(1942-08-03) My Own Makin'
My Own Makin'
Summary: Jesse and Kathleen have another chat, the latter tries to pep-talk the former.
Date: 1942-08-03
Related: None.
Players:
kathleen..jesse..

Town Square, Higsi
Thu Aug 03, 1942


A lot of work has been put into the town square, which is actually more of a circle really. A street makes a one way circle around a large round grassy area with a staute of a local civil war hero overlooking a duckpond. Lining the other side of the street are various businesses as well as the large court house and the local church.

Weather:
It is summer. The weather is warm and fair.


Today is a standard issue, bonefide beauty of a day. The morning hours taper off into the beginnings of the afternoon, the sun high and happy to be reigning supreme again in the wake of the rains that plagued the town not too long ago. People are busy; understatement? Perhaps. It's nearing the end of the week, it's nice out… and most are busting their asses to get their duties done to permit some relaxation over the weekend. Kathleen Wright happens to be one of these folks.

Having nosed her pickup truck into a parking space a couple of streets over, the carpenter has taken a break from working over at old Ernie Roberts' house to get some food on her stomach. Normally one to pack a lunch, Kitty has decided to spoil herself some… she has her work cut out for her, with the amount of water damage dealt to the old boy's rancher… she needs fortification.

Stepping languidly from the swinging doors of Sister's Diner, Kitty looks pert and professional in a fitted set of dark-wash coveralls and an open-necked blouse, hair bushed back and cinched with bobby pins. Despite her early rise, she looks healthy and fresh-faced… and she is currently cramming a formidable roast beef sandwich into her gob! Okay… maybe not quite dainty. With her jaunty long-legged gait, Kitty is making her way through the square toward a bench, close to the grassy area and the statue, so she may sit and eat like an animal in peace. Hell, she even looks cheerful.

<FS3> Jesse rolls Musician: Good Success.

All the busking he's been doing (and maybe the lessons that he's started) have actually been helping…at least in terms of Jesse's fiddling. That or maybe today is just a good 'music' day; it's no longer raining and it's once again a warm, late-summer day. The youngest Walker is back in Town Square, playing a few cheerful songs for the busy passersby. Sure, it doesn't seem to make him much money, but anything helps, right? And before too long, it'll be too cold to play and maybe they'll get to missing it and realize how nice it is to have someone playing live music.

Maybe. It's a bit of a pipe dream, but Jesse's willing to try the experiment.

His hair has been freshly cut so that it's no longer so shaggy and he's in his usual worn jeans and t-shirt.

The woman is still wolfing down her food, and once the first few bits hit her complaining gut Kathleen's fervor slows some, and she becomes 'aware' of what's going on. Oh hey.. music! Of course, Jesse Walker is still busking here. A good thing; she hoped the last time she saw him that the 'slow' day wouldn't deter him. Amber eyes, momentarily closed as she chews the sandwich with savage relish, open and squint into the sunlight and the going-ons ahead as she lends an ear. He sounds pretty damned good, actually… has he been practicing? Is the weather a help? The songs are cheerful and for that, Kitty is glad too. Maddie meant well in recommending Bible-thumpin' tunes to the Walker, but….

.. fiddles are made for fun jigs, at least in her opinion.

In a smooth motion Kitty thrusts herself forth from the bench, standing and brushing crumbs off her thighs. A few swift gulps empty the paper dixie cup that she lugged along with her and the garbage is done away with in a trash can. Her dining complete, she begins to amble her way toward where Jesse works his magic.

The sound of coins being tossed into the fiddle case. "Lookin' good Walker. Soundin' even better." Kitty drawls pleasantly.

<FS3> Jesse rolls Enhanced Senses: Great Success.

Jesse definitely hears the coins being tossed into his case and he grins. The song he was playing comes to a cadence and he ends, pausing to give his fingers a stretch and to answer Ms. Wright, "Thank ya kindly. Figured folks wouldn't want to hear hymns on a day like today." Even he can feel everyone's energy up. "I appreciate the coin, but you shouldn't feel obligated." He might expect more townsfolk to contribute who aren't necessarily Walker friends. They get a pass.

"Ya thought right. Seein' a few folk walkin' past with a spring to their step. Ain't an easy thing t'do at the end of the week when folks are wrung dry." Kathleen muses, trying to bolster Jesse a bit more with the very true fact. His music is catching and regardless of him being hillfolk, even some who carry a grudge can't help but note that he has skill. Kitty is quiet as Jesse concludes this tune, and she tosses in another couple of pennies just to punctuate the fact.

"I ain't no artist, can't carry a tune to save my life… but I sure like music. Can't just walk away without supporting it some, regardless of how I know ya." Yup, she kinda 'gets' why he doesn't expect her to pay. Tough. "Take my money." She says flatly, before hooking a finger into the pocket of her overalls.

"Ya keepin' okay? Haircut sure suits ya.. reckon it's helpin' to win over the old folks some." Kitty observes… glancing sideward to an old woman taking on a bit of knitting on a bench nearby.

"I think it's the sun. We've had so much rain and floodin' that the sun bein' out just can't help but make folks happier." Jesse cants his head at the sound of more coins being tossed in and he's about to protest but then she shuts him up with her words. Fine. It's all going into the family 'pot' anyhow.

At the mention of the haircut, he lifts a hand to scrub the back of his neck. "Thanks. Just got tired of it gettin' in my face." Not that it bothered his sight, but it tickled and just felt like too much. "I can't carry off that wild look like Clyde and Clifton, I guess."

"Ya ain't meant to. Some folks can, some can't… it's not yer bag." Kathleen remarks on the haircut and how the shaggy look doesn't quite work for Jesse. In her opinion, it doesn't… and in her eternal frankness Kathleen rubs her chin. "Eyes like yers, that color, ain't meant to be covered with hair. I think whoever lobbed it off for ya knew what they were doin'. Keep that length." She offers, for what it's worth.. if it helps. Kathleen does not lie and her voice, pleasant albeit husky, holds no scrap of lies or pity.

The sound of footsteps approaching.. slow, measured. Kitty pauses to glance sideward at that little old lady from before, nestled on the bench. With a tiny birdlike hand, she drops a couple of pennies into the case and ambles off along her way. Kitty smirks then, once she's out of earshot. "See? See what I'm tryin' to tell ya? Ya cleaned up nice and the old girls are lappin' it up. That there was an old gal who wouldn't even be caught fartin' without saying a prayer after. Ya done good."

The carpenter's lithe hand pushes a hank of her own hair back, behind an ear. "Hot out.. I'm needin' a cold soda or somethin'… d'ya want anything? I'm ducking back into Sister's for a bit." Why is she being so gregarious? She doesn't even sound as if she is 'trying' hard.

Jesse just shrugs again, "Don't matter none to me what I look like…" it's a comfort thing. As the old woman drops a couple of coins into the case he turns towards her and offers a, "Thank you, ma'am," before turning back to Kitty. Huh. "You're sayin' that she put coins in because Ethel gave me a haircut?" No one fancy…just his cousin. They can't afford to go to the barber shop.

At the mention of the soda, he wipes a hand across his mouth…something cold -would- be nice, but…"Thanks, but I'm bettin' these coins wouldn't add up to gettin' a glass of water there much less anythin' else. I'll be fine." Even though he's almost always hungry. It's the age.

Gaaaahh Jesse. Kitty squints at him, "It's important to put a good appearance forward… even if ya can't see it Jesse Walker it's still important. Even knowin' yer lookin' good is good for yer soul and draws people in. Goes beyond reputation." Hmph. Kitty smirks then, not wanting to stand here preaching at the boy again. She can't stand people preaching at her. "She put coins in yer case because she liked yer music, and she liked the look of ya. THe haircut makes ya look a bit more respectable… ya tell yer Ethel that she done good, too." She glances toward the diner, her stomach growling again.

How is she still hungry?

"I'm coverin' the soda, ya silly arse. I got some change still and I'm thirsty as hell. Hold up, start another ditty and I'll be back." Kitty grunts, and turns on a heel to go get the drinks. She won't take long; strong senses shall hear the staccato of her footsteps, the departure of her clean scent.

"Why? I'm a Walker," Jesse points out. But he -will- tell Ethel that her haircut was given a compliment and that maybe it got him some coins. It also doesn't hurt that a woman who isn't a relative says that he looks nice. It's the little things.

He does start to protest again at the offer to buy him a soda but it's not going to get very far. For starters, sodas are quite the luxury and he hasn't had one in…a good, long while. She also tells him to start up another song, which is what he's here for.

Oh shit, she's coming back. Kathleen's reappearance in diner is indeed with intention to get more food and drink… to go! Damnit Jesse, Kitty will attack you with friendship until she gets some sort of a smile out of you. Even a smirk. As she waits for her order — waitresses glare at her, wondering how such a hungry woman can stay so thin — she glances out one of the windows toward where young Walker is settled. She caught the 'I'm a Walker' bit but was already walking away before she could retort.

Before long the order is up, Kitty gathers it, and she makes her way through the doors to return to Jesse. The fiddle music is intoxicating; Kitty so loves a good jig even if her dancing is shit too. But an utterly amazing aroma will slither it's way toward Jesse…. something fried. Deep fried. Kitty is back with a double order of fries and a double cheeseburger. Keeping one baggie of fries for herself, Kitty sets the to-go bag — bearing the remainder of the order (fries, the beastly burger) and a paper cup of cola in front of the fiddlin' teenager.

"I don't care if yer a Walker or any other cat's ass family in this town. Yer here tryin' to do well by yer family, I consider ya a friend because we kinda DO go back a little, ya know… and eat the fuckin' food, Jesse." Kitty offers in her sweet way, eyes narrowed. "Yer workin' hard. Ya gotta have a bit more faith in yerself."

Jesse finishes off the song he was playing and blinks at Kathleen. "You know, if I used that language, my Ma would've washed my mouth out with soap…" and probably gave him a good whupping. But the smells are just too delicious and he's not going to hesitate for very long. A burger! And fries! And soda…it's the food of the gods!

The violin is carefully set down before he pretty much voraciously downs the food that was brought to him. The soda is saved until last so he can savor it some. "Thanks…that's…the best burger I think I've had." At least in a long while.

"I have a preference for brands of soap. Ivory leaves less aftertaste… pure and all that crap." Kitty jests, tossing a couple of fries into her gob and chewing slowly. "Shows what good it did." She concurs, golden eyes watching as young Walker picks up the fare and goes about… oh wow. Kitty has seen Walkers eat but this is the most impressive yet. It's enough to draw forth a chuckle or two, only to have it veer off into a peal of laughter. "Holy.. okay, buddy, slow down. Taste it!" She exclaims, but can't poke too much fun… she eats in a similar fashion. Her gaze softens then, but not by much, as she considers.

"Yer welcome.. I ain't doin' this to ya out of pity. Yer probably thinkin' that… or somethin' else along the lines of my doin' this because I'm friends with yer cousin." Kitty guesses, jamming down the packet of fries quickly and finally… finally feeling full. She stands close enough so that her voice carries only to Jesse, taking advantage of the 'lull' in the afternoon. People have the same idea, going for lunch.

"This somethin' ya do often? Comparin' yourself to kin… Clyde and Clif?" She asks outright. No padding here.

Jesse does slow down…just a little, but it's enough to taste the last few bites of the cheeseburger and fries. He is definitely sipping at and savoring the soda though. He's gotten food at the diner but usually he gets coffee or water to drink. "Sorry. Thanks. It's real good…" he's a teenage werewolf who has to divvy up hard-gotten food. He's pretty much always ravenous.

He slowly works on what's left of the fries as she explains herself. He did pretty much figure she did it out of pity or to put herself in better graces with Clifton. "Why did you then?" he asks before she asks the difficult question.

That actually gets a frown which he sort of covers with another drink of the cola. He's not entirely sure how to answer that one. "They seem to know what they want and get it." It's not really an answer, though.

"I did because I wanted to. Need anymore than that?" Kathleen shrugs once, balling up the garbage and tossing it into the grease-spotted paper bag. "I could've just left the bench I was sitting on and went my own way, which I gotta go before long… I'm on a break afterall." Cough. "But I just wanted t'help out. Ain't doin' it for anyone but myself, not to impress anyone or make me think I'm some merciful sort. I got the urge to do somethin' good because good's been done for me and I did it." Nothing more, nothing less.

Kitty quiets, now, to field Jesse's response. "Sure they do.. ain't they older than ya, some? One of 'em seems to have all sorts of stuff on their shoulders on account of family, from what I've heard," Clifton hasn't spoken much of Clyde. "The other came from a crazy place like New York. I reckon ya gotta know how t'go for what ya want to make it there. But really it's because they're them with their own shit, and yer… yerself."

THe sound of a slow sip from a straw. "I got a little sister who is as pretty as dawn, ya think I don't notice? Wonder how much easier life would be if I went through life with that luxury? I'd drive myself mad. Can't be measurin' yer life on what yer cousins are doin'. From what I gather yer here, tryin' to make something work for yerself and that's why I wanted to do ya a service." She picks up the paper bag. "Clif and Clyde are gonna do their thing, ya can't compare yerself to them."

She must be plenty pretty to get Clifton's attention though, "If I remember, you ain't a Plain Jane, so I dunno what you're talkin' about." He isn't sure what to say in regards to her explanation as to why she bought him lunch, but he'll try and be gracious and just accept it. "Thank you then." It's hard when he feels like most of the people are nice to him because they have pity on him for one reason or another.

The other subject is more difficult. "You don't think your sister is comparin' herself to you?" Maybe if he puts it that way, she'll see where he's coming from. "Sure, you're two different people, but your her older sister. Most of my family's gone and Clyde and Clifton are all I got left who's older than me. They want me to be a certain way and Lord knows I'm tryin'," even though it doesn't sit as well with him. "Yet they're still able to do what they want and I ain't. Even Clyde won't let me be playin' the fiddle for this knittin' circle unless he's there." How is he supposed to figure things out for himself when his cousins hover and chastise?

"I…" Ain't a 'Plain Jane'…? Kathleen clears her throat. "I've aged, Jesse.. I ain't much to sniff at compared to some of the birds in this town because people won't take me seriously when I'm walkin' up to their doorstep with my tools. I'm okay with that." She admits… mostly. Sometimes it's hard, but very rarely. "If Maddie is comparin' herself to me on account of what I do for people, because I give a damn, that's even better. Ain't matter much what I look like so long as the kid knows that hard work is important." That's as far as she goes with that tangent. Jesse thanks her for the fare and she nods, even if he doesn't see it. "All good. Keep ya goin' awhile." She offers gruffly.

"But I see where yer goin'… to my recollection ya ain't got yer immediate family.. ya need that, and ya try to find it in yer kin. Stress makes people expect a lot but ya still gotta work toward yerself. Yer gonna play at a knitting circle…?" Blink… Kitty squints. "Where at? Been hearin' about something of the like but where ya thinkin' of playing?" She pauses in her rant, seeking answers.

"Vet Styne's hostin' something for the troops and asked me to play. Clyde said he'd be there and be doin' some work. Because…I dunno. He don't trust me or he don't trust her…" or he doesn't think Jesse can handle things if anything were to go wrong. "You wanna know why I compare myself to them? Because I ain't allowed to be me." Not really. At least, not how he sees it.

When she comments about him needing his immediate family, he shrugs, "Well, most of 'em are dead and my sister's…God knows where." But then he goes back to the subject of Kitty's sister, "Your sister's learnin' that, I think. She's got a good heart. I dunno about hard work…but she's nice."

Clearly Kathleen doesn't know what the Walkers are, because what she has to say next comes flying out of her lips without a second thought. "Ain't allowed? Nobody can expect that of another. Yer gonna take up that fiddle, march yerself up to that good lady's house and you're gonna play for however long it takes. Yer Clyde wants to work or do whatever he thinks he gotta do, thinkin' he gotta protect ya? Then he's gonna do it.. ya gotta do what ya gotta do." She barks out, calms herself.. uses a softer (ish) voice. She's not trying to be mean, she's just impassioned. She just can't understand.

"I know Miss Styne and she wants yer talent. Ya can trust her. She's a right-bred lady and if yer bein' called to her home to play for a knttin' circle, something she cares about very much, that's a fuckin' honor. Ya take that and run with it, Jesse, and let Clyde do what he gotta do." No further word on Maddie, Kitty's eyes are fierce.

"What do ya need to feel strong about this? Clothes? D'ya need fancy clothes for this do?" She asks suddenly.

"I -know- this…" Jesse starts and then gives a sigh. "I know that I just gotta do what I need to do and let Clyde do what he wants. That ain't the point. The point is, he doesn't think I can do it alone. That -he- still has to be there. That I ain't…somethin-enough to handle it without him hangin' around and hoverin'." He just wants something that's his own! Clyde took his girl…he only has a job because Clyde and Clifton let him help out and he's given up his room for the new cousin. He just wants something that he can do that no one can take away.

"Clothes? What? No, I don't need fancy clothes. Wouldn't know what to do with 'em…and I'd probably mess 'em up anyhow."

Sadly, Kitty knows naught of the 'oddness' surrounding Leona's homestead… perhaps the true reason behind Clyde's insistance on being there. All she can surmise is that the man is overprotective, for whatever reason, and she has very little grounding on arguing that point. She watches Jesse for a time, and nods once.. as if to herself. "Get in there, and blow 'em all away with yer music. And show even Clyde what yer capable of. I reckon it's just the older set wantin' to protect the younger, even if the younger ain't wantin' it." She concedes, hooking a thumb into her pocket. "I gotta get back t'work. I was gonna offer ya some of my Da's clothes, somethin' ta fancy ya up t'give the knittin' crowd something to look at." She says gently, not pushing it. "Get yer Ethel t'help put ya together. Kinda like what I did for Clif."

Basil's gone, he isn't needing that clothing much. A few nips and tucks with a knowing hand, using a needle and thread, would help the bigger man's clothing fit Jesse some.

"Think about it.. ya know where I'm livin'. Good luck with the buskin', Jesse." Kathleen says, before she can be heard turning on a heel. But there's a pause. She looks as if she wants to say something more (lost on Jesse anyway) but thinks against it.

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