kept in her shirt pocket, she scanned through the article, getting the gist of the situation - the police were still looking into the break-in, and a local 'concerned citizen' group accused the 'lion' of being influenced by The Lion Prince , that big Gisnep movie that hit theaters a couple months ago - yet another sign of 'demonic infiltration of society', they said.
It was then she found herself impulsively clicking the pen over and over. That was the sound of thought.
"...I think this is a false-flag operation. The photograph is too clear, and the man in the lion suit is looking at the photographer - if it wasn't posed, he'd be running away, creating motion blur. Plus, no-one asked why the photographer waited ten minutes after taking the photo before calling the cops, instead of 'right away'. I suspect the 'concerned citizen' group is behind it, probably in an effort to push the idea that pop culture they don't understand and violent crime are linked."
Bob and Jerome stared at her for a good ten seconds, dumbfounded.
"So… it is a man in a lion suit?" Jerome asked, apprehensively.
"Well… yeah. I figured that was obvious."
Jerome silently mouthed a 'yes' as he victoriously pumped his fist.
"What's a false-flag operation?" Bob asked, scratching his head.
"It's when you do something so someone else gets blamed for it. ...It's like a prank, except it's not s'posed to be funny."
"Ohhhhh…"
Louise picked up her drink and took a long sip. She had her own reasons to jump to such a seemingly out-there conclusion, of course, but now wasn't the time to reflect on them.
"Well," Jerome said as he stood up, clapping his hands, "my shift's over!"
Louise glanced at the clock. "Uh… it's still five to eleven."
"Yeah, an' it'll take five to walk over to the signin'-out book. S'called efficiency," he answered, tapping his head.
"Uh- huh…"
As he walked out of the office, Bob took his paper back and set his feet off the desk, turning to face her. "Oh, just so ya know, ya drew the short straw again - you're on burglar watch outside tonight."
"You don't say?" Lou deadpanned, only raising a brow. It was mighty convenient how they always drew straws before she arrived - this was the fourth shift in a row she was on burglar watch.
About a month ago, there'd been an incident with some townies trying to break into the library and steal several thousand dollars' worth of computer equipment - since then the management mandated that at least two guards have to be on constant watch outside - that was her job, again. They'd have more if their budget hadn't been cut again. Still, at least it was marginally more physically-active than the alternative. She'd take it. She had to take it.
She'd already begun mentally mapping out the route she was going to take, when she was almost startled out of her thoughts when the phone on the desk began to ring. Bob took what seemed like far too long to pick up, casually turning around and gingerly lifting it to his ear, leaning back.
"San Francisco University library, security office, how can I help?" he answered. A voice on the other side was sounding a little… shaken. Bob's eyes shot open.
"Uh, it's for you," he said, passing it to Lou. That was weird… she'd never seen him look so alarmed before.
Lou hesitated for a moment, flexing her fingers. Bracing herself, she took the phone and held it to her ear, hoping it was just another irate classmate of hers demanding to be let in after hours. That she could handle - firm rejection and a swift hang-up. Never give them the satisfaction of getting you riled up, even if they'd give you dirty looks in class after the sun came up.
Instead, the voice that greeted her was… well, right now, it was non-existent. She could only hear uneven breathing on the other end of the line.
"...This is Louise Pines speaking, yes…" she said, figuring that maybe they were just overly-polite.
"Hello, greenie…" a soft yet gruff voice finally spoke up, clearly belonging to an older man. Louise recognized it immediately - her eyes shot open just like Bob's.
"...Dad?" she said, putting her drink down again so she could clutch the phone with both hands. She cast a dark look at her colleague, prompting him to turn away, his hands held up as if she was aiming a gun at him.
"How'd you get my work number?" she continued.
"Your… your housemate gave it to me. Yanno, the uh… the Russian girl?"
"You mean Irina, yes…" Lou winced, hoping he'd used some tact when talking to her - he was still kinda stuck in the old Cold War mindset.. "What is this about? I'm kinda busy right now."
"I know, I know… it's just, there's been… I-I…"
Louise swallowed. This was odd… dad hadn't sounded this shaken since the divorce. He had much reason to be shaken, she knew, but he didn't ever let it show. It was the Pines way.
"Um… a-are you… o… kay?" she tried to say, some weird mental force making getting those words out as difficult as possible, especially with someone else in the room.
"I'm fine. It's… your Grandma Caryn. ...She's gone. I'm sorry."
Just like that, Louise felt like an old wound in her chest had just been re-opened. Or… no, it was like it had been there, fresh, all along and she'd somehow ignored it. She'd been awakened.
She almost collapsed, managing to lean against the desk in time. Suddenly, everything was far too loud, everything was too bright.
"It was… emphysema, the doctors said. You know how she liked her smokes…"
The memory came back to her. It was three weeks ago, she'd heard that Grandma Caryn had been submitted to the hospital for a chest infection. A couple days later, she'd been released, apparently perfectly healthy, and she'd declared she was finally quitting, to boot - evidently, it was too little, too late. Louise thought she didn't need to worry, at least not for a while yet.
She clenched the phone tight, almost breaking the casing - she had a feeling something had gone overlooked by some quack doctor somewhere along the line… or maybe it was just Grandma's lying habit flaring up again. Stubborn, stubborn woman she is- was. Taught her well…
"...-ise? Louise, you there?"
Louise cleared her throat, standing up straight again. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm here. I'm fine."
She felt a hot, prickly, stinging feeling building up inside her head. 'Fight it. Fight through it. You're working. This is not the time' she thought to herself.
"Right, of course…" dad said. "I-I know this is a lot to ask, I know you're busy with studies and whatnot, but… since you and Ma were pretty close, we were wondering i-if you'd like to come hom-... uh, to Glass Shard for the funeral? And maybe stay for Shiva? Y-you don't have to, of course, since you're not immediate family…"
"I am," Louise interrupted, perhaps a little too forcefully. "Uh, sorry. I, um… I dunno, I'm sorta…"
She racked her mind to try and think of an excuse not to go, but it was coming up short. Her instincts were betraying her, telling her to do different things. Of course she wanted to honour her Grandma, but it was much easier to just… not think about this sort of thing. Caryn would have understood. Not like they were ever especially devout, anyway. Everyone expected her to not get all mushy, too. She couldn't be crying overgrown baby no. five-thousand. Hell, already Bob probably thinks she's unfit to work here just looking at her.
Those were lots of little voices, but they couldn't drown out the one big voice. Telling her that abandoning her Grandma would be a betrayal of the highest order. She was always there for her. How could she turn her back on her now?
"I'll…" '...definitely be coming', was what she wanted to say, but that stupid mental force blocked it again.
"I'll think about it."
Dad went silent for long enough that she began to worry that he'd hung up on her. Perhaps in disgust.
"Right. Right, of course, I understand…" he finally said. "Guess I should let you get back to work. Stay safe, greenie."
"Y-yeah. You too, dad."
She firmly planted the receiver back down, seeing a concerned-looking Bob gawking at her.
"Lou, are you c-"
"Don't," she glared at him again, making him retreat into his chair.
It was only now that he pointed it out that she noticed a tear had rolled down her eye. Great, just great.
"If anyone asks, this never happened."
"Yes ma'am," Bob answered, as though she wasn't nearly half his age.
"I'm going on burglar watch," she declared, heading outside via the front entrance, at the fastest brisk pace she could muster - making sure not to break out into a run. You don't run in the library.
Once she was outside again, she shuddered slightly, feeling the cool summer air; if only because it placed the prickly sensation inside her into sharper relief. Wanting something to dull the pain, without even thinking she reached into her pocket, pulling out her pack of Alpaca cigarettes. She smiled on seeing them - these were Caryn's favourites. This one was for her, she told herself.
She had taken one out of the box, pulled out her bright green lighter, and was just about to light up when a realization hit her. Her face screwed up into a disgusted grimace, and she held the cigarette further from her mouth. What the hell was she doing? These things killed her grandma. Because of that sweet, sweet numbing sensation, that makes pain go away, like the pain inside her right now. She wanted to numb it, she really did, but… no, there had to be a better way than this.
"Eugh…" she went, as she flicked the unlit cigarette in a nearby trash can before she could change her mind, then pulled out the rest of the Alpacas and tossed those in there, too. Just for good measure, she also threw the lighter in there. Good. Now she couldn't get them back without rummaging around in the trash like a rabid raccoon. She'd been meaning to quit for a while, anyway, this just gave her a better excuse.
'Because looking after yourself isn't a good enough excuse on its own' a mocking voice inside her added. 'Surely a 'tough girl' like you can handle a bit of smoke.'
Louise resolved to start her patrol. That'd take her mind off all this nonsense. That's what this all is, nonsense. Mushy emotional distractions. She's got no time for her brain and body betraying her at every turn. She's a Pines, darnit. Just like the tree: firm, enduring, stubborn, difficult to move, top-heavy, held up by a thin trunk that when chopped down sends everything above crashing down… this analogy wasn't going where she wanted.