2020-02-03 - Metric vs Imperial: the struggle is real

It's an ugly morning out there, but August can't let that keep him down. There's lights to be replaced at the shop, he needs to get rope ordered, and some idiot animal tore a hole in the chain link surrounding the fertilizer, so now he needs that too.

So he's at the hardware store with a shopping basket full of CFLs of various sizes and light levels, has a form filled out for the chain link and rope, and now he's perusing the tool wall. The old brick building is warm and dry; Carol and Nancy won't suffer mold, mildew, or damp in their store.

And there's Niall, all straight angles and silver hair, standing in front of a pegboard of washers, squinting at the various bolts, checking his phone, then squinting at them again. He's in his ranger gear, which means khakis, steel-toed boots and a park-issued parka. Park-a? His iconic hat sits far back on his head, which forms a halo with the hat brim. He glances over to August. "Am I blind or are there no 3.2 carriage bolts on this board?" He doesn't sound like he's from 'round these parts. In fact, he sounds like he's from the other side of the Pacific.

August considers Niall. He can see the Glimmer in him, and he'd know Park Ranger gear anywhere, so he's probably not from Firefly, or the part of Olympic he's most familiar with. "They'll be listed under Imperial, not metric." He gives Niall a wry, apologetic look. "We're still on that bullshit." He tilts his head, looking like he's doing math, or trying. "Sounds like...a little under a quarter inch? Like 3/8?" He points at a tray in the huge series of them, arrayed by size and type.

Niall quite literally smacks himself in the forehead. "Christ. Of course. Can you tell how often I buy hardware?" He grins at August, his eyes wrinkling in amusement. "I can build a lean-to in the middle of the back woods and trap a rabbit in a snare but apparently I can't purchase a replacement bolt for my IKEA desk." He tugs the appropriate package off the pegboard and shakes it. "Cheers." And as far as shiny goes, he's only about half so as August himself. It brings arched brows, but no outward comment. Always a bit of an odd subject to broach with a stranger.

August coughs a laugh. "Well if they," the Park Service, he likely means, "had you on a posting in the ass end of nowhere for a while that's an easy thing to relegate to 'not necessary' as compared to important things like eating and keeping your journal dry." He nods in response to the cheers, raises his eyebrows. "You're somewhere in South Olympic, I'm guessing? I think I've met most of the folks stationed at Firefly."

"And the bears. Don't forget the bears," Niall waggles a finger. But he doesn't elaborate just what about said bears. Then, "Yip. I did my time around a few of the far-out stations. New posting though, up this end. Close enough to civilization to move back into it. They've given me the reins of the Firefly station. God help 'em all. Already the place is falling apart." He shakes the bolts again. "Niall Tokoronga," he offers his hand. "I did used to work up this way a number of years ago. Mostly just went by Ranger Tok then." Head wobble. "...and also now."

"Oh, Firefly?" August sounds thoroughly amused. Or maybe sympathetic. Possibly a bit of both. "I've heard stories of what you all put up with in that station, so they could use the help." He accepts the handshake, grip firm and friendly. "August, Roen. I was in Forestry for a while, had a posting up in Hoh Rain Forest for a few years. Decided to come on down here, settle in a cabin. In Firefily, actually, out on the west end." He shifts his grip on the basket. "Are you from here, then? I mean," he gestures at Niall, probably meaning his accent, "not recently, but earlier on?"

"I've got family here. My mum was born here. So was I, but my folks took me back to New Zealand before I started talking. Got lots of secondteenth cousins and such." Niall waves vaguely. "But I only came out this way, um..." he sucks air between his teeth. "Seven? Years ago. Spent a bit of time round other parks, y'know, learning the ropes. Giving fire talks. And ones about birds. And lots," head bob, "...lots of messages about not littering or shitting in the woods."

"Ah--gotcha. So, despite the accent, a real local." A corner of August's mouth twitches in a 'how about that' sort of smile. "I'll admit, I liked the idea of the Parks Service, but when it came down to it, Forestry let me go on my own personal backpacking trips for work purposes. Not that it wasn't hard work, but..." He winces. "I don't envy you, the educating part. That's the Lord's work you're doing."

Then he gives Niall a longer, more considering look, seems to be trying to decide how to say something. His expression clears. "Come across anything new and interesting lately? Out in," he gestures towards Firefly, "the forest, or on the trails, I mean."

Niall cracks a grin at August calling him a 'real local.' "You're definitely the only one to ever call me that. Mostly I get, 'you sound funny' and, 'how'd you get a visa?' And, 'where's your kangaroo?' And I say, 'mate, New Zealand doesn't have kangaroos.' And they're shocked." He's sort of rambling, but seems to be doing so on purpose. "I don't mind it. I really believe that we need to give everyone a passion for the outdoors, especially the young ones. If they grow up loving and respecting the parks, then we'll still have 'em for a long time to come."

His eyebrows arch at the question. He head-wobbles. "Mhmm. I'm guessing you're not asking me what new and exciting fungi I've stumbled across. Truth is, I'm only just starting to really get to know this end of the park. But I've heard the stories."

August sighs. "Well I can't say I'm surprised that's what you get, even if it means people are too small minded to think of an existence other than the one they've known." He almost mutters it, looking annoyed. He shrugs that off.

"Actually," his eyebrows go up, "I would love// hear about any new and interesting fungi you come across, because I'm a botanist. But that much aside," he glances sidelong, like he's checking the aisle for any hangers on, "I did mean the ah, weird things. You know--'invisible ostriches', that sort of thing."

"There's one grove that's full of bioluminescent types. I actually managed to convince the bosses to re-jig an entire planned trail to keep people away from it. Because you know it'd just get destroyed. But I make my way there myself occasionally. It's quite something." Niall also glances down the aisles and pats the packet of bolts against his hand. "Well, you don't spend as much time as I have in the woods without seeing things. Not ostriches, specifically." A beat. "I don't think."

August is interested in this bioluminescent fungi. Very interested. He'd like to know more about it. But he was a Forester, he knows the value of private spots you keep to yourself, so he doesn't ask. The desire to do so is plain on his face.

"Well they are, to most reports, invisible." Which might be why Niall hasn't seen them, he seems to be implying. "Someone was going on about hearing them--they sing, like birds whistling to one another? That's the story, anyways." They could just be talking about a Tall Firefly Forest Tale like any two other men with shared experience.

Except for how they both Glimmer, and Niall's from this strange town.

"We could use someone who knows their plants to identify them. So we know if they're particularly rare, or poisonous." That's Niall's way of throwing a bit of a lifeline to August. He hesitates when they get into the weird talk. As a park ranger, it's his job to equip people for real, not imagined dangers. But what do you do when you know the fantastical dangers are real? But you can't promote them for fear of losing your job? You go chasing after idiot kids who heard an abandoned mine on the edge of the park was haunted, that's what you do. Because it probably is. "Come to think of it, I have heard some birds that don't sound right from time to time. But that can be echoes, or mating calls, or any number of things." But he doesn't sound overly convinced.

"I'd be happy to do it. In an official capacity, even, if you want, I've got all my old notes and material from Hoh." August tries not to look too excited by the prospect. He fishes out a business card. "This is a business card but, the number's mine." On one side it's for 'Branch & Bole', a garden shop, and the other 'Out on a Limb', an arboriculture service. It's a minimalist, double-sided piece, starkly done.

He makes a low sound about the birds. "Their tracks are,"he holds out a hand about the size of a salad plate, "big. Hard to miss. I've only heard one story of them on the trail, but..." A warning given. "There was also the, ah...cat. Sounded like some sort of panther-sized thing. Only, worse." He neglects to say worse how. Because it will sound utterly ridiculous. "Only one report of that. Maybe we're lucky and it left."

"We aren't lucky," says Niall with a scoff. "Sorry, was that my outside pessimism?" He cracks a bit of a grin and flips the card over. "So I can call you if a storm knocks a limb off a tree but we want to try and save the tree itself? We're sort of all about trees in the forest." Imagine that. His lips twitch. "I got real curious a few months back and took an audio recorder out into the woods when I was doing a trail patrol and mapping any damage. But it all sounded weird to me when I played it back. I don't know if I was using the right kind of microphone."

August nods, though he clarifies, "We'll do either. If it needs removing, well, we can do that, but we're happy to leave it where it is if it can be saved. I've got bucket trucks for use where ascending's riskier; we can climb if it's not where the trucks can reach. Cy and I were both Forestry, we're old hands at it, and we've got good people working for us."

He considers the notion of recording equipment. "Yeah, I've heard taking pictures doesn't work either. They come out...weird, blurry, unusable." He wrinkles his nose. "Kind of frustrating, makes it a bitch to document." He gets another hesitant look, like he's weighing what to say next. "There's more than a few people in town...investigating stuff. If you want to meet some of them, the Paranormal Society does meetings every now and then."

"Usually we try to seed nurse logs as much as possible for the health of the forest floor, all that jazz. Of which you probably know much more than I do." Niall pushes his already high-up hat back even further. It's a wonder it doesn't slide right off the back of his head.

As for documentation? He nods thoughtfully. "Mhmm. Makes sense. This sort of thing wouldn't be a big question mark if someone could easily take a picture or record it, I suppose." Then, "I have to be careful about...societies and things like that. Because..." he motions to himself. Government employee. Lending credibility to ghost hunting? Not so good.

August makes a low sound. "Mmmm, true, I'd forgotten about that part." The part where Niall wasn't his own employer. He scratches his beard. "Well you can feel free to drop by the shop if you have questions about...that sort of thing." His eyes narrow. "Someone suggested that it," the Weird Stuff, the Strangeness, "corrupts records, somehow. Like, even if you did get a picture, it would degrade. And people who can't see it, they'll just see gibberish anyways. So, yeah--one big question mark, stretching back a damned long ways."

"It protects itself. At least...we can believe each other? It'd be lonely and maddening otherwise." Niall drops his voice and moves a titch closer. "There definitely seem to be parts of the park that are...odder than others. But the problem is, the bloody woods in the dark or even on a really gray day can easily play tricks with your senses. It's really hard to tell what's my imagination and what's not. So I've tried leaning towards 'yip, you imagined it' unless it's something I can't ignore."

"That's pretty much the best way to go, in my experience." August sounds sympathetic. "The last thing you want is your job, or anyone in civic government, getting an eye on you as a troublemaker because you're talking about ghosts and," he waves a hand, "haunted lanterns, and whatever."

He huffs a laugh, nods. "Yeah, believing one another's about the best we can do." He checks his watch, sighs. "So look, I have an appointment to get to, but," he gestures at his business card, "I'm happy to talk about this, in a general sense, and if you're comfortable at least...meeting, other people who can do this sort of thing, let me know. I can put you in touch with folks who might be able to help if anything, ah, 'comes up'." He raises his eyebrows to see how Niall feels about that.

What Niall doesn't tell August, because it isn't his to tell, is that he's had a fair number of colleagues who he's had this kind of winking conversation with. To do this job so close to the Veil, someone has to be deeply in denial without a trace of Glimmer, or willing to accept it without getting so far into it they lose their jobs. "They'll tolerate a certain amount of fun ghost stories for interpretive purposes or to relay a bit of history.But any suggestion it's more than just a tall tale doesn't go over very well."

"S'all right. I've..." he slaps the packet of bolts against his hand, "...a desk to repair. Except..." a snap, "I'm doing that tomorrow. But I should be going in any case." As for meeting others? He thinks about it, then, "...if they're on the DL about it? It's a bit tricksy if I'm hanging about people known to poke into this stuff without a prior relationship. But...ah, quite tempted to take you up on that because Firefly has more of a reputation than where I was before."

"Well, conveniently for you, I own a garden shop, and I'm a former Forestry Service botanist, which means," August opens his hands, "you've got plenty of reasons to talk to me. In theory. And," he smirks, "half the town's into all of this. At this point I think the people who aren't in on it have stopped noticing simply because they figure it's all part of the town's ambiance." Gray Harbor ambiance--ha. As if.

"I suspect it had the reputation, just no one was sharing. Or maybe we don't notice, until we can." He pauses, never having thought of it that way. A shrug, then, "At any rate. Good meeting you, Niall. Take care." He offers his hand again.

"The ambiance of menace and spookiness. That should be on our Yelp review," Niall cants his head. "...do people still use Yelp? The WiFi is shit in most of the park." He says that dully, like it's a complaint when it obviously isn't. "You as well, sir," says the Kiwi as he shakes August's hand. "Happy...lightbulb replacing."