2020-06-12 - Checking Out the New Guy

It's a warm and drizzly day in Gray Harbor. Not quite hot, but muggy enough that the misting rain is a bit like a second skin, moving with people as they try to go about their daily lives. It means the place isn't all that busy - but it's not dead. Harborites are used to this kind of weather. Alexander has walked up to the business, looking as he usually does, which is to say a lot like a homeless guy, in ill-fitting clothes and an oversized green army jacket with the insignia removed, his eyes darting from one place to the next with constant, restless energy. Tourists give him a sideeye, townies give 'Crazy Clayton' a wide berth, and if he notices either, it doesn't stop him. He seems to have a purpose as he roves through the outside plants, although he does stop to look at a few bulbs and saplings here and there.

Over by the big bags of fertilizer, Jefferson Jackson is moving heavy stuff into the bed of a truck. Despite being middle aged the ex-con moves pretty smoothly. Not easily, mind, but he's got a good pace and knows how to not hurt himself. As he loads up the big sacks of products, stacking them all up against the back of the cab, he next goes for some large potted plants, making sure they're not going to fall over and get hurt. Even without the light drizzle it's possible Jeff's plain white tee shirt would be damp anyway. His blue jeans and work boots have some mud on them from where he's already been working in people's gardens today.

As soon as he gets the last plant into the truck bed he closes the gate and takes a deep breath, wiping moisture off of his forehead with a handkerchief pulled from a back pocket. Taking the opportunity for a little break he looks around to see if anything's changed. Not too far off he spots the strange figure in the surplus jacket and his eyes narrow slightly. Finally, something seems to click in his head and a faint smile appears on his lips.

Alexander's roving eyes land on the loading area. His eyes also narrow for a moment, but it doesn't get replaced by a smile as he meets Jefferson's eyes. He does, however, turn and start walking in that direction. No longer a rangy little kid with wild eyes tagging along behind cops and breaking into things that he really shouldn't have been, Alexander is starting to go a little grey in his hair, and there are lines at the corner of his eyes. He comes to a halt just outside of Jefferson's reach. "Jackson. Jefferson Jackson. I heard that you were back in town. Working here?" A slight frown. "Why?"

Tact was never one of Alexander's strong points. He seems to realize that after a moment, then coughs, and says, "Hello. It's been a while." It's like he's reciting it from a cue card somewhere.

As Alexander approaches Jefferson gives him a casual sort of wave. Then the questioning starts immediately and Jeff just seems to go with it, "I need a job and I wanted to work outside after being locked up." Then he lifts his chin, "How have you been, Alexander? It's good to know that you're still curious about folks. Found out anything good lately?" The older fellow looks pretty relaxed, but he's still acting fairly polite. "Did you need a hand with anything from the shop side of things? I don't work that side of things, but I might still be able to give you a hand."

Alexander stares at Jefferson, his expression blank and flat as Jefferson replies. "I like August," he says, after a moment. "He's a good guy." A pause, then he sighs, reaches up and rubs at his face, wiping away a film of rain that immediately reappears. "I've been okay. Police chief was killed. That's a problem, for a lot of reasons. Did you know there's another world? You stand out now. I don't remember if you stood out before." He cuts himself off from the fast-paced rambling, stops, takes a breath. "Help? I...maybe. I wouldn't mind getting a small fruit tree. I have a space where one could go." He licks his lips. "How are you? Are you well?"

"I like August, too," Jefferson says agreeably. "Seems like a really good guy." Yeah, the face wiping thing doesn't do a lot of good, but there's another attempt on Jeff's part. "Heard about the Police Chief. Never met the guy, but it seems like a lousy thing to happen," the felon frowns deeply at that. "I hope that gets wrapped up quickly. Might be a mess if it's not." And the other world remark. It's odd enough that Jefferson's eyes widen while he processes it, studying Alexander for a few seconds. "Tell me about this other world. Do you mean literally another world? Or like, there's a bunch of things going on that normal people won't pick up on?" At the tree suggestion Jefferson says, "Apple trees grow really well up here." And at the last question he nods, "I'm well, thanks. Been learning the new job and stuff. You?"

"He is. He's a very good guy. Gets involved with people. Will probably try to give you advice on your personal life and remind you not to do stupid things," Alexander mutters, but with obvious fondness. His feet shift nervously on the ground, digging small furrows in the dirt. "And yes, Thatchery's death will be a problem." He glances away, then back as Jefferson asks those questions. He doesn't avoid gazes - on the contrary, he tends to have a rude, direct stare, like he's trying to pry open the brain of whoever he is looking at. "Yes. Both of those things. Obviously. Have you gotten lost, yet?"

A pause. "Apple trees are nice," he says, after a moment's thought. "Do you have any apple trees? And I felt someone get her head exploded by what might be a being purely constructed of primal energies. And I sat on a chair that used to be a unicorn." Another pause. "It's been a little weird. Lately."

"I won't turn down good advice. I can use all I can get, after all, never had a real job before," Jefferson replies with a bit of a smile. "I haven't gotten lost yet, no. I might have to start looking into weird stuff, though. Don't want to see anybody get hurt by it."

Then he nods, "Yeah, we've got a few varieties of apple trees. With the shorter growing seasons up here we tend to stock earlier ripening varieties." And then Alexander says as bunch of words that almost make sense. Jefferson nods his head at them, then says, "Yeah, that sounds really weird."

"You will see people get hurt by it," Alexander says, plainly. "Especially if you go looking. You should probably not do that. It's not a wise thing." He tilts his head to one side, clear skepticism about not wanting to see anyone get hurt, but he manages not to immediately shout anything about it, proving that he has grown since being a kid. "It was weird. But apples are good." A pause. Then something that almost approaches a smile. "Do you like it here?"

"I don't plan on looking for any trouble. I put all that stuff behind me, but if I can keep someone who doesn't deserve to get hurt from being hurt in the first place I'll probably step in," Jefferson replies with a nod, studying the other guy closely. "Apples are good. There's plenty of varieties to them, so you can find the ones with the right sweetness or tart, depending on what you want." That near smile on Alexander's face gets a real smile from Jeff, "Yeah, I like it here a lot. I get to work with plants, which is something I find suits me. I'm outside a lot, which I like. I get to see stuff looking nicer after I get through with it, which makes me feel really good."

Alexander makes a noise. It's noncommital, but not immediately skeptical, either. He does say, after a moment, "It's good to have people willing to step in, if people are hurt." A bob of his head. "I prefer sweet apples. Tart apples are better for cooking, but I haven't master baking. It usually ends in fire. And my house is a rental. Not the greatest thing to set on fire. So, sweet instead." The odd sort of smile on his face brightens fractionally. "It's nice. Taking something that's plain or empty and putting growing things in it. I garden, too. It helps." He looks at the bags. "Do you need help loading things?"

"If things are getting as bad as I've got an inkling that they are I might need to sign up for first aid classes, start carrying some medical supplies with me," Jefferson says with a shrug. Then he's onto the other subject, "Sweet apples are really good. I'm not much of a cook, either, but I generally avoid setting stuff on fire." With a smile and a grin Jefferson says, "It's a good way to keep busy, make stuff nicer and to grow your own food. I started working on a vegetable garden at my trailer." The offer of help is met with a head shake, "No thanks, everything's loaded for now. Just waiting on some of the other guys to get back so we can head out to the next site."

"That helps. First aid. It always helps." Alexander stares at him for a moment. "You seem calmer. Than you did. That's good. And I'm learning to cook. August is helping. And Javier. And the internet. YouTube can teach just about anything except forensics. But a lot of the 'cooking hacks' are bullshit. Chemistry and physics don't work that way." He smiles. "I have a few plants that grow well inside. If you want cuttings, you can have cuttings." He toes the dirt again, and bobs his head. "Good. Sometimes the plants go strange, so be careful."

"Once I get some more money saved up I'll take some classes, then," Jefferson says with a nod. Then that nod repeats itself, "I think I've chilled out a lot. Gotten older, for one thing, so that probably doesn't hurt." There's a big smile next, "It's a good skill to have. Mostly I just microwave stuff, personally." And at the suggestion of cuttings Jeff nods once more, "I'd love to get some, actually." Then his head tilts to the side a little bit, "I heard something about plants not behaving sometimes. Acting more like predatory animals and stuff like that."

"I can show you basics. Don't have to pay me. But if you want, I'd like to learn some things." Alexander's eyes twitch to the side. "But you can have the cuttings regardless. I don't live far from the trailer park. I can bring them over." He frowns, then nods, slowly. "You believe that? That plants act like that?" Now he doesn't meet the other man's gaze, but rather looks at him out of the corner of the eye, as he studies the other employees and customers as they move about, oblivious to the idea that plants might go for a stroll.

"I'd appreciate it, actually," says the older dude with a grin. "And I'll see if I can teach you something in exchange. Don't know what that might be." There's a little chuckle. "Yeah, I'm at lot 20 in the park. Off white trailer with a little veggie garden out front." When Alexander looks around so does Jefferson, who shrugs his shoulders, "There's a lot of weird stuff out there. Who the hell am I to say something does or doesn't happen."

Alexander pauses, then nods. "Then I'll bring them by. Soon. I'll text. If you have a phone." He rattles off his own number without waiting to see if Jefferson has a phone or wants his number. "Don't mention to August that you're growing veggies, unless you want many more. He brings boxes." It's fond, again, but almost secretive at the same time, like it might somehow stop if he speaks too loudly. "There is a lot of weird stuff. Yes. My garden tried to eat us once. It wasn't its fault, though."

"Sure, I've got a phone. Got it as soon as I got back," Jefferson says as he produces the device. "I'll keep it on the down low, then. I've only got so much room in my garden and I want a little of everything." Then his head nods, "Yeah. That's really strange, but I'll keep an eye out when I'm working for more weirdness. I think you and I might be better suited to helping people with stuff like that than others are. Not that I'm really good at my own weirdness, it kind of seemed to fade while I was away, but it might just be another skill I need to develop."

That's when his phone receives a text. Jeff looks at it and says, "I've got to run. Let me grab your number real quick and I'll text you so you have mine. We can meet up after I get off of work and take a shower if you want."

"If you want." Alexander's voice is diffident, almost toneless. But he gives his number again, this time slow enough that it can actually be entered into his phone, and he checks his own. "Jefferson Jackson. I will remember. You can contact me." A pause. "Sorry to have interrupted your work," he adds, with an apologetic shrug. He turns, then, and starts shuffling away, without anything like a 'goodbye' or 'have a nice day' to bring the conversation to a close.