2019-07-18 - Inquisitive Stranger

Edison says, "Hey. 🙂"

Warm summer days are made less pleasant when one's A/C has decided to retire to an early grave. Without the funds to properly fix it, Bennie has done what she does best: adapt. The windows are thrown open to trailer 18, and the door has been propped open. Still, it remains an oven inside so it's chased the blonde outdoors into a plastic strap lawn chair that sits on the edge of her lot so she can watch some of the children playing in a neighbor's sprinkler. Her feet are propped up on a cooler which must contain more of the canned beer she's currently holding to her cheek. Dressed in a pair of cut off shorts and a yellow tank, her hair is piled high onto her head in a messy bun, everything she can do to stay cool given the circumstances.

Someone else walks into the trailer park -- someone who doesn't live here. Someone dressed in clothing that doesn't suit the summer weather at all: a black suit with thin lapels, buttoned over a black shirt, paired with a black tie and shiny black dress shoes. Yet Edison doesn't appear to be sweating at all. He pauses not at all far from where Bennie is chillaxing to slide a black cigarette case from a pocket, extract an unfiltered cigarette, and light up with a match. As he exhales the first plume of smoke, he glances through it, eyes half-lidded, to the girl sitting yonder. A slow smile creeps onto his face, but he neither moves towards her nor says anything, yet.

It's not often a stranger makes their way into Huckleberry without being noticed. Curtains part, people peer. There is even the distant ring of a telephone as nosy neighbors call one another to spread the news of 'Did you see...?'

Bennie lefts a hand to visor across her eyes, head tilting slightly at Edison just standing there, casually smoking his cigarette like he stepped out of another time and place. There's a moment's hesitation - no doubt wondering if she some how got 'Lost' while sitting in front of her trailer - before she gives a cheery wave. Clearly, she's never met a stranger.

Edison doesn't wave back, but he does draw closer, exhaling another volley of smoke as he does so. He turns the open case towards her, offering a cigarette. "Care for a smoke?" There's an interesting lilt to his words, almost British, though it's hard to say. The sunlight makes it clear how very pale he is, too, like this is his first time venturing outside after a lifetime of living underground.

Bennie lowers her shading hand when he draws closer, tapping her nail on the top of her beer can before pulling at the tab with a satisfying hiss of carbonation. "Thanks, but no thanks!" She chirps. "It's not that I don't like smoking, I just don't like developing habits. Habits cost money." Speaking of, her cowboy boot nudges the cooler, "Beer?" It's Milwaukee's Best, aka The Beast. So if she's paying for habits, at least it's the low brow kind.

"One needn't develop a smoking habit, any more than one must develop a drinking habit from the habitual imbibing of beer," Edison points out, though he looks very amused. He pockets the case and eyes the beer. Perhaps going against type, the tall man bends down for a can, cracks it open, and then proceeds to chug it in a go, carelessly tossing the can away when he's finished. Strangely enough, he doesn't burp. Maybe he swallowed that, too. "Thank you."

Bahlink. It's not so much that Bennie is impressed by his draining of the can - which was niiice - but his careless tossing aside of the can. He might be in a trailer park, but it's not his trailer park, and that causes Bennie's thousand watt smile to dim a few degrees. "There are kids that play around here..." She intones lightly, hopefully he'll get the gist as her eyes go from the beer can to the trash can that are mere steps apart.

Edison glances from the can to the trash with barely a change in expression. "How foolish of me. I didn't see that at all." He lets the cigarette dangle from his lip as he bends down, picks up the can, and deposits it in the trash, wiping his hands off afterwards. "I was getting into the spirit of things, Ms...?" An expectant eyebrow raise towards her, now.

Bennie's smile renews to its previous brilliance, "If you were truly in the spirit of things, you would have crushed it against your forehead first." It's okay to make fun of oneself and situation, after all. She rests her own beer on her thigh as she leans forward and offers a hand ringed in cheap plastic jewelry she some how makes work to look high fashion, "Bennie Oakes. The miss thing is super sweet, but you can just call me Bennie."

Edison snorts at the crushing comment. He bends down from his considerable type to take the hand and give it a little shake. "It's a pleasure, Bennie. I'm Edison." If there's another chair near hers, he'll gesture towards it. "May I?"

"Sure! Help yourself, Edison. Like the inventor, right? Man, our parents sure know how to name them. At least you're named after the father of electricity, instead of a song by a man in rhinestone glasses. Although mine's more fun, sorry." There is in fact another chair, and although it's mismatched and missing one of the straps, it is entirely functional for the spidery man to settle into. "So....there something I can do for you, Edison? Like maybe give you directions to the right side of the track?"

"Yes, like the inventor," Edison drawls, not sounding thrilled about that. He folds himself into the chair, letting his long legs sprawl out like he's been here all along. He still has that cigarette, which he occasionally sucks upon. "I was just exploring," he tells her, staring at her for a long moment -- like he's trying to commit her face to memory. "Trying to get my bearings, understand the lay of the land. I haven't lived here long, you see."

There's a slight note of laughter in Bennie's voice as she leans back in her chair and tilts her face to the sun, eyes closed against the glare. "No, I had no idea." Because she did in fact have the idea that he was not a Townie. "So what brings you to our little slice of the West Coast? Most people say they're drawn here, so don't feel ashamed if that's your answer. Tell me the truth, I can handle it. I put on my big girl panties today."

To be fair, he's not exactly trying to hide that he's not a townie. He seems almost proud of it, in fact, though amusement plays on his face as Bennie laughs and he keeps smoking. "People say they're drawn here, do they?" His soot-colored eyes focus on her face again. "Why is that, do you think? As someone from the town, surely you must have some insight."

"It's tourist season, and we're cheaper than Providence." Bennie answers simply, shifting her shoulders against the plastic of her chair because she's starting to stick. A bead of sweat tumbles down the side of her face, and she lifts her open can of beer to her neck to cool herself. "Though you're a little over dressed for the heat of summer, and you don't look like you're a sun seeker. So maybe you were hoping for our rain."

"I see," Edison says, putting out the cigarette on the soul of his meticulously cared-for shoe. He glances around idly for somewhere to put the butt without having to get up again. "I didn't think you'd be getting rain in the middle of summer. I'm not so ill-informed." He crosses his right leg so the ankle is over his left knee, letting his fingers sprawl on his chin as he watches her. "Gotten many tourists this year?"

He could always toss it into a flower pot that looks like it has a few other butts in it. "The sky in Gray Harbor can open up any moment, don't let the heat fool you." Bennie's head lulls to the side to direct her smile to Edison, one eye cracking open. "It's been a bit slow, but the only place I really feel it is in my tips at the diner. I waitress at the Grizzly sometimes. What do you do, Edison? If you're not here for tourism."

That is indeed what he ends up doing -- languidly, like he seems to do everything else. Apart from chugging that beer. "I was going to ask what you do," Edison says, pleased she's provided her occupation. "I'm Hyacinth Addington's personal assistant. Do you know her?" He figures he at least knows ''of'' her, given the Addington reputation in this town.

"Aaah." Bennie says, as if that sheds some light on the subject that is Edison far beyond his occupation. She takes a sip of beer, returning it vaguely to the same place on her thigh where she doesn't seem to mind the condensation that rolls off of it. "That explains your fancy digs." So yes, it's fair to say she knows of Hyacinth, or at least the Addington name. "How is she doing, anyways? In light of...y'know..." All the family deaths recently.

Edison briefly glances down at himself, as if to say -- oh, this old rag? I found it in the bin. But he doesn't actually say anything about his fancy digs at all, instead looking back to Bennie, studying her face. "Ms. Addington is very resilient. She will move past these recent tribulations soon, and I will help her to overcome them." A little smile plays on his face. "News travels fast in a town this size, always."

"Spoken like a true personal assistant. But let us know if she needs casseroles or baked goods. The town is pretty good at rallying food in times of crisis. She wouldn't need to cook for a year." Bennie pitches forward, nudging open the top of the cooler and grabbing out a piece of ice to munch and crunch on loudly. "I'm also an EMT, so I suppose I have an unfair inside track when it comes to news of a certain sort."

"I would be happy to let her know," Edison says, eyes riveted on her face as she begins crunching. "An EMT who waitresses? You must like stress." A beat, and his pointy shoe briefly bobs up and down. "What other interesting news have you heard of late?"

"Oh, I do all sorts of things." Bennie shrugs away the notion of liking stress, she's used to people having opinions on how many proverbial cookie jars she has her hands in, though if Edison has any sort of finger on the pulse of the town - more so than he's letting on - it's common knowledge the blonde is up to her eyeballs in debt thanks to her father. You can't pitch a penny without hitting someone she probably owes that penny to. "Other interesting news? Well, the assassination of JFK was an inside job, but that's according to Kevin." Other than that, she doesn't seem too forthcoming with spreading gossip to a stranger.

"Is Kevin a source worth believing?" Sadly for Edison, he's interrupted by a buzzing in his pocket. He stands up as he glances down at the black phone he's just p-[p]p[]'

"Is Kevin a source worth believing?" Sadly for Edison, he's interrupted by a buzzing in his pocket. He stands up as he glances down at the black phone he's just removed from his pocket. "Bennie, I'm sure we'll meet again. It seems inevitable." She's all over the place, after all. With that, he takes his black-clad, angular self away from the trailer park, back to who knows where.