(1942-02-16) Patronage
Patronage
Summary: It ain't ol' Uncle Wilber Walker making deliveries to the Wright home, these days. Kathleen meets his replacement.
Date: 1942-02-16
Related: None.
Players:
kathleen..clyde..

Main and Pine, Higsi
Thurs, Feb 16, 1942


The further one goes north up Main Street, the less residential it becomes and more commercial. Each side of the street is lined with a long row of various types of businesses, a bakery, small bookstore, hardware store and a few offices as well. A few cars or trucks are parked diagnally in front of various places. It is quite common to see townsfolk walking around from place to place or a few of them standing outside a business chatting.

Weather:
It is winter. The weather is cool and fair.


Thursday is gradually drawing to a close, the evening air becoming even more crisp as the sun — having reigned surpreme in the sky today, the day having been a lovely one — dips down behind the horizon. The sky is now that of a dark pinkish ochre, slashed through with the deep purple of imminent twilight; winter puts the sun to bed early and the days are yet shorter. The tail end of Kathleen's afternoon was spent pleasantly enough, walking Maddie to the home of one of her school contemporaries with whom the girl clicked. Clicked /well/. The arcana of preteen girls' sleepovers is completely foreign territory and upon making sure her sister was settled in with strict instructions to not go outside after day, Kitty was off.

She had her own plans tonight. Usually it happens once a month roundabouts in the middle of said month; that certain amount of hard-earned coin will be squirelled away for herself, to get — much as her father had done — a little something 'extra'. What could be considered a 'standing order' has been carefully placed with the Walkers for their shine. She waits in the front porch of her home, watching the sidewalk for any familiar 'figure' to come making their way along with that which she seeks. She is unsure as to which of the Walker cousins will deliver tonight, but she is definitely ready to meet them!

Clyde's had a rough day, so to clear his head he's out doing deliveries. So here comes that familiar figure walking down the road, looking haggard and tired. Clyde has been doing most of the deliveries this month, partially cause they're low on people, and he needs to clear his head so he doesn't keep throating Jesse. His head swivels as he walks, aware of his surroundings. He's making his way towards Kathleen's house with her order.

Ah hah.. there he is. Inwardly Kitty wonders to herself if this could be one of the 'older' brood; well, whomever is /left/ after the explosion. It is more than likely that the Walker who looked after Basil is long dead. THis is entirely Kitty's guess; she is no authority on what actually happened up there on Iron Mountain. Or what continues to go on. All she knows is that these boys make some fine brew and a hit of it now and then sure takes away her grief at least for an evening. Never… /never/.. does she dare bring even a drop of the stuff out in Madeline's presence. But Maddie is off being a girl, and Kitty is by her lonesome.

Clad in fitted suspenders dusted over with saw dust, the straps pulled up over a black t-shirt, Kitty strides out onto the front steps to meet Clyde as he ambles along. Most of the busy-bodies on the street are too occupied to look outside at Basil's girl receiving something that ain't bottled milk. She waits with her hands jammed into her pockets, a leonine woman with sharp eyes and a tired expression. "Good eve'nin," She offers to Clyde, squinting to see if she can recognize him. The guy looks worn right the hell out.

Yeah, Clyde definitely is new blood. Although he's definitely the new clan leader now. He reaches into his jacket to get the bottle. "Evenin'." He steps up, the bottle offered. "Just the one, right?"

The woman has no way, of course, of knowing that Clyde has had to keep the blind pup in check. But keen amber eyes recognize something in Walker's expression, aside from the fact that he's easy on the eyes in a man-of-the-hills-unkempt-don't-fk-with-me sorta way. Exasperation? Frustration? The usual Clyde'ness? Kitty watches him walk up and produce the bottle, nodding her head once. "A'yup, the one." She concedes, glancing once to the bottle and back to Clyde's face. "Yer lookin' like y'could use a nip of this yerself. Shit sandwich of a day?" The woman drawls, a patron buying wares. Her voice isn't unpleasant but the native accent is deep and thick.

Should Clyde pass the bottle to her, Kitty will hand him over the requested sum along with a tip. "Cain't place yeh as the one who looked after m'Daddy, years back. Whats yer name, anyway?" She asks casually, the bottle of shine winking in the porch light between the two.

Clyde huffs, but there's a small smirk, "Yeah. Probably." The man gives a soft laugh, "Yeah. You could say that." He does pass it, and the payment is shoved into a pocket, "Clyde. Clyde Walker. Uncle Wilber took care of yer dad."

"Ah hah, yes!" Kitty suddenly exclaims, tossing her head back into a brief, bawdy laugh. The jaunty way she stands, the slang, the hooch that she holds like a baby… she's a walking, talking middle finger to the gentle birds of the South. "I 'member Wilber…" She leans in, looking at Clyde with her lynx's stare. "Took my first accidental nip of your brew when I was nine. Thought it was Daddy's water… found out quick that I was too young." A cough, and she lowers the bottle a bit so as to not attract much attention to it. "Real shame, I liked Wilber… good to meet you Clyde Walker. I'll be seeing y' again next month m'sure."

She steps back, her mouth forming a frustrated moue. "Thinkin' I lost some work today from running m'mouth. Figures I'd best cut m'losses and treat m'self to the good stuff. Y'got a long walk to get back to where yer supposed t'be?"

Not many remember any Walker with that much joy. Clyde gives a small smirk, the laugher is nice. "Nine? Ouch." His smile falters and he nods, "Sure was." He takes a deep breath, looking around, "Next month. You need more sooner, just get word ta me or mine. We're around." He shrugs, crazy locks swaying, "I got another drop off. It's not farther than any other place." That's not true, he'll be walking for a while.

Not to say that interactions with 'Wilber' were warm and cozy. Kitty simply remembers a gruff man who gave her the time of day but didn't exactly treat her warmly. She was just the child of a customer, but a reasonable one. "Ouch s'right." Kitty concedes, resting the bottle under an arm as she tips an imaginary hat. "Will send the word out if I'm in need of more. This'll last awhile I reckon." She pauses, watching Clyde's tresses moving as if of a mind of their own. "Y'get on with your route.. looks like y'need some air. An' maybe time away from whatevers buggin' ya." The woman observes, and says nothing more. It's not her place to surmise anything. "G'night to ya, Clyde. Thanks again."

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