Survival Of The Fittest

"WANT--TRAVEL--WITH--YOUR--SCHOOL?"

He stared. She met his gaze. Never looked at his hands. Rude 'cept when you didn't understand. She always understood.

"NO."

He didn't make it hard.

Regina squinted. "YOUR--FRIENDS--GO?"

"YES."

"CURIOUS--STAY--WHY?"

A shrug. "NOT--CARE."

Not a new topic. She wanted him t' get out more. See people more. Talk more. Usually she wouldn't press much harder, but she weren't stoppin'. "GOOD--EXPERIENCE--LEARN--MANY--THINGS--SEE--BEAUTIFUL--ART--EAT--NEW--FOOD--LAUGH--PLAY--PARTY." One of her eyebrows went up. "HAVE--BETTER--PLAN?"

Jeremiah let his head tilt towards the floor. Hesitation made his signs clumsier than usual. "DISLIKE--TRAVEL--FAR--MISS--YOU." There was no response for a minute, maybe two. Mighta pulled it off. Then he felt a finger below his chin draggin' him back up t' face her smile.

"BLU-J--GOOD--BOY--BUT?--BAD--LIE--PERSON." Regina was laughin'. He tensed up out of habit but relaxed quick; she didn't make him feel small when she laughed. Kinda the opposite. Sheepish grin smoothed over his face.

"OKAY. LAZY. TRAVEL--HARD."

"YOU--GO. FORCE--IMPROVE--YOU." Her eyes was gentle, but firm. He weren't gonna wiggle outta this. "UNDERSTAND," he signed and started t' turn away, but she caught his shoulder. "PROMISE?"

"WHAT?"

"MEET--NEW--PEOPLE--DO--NEW--THINGS."

He tried t' look away with his hand crossin' his chest. "FINE--FINE." She caught him again with that same disbelievin' look on her face. "BLU-J--BAD--LIE--PERSON."

"BOTHER--BOTHER--FINISH."

--------------------------------------------

So far it weren't that much different from home. Nia was draggin' him along through a museum and havin' the time of her life signin' away exhibits he wouldn't remember in five minutes, and he was noddin' nice and polite anyway. Her company was good enough, he woulda missed her if he stayed home. His bargain was only half-way honored right now but there was time. There was strangers all over the place, and if you wanted t' get technical-like as long as he said hello t' one of 'em he was meetin' new people, mm?

That weren't gonna fly with the boss lady. Barely flew in his own head, but it was a start. Maybe Nia'd have a better idea. He made a groan and waved t' get her attention. "EXCUSE--ME--SISTER-N--WE--GO--WHERE?"

"WE--STAY--HERE."

Nia shrugged idly, pointing at a lengthy card explaining the ins and outs of the United States Constitutional Convention.

"READ."

It probably wouldn't keep his attention for very long, but she had found it interesting, so maybe he might. A long shot, but possible.

>> Apollonia "Nia" Karahalios continued from Room 808: Low On The High End

If Nia were to be frank, she would have to admit to being somewhat disappointed, though only through her own error, which made it somewhat hard to justify. Her research on things in the DC area had lead her to create an itinerary that should have given her a reasonable amount of time to visit every museum she wished to visit which was, of course, all of them. But despite her fairly extensive planning she had made a rookie error; that was, she had mistaken the National Archives Museum for the National Archives. And so she had blocked out several hours of research time for what turned out to be the wrong location entirely. Not that she regretted visiting; there was something fascinating about seeing such important historical documents in the metaphorical flesh, complete with surprisingly in-depth reference material. Mostly nothing she didn't already know, of course, but still. It had been worth the trip.

It was probably at least slightly less boring for Jeremiah than the actual National Archives would have been.

She eyed him. It had been surprising to her that he'd decided to come along on the trip to begin with; she was sure he had not originally planned to and she herself had not planned on insisting. Jeremiah was her brother, and she was not his keeper. It was a pleasant surprise to have him along, but she had been so intent on following her own plans that she hadn't given him much choice but to follow them. Perhaps that was inconsiderate of her.

She waited for him to finish reading the placard, or at least for him have stopped paying attention to it, and caught his eye.

"YOU--WANT--GO--WHERE?"

She supposed she was open to suggestions.

Jeremiah's eyes glazed over before the second sentence. Nothin' here kept him for long. Near as he could tell it was a bunch of dead men who talked like they knew more than they did gettin' bootlicked by folks who knew even less. Nothin' for him t' get involved with, though he was startin' t' figure Regina must have roped Nia in on their deal. Prolly had good intentions, but there weren't no keeping up with her here. He massaged his temple until he saw her trying t' get his attention. Those big shoulders shrank at her question; hell if he even knew where they was, he'd been relyin' on her t' jerk him around wherever she wanted t' go. He grunted and reached int' his back pocket for their map.

He made her wait as he unfurled slow as could be, held it way out of her reach, and chewed his lip studyin' it. That dragged on about as long as he thought he could get away with before she'd jab him somewhere he'd remember; with another grunt for attention he stooped down and stuck his finger on the museum. He tapped it a few times, then dragged his finger across the map in the direction he guessed was back tpwards home. When she got tired of the bit she'd find him smilin' wider than usual. "NOT--CARE," he started once the map was crumpled in his pocket, "HAPPY. LIKE--YOU--TELL--ME--THINGS--YOU--LEARN. NOT--KNOW--WHERE--GO. YOU--DECIDE? EASY."

Maybe he could be a little more cooperative. "CURIOUS. WHERE--DECLARATION--INDEPENDENT?"

He was teasing her. Not unusual, in the least; her smile was wry but genuine. She nodded to him and walked the approximate twenty paces it took to reach the Declaration of Independence, covered by glass, surrounded by more reading material that likely interested her more than him. The document itself held her interest, if only for a moment. The physical existence of something she'd seen so many times in pictures, in quotations, in transcriptions, was oddly fascinating, as it had long since transcended existence as a simple piece of paper. Yet here it was, as just that. Badly faded, essentially unreadable, but present.

The moment passed, though, a memory filed away. She scanned the information provided and did not find a bit she knew that she figured Jeremiah would find interesting, so she waved to catch his attention.

"DECLARATION--INDEPENDENT--HOW--MANY? THIRTY-FIVE. COPY--COPY--COPY--UNDERSTAND?" She waited for a nod of recognition before continuing. Technically there were more than 35 copies, that was only counting the two primary broadsides, but she couldn't recall the exact number at the moment, and she didn't imagine the exact number would be a point of contention with him. "LOST--ORIGINAL--BUT--NOT--SIGN--ORIGINAL. SIGN--FIRST--COPY. FIRST--COPY--HERE. MANY--DIFFERENT--COPY--MANY--DIFFERENT--PLACE. COPY--HERE--SIGN--COPY--SPECIAL. UNDERSTAND?"

Perhaps she was wrong to think he would find it interesting. Perhaps it was more accurate to say he found things more interesting coming from her than from dry paragraphs of text. Perhaps that qualified as affection. She returned it, nevertheless.

When Nia's hands stopped movin' he stared into the glass. If he'd paid any attention it would have been impossible t' miss. Huge gold letters marked the stone over it, and its gaudy frame didn't hide it much better. Weren't his show t' run though, and she didn't seem too bothered that he couldn't spot it on his own. Special, she called it. "YES," he signed back without lookin'. The text was barely there. If he'd found it on his own he might not have figured it for the real thing. Looked old enough but the pictures had it in better shape. Least ways you could read the damn thing in 'em. He waved t' get Nia's attention.

"LOOK--SAME-AS--SHIT. CANNOT--READ. GET--NEW--COPY--MAYBE?"


He was only half jokin'. Didn't make much sense t' hold on t' the past like this. Weren't nothin' special about blank paper. If the words mattered, shoulda saved them instead of this. Those coulda been written in gold on a stone wall. Instead there was just a name and a vague idea that could be whatever the fuck you wanted. The more he thought through that line of reason the more angry he got. He wanted t' break somethin'. Hurt someone. Nah, actually. Weren't as vague as all that. He didn't have a name or a face, but he wanted someone responsible. Somebody he could blame for it, who he could grab by the collar and drag here. Somebody whose face he could press against the glass. Not press. Smash as many times as it took for it t' break through and make them stare into the wreckage, because maybe if all they saw was broken glass and blood it would shock him enough that he would finally let that twisted up image of her he'd built around her pictures on the wall the fuck go.

Mm. Yeah. Weren't thinking' about some paper in a museum anymore. 'bout added up.

Jeremiah's face had grown steadily darker as he worked his way through. He was shakin' now, teeth clenched so tight they might crack. Nia'd prolly tried t' get his attention, but he weren't here then and he shouldn't be now.

"FINISHED." The sign was sloppy. Not sure she even caught it. He didn't look back for a reply. By the time he was aware of his surroundings again he felt air blowin' over his flushed cheeks. Somehow he'd made it outside.

Goddamn. Why'd he go and do that?

And then he was gone.

Emotions were not Nia's forte. Individual human behavior was impossible to study from reading materials alone; the reasonable amount of interaction she got on an average school day was an adequate form of study, but it was hardly a field she considered herself well-versed in. Perhaps more importantly, it was not a field she much cared about. She preferred things that were concrete, discrete, steady. She preferred to move conversations from "how was your day" to "how did you learn to do that". And in more-or-less any other circumstance, had she invited a companion along with her on an excursion like this one and they ran off with little warning, with a sign Nia could barely interpret, she would have let them go. She wasn't done here, yet. Another half hour, perhaps.

Of course, the thing about the phrase "any other circumstance" was that it excluded the one at hand.

Should she go after him, though? She had seen this before, a few times, enough times, though never so suddenly, so seemingly causelessly. There was a reason, she was sure, but she could not yet piece it together with the available evidence. On one hand, he always calmed down, after a while. He had not yet lashed out or caused harm to another when in a mood like this one, at least not to her knowledge. She did not think her presence to be a particular aid in that regard; time seemed like the best medicine for this sort of thing. On the other hand, she hardly wanted him to think she was abandoning him. She loved him as much as she thought herself capable. That meant occasionally making minor sacrifices.

She weighed her options for a moment when another factor came to mind. While she hadn't seen him lash out in the past, there was a non-zero chance of him doing so going forward. Lashing out, or breaking something. Doing either while on a school trip in a city far from home seemed unwise at best.

A solid fifteen seconds had passed before she turned to follow him, her steps unhurried but purposeful; with his height and general athleticism if he intended on making an escape there was no chance of her catching up. Conveniently he had not chosen to do so. She walked around him the way you might do to avoid spooking a horse before getting his attention, her expression questioning.

"GO--WHY? WHAT'S-WRONG?"

Knowin' shouldn't do it didn't make no difference.

Knowin' he couldn't do it didn't make no difference.

Knowin' it was wrong, that he couldn't walk back from that kinda decision, didn't make no difference.

Knowin' it wouldn't fix a thing didn't make no difference.

Knowin' it wouldn't break nothin' bad enough to satisfy him didn't make no difference.

He coulda gone 'round and 'round in them circles all day if he wanted t' find a better reason. Didn't need one. It was standin' there tryin' t' get him t' move.

Puttin' it all on Nia weren't fair. Sold lotsa other folk short. She was right there though. They wasn't. Simple as ya like.

Jeremiah weren't suited towards thinkin' these things out. He knew he weren't supposed to hurt nobody. Regular Joe America might say it was wrong t' hurt your fellow man, or if he were more inclined to his own hide he'd worry 'bout retribution from law and land alike. Jeremiah didn't cotton to either line. Leastways he saw it his fellow man ain't done much for him lately and even if the law caught him favorable when they took him fro m Pa, things coulda gone another way. Things went another way for a long time. There weren't no debt to the law on his books.

Nia's face, though, if he did somethin' stupid. Regina's voice on the phone. Marigold, Andy, Beryl, Ameilia, plenty of others if he made himself think, and he made himself think. Real hard. Put him back on the ground. Been through too much t' throw it away now. He was makin' something of his sorry self. Ain't nobody need t' get hurt on the way.

Gave a deep exhale through his nose.

"SORRY. NOT--UNDERSTAND. REMEMBER--MOTHER. REMEMBER--FATHER. ANGRY."

He was overcompensatin' now. His hands moved formal like, stiff, slow, too precise.

"SORRY," he repeated a little easier. "NOT--WANT--BAD--THOUGHT. HAVE--STILL."

Still shakin'. Couldn't ditch the energy. Nowhere t' put it.

"I--SCARE--YOU?"

"NO."

She shook her head with no hesitation. Fear was far from her mind. Potentially irritation, had he actually made his escape or caused some sort of trouble before she had caught up to him, but that appeared to not be the case, so that faded from her mind. It was difficult, then, pinpointing what she felt as he made the causes of his distress known. "Concern" felt trite. "Worry" felt overblown. Curiosity, perhaps? But that felt inappropriate. She recognized the myriad difficulties of Jeremiah's personal situation, though she didn't feel herself quite capable of empathizing, and frankly felt it would be presumptuous to believe she was. She was interested, interested in his life and his feelings in a way that she wasn't with nearly anyone else, and that was due to a combination of the uniqueness of his story and the uniqueness of her affection for him.

It would be inappropriate to actually explain that in so many words. It wasn't as though it mattered. It wasn't as though Jeremiah didn't know who she was.

"NOT--SCARE. WANT--LEAVE? GO--HOTEL? GET--FOOD--MAYBE? HERE--PROBLEM. LEAVE? FIX--PROBLEM." She realized how dismissive that seemed after she said it and frowned, shaking her head. "NOT--FIX. HELP. LEAVE? BETTER."

She paused.

"BLU-J--WANT--HELP?"

Didn't know if he believed her. Stupid t' ask a question if you weren't gonna take the answer, though. No more pressin' on it. Nia weren't the best folk t' get emotional with anyhow.

"LEAVE--BETTER," he affirmed. "WANT--FOOD--MAYBE--NAP--MAYBE--FEEL--BETTER." 'course takin' her away for too long was a waste of her time. Too much for her t' see out here.

"SNACK--NOT--LUNCH. NOT--WANT--DISTRACT--YOU."

Scratched his chin real thoughtful. Weren't all that hungry. Other hand, not sayin' no to somethin' sweet.

"WE--CAN--GET--MILKSHAKE?"

((Jeremiah Anderson Continued in Room 711: Always Be Closing))

Nia smiled.

"PEANUT-BUTTER--BANANA--WHICH?"

She knew him. She preferred just vanilla, herself. You lost the essence of the thing in its complexities.

The National Archives Museum had been a bit of a disappointment, anyway. Maybe museums shouldn't be the be-all and end-all of her enjoyment of this vacation.

... Maybe not. She'd still have Jeremiah when they got back, after all. She'd still have Jeremiah always.

Presumptuous, she chided herself, but the sentiment lingered all the same.

>> APOLLONIA "NIA" KARAHALIOS: PREGAME END