"You know," Michelle said as she pulled her jacket on outside the car, Beatrice standing on the opposite side waiting, "if you'd told me as a child that one day I'd get to see the place giant parade balloons are made, I would've absolutely lost my shit."
"And now?" Bea asked.
"I'm kinda absolutely losing my shit," Michelle replied, making Bea laugh as Michelle pulled her hair out from under the coat, adding, "guess I really am still just a kid at heart."
"That's important though. To keep that magic alive," Bea said, "once you lose it, once you become an 'adult', that's when you start dying."
Bea and Michelle walked around the car and headed towards the office building in front of them, the enormous warehouse looming behind it. Michelle never in her wildest dreams could've imagined where this job would've taken her, and was thrilled for every opportunity that it opened her up to. Beatrice, however...she'd been down this path before. She knew that commercialization was unavoidable, hell, even a necessity at some times, especially in this day and age...but this level of commodification...it was starting to feel like the pizza parlor all over again. Liam was signing deals she wasn't particularly enthused about and she was confused as to why when he'd been such a proponent of doing things her way this time up til now. As the women entered the office and approached the main desk, a man in a button down shirt and a tie looked up to greet them.
"Hello," he said, "do you have an appointment?"
"We're here to see the progress on the Beatrice Beagle parade balloon," Bea said.
"And you are?" the man asked.
"I'm Beatrice Beagle," Bea remarked, making the man laugh and nod as he stood up and told them to follow him. Heading down the halls, towards the back so they could exit to the warehouse where production was underway, Bea couldn't help but notice all the people in their tiny little offices in here, and how, in a way, she kind of longed for that simplicity. Maybe she'd quit the show, get a nine to five job, leave everything creative behind.
"Sorry," the man said as they walked, "I have to ask everybody, and I'm new here so."
"You're fine," Michelle said, hands in her coat pockets, smiling back at him, "you wouldn't want some random nobodies to come in and get unguided access to things, I get it."
The three of them continued further down the hall and out through the back doors, leading to a large, open area that led directly to the enormous warehouse they'd seen from out front. The man opened the door for them, allowed them to enter, and then excused himself back to the front office. As Bea and Michelle walked in - Bea looking around at everything skeptically, Michelle with her hands in her coat pockets smiling as she took it all in with childlike wonder - a crane started moving above them and a box attached to it dropped down slowly, with a woman inside it.
"Hey there!" she shouted, her voice echoing throughout the spacious area, "you here to see something?"
"How'd you know?" Michelle asked.
"We often get people dropping by the check on stuff," the woman said; she was in a jumper, with her hair pulled up, presumably to make it easier for her to work, she continued, "so who are you two here to see?"
"We're here to see a woman about a dog," Michelle said, making Bea chuckle. The way Bea saw it, if she had Michelle around, maybe these sorts of things wouldn't be so bad after all.
***
Casey was seated at the table in the break room when Liam sat down across from her. Casey put her book down, but continued shoveling chips from the bag in front of her into her mouth. Liam reached inside his coat and pulled something out, his voice low and calm.
"I have someone else to go see, but before I do that, I'm gonna slide you a piece of paper," he said, "and it's going to have all the information you need for your contact on it."
"Are you a spy?" Casey asked, "cause this is some secret agent kinda behavior right here."
"I just don't wanna be the guy who gets known for being able to find others for people," Liam remarked, smirking at her comment; he slid the paper across to her and she took it as he added, "just...please don't expect an amazing outcome, that's all I ask. More often than not these kinds of interactions wind up backfiring. If you haven't seen a person in twenty years, and you were rather ancillary to their life, chances are they've moved on, forgotten you and have settled into a comfortable routine now. So don't go looking for miracles."
Casey scoffed as she grabbed the paper with her free hand, wiping her chip greased hand on her shirt.
"As if miracles happen," she said, "I learned a long time ago that stuff like that was bullshit. You can pray to God every night, 'please make daddy stop hitting mommy', but it never comes true because there's nobody listening."
"You are way too young to be this bitter," Liam said.
"All I'm saying is people who believe in miracles are the same people who believe in fate," Casey said, stuffing the paper in her shirt pocket, "people who don't understand that sometimes cool things just happen or people who don't wanna take direct responsibility for their actions. Everything has to be offloaded to some magical guide in the sky. Who else you need to see, by the way?"
Liam didn't answer. He didn't need to explain his activities to her, but moreso he didn't want someone else going to get information on him. But he had to talk to someone. Liam stood up, straightened his tie and nodded at her.
"...I hope one day, maybe, you're able to view things in a less cynical light," Liam said, "sure, there's no proof of anything, nothing definitive anyway, and sure sometimes people go through a lot that justify their views on stuff like God, but at the end of the day, despite being proofless...is that a word? Well, either way, despite it, there's also no harm in simply believing in something good can happen too, or believing there's something watching over us that only wants the best."
"Funny," Casey said, putting her boots up on the table, "you never struck me as the religious type."
"I didn't say I am," Liam replied, shrugging as he grabbed his cane, "but at some point in life, I suppose, you get exhausted being dour all the time, and instead look for something good to throw the weight of your belief behind. I used to be like you, Casey, always certain the worst was all there was, and only bad things would keep coming. But look around at where you are now...you still believe that? Cause from where I'm standing, you've got things pretty good at the moment."
Casey chewed her lip and thought as Liam said his goodbye and exited the room, heading to another section of production. He had a point, and yet...
...and yet all she could do was feel anxious, waiting for the inevitable shoe to drop.
***
"This place is enormous," Michelle said with some awe as she looked around while they walked through the warehouse. Bea could hear the two women talking ahead of her, but she didn't really pay much mind to what was being said. Instead, all her focus, her attention, was turned towards the fact that there were dozens of balloons in here, all based on famous pre-existing fictional characters, beloved then and now, and all she could wonder is if this kind of treatment lessened their intrinsic artistic value. Eventually she saw Michelle had stopped near a door and so she stopped as well as Michelle said, "she needed to pee."
"You don't think I'm...uncompromisable do you?" Bea asked, "Liam said I constantly flip flop on wanting success and being scared of it, of wanting to share Bea with the world and wanting to keep her to myself, and that, eventually, I'd have to choose a side."
"I don't think uncompromisable is the right word," Michelle said, "I think you're steadfast. You hold true to what you believe in, even if it wavers from time to time, and that level of dedication to your beliefs is extremely admirable, believe me. But it has to get old, right? Constantly going back and forth like that?"
Bea sighed and leaned against the wall beside her, crossing her arms.
"It does," she said, "I can't deny that. I guess I just wish I had some level of proof that the people who love Bea, as a character, love her in the same way that I do. That she genuinely means something to their lives. That she isn't just another thing they can slap into their interests next to more famous characters as a part of their interests. I want her to be acknowledged as something greatly important, emotionally, not just..."
Bea sighed and rubbed her face.
"...not just a balloon."
"You should see their faces then," the woman said, coming out from the bathroom, taking them both by surprise; she continued, "the faces of the kids who come to see the parade. To a child, a fictional character IS real. They see them on the TV, they plaster stickers on their school binders, they get shirts with them on it, and then they come to see the balloon and their faces light up in the way that only a childs face can. This is something they identify with, not because it's 'part of their interest' or whatever but because, to them, it's something they see every day and that level of certainty, closeness, it means a lot. To some kids, ya know, it's a small bit of comfort having that routine while to others it's knowing they aren't the only ones out there who are like this character, and if people love this character, people might love them too if they're that similar."
Bea looked at the woman and nodded slowly, taking it all in.
"I know it's hard," the woman said, "cause, ya know, we are just making balloons, but...it does mean something. I assure you of that. They come here, maybe after a bad day at school or a bad week at home, and they see the balloon in the parade, and for one brief fucking moment in their tiny closed off lives...they don't feel so bad. So sure, to us, they're balloons. But to kids, maybe they represent hope."
With that, she turned and continued leading to them towards the space the Beatrice balloon was being made. The whole time, Bea thought over her words. She was right. Why had she spent so much time worrying about this when, in reality, she'd always known that, to a child, a character is life saving? Hell, that was what got her and Michelle in touch in the first place, was because Michelle had Beatrice when she'd been a sick little girl in the hospital, and it had truly saved her. Maybe it was time to let these doubts go.
Maybe it was time to give Beatrice to the world.
***
"This place is so empty," Liam said as he approached Eliza's workshop desk, causing her to spin in her chair and look at him, her jewelers loupe still on her face. She smiled as he dragged a nearby folding chair over and seated himself in it beside her, asking, "you really need all this space?"
"I atually do," Eliza replied, "yes. When production really gets going, I have to hang hundreds of puppets and props and stuff from the rafters, so the space is necessary. Why did you come here? Did you need something?"
"I needed to talk to someone," Liam said, "um...someone who isn't Bea. Someone else I've known a long time."
Eliza put her tools down, pulled the loupe off her face and turned fully to face him now, a somber look coming over her.
"...what's going on?" she asked.
"Eliza, I need to tell you something, and I need you to not tell anyone," Liam said, "but I gotta talk to someone because if I don't, I might go nuts, and I can't afford to be going nuts right now. So can you keep a secret for me?"
Eliza nodded, anxiety rising up within her.
"Okay," Liam said, exhaling and continuing, "...a while back I started going to the doctor. I was feeling...off. Like every other day something was wrong. I figured, you know, I'm older now, I should get these things looked at, lord knows I've got the insurance for it thanks to the show. So I started going. They do some tests. They find some things. They do more tests. Eventually I'm left with the truth that...that I don't have much longer to live. At this point, I've got a few months maybe, if that. I'm doing my best to hide it from everyone, but it's getting very hard. I'm having trouble being mobile, I'm having trouble focusing, and when I'm done with stuff for the day and I go home, I just pass out immediately. I'm telling you this cause, well, I...I'm scared, Eliza. I didn't want to admit it, and I wanna put up a brave face when the time comes to tell everyone, but I'm scared."
Eliza felt her eyes water. No. Not Liam. Not Liam please.
"I don't know," Liam added, sniffling, wiping his eyes on her sweater sleeve, "...I don't think I'm scared of dying. Obviously I'm not, I tried to kill myself after all, but I'm more scared of what me dying will do to others. To Beatrice. I need you to watch out for her for me, please. I've been by her side from almost the start, we built this thing up together, we are creative partners through and through. But at this point, she's gonna be without me, and she can't be alone. She has Michelle, and they are close, but you've known her longer. It has to be you, Eliza."
Eliza finally cracked and started crying. Liam knew this would happen, he knew she didn't handle loss well. He leaned forward and put a hand on her knee, patting it gently for reassurance. She wept soundly for a few minutes, then tried to catch her breath. After a bit, she looked back up at him and adjusted her glasses.
"Eliza," Liam said, smiling softly, "...it has to be you, you understand why right?"
"I do," she whimpered, "I do, yes."
"Okay then. I'm sorry, I know this is a lot to put on you, but-"
"I wanna help, cause I kinda caused my moms death, and I wanna make up for that," Eliza said quietly, making Liam's heart ache as she added, wiping her eyes on the balls of her palms, "I just wish I didn't have to keep losing everyone who meant anything to me."
"I know, kiddo," Liam said, "me too."
***
Casey was sitting in the car with Justine, parked across the road from a house as they watched intently. They had been doing work on another book, but during their lunch break Casey asked if they could go for a little drive. Didn't say why, and Justine didn't press her, but she was certainly curious. Sitting here now, eating her thai takeout as Casey sat behind the steering wheel, Justine couldn't help but feel as though they were cops on a stakeout. She stabbed some baby corn with her fork and ate it, speaking as she chewed.
"Are you following an ex around, is that what this is?" Justine asked, and Casey shook her head; Justine nodded and said, "okay, so long as you're not stalking someone. Well, you mind telling me what's going on then?"
"When I was a kid," Casey said, "I had his babysitter. She used to protect me from my mother, when she could anyway. Once she found out what my mother was doing, selling me to men to be used, she tried as hard as she could to get me out of there. Sometimes she'd snatch me away for a few days, just to make sure I was safe even for a little bit. I've been thinking about her a lot lately."
"And that's who we're watching now?" Justine asked, and Casey nodded; Justine unscrewed the lid to her water bottle, took a long swig and then said, "well, trauma does funny things to our brains. Like, after my plane went down, for instance, I found myself obsessed with plane crash movies. I would watch them on a loop. It was almost as though I were trying to recreate the moment, hope it came out differently. It never does, of course, but...but the hope was enough to carry me through."
Casey looked towards Justine who ate some beef strips and continued talking.
"It's weird, I know, but-"
"No...it isn't," Casey said, "cause I do the same thing with movies about babysitters. Or, really, any kind of movie where an adult cares for a child. It...it's comforting."
Justine smiled. She knew she had liked Casey for a reason, she knew they could relate to one another, connect on a level she wouldn't be able to otherwise with someone else. They'd both experienced such trauma, and yet they both came away relatively okay in spite of it. Sure they were a little dinged up emotionally, or in Justine's case physically even, but they had one another and they had a support system around them. That was more than most people in their situations got. Justine constantly counted her blessings in that regard.
"So you intend to speak with her?" Justine asked.
"I'd like to," Casey said, her eyes widening as the front door opened and a woman walking two young children to the car exited; she added, "...but what has conversing with adults ever gotten me?"
***
"It's gargantuan," Michelle said.
She, Bea and the woman were standing there looking up at the enormous Beatrice balloon. The woman smiled, patted Bea on the back and walked away, leaving them to have their privacy for a bit. Michelle shook her head, hands still stuffed in her coat pockets. She couldn't believe the size of this thing, she was in awe. She glanced over at Bea, who was standing there slightly slackjawed herself, and she smiled.
"What do you think?" Michelle asked.
"...I think...I think I'm okay with this," Bea said, "I took a dog who gave me her love and I turned around and gave that love to the world. If this is how the world wants to treasure her, then who am I to stop them, to tell them that the way they love is wrong? It's...it's so beautiful, so large. And what that woman said was true, honestly. Kids look up to characters as a source of safety, inspiration, they're as real to children as sports stars and celebrities are to adults. Bea deserved that. Liam was right. It's time for me to let go."
Michelle walked over to Bea and put an arm around her shoulders, Bea laying her head against Michelle's, and the two of them stood there like that for what felt like an eternity. Bea had no idea that Liam was on his way out...but if she had...
...she'd probably try to get him a balloon too.
"And now?" Bea asked.
"I'm kinda absolutely losing my shit," Michelle replied, making Bea laugh as Michelle pulled her hair out from under the coat, adding, "guess I really am still just a kid at heart."
"That's important though. To keep that magic alive," Bea said, "once you lose it, once you become an 'adult', that's when you start dying."
Bea and Michelle walked around the car and headed towards the office building in front of them, the enormous warehouse looming behind it. Michelle never in her wildest dreams could've imagined where this job would've taken her, and was thrilled for every opportunity that it opened her up to. Beatrice, however...she'd been down this path before. She knew that commercialization was unavoidable, hell, even a necessity at some times, especially in this day and age...but this level of commodification...it was starting to feel like the pizza parlor all over again. Liam was signing deals she wasn't particularly enthused about and she was confused as to why when he'd been such a proponent of doing things her way this time up til now. As the women entered the office and approached the main desk, a man in a button down shirt and a tie looked up to greet them.
"Hello," he said, "do you have an appointment?"
"We're here to see the progress on the Beatrice Beagle parade balloon," Bea said.
"And you are?" the man asked.
"I'm Beatrice Beagle," Bea remarked, making the man laugh and nod as he stood up and told them to follow him. Heading down the halls, towards the back so they could exit to the warehouse where production was underway, Bea couldn't help but notice all the people in their tiny little offices in here, and how, in a way, she kind of longed for that simplicity. Maybe she'd quit the show, get a nine to five job, leave everything creative behind.
"Sorry," the man said as they walked, "I have to ask everybody, and I'm new here so."
"You're fine," Michelle said, hands in her coat pockets, smiling back at him, "you wouldn't want some random nobodies to come in and get unguided access to things, I get it."
The three of them continued further down the hall and out through the back doors, leading to a large, open area that led directly to the enormous warehouse they'd seen from out front. The man opened the door for them, allowed them to enter, and then excused himself back to the front office. As Bea and Michelle walked in - Bea looking around at everything skeptically, Michelle with her hands in her coat pockets smiling as she took it all in with childlike wonder - a crane started moving above them and a box attached to it dropped down slowly, with a woman inside it.
"Hey there!" she shouted, her voice echoing throughout the spacious area, "you here to see something?"
"How'd you know?" Michelle asked.
"We often get people dropping by the check on stuff," the woman said; she was in a jumper, with her hair pulled up, presumably to make it easier for her to work, she continued, "so who are you two here to see?"
"We're here to see a woman about a dog," Michelle said, making Bea chuckle. The way Bea saw it, if she had Michelle around, maybe these sorts of things wouldn't be so bad after all.
***
Casey was seated at the table in the break room when Liam sat down across from her. Casey put her book down, but continued shoveling chips from the bag in front of her into her mouth. Liam reached inside his coat and pulled something out, his voice low and calm.
"I have someone else to go see, but before I do that, I'm gonna slide you a piece of paper," he said, "and it's going to have all the information you need for your contact on it."
"Are you a spy?" Casey asked, "cause this is some secret agent kinda behavior right here."
"I just don't wanna be the guy who gets known for being able to find others for people," Liam remarked, smirking at her comment; he slid the paper across to her and she took it as he added, "just...please don't expect an amazing outcome, that's all I ask. More often than not these kinds of interactions wind up backfiring. If you haven't seen a person in twenty years, and you were rather ancillary to their life, chances are they've moved on, forgotten you and have settled into a comfortable routine now. So don't go looking for miracles."
Casey scoffed as she grabbed the paper with her free hand, wiping her chip greased hand on her shirt.
"As if miracles happen," she said, "I learned a long time ago that stuff like that was bullshit. You can pray to God every night, 'please make daddy stop hitting mommy', but it never comes true because there's nobody listening."
"You are way too young to be this bitter," Liam said.
"All I'm saying is people who believe in miracles are the same people who believe in fate," Casey said, stuffing the paper in her shirt pocket, "people who don't understand that sometimes cool things just happen or people who don't wanna take direct responsibility for their actions. Everything has to be offloaded to some magical guide in the sky. Who else you need to see, by the way?"
Liam didn't answer. He didn't need to explain his activities to her, but moreso he didn't want someone else going to get information on him. But he had to talk to someone. Liam stood up, straightened his tie and nodded at her.
"...I hope one day, maybe, you're able to view things in a less cynical light," Liam said, "sure, there's no proof of anything, nothing definitive anyway, and sure sometimes people go through a lot that justify their views on stuff like God, but at the end of the day, despite being proofless...is that a word? Well, either way, despite it, there's also no harm in simply believing in something good can happen too, or believing there's something watching over us that only wants the best."
"Funny," Casey said, putting her boots up on the table, "you never struck me as the religious type."
"I didn't say I am," Liam replied, shrugging as he grabbed his cane, "but at some point in life, I suppose, you get exhausted being dour all the time, and instead look for something good to throw the weight of your belief behind. I used to be like you, Casey, always certain the worst was all there was, and only bad things would keep coming. But look around at where you are now...you still believe that? Cause from where I'm standing, you've got things pretty good at the moment."
Casey chewed her lip and thought as Liam said his goodbye and exited the room, heading to another section of production. He had a point, and yet...
...and yet all she could do was feel anxious, waiting for the inevitable shoe to drop.
***
"This place is enormous," Michelle said with some awe as she looked around while they walked through the warehouse. Bea could hear the two women talking ahead of her, but she didn't really pay much mind to what was being said. Instead, all her focus, her attention, was turned towards the fact that there were dozens of balloons in here, all based on famous pre-existing fictional characters, beloved then and now, and all she could wonder is if this kind of treatment lessened their intrinsic artistic value. Eventually she saw Michelle had stopped near a door and so she stopped as well as Michelle said, "she needed to pee."
"You don't think I'm...uncompromisable do you?" Bea asked, "Liam said I constantly flip flop on wanting success and being scared of it, of wanting to share Bea with the world and wanting to keep her to myself, and that, eventually, I'd have to choose a side."
"I don't think uncompromisable is the right word," Michelle said, "I think you're steadfast. You hold true to what you believe in, even if it wavers from time to time, and that level of dedication to your beliefs is extremely admirable, believe me. But it has to get old, right? Constantly going back and forth like that?"
Bea sighed and leaned against the wall beside her, crossing her arms.
"It does," she said, "I can't deny that. I guess I just wish I had some level of proof that the people who love Bea, as a character, love her in the same way that I do. That she genuinely means something to their lives. That she isn't just another thing they can slap into their interests next to more famous characters as a part of their interests. I want her to be acknowledged as something greatly important, emotionally, not just..."
Bea sighed and rubbed her face.
"...not just a balloon."
"You should see their faces then," the woman said, coming out from the bathroom, taking them both by surprise; she continued, "the faces of the kids who come to see the parade. To a child, a fictional character IS real. They see them on the TV, they plaster stickers on their school binders, they get shirts with them on it, and then they come to see the balloon and their faces light up in the way that only a childs face can. This is something they identify with, not because it's 'part of their interest' or whatever but because, to them, it's something they see every day and that level of certainty, closeness, it means a lot. To some kids, ya know, it's a small bit of comfort having that routine while to others it's knowing they aren't the only ones out there who are like this character, and if people love this character, people might love them too if they're that similar."
Bea looked at the woman and nodded slowly, taking it all in.
"I know it's hard," the woman said, "cause, ya know, we are just making balloons, but...it does mean something. I assure you of that. They come here, maybe after a bad day at school or a bad week at home, and they see the balloon in the parade, and for one brief fucking moment in their tiny closed off lives...they don't feel so bad. So sure, to us, they're balloons. But to kids, maybe they represent hope."
With that, she turned and continued leading to them towards the space the Beatrice balloon was being made. The whole time, Bea thought over her words. She was right. Why had she spent so much time worrying about this when, in reality, she'd always known that, to a child, a character is life saving? Hell, that was what got her and Michelle in touch in the first place, was because Michelle had Beatrice when she'd been a sick little girl in the hospital, and it had truly saved her. Maybe it was time to let these doubts go.
Maybe it was time to give Beatrice to the world.
***
"This place is so empty," Liam said as he approached Eliza's workshop desk, causing her to spin in her chair and look at him, her jewelers loupe still on her face. She smiled as he dragged a nearby folding chair over and seated himself in it beside her, asking, "you really need all this space?"
"I atually do," Eliza replied, "yes. When production really gets going, I have to hang hundreds of puppets and props and stuff from the rafters, so the space is necessary. Why did you come here? Did you need something?"
"I needed to talk to someone," Liam said, "um...someone who isn't Bea. Someone else I've known a long time."
Eliza put her tools down, pulled the loupe off her face and turned fully to face him now, a somber look coming over her.
"...what's going on?" she asked.
"Eliza, I need to tell you something, and I need you to not tell anyone," Liam said, "but I gotta talk to someone because if I don't, I might go nuts, and I can't afford to be going nuts right now. So can you keep a secret for me?"
Eliza nodded, anxiety rising up within her.
"Okay," Liam said, exhaling and continuing, "...a while back I started going to the doctor. I was feeling...off. Like every other day something was wrong. I figured, you know, I'm older now, I should get these things looked at, lord knows I've got the insurance for it thanks to the show. So I started going. They do some tests. They find some things. They do more tests. Eventually I'm left with the truth that...that I don't have much longer to live. At this point, I've got a few months maybe, if that. I'm doing my best to hide it from everyone, but it's getting very hard. I'm having trouble being mobile, I'm having trouble focusing, and when I'm done with stuff for the day and I go home, I just pass out immediately. I'm telling you this cause, well, I...I'm scared, Eliza. I didn't want to admit it, and I wanna put up a brave face when the time comes to tell everyone, but I'm scared."
Eliza felt her eyes water. No. Not Liam. Not Liam please.
"I don't know," Liam added, sniffling, wiping his eyes on her sweater sleeve, "...I don't think I'm scared of dying. Obviously I'm not, I tried to kill myself after all, but I'm more scared of what me dying will do to others. To Beatrice. I need you to watch out for her for me, please. I've been by her side from almost the start, we built this thing up together, we are creative partners through and through. But at this point, she's gonna be without me, and she can't be alone. She has Michelle, and they are close, but you've known her longer. It has to be you, Eliza."
Eliza finally cracked and started crying. Liam knew this would happen, he knew she didn't handle loss well. He leaned forward and put a hand on her knee, patting it gently for reassurance. She wept soundly for a few minutes, then tried to catch her breath. After a bit, she looked back up at him and adjusted her glasses.
"Eliza," Liam said, smiling softly, "...it has to be you, you understand why right?"
"I do," she whimpered, "I do, yes."
"Okay then. I'm sorry, I know this is a lot to put on you, but-"
"I wanna help, cause I kinda caused my moms death, and I wanna make up for that," Eliza said quietly, making Liam's heart ache as she added, wiping her eyes on the balls of her palms, "I just wish I didn't have to keep losing everyone who meant anything to me."
"I know, kiddo," Liam said, "me too."
***
Casey was sitting in the car with Justine, parked across the road from a house as they watched intently. They had been doing work on another book, but during their lunch break Casey asked if they could go for a little drive. Didn't say why, and Justine didn't press her, but she was certainly curious. Sitting here now, eating her thai takeout as Casey sat behind the steering wheel, Justine couldn't help but feel as though they were cops on a stakeout. She stabbed some baby corn with her fork and ate it, speaking as she chewed.
"Are you following an ex around, is that what this is?" Justine asked, and Casey shook her head; Justine nodded and said, "okay, so long as you're not stalking someone. Well, you mind telling me what's going on then?"
"When I was a kid," Casey said, "I had his babysitter. She used to protect me from my mother, when she could anyway. Once she found out what my mother was doing, selling me to men to be used, she tried as hard as she could to get me out of there. Sometimes she'd snatch me away for a few days, just to make sure I was safe even for a little bit. I've been thinking about her a lot lately."
"And that's who we're watching now?" Justine asked, and Casey nodded; Justine unscrewed the lid to her water bottle, took a long swig and then said, "well, trauma does funny things to our brains. Like, after my plane went down, for instance, I found myself obsessed with plane crash movies. I would watch them on a loop. It was almost as though I were trying to recreate the moment, hope it came out differently. It never does, of course, but...but the hope was enough to carry me through."
Casey looked towards Justine who ate some beef strips and continued talking.
"It's weird, I know, but-"
"No...it isn't," Casey said, "cause I do the same thing with movies about babysitters. Or, really, any kind of movie where an adult cares for a child. It...it's comforting."
Justine smiled. She knew she had liked Casey for a reason, she knew they could relate to one another, connect on a level she wouldn't be able to otherwise with someone else. They'd both experienced such trauma, and yet they both came away relatively okay in spite of it. Sure they were a little dinged up emotionally, or in Justine's case physically even, but they had one another and they had a support system around them. That was more than most people in their situations got. Justine constantly counted her blessings in that regard.
"So you intend to speak with her?" Justine asked.
"I'd like to," Casey said, her eyes widening as the front door opened and a woman walking two young children to the car exited; she added, "...but what has conversing with adults ever gotten me?"
***
"It's gargantuan," Michelle said.
She, Bea and the woman were standing there looking up at the enormous Beatrice balloon. The woman smiled, patted Bea on the back and walked away, leaving them to have their privacy for a bit. Michelle shook her head, hands still stuffed in her coat pockets. She couldn't believe the size of this thing, she was in awe. She glanced over at Bea, who was standing there slightly slackjawed herself, and she smiled.
"What do you think?" Michelle asked.
"...I think...I think I'm okay with this," Bea said, "I took a dog who gave me her love and I turned around and gave that love to the world. If this is how the world wants to treasure her, then who am I to stop them, to tell them that the way they love is wrong? It's...it's so beautiful, so large. And what that woman said was true, honestly. Kids look up to characters as a source of safety, inspiration, they're as real to children as sports stars and celebrities are to adults. Bea deserved that. Liam was right. It's time for me to let go."
Michelle walked over to Bea and put an arm around her shoulders, Bea laying her head against Michelle's, and the two of them stood there like that for what felt like an eternity. Bea had no idea that Liam was on his way out...but if she had...
...she'd probably try to get him a balloon too.