I would like to be able to say that after three years on the island, people popping into existence in front of me was totally passe, but that would be a lie. There was no predictability to it, so you never really got used to it.
I'm telling you all of this because yes, okay. I dropped my cookies. Not in the metaphorical sense; I literally dropped my pan of cookies right to the floor. A fully-grown man had just climbed out from under a table that had previously been unoccupied; I think I was justified.
"Holy-" I began, biting back a curse as I leapt out of the way of the clattering pan. "That," I sighed, pointing to the guy, "is never going to not be freaky."
For a moment, Raylan's got nothing; his gun stays in his hand, and he stays on his guard, but then he registers what he's actually looking at; girl, cookies, kitchen. No sign of Boyd and Ava. No cabin out near Bulletville. He blinks and looks down at the gun in his hand.
Maybe he's dead. Maybe Boyd had Heaven really, really wrong.
"Look," I began, keeping my eye on Tabula Rasa's newest arrival as I slowly stooped to begin picking up scattered cookies, "I'll make you a deal, Cowboy. You put the gun away and I'll tell you what the hell just happened to you."
I paused, cookie pieces cupped in one hand, and canted my head. "Well, mostly."
Confident in the knowledge that he can get his gun out of its holster pretty quickly if he needs to, he thumbs the safety and slips the gun back under his jacket. The movement scatters glass and sawdust from his shoulders and out of his hair.
Eventually, lessons drilled into him by his Aunt Helen kick in.
Zelda had been on the island long enough to know that people appeared and disappeared at random. She'd not yet had to experience loss, but she had experienced arrival and as disorienting as it was for her at least she had some solace in knowing that the island was a better place. She didn't know if others got such a sense of peace and tranquility.
This man appeared to be new, if his incredulous words meant anything, and Zelda tilted her head slightly as she appraised him.
"I suppose that last you checked you weren't marooned on an island?"
It's automatic; his gun comes up and, for a moment, he just stands there before his brain clicks back into place. Kitchen; nowhere near the cabin out near Bulletville. No broken glass. No bullet-holes. No sign of Ava or Boyd. Raylan drops his weapon, but he doesn't thumb the safety, not just yet.
Zelda bit her lip lightly, trying to decide how best to explain. Some people believed in magic, after all, and some did not. She didn't know where this man fell on that particular spectrum and upsetting someone on arrival was far from what she wanted to do.
"It may be a bit hard to believe, but this is an island in the midst of a sea that nobody in my experience is actually familiar with. People appear and disappear at random, I've found no pattern to it, but otherwise it is a relatively safe place to live."
That explained, she blew out a slow breath. "And I'm Zelda."
None of this makes any fucking sense. It's been a long twenty four hours. In the last twenty four, he's been shot out, sold out, he's put a bullet in Arlo and he's narrowly avoided taking a bullet himself and now...what? Some kind of psychotic break? Heaven?
He shakes his head.
"Okay, Zelda," he says, taking the decision to slide his gun back into his holster. "You're going to have run that past me again. Slower."
Juliet leaned down so that she was halfway to meeting the guy who was apparently hiding under the table. This wasn't exactly what she expected when she came to get coffee, but given some of the weird things she'd seen in her time, it wasn't totally out of left field. "Hi," she greeted brightly. "Anything interesting down there?"
Raylan straightens, gun still in his hand, and he doesn't bring it up. He doesn't thumb the safety on it, either. Bits of Beau's cabin scatter from his hair and shoulders.
"Is that a gun?" Coraline asks curiously not even blinking at the suddenly appearing man. If there was trouble, Coraline was almost certain to be found. And guns especially around a curious teenaged girl would always be trouble. "Are you going to shoot me? Because if you are then can I at least have my juice first and then write an I told you so note."
Coraline puts her juice down and adds as an afterthought. "It's a nice gun by the way."
They call it "muscle-memory", when your body goes on without needing your brain's advice. Raylan's gun ends up back in holster before he's even thought about doing anything, safety thumbed. He stands up, slowly, scattering glass and wood-chips all the way around him.
"Yes, it's a gun. And, no. I'm not goin' to shoot you."
"Oh, good then because I'd hate to have to defeat you. I'm very quick like a cat," Coraline said seriously squinting her face as she tries to decide if he's a cowboy. He's got a gun like a cowboy and he sounded like a cowboy. "You know you just appeared out of nowhere right? Do you want me to tell you why? Because I can or I could get you cake."
Rachel absolutely freezes for a second, which is probably pretty smart since there's a guy with a gun hiding under the table. Covered in....all sorts of crap.
"Hey," she says softly as she crouches down. "Are you okay? You like, just got here didn't you?"
A second and Raylan's on his feet, scattering glass and wood-chips, his gun up and still in his hands, and then he registers where he is or, rather, he registers where he isn't and he drops his gun again.
"I...yeah." He looks up and around. "Yeah, I did."
"Okay," she starts, still a little wary about the gun and the crazy look in the admittedly hot guy's eyes. "I'm guessing you probably aren't going to shoot me, so just...sit down for a second. You're covered in glass."
She turns around and grabs a couple of hand towels and wraps them around her hands.
The gun goes back into his holster but he doesn't sit, still standing, looking around him, taking the kitchen in. It's jarring; he keeps expecting to close his eyes and open them and find himself back in Beau's cabin, but nothing's forthcoming.
Comments 95
I'm telling you all of this because yes, okay. I dropped my cookies. Not in the metaphorical sense; I literally dropped my pan of cookies right to the floor. A fully-grown man had just climbed out from under a table that had previously been unoccupied; I think I was justified.
"Holy-" I began, biting back a curse as I leapt out of the way of the clattering pan. "That," I sighed, pointing to the guy, "is never going to not be freaky."
Reply
Maybe he's dead. Maybe Boyd had Heaven really, really wrong.
"...You're tellin' me," he says.
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I paused, cookie pieces cupped in one hand, and canted my head. "Well, mostly."
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Confident in the knowledge that he can get his gun out of its holster pretty quickly if he needs to, he thumbs the safety and slips the gun back under his jacket. The movement scatters glass and sawdust from his shoulders and out of his hair.
Eventually, lessons drilled into him by his Aunt Helen kick in.
"Lemme help you with that, Ma'am."
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This man appeared to be new, if his incredulous words meant anything, and Zelda tilted her head slightly as she appraised him.
"I suppose that last you checked you weren't marooned on an island?"
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He stares at her for a long moment.
"...No?"
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"It may be a bit hard to believe, but this is an island in the midst of a sea that nobody in my experience is actually familiar with. People appear and disappear at random, I've found no pattern to it, but otherwise it is a relatively safe place to live."
That explained, she blew out a slow breath. "And I'm Zelda."
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He shakes his head.
"Okay, Zelda," he says, taking the decision to slide his gun back into his holster. "You're going to have run that past me again. Slower."
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"...Not exactly," he says.
Maybe he's dead?
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Coraline puts her juice down and adds as an afterthought. "It's a nice gun by the way."
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"Yes, it's a gun. And, no. I'm not goin' to shoot you."
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"You reckon you could do both, sweetheart?"
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"Hey," she says softly as she crouches down. "Are you okay? You like, just got here didn't you?"
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"I...yeah." He looks up and around. "Yeah, I did."
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She turns around and grabs a couple of hand towels and wraps them around her hands.
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"...What the hell just happened?"
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