Haints and Hoes
Marianne sat huddled in the ancient life-vest John B had dug out of the old shed for her, John B having refused to let her stay back, Marianne flipping her lid after finding out they'd be heading out on the water for the day, provoking JJ to inexplicably start calling her Landsman. But John B's attitude was they had to start as they meant to go on. To pass for a Touron, she was going to have to act like one. He'd just dismissed her fear of the water by saying she would get over it, and if she couldn't swim, she could be taught how to. So here she was, sitting in John B's old Carolina Skiff 21, which he'd christened the HMS Pogue of all things, clinging to the railing for dear life. Even JJ looked sorry for her, which said it all really.
"Lighten up, Marianne," John B said as they set off, his face suddenly stern. "You're perfectly fine, OK?"
Marianne flicked him the middle finger before grabbing the railing for dear life again. JJ averted his face so she didn't see his smirk. But John B seen it, making him glare at JJ. He'd had a quick word earlier with JJ about looking sideways at Marianne, saying that it wasn't on, especially after what she'd undergone. JJ had immediately apologized, before saying he wasn't going to make a move on Marianne at any point, under any circumstances; the fervency in his tone making John B believe him funnily enough. But it seemed like JJ was going in the other direction now, trying to make Marianne mad instead of macking on her.
"Heads-up, Bree, there's Pope," JJ called out, giving Marianne a big cheesy grin that she didn't appreciate.
"Routledge, turn this piece of shit around and take me back right now!" Marianne demanded, jabbing her finger at him. "You don't need me to go fishing."
"Yeah, we do," JJ said, leaning back against the opposite railing, looping his arms through it. "You're gonna be the bait, hoe."
"Shut the hell up, man," John B snapped, before rounding on Marianne. "What did I just say, Marianne?"
"Routledge" –
-"Look, the storm surge pushed all the crabs out on the marsh maze," John B cut across her. "The drum are gonna chase the crab. Maybe that means nothing to you, but to me, it means food. Out here, you have to work to eat. However, you, my lady, can't fish and you don't have a job. That's not your fault but if you do the math, it equals an empty stomach. Do you get me?"
"I swear, if you say you're a vegetarian, I'm gonna throw myself overboard," JJ interjected, just as Marianne opened her mouth.
"Actually, I'm a vegan," Marianne said coldly, making John B pull a pained face, whilst JJ buried his head in his hands.
"Seriously?" John B then said, not sure if she was taking the piss or not. If she wasn't, then there was going to be trouble in terms of trying to feed her since fish was the foundation of his diet especially when times were lean.
Marianne hesitated. "No, I'm not," she then admitted, much to his relief. "I just wanted to see JJ throw himself overboard."
"Only if you said you were a vegetarian, Landsman," JJ corrected her, smirking again.
"What the ever loving hell does Landsman mean, prick?" Marianne snapped, ready to throw hands right now if he didn't wipe that infuriating smirk off his face.
"A landlubber basically," JJ explained, still smirking, "an idiot inexperienced with sailing or the sea. In a nutshell, you, my dear girl."
Marianne narrowed her eyes, vowing to settle the score with him later, on dry land ironically enough.
John B just rolled his eyes as he finally drew the skiff up alongside the pier where Pope was working, hosing down the mess Hurricane Agatha had left behind there. "Yo, my man, Pope!" he heckled, before cupping his hands around his mouth to form an imaginary megaphone. "We have a safety meeting, Pope Heyward. Attendance is mandatory. I repeat, attendance is mandatory"
Marianne rolled her eyes, never surprised by how boys tried to act like men one minute, only to end up behaving like toddlers the next. JJ was a perfect example of that. But John B was a whole other story though. She still couldn't wrap her head around him helping her like this without expectation or agenda. He was taking it all in his stride as if it was no sweat off his back. Even though the dubious connection through his uncle might guilt-trip him into allowing her house-room, at the end of the day, he still didn't have to bother his backside about her. Of course he could change his mind, but she strangely sensed he wouldn't. She knew JJ was against John B helping her, but she didn't care. JJ was an asshole and he wasn't doing anything to change her mind on that score so far. Overall, she was stuck here, assholes and all. But she had no other options, so it was either this or hit the road, so she was staying put - for the time being.
Despite everything, she sat up with some interest upon clocking sight of Pope, the hose now hanging from his hand. He was stacked, with gleaming dark skin and cropped hair, unbuttoned denim shirt showcasing his toned frame. He stared back at her, suddenly looking strangely scared, almost as if she was a ghost or something.
"Pope, get your hot lil ass onboard," JJ ordered, pointing at him.
"I can't, my dad's got me on lockdown," Pope protested, still staring at Marianne with that same weird look of terror.
"Your dad's a pussy," JJ scoffed.
"Hey, I heard that you little bastard!" a man yelled, marching up from behind Pope, face furious.
"We need your son, sir – Heyward - Mr. Heyward," John B called over, acting as if JJ hadn't just insulted the older man, making Marianne wonder if this was a regular occurrence then.
Heyward glared at him, his face then becoming confused at seeing Marianne amongst them, the contrast glaring.
"It's island rules, asshole," JJ added, hurriedly drawing Mr. Heyward's attention onto him again, making Marianne glance sharply at him. "Day after a hurricane is a free day. Surely everyone knows that, even you, old man."
"Who do you think you're talking to, you lil prick?" Heyward snapped, jabbing his finger at JJ.
"Nobody in particular," JJ said airily, before suddenly yelling at Pope. "Now, Pope! Make the leap of faith, man!"
John B just as suddenly kicked the boat into gear, flinging Marianne forwards, Pope hurling half-hearted apologies to his father as he half jumped, half fell into the boat. At this display of filial disloyalty, Mr. Heyward shook his fist at his wayward son whilst cursing JJ to kingdom come. Meanwhile, JJ just smiled like the Cheshire Cat as he basked in the sun. Whilst John B then steered their course towards the horizon, Pope just sat there, hugging his knees to his chest. Feeling like she was going to throw up, Marianne slowly raised her head, only to catch Pope staring at her with that same wide-eyed expression of utter horror.
"What the fuck is your problem, man?" she snapped, even as he quickly averted his gaze away.
"Whoa, don't talk to my boy like that, bitch," JJ retorted, pointing at her. "First you insult the boat, now him."
"Maybe he shouldn't stare then, dickhead."
"Maybe you shouldn't stare first," JJ drawled, pointing at her with both hands this time. "Pope is pretty, I grant you that, but there's a difference between appreciating the view and perving" –
-"I wasn't perving over your precious pretty boy!" –
- "Said pretty boy saved your ass last night by the way," John B cut in, silencing Marianne and making JJ sink back in satisfaction.
Marianne narrowed her eyes at John B, who held her stare with that infuriating sense of implacability again. She still didn't really understand how she'd wound up at the Chateau, only that she'd found herself on the beach last night, staring at the stormy waves. Exhausted and upset, she'd just stood there in a trance, the water beckoning. Then she'd woken up on John B's sagging sofa, and now here she was, in the last place she wanted to be, out on the water.
"I'm sorry," she then said reluctantly to Pope, who just nervously glanced between her and John B, shrinking into himself. "Look, what's his problem!?" she snapped again, violently startling Pope. "Why does he look like he's on the edge of brandishing a crucifix at me!?"
"Because I spent all night thinking I'd left John B saddled with a corpse, man!" Pope blurted out, startling Marianne in turn. "You just turned up on the beach out of the blue, right? Just standing there, staring out at the water – then – and then you die – maybe, I don't know! You were as creepy as fuck by the way! Then my boys rock up with you sitting here, acting like nothing's up when you're right there and I just don't know what the fuck is going on, OK!?"
"Pope, my son, you really do think too much," JJ observed, tilting his head to the side. "I know you're a genius and all that, but sometimes you take the cerebral stuff too far, y'know?"
"Can't really blame him though," John B shrugged, "it was creepy as fuck out there last night with the storm and Marianne appearing out of nowhere, looking like a haint."
"A what!?" Marianne snapped. "Speak English, bro!"
"It means 'ghost', Landsman," JJ said lazily. "Scrub up on your local slang."
I can't let go when something's broken
It's all I know and all I want now…