Disclaimer: As per usual, this is for fun and a bit of self-therapy. I own nothing familiar, here.
Chapter Four: Prometheus' GiftAlright, Max. Chloe shifted from one foot to another, staring at the diner from just across the street. You win, asshole. For a moment she contemplated the last time she actually felt trepidation about walking into the Two Whales and couldn't really place it. Knowing me, Chloe thought as she openly jaywalked, it was probably back when I got my first F on a Chemistry test. The temptation to check her phone, to look for something, anything to distract her from the inevitable conversation rose up but instead she pulled the door to the diner open and walked in.
The customers were pretty typical fare for a weekend around lunch time. A pair of cops sat up at the bar, a couple of groups that she was fairly sure were all fishermen littered the booths and (Oh, I must be some sort of psychic, Chloe thought) Mrs. Grant sat at a table in the far corner of the dining area. Let's hope I don't summon other members of Blackwell staff with my thoughts. It only took one particular scan of the room to see her mother cross the room with a pot of coffee, bound for a table seating a man wearing a hat that literally had fishing lures hanging from it. As soon as his cup was full, her mother turned to greet the 'new arrival' and Chloe tried to tell herself that the pleased look on her face was real and not put on for anyone's sake.
"Have a seat," she finally said, gesturing to an empty booth close to the door. Chloe tried to offer the blonde a smile to match her own, but all she could really feel was a combination of dread and frustration that she had let someone she had not spoken to in weeks 'talk sense' into her after about a day back in town. "I can't really take a break, but I want to talk." Chloe nodded and sat down, not really saying anything. There was no pretense of privacy to be had in this plan, but it had the added benefit of being a conversation she could have with her mother without Sergeant Dildo interrupting to try to whip her into shape.
It was only a minute or so later, as Chloe sat turning her phone over in her hands, that her mother returned with two glasses of coke and then, to her surprise, sat down opposite of her. The doors to the kitchen opened and out stepped one of the cooks she worked with. Lewis? Chloe asked herself, then shrugged the question off. Whatever his name was, he was red in the face and Chloe couldn't help but wonder how hot it was back there. Across from her, in that outfit that Chloe felt a little bit of bitterness toward, her mother settled back in the seat.
"A friend of mine told me I was being a bit of a dumba- a bit stupid. Made me promise I'd come talk to you now and not later," Chloe tried to smile again, but there was some small degree of guilt that the first thing she said to her mother was a lie of omission. It's not like I can say, 'oh by the way, Max ran away to come back here but really doesn't want her parents to know yet.' "So, yeah."
"Friend huh? Was it Rachel? The girl from Principal Wells' office and the play?" Chloe blinked.
"You heard, huh?"
"Heard?" Chloe tilted her head. "Honey, I was there."
"What?"
"Well," Joyce said, pulling from her apron a small, folded flyer that Chloe recognized immediately as advertising The Tempest. "I walked out after my shift to find this under my wipers with the time and date circled. All things considered, I thought maybe it was my daughter trying to find a way to talk to me and since she's suddenly become so shy about answering that phone of hers," Chloe stopped spinning the phone in her hands. "Maybe this was her reaching out. Imagine my surprise when there you are, on stage and then afterward, I couldn't find you."
"I didn't put that there," Chloe told her. "I-I didn't even know I was going to be on stage until like, half an hour before? Rachel sort of volunteered me." Okay, that's weird. Her mother folded the flyer up and instead of discarding it, she slid it right back into the apron.
"Well, whoever did it, I'm glad. I would have hated to miss my daughter's big debut." Chloe only narrowly avoided rolling her eyes, but it still felt like a Herculean effort feeding into an epic victory. "So," Chloe didn't enjoy the tone of her mother's voice when she continued and again feeling like something of a psychic could swear she saw where this was going. "This Rachel, is she a, very close friend?" In a moment of awkward panic, no change of subject came to mind, but Chloe did glance down at her hands as she answered.
"I don't know," Chloe replied. That seemed like the most honest answer she could give without giving into the urge to turn and leave the diner. While doing so might have adhered to the letter of her promise to Max, it hardly honored the spirit of it.
"Well, maybe next time you come in here, you bring her with you. Or better yet, bring her home for dinner some time." No, that's a cheap tactic, Chloe thought, desperately. Trying to swing the conversation around to her coming home without outright saying anything about it was not okay. None of this has gone the way I thought it would. Chloe exhaled and grabbed onto the safe part of the conversation, or relatively safe, at least.
"I mean, I had dinner with her parents last night, so that seems fair," Chloe told her.
"Is that where you stayed last night, then?" Again, the potential implications of the question were pretty far reaching. It might have been possible to play off their friendship as only a friendship if it weren't for the fact that her mother had apparently witnessed the very public promise between the two. I haven't actually had time to think about it, I haven't had time to think about any of it. Chloe couldn't help but think back on Rachel's parting comment as she got out of the truck only a short time ago, that if Chloe didn't think she could leave yet, after all, Rachel understood. What she didn't say is if she would stay.
"Yeah," Chloe admitted, finally. "She got some really bad news after the play and couldn't really talk to her parents about it. So I stayed in their guest room." Joyce seemed to sigh, shaking her head, though there was half of a smile on her face at the same time.
"That's what I don't understand about the way you're acting lately," Chloe swallowed the retort on the tip of her tongue ("Yeah? And how's that?") "This is who you are. Someone who, having all kinds of problems of her own, would go out of her way to take care of a friend. You and Max were always like that with each other, too, you know?" Shit! Why is she bringing Max up? Does she know? Chloe tried desperately to keep her face neutral. "So if that's still who my daughter is, how is it that things went so wrong between us? Why can't we go back to the way things were?" This is unfair. She's making it about me and her and it's not that simple. Besides, she's the one who brought that asshole into this.
"David is an asshole, mom." She could see the brick wall fall into place behind her mother's face and knew that there was no value in taking that route. Besides, I promised Max I wasn't coming here to fight and if I work this out then she's going to have to listen to me about this sleeping out in parks bullshit.
"Chloe, come home," her mother asked, quite suddenly shifting the subject even as her long nails sounded against the table. She's getting annoyed. I'm not doing this right, either. Chloe closed her eyes. "Chloe?"
"Well, yeah. I can't exactly stay where I was the other night. I just, I need time to figure out how."
"What do you mean, how, Chloe?" Okay, okay, fine. I'll try this her way.
"Mom, David is an asshole." Her mother let out a frustrated sigh and started to speak. "But it's more than that. He's got a superiority complex and he's a sexist pig and for some reason it feels like you're okay with that." No response came, so Chloe continued, aware she was, at best, being humored. "I… I have a problem with the idea that you're okay with that. I have a problem with how he behaves. I have a problem living under the same roof as him and I know that in a couple weeks of if I come back, he's going to be treating me like some sort of fresh military recruit and running the house like a military unit." This time, when she looked up, she did not see the brick wall. Good, finish it.
"I'm not in the military. I won't be treated like I am. If I make stupid choices they're mine to make and yours to punish. Maybe even his if you say they are and I will hate it but I can't make myself come back right now knowing I'm going to be talked down at, condescended to and openly insulted and my mother won't have my back!" Suddenly, what started in her mind as a controlled response was becoming anything but if the lump in her throat was any indication.
"Honey, you're exaggerating about David," the response came in mothering tones that tried to hide the hurt. It did not succeed and Chloe was not sure whether she should be upset about that or not. Maybe she had to hurt her mother to make her understand she was being hurt.
"You know what, mom? Maybe I am." Chloe looked up. "But whether I am or not, I'm not coming back for a couple of days. So do me a favor. For the next two days, pay attention to what he says and does. Count how many times he goes off on a rant about women always being or doing something. Count how many times he assumes superiority or talks down to other people, especially women. Count how many times he says someone is lying or plotting something without you being able to see any proof. Think about it." She clenched her fist around her phone. "If I'm full of shit, I'll come back right off the bat. If you watch, actually listen and see something, you have to say something or I'm not going to trust you to have your own back, much less mine."
Chloe wasn't able to really read her mother's emotions when she looked back at her face and that was probably only partially due to watering eyes she refused to acknowledge. From behind the counter, Lewis or Simon or Duncan (or whatever the damn cook's name was) called out for her mother as a couple entered the restaurant. I really can't read her right now, Chloe thought feeling somehow disgusted with herself as her mother answered the man and started to stand up.
"Will you be spending this afternoon with Rachel, at least?" her mother asked. The question was so far from an answer to anything that Chloe had just said that the disgust with herself changed and turned outward. She couldn't help it, she felt contempt for her mother. It made lying by omission about Max much easier as she nodded in response. "Good. I don't want you to be alone right now." There was one more moment, a glance back at Chloe before Joyce hurried to the table to greet the newcomers. Chloe leaned forward and pressed her forehead to her crossed arms. Son of a bitch!
She might have sat like that for seconds or hours, but eventually her phone began to vibrate and ring, loudly since it was on the table beneath her head. Feeling a little more in control of her emotions, Chloe answered it without bothering to check who might be calling. It was really only going to be one of two people, as anyone else just texted her. One of those people had just walked away from the table and left her feeling actually disappointed in her mother for the first time in her entire life. I swear I tried, this time. I swear I did.
"Hello."
"Hey," Max's voice greeted her half hearted answer. There was a tone of caution in it. Like she's talking to someone breakable. "Finish your coke. I'm at the stop across the street." And that'll be why. She was probably watching the whole damn thing. Chloe did not bother to answer and after a second Max hung up. Instead of following her advice and finishing her drink, Chloe took her mother's distraction as an opportunity and slipped from the restaurant after leaving a couple of dollars on the table. The issue was that as soon as she hit the bottom step of the diner, she could see the bus stop and there was most certainly no one sitting at it. Right, she thought, wiping at her eyes, I guess I'll just wait for her there.
As soon as she reached the stop a head peeked out from behind it and it occurred to her that Max might have been hiding to avoid being seen by her mother. Oh. Chloe opened her mouth to say something, but two thin wires trailing from Max's ears told her that she was probably listening to music. Instead of removing them, Max reached out and grabbed her hand, quickly and decidedly hurrying down the road. It took Chloe a second to match pace, but her legs were longer, she was taller. In the end she had the feeling that she could keep up with Max at any speed. Endurance, though, that might be an issue.
Eventually, the pair turned a corner and Max led them off the sidewalk, back from the road. The act made more sense than it had that morning, but Chloe was no longer thinking about that. Instead she was grasping at threads of memories of a dark, warm summer night, when they were both a lot smaller, about the sound of music and fair rides, people laughing and bells ringing. She could almost picture Max leading her suddenly ahead of their parents, determined to beat them to the ferris wheel. Somehow when she opened her eyes she could not unsee the image and it was hard to remember this was almost a different person leading her away from the diner. Slowly, she started to smile again.
When Max stopped she finally pulled her earbuds out and, laughing at the look on Chloe's face, leaned up against a tree. Chloe wasn't entirely sure how to take the laughter but she did reach out and pluck an earbud from Max's lax grasp, curious as to what she was listening to. Wait, Chloe thought as she listened. Isn't this Toto? Hold the Line?
"Classic Rock fan?" Chloe asked. "I thought it was all indie folk with you." Max's smile faded slightly. Confused, Chloe offered the earbud back.
"I've gotten a taste for a bit of everything. Someone got me into a lot of classic rock a couple of months ago. Helped me get through some shit." The change in the tone was sudden and very off-putting. "Sometimes I need different music for different moods. If I was angry I wouldn't be listening to fucking Toto." Her grin was a weak imitation of the earlier one.
"And what kind of mood brings out Toto?" Chloe asked her, genuinely curious as Max started walking again. Though, where to?
"The kind that keeps you from sleeping," was the only reply she came back with. Chloe didn't pursue it any further, but noticed that the mood had more or less soured.
"I'm s- uh, how did the tour go?"
"Blackwell's nice," Max finally said, her voice sounding more open and friendly. "I like it."
"You would," Chloe replied, shaking her head.
"What's that mean?" Max asked. "Besides, it looks like it has a pretty nice science department. Why aren't you a bigger fan?"
"I don't know," Chloe said, drawing even with Max for a moment. "It's not as if I suddenly hate the stuff. I even managed to get into a physics course this semester and that was pretty cool, but," she shrugged. "It's that place. It's fucked: pretentious but screwed up and pretty much just exists to do whatever the people giving it money want." Like the Prescotts. Max didn't respond, but Chloe looked up to see a sign at the end of the road and knew where Max was leading her, now. Up ahead was a small park whose border ran up against a larger national park
We used to sneak into that park through the woods. Like every weekend. Max loved it out here. The idea that this might be where Max slept the night before snuck into her head and she pondered how best to bring it up. Maybe give it a second and it'll come up naturally? As they passed through a gate and into the park, she again was hit with a wave of nostalgia.
"You mind if I light up?" Max asked. "I need to chill out."
"What?" Max paused, turning back with an appraising glance.
"Don't play dumb, Chloe," the photographer replied. "It really, really doesn't suit you. I know I'm a fucking wreck sometimes and this helps." The two walked for a moment in silence as Chloe decided whether or not to pursue any of the lines of questioning in her head. "Oh, right, I meant for you to have this." Clutching the joint between her lips, Max reached into her bag and pulled out a photograph that Chloe remembered her taking in the truck, offering it to Chloe.
Chloe took the picture, smiling at the rendering of Rachel pressed up close against her as she drove. She looks happy, Chloe thought, taking in Rachel's grin at the camera. We'd just missed out on getting Frank to tell us anything about her mother and she still looks happy. As her eyes passed over her own face, she had to admit she looked happy, too. Maybe I have shit to be happy about, right now.
"Thanks," she told Max, pocketing the picture before taking a hit of the offered joint. "You know, I never figured Max Caulfield for a stoner."
"Yeah, me either," she replied. "Guess I've had some bad influences." There was some air of humor in the response. "But if you think I'm shit right now, you should've seen what I was like before I got my vaporizer. Wish I could've brought it with me but, I can really only carry what's in this bag and I wanted a change of clothes and my camera. Chloe nodded. "You have that look on your face," Max told her. Chloe raised an eyebrow. "You want to know something, just ask." Oh, so she's suddenly an expert on my looks, huh?
"What really made you come back to Arcadia Bay so suddenly? Tiny little shitstain of a town." Max nodded as if it was a fair question and made for a patch of trees away from the main path through the park. Not that it hasn't been deserted so far. Max turned, pressing her back against one as she exhaled a stream of smoke.
"It wasn't sudden," she replied, sounding very serious. "I didn't want to go in the first place, especially with what happened to William. I am so sorry about him, Chloe." Chloe shook her head, though she wasn't entirely sure what she was trying to say with the gesture. "I thought about what it would be like to come back a lot. I missed you. One day, I guess I just had enough of pretending like Arcadia Bay wasn't home, like you weren't home." Chloe felt strangely unnerved by the last part.
"C-come on," she tried. "Seattle couldn't be all that bad. You had smoking buddies and, what, probably a boy?" Max shook her head.
"No boys," she replied. "Besides, even if I wanted them, it'd be a bit hard. The downside of skipping a couple grades is that you're younger than everyone around you." Then, before Chloe could say anything else, Max continued. "I mean, yeah, I have a couple friends back there. I'm gonna miss the hell out of them. They were nice. But they're gone now. Lots of people are gone now and I want to come home."
"So, uh, not to be debbie downer again, but like I said this morning, this is probably a bad way to convince your folks to let you go to Blackwell." Max nodded.
"I felt kind of backed into a corner," she offered Chloe a hit, Chloe shook her head. "I didn't make the best choice, but I think I made the best choice I could. They weren't listening. They didn't understand it. It's a bit late to take it back now so I guess I have to double down."
"I understand that, " Chloe replied. "Sleeping in a junkyard, remember?" Max nodded, again.
"How did that go? It didn't - well it didn't look so good."
"I don't think she really listened." Chloe's phone went off, interrupting the conversation. Half expecting it to be a message from a distraught Rachel, she opened it. "It's Frank," she told Max. "Damon Merrick is going to be okay, but he's pissed off." By way of response she simply sent: Sera? Very quickly, as if Frank was still holding the phone he responded. "He knows where she's going to be, not where she is." Max leaned close, to read. Frank was not forthcoming and after a moment stopped responding entirely.
Frank
Let me think. You're asking me to do something that could come down pretty bad on me. Like, the wrong-end-of-Damon's-knife bad, Price.
Chloe closed the chat, cursing and sent a message to Rachel as Max took another hit. Rachel's response was immediate and probing, despite theoretically being in a room with her father. I bet that's not going well. It felt horrible, but eventually Chloe had to tell her she had no new information. By this point, Max had moved away and was no longer reading over her shoulder.
"So," Max started, "about Rachel." Suddenly, Chloe might have been back at the diner sitting across from her mother. The very idea that a similar discussion was about to take place made her flush and she tried to tell herself it was from annoyance.
"Yeah," Chloe started, looking to cut the conversation off, early. "I'm not entirely sure what's going on there. And yeah, it might be something more than just friends. Is that really so weird?" Max laughed, openly at her. It was definitely enough to leave Chloe feeling frustrated.
"I meant 'what's going on with this woman you two are looking for?' Still, it's good to know even the great Chloe Price is able to get struck by cupid's arrow like the rest of us mere mortals." Now it was impossible to deny precisely why she grew red in the face. An almost petty impulse rose up, the temptation to ask Max why Rachel seemed to intimidate her. Stop it. She's not even trying to give you shit for real. It's probably just part of the big anxiety thing she was talking about.
Chloe needed a few minutes to recount most of the tale to Max who accepted it all with little more than a muttered, 'well shit.' You know, she can be as nervous as she wants to, but this girl is pretty damn cool about shit like what happened in the junkyard. I mean, maybe not in the moment, but now…. She couldn't help but think that Max was precisely the kind of person she and Rachel needed help from dealing with this shit.
"I think you need to talk to Frank again," Max finally said. It hadn't occurred to Chloe that she might have been turning the problem over in her head, but that did strike her as a very Max thing to do. "I'm thinking, if he knows something you need to know, make a deal with him."
"I don't know. I used to think he wasn't much of a problem, but now I wonder if he's not kind of, you know, dangerous." Max held out her hand.
"Lemme see your phone?" Chloe tilted her head. "Don't worry. I just think his number would be good to have if I move back here." Tentative to believe Max had changed the subject so quickly to securing her own drug supplier in town, Chloe pulled up Frank's number and passed it to Max, watching her program it into her own phone. "There," Max eventually said, shoving it unceremoniously back into her hand. "Now, onto the problem. Try this: text him and ask him if there's some way you can find out what you want to know without his boss knowing it was him that told you."
"If there is, don't you think he would've told us?" Max chuckled.
"I don't think that guy strikes me as the 'deep thinker.' Besides, he's probably been a bit distracted with his boss being hella mad about getting his ass kicked by a little girl." Chloe almost smiled at this. That's true. Things must suck for him right now. Still, she thought as Max momentarily wore that dangerous grin again, the same one she wore standing overtop Damon. It's not the whole thing where she looks proud of beating the shit out of him, I get that. But that smile looks like someone who enjoyed it. That's weird.
"Why does everyone I know nowadays use the word, 'hella?'" Instead of answering, Max insistently pressed Chloe's phone into her palm. "Fine. I promised her: any means necessary."
"I've made that promise a few times. I get it." You know? I bet she does get it.
Me
Frank, is there a way you can tell me what I want to know without your boss knowing it was you?
Frank
Price, you're being stupid about this. Stupider than usual.
Me
I think it's 'more stupid' but I always sucked at English.
Frank
Where are you now?
Me
Carlin Park
Frank?
Frank?
When Chloe filled Max in, she legitimately cracked her knuckles, in a way that Chloe had seen herself do in the mirror a hundred times. Shaking her head, Chloe asked what n the world Max was thinking. Instead of immediately responding, she once more opened the bag over her shoulder and looked through its contents. Chloe waited patiently, though she did take a second to identify the laptop, a small notebook, her camera and a can of some sort that she could only guess was mace. Max is packed lightly, I see.
"I'm thinking he's coming," Max finally answered once she shut the bag. "I'm thinking I have nothing else to do until I go back to Seattle except hang out with my best friend, hang out with my home."
"You're weird as hell."
"Said the pot to the kettle." Max's prediction was right. Not bothering to care about such things like the lack of a road, Frank's RV barreled down the path into the park half an hour later and rather than wait for Chloe to lead the way, Max stepped out from their hiding spot and flagged Frank down. The brakes made an unpleasant sound as he slammed on them and then gestured through the window for them to join him. Chloe glanced sideways at the girl, wondering if she was going to be willing to get into an RV with a man she had threatened a few hours ago. Max was the first to the door of the vehicle when Frank threw it open.
"Get in," Frank told them by way of greeting. He had thrown aside his signature hat and was running one hand nervously through hair that was thinning far too early.
"No thanks mister," Chloe responded. "I'm not looking for any free candy."
"Listen, if you want to see this woman, you have a really limited timeframe, now get in." Max was climbing into the RV before Chloe could respond and that left Chloe no choice but to follow her in. Frank, for his part, shot no special look toward Max. "I see the other one isn't here. She seemed like the one who wanted to know what's happening the most."
"I can text her. She could be here in maybe half an hour tops."
"Price, you might have an hour to see this woman." Chloe shook her head and glanced at Max, who was strapping into the front passenger seat without another word. Chloe watched her pet the puppy resting between the seats. "It's now or never."
"I'll text her on the way," Chloe finally said. She didn't bother to strap in anywhere, instead approaching and crouching next to Pompidou as Frank turned the RV around and aimed for the edge of town. She pulled her phone out. "Where are we going?"
"To one hell of a fire walk."
Rs qexxiv alex, Glpsi aepow syx sj xlmw yrlevqih. Wli ger qeoi yt liv qmrh efsyx alex lettirw ribx, ejxiv. Xlmw mw xli wigsrh qensv hizmexmsr. Ejxiv xshec ercxlmrk ksiw. M'pp riih xs wxec evsyrh psrk irsykl xs aexgl xli jeppsyx. Xli aec Glpsi xippw mx, wli riziv wea Heqsr Qivvmgo ekemr ejxiv xshec. Mj alex M xlmro lettirih egxyeppc lettirih, M qmklx fi efpi xs lipt wsqisri ipwi xshec. M'zi ksx izivcxlmrk M riih. Glpsi lew sri tlsxs, M lezi ersxliv erh Veglip lew xli xlmvh. M ger viamrh, M ger izir teywi. Xlivi mw rsxlmrk wxsttmrk qi. M hsr'x orsa alex'w gsqmrk. Epp M orsa mw xlex Glpsi aepow syx sj xli qmpp amxlsyx e wgvexgl.