Give Me A Sign
who: lenore and laura
where: st peter's cathedral
when: early afternoon
That morning, Lenore had received a call from the family - she never used the word Syndicate, it seemed metallic somehow - in the form of Eugene Konovich calling her from prison, that things were not good, and her services may be required more than usual. Heads were going to roll. They were scared that Eugene was going to find himself a little more Konovich company in jail than he'd like. And of course they were blaming the Irish, because those foolish leprechauns couldn't play it close to their chests, did not have the brutal dignity of the Russians, and their antics seemed to have been noticed in the Echo somewhat more than anyone else's. Some wanted to cut the O'Malley's out of Konovich dealings all together. Lenore didn't particularly care and said as much, and was laughed at and told that was good - it was not her place to care, it was her place to do as she was told.
Which sounded about right.
Eugene had regaled her all this from the phone in the prison lobby and then stated in his heavy Russian drawl, "But, my love, when Babushka tells fortunes she will simply say, it will snow or it will not. For all this talk does us no good." and then he had hung up. She pressed her forehead against the telephone receiver and sighed. Very rarely did she miss him, but this was one of those mornings. Perhaps her night with Angelo had reminded her of him - even though the two men were so incredibly different, there was a similarity in their understanding of things. To her eyes anyway.
She went to church. Standard reaction when she was uncertain about something. She was hardly ever uncertain, she usually just went along with the signs - but things had been strange of late. That meeting with the woman in the museum, and the photographs of the man she had smothered so long ago. What did it mean? And if the family were having problems with the police, well... Lenore was almost impossible to link to them but only almost. So, she went to speak to God, and had been there now for almost half an hour kneeling before the Crucifix waiting for something to strike and inspire her with the next course of action.
Laura's first errand that
Laura's first errand that morning had been to deliver Mutt's paper and coffee from the diner on the corner. After getting a look at the front page, she'd been nervous about handing it to him. And even more nervous about running to Joey's with it after.
The rest of the morning had been spent running from one place to another, which ended when she started running into murder scenes. Some of them with cops already there, a couple of them fresh. She'd gone back to Joey's but there was no one there, so Laura had taken off. She'd hidden herself in a couple of different places, but not for long. If they'd gotten Joey, they'd get anyone with his mark on them, probably. That thought had her tugging at the collar of her pea coat, and wondering if she should change clothes and put her hair down over it. It hadn't take long for her to find a way to do exactly that, though she was afraid to go back to her little room.
God didn't want much to do with Laura and she knew that, but the Irish, at least, wouldn't kill somebody in a church. She wasn't sure about the Russians. At first, she wondered if the place would be locked. The door opened, and she stuck her head in, curiously. There was a sort of lobby, so she slipped inside. It was quiet. The girl practically tiptoed past the holy water and beyond to hang around the back of the place, looking like she thought she might be struck down by lightening or something any minute.
Laura just stood there gawking at the stained glass and candles and everything, so at first she didn't notice the woman at the altar. But then as she was staring at Jesus on his cross, a tiny bit of movement caught her eye and she let out a surprised grunt.
Lenore heard the movement
Lenore heard the movement behind her and cast a glance over her shoulder, her hands still clasped with the rosary twirling through her fingers. Whoever it was was very young and very nervous looking - and Lenore thought it was a girl but with the hat and coat you couldn't be sure. Either way, they looked about 12, and Lenore couldn't abide the silly shyness of children. Not when it had them hiding behind pews, anyway.
"Don't lurk, dear," Lenore called to the child in a rather sharp but not unpleasant tone, thinking the girl's skittishness was due to worry for upsetting her during prayer, "You're not bothering me at all, you know." To prove this point she turned away from the newcomer and pressed her forehead back onto her clenched hands, and slipped back into 'Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee' under her breath, her head still channelling requests for the guidance she craved.
Laura jumped and almost
Laura jumped and almost bolted out the door, thinking the woman meant she wasn't supposed to be there. She didn't think she belonged in the church, really, and didn't know if there were any rules about coming and going, so she hung back for just a moment more when the lady said she wasn't bothered. The soft murmur of prayer resumed and the girl considered the alternatives, glancing back at the door and then forward to the altar.
Slowly, she made her way up near the front, trying not to make any noise at all. She stopped before the pews ended to stare wide eyed at the figure of Christ. It was huge, and honestly scared the crap out of her. He was just looking at her and she didn't want to blink or breathe. There was a soft rustle as her ratty messenger bag slipped from her shoulder and she caught it looking down and quickly back up again as if the carved figure might disapprove.
Lenore finished another set
Lenore finished another set of her rosary beads and then straightened up slightly. The girl was still there, looking unsure of what to do with herself. Lenore sighed, smoothed down her hair and looked at her with a cocked eyebrow. Upon closer inspection it was definitely a girl, and she looked...well...terrified. Lenore didn't like to see kids scared, it didn't sit right with her.
"I won't bite, if you want to kneel," she said, her tone still slightly sharp but less so, "I'm sure He won't either. Are you alright?"
Normally when dressed as a
Normally when dressed as a boy, Laura adopted a very masculine manner, but the place and the circumstance had driven all consciousness of her disguise out of her head and her mannerisms were very feminine. A stray strand of hair had escaped her hat and curled down behind her ear. She was scared to death and had no idea where to go to wait for things to blow over, if they were going to.
The woman said kneel, and Laura did, still looking up at the cross. It wasn't that she thought it would do her any good, but more that it must be the thing people were supposed to do. She didn't know what to say to the question. She certainly wasn't alright. She never really had been, but she was considerably less so today. There was really no way to explain it, though. The things she'd seen that morning weren't exactly icebreaker conversation. She had no one to trust and no where to go.
The girl bowed her head, looking first at the floor, and then sliding her eyes sideways to look at the woman. The motion brought the back of her neck away from the collar of her coat, revealing Joey O'Malley's black stylized cross tattoo. It was a mark normally put on the right hands of his men as a sort of badge.
Her voice was barely above a whisper, "I'm not breaking any rules, am I?"
Lenore squinted at the mark
Lenore squinted at the mark on the girl's neck and leaned over to press a fingertip against it. It was sort of familiar, but only in a vague hazy way that all crosses were familiar to Lenore. The thing that made it odd was that this girl seemed far too young to have a tattoo. She made a "hmph" noise of slight disaproval as she withdrew her touch and studied the girl further. She was a little bit pathetic, and she seemed so frightened.
"Oh, buck up, will you? I told you I'm not going to hurt you. What rules are you talking about?" said Lenore, in her best stern-but-fair schoolteacher voice. Maybe she was just from a very religious family - it'd explain the branding at least. But Lenore felt there was something else there - and she had an urge for the girl to stop bloody cowering. She hated to see people suffering like that, especially so young. Lenore had never suffered - she hadn't allowed it to enter her state of mind.
The girl flinched, then went
The girl flinched, then went still when Lenore put a finger to the tattoo.
Laura's eyes snapped to the front and she took a slow deep breath, jaw working. She was in the church because it seemed like her best chance of survival at the moment, but keeping her life wasn't much use if she lost everything else. She'd always been on her own. This isn't any different except that there are probably people actively looking to kill her for once instead of just waiting for her to be more trouble than she was worth.
They might find her, and they might kill her, but it only mattered to her, so it didn't fucking matter. She'd been scared as hell all day because of the things she'd seen and the knowledge of why it was happening. It was time to take all of that and turn it into something else. Laura turned the fear in on itself as she had been doing as long as she could remember. She turned it and made it be nothing but cold hard anger. It felt like dying a little, but there wasn't anything wrong with that. She grimaced at the lump in her chest that always came with that effort, and then looked back at Lenore with her near black eyes gone hard and dull as buttons. It was a thing that had scared her mother, and just pissed Mutt off, but it kept them from breaking her and it will keep this from breaking her.
She knows she doesn't belong here, but what does it matter if God strikes her down or if the Russians do. "Don't matter what rules, I guess."
Lenore was not easily
Lenore was not easily phased. She pulled herself to her feet, tucking her rosary back into her handbag and smoothing her smart brown skirt over her thighs. Her expression was stern, but not hard, and she gave Laura the sort of look that a parent gives a tantrum-throwing child.
"Dear, don't look at me like that, you'll give me a heart murmur," she spoke with a frank no-nonsense air and placed her hands on her hips, her expression cool but not unamused, "Now, what's your name and what's the matter with you? You're acting very strangely."
She wasn't about to drop the girl just because she started doing angry-eyes. Lenore was well aware of the fact she had been praying for guidance when the guttersnipe arrived - and once upon a time, she herself had been a guttersnipe. In Lenore's world, coincidence were few and far between. Yesterday's meeting with Helena had proven as much.
Laura stood, glancing at
Laura stood, glancing at Jesus again, and then looking up at Lenore. What was wrong with her? That was God's fault. It didn't matter anymore that she didn't belong. Nothing mattered and it was seriously liberating. She'd thought about it and just realized that there wasn't a whole lot that would be different if she wasn't around. There was nobody to really give a damn, and that was oddly comforting. It only mattered to her, and if she was gone, it wouldn't matter to anyone. She was going to die, and that was okay. It didn't matter.
"My name is Laura, and I'm gonna die. Probably today. Nothing I can do about it, but I guess it's alright."
She pulled off the cap and shook her hair loose around her shoulders, wondering what, if anything, she should do next. She could keep hiding, or she could go sit someplace and wait for it. Or she could just.. do things. Anything. She could do anything now that she'd really written herself off.
Lenore quirked the corners
Lenore quirked the corners of her mouth into a tight smile, "There's no second in your entire life where you're immune from Death. The purpose in getting worried and upset about it is what, exactly?" For all the gravity Lenore put into her speech she could've been asking Laura to answer a multiplication sum. It wasn't throwaway, exactly, but you could tell that she didn't think Laura's problems were particularly grand on the scale of things.
"Anyway, shouldn't you be in school?" said Lenore, her usual bluntness in full force, "Why're you scurrying around in the Cathedral looking like Hell itself is on your tail, hmm? I won't put up with nonsense in the Lord's house, there must be something the matter with you other than the fact you've grasped you are not, in fact, immortal?"
The girl actually smiled.
The girl actually smiled. "There's been some mean son of a bitch that was probably going to kill me all my life. I don't remember thinking I had anything but right now." The cursing wasn't meant to be disrespectful. It was just the way she talked most of the time, and right that moment, she didn't care about anything much. "School?" She looked confused for a moment, then shook her head. She'd forgotten that kids her age were in school right then. "I haven't been to school in a long time. Don't go to school and not going to go back."
She looked around again, eyes stopping on the shattered colors on the floor thrown there by the afternoon light shining through stained glass. "Never been in a church except one time in my life. I'm here because at least some of them won't kill me here." She looked up again at Lenore. "It's probably not going to save me, but it's what I can do. They're tearing each other up out there. I always knew I wasn't immortal, and always knew I could die today, but now.. I'm probably really going to die today. It's alright, though." She nodded. "It's not going to be alright, but that's alright."
She hadn't given up exactly. She was going to do what she could to stay alive, but she just needed to think about what if it didn't work. She needed to know it didn't matter so she could do what she had to do no matter what happened.
"They might forget about me if I don't screw up." She had started to talk to the woman because she was in between panic and writing herself off. Now the process was complete, and she was calm and ready to use her head... and she wondered if she had already screwed up by telling this... what the hell was she, a nun? Maybe they had that thing like priests where they couldn't tell anyone the stuff people tell them. She saw that in a gangster movie. You could tell a priest you killed somebody and God would forgive you and he couldn't turn you in. Well, God wouldn't forgive Laura, but that was different.
Lenore pursed her lips and
Lenore pursed her lips and sighed softly at Laura, perfectly ready to accept the fact that someone might kill a child (she had performed that very duty herself) but the way this girl was speaking seemed more like some sort of theatrics. Also, there was the fact that Laura appeared to be about 12 - and while killing a child had been performed as a punishment towards somebody else? Hunting down a young girl and killing her because of something she'd done? Not particularly the way of most of the people Lenore was aware of. Naughty children got a beating, not a bullet to the forehead. Lenore also did not quite approve of swearing in church, let alone using the place as some sort of glorified hidey-hole.
"If your time's come, then it's come, whether you're in a church or not, so that's rather ridiculous, isn't it? You're talking yourself in circles - who's 'they' and why have you convinced yourself that they're after you? Sweetheart if it's a mob you're talking about then I very much think they have better things to do than look for some scrawny little girl who might have given them cheek. Especially today. Are you hungry? We'll go and get some lunch if you like, and you can stop worrying."
"I'm not a little kid. I'm
"I'm not a little kid. I'm sixteen." She emphasized her age. Laura was quite convinced that she was all grown up, but of course, she still had a very healthy teenage love for the dramatic. As for who was after her, she chose to shut her big mouth. If anyone really was looking for her, it was best not to call attention to the fact. Besides, the lady seemed about like a hundred others she'd known. Neighbors, teachers, social workers... She was not the kind to listen, even if you wanted to say something. Seemed like she had her mind all made up before you ever said a word. And she was a Christian. It was better not to talk about 'her time' with a Christian.
Mention of food made her realize she was hungry. Running for your life has a way of making you forget about lunch. But she didn't have much money. "I guess I could go for a piece of pie."
She wasn't going to worry anymore, but it wasn't because the nice lady said she was being stupid. It was because it didn't really matter anyway. She'd leave the church with her, partly because if she was with an older person, it would look like a lady and her kid and she'd be safer. Paranoid? She preferred to think of it as careful.
Lenore laughed brightly, not
Lenore laughed brightly, not in a mocking fashion - it just took her by surprise, "Well then I'm sorry! You look so young that's all," She remembered being 16. Of course, she had looked much older, and had already been one of the Konovich's favourite cut-throats. The same could be true of Laura, of course, she could be more important than she looked, you never knew, but it didn't seem that way. Important people didn't hide like mice. But no matter.
"You're right of course, sixteen isn't a child. I'm Lenore. Will you let me take you to lunch? I used to live on the street, when I was a little younger than you, so I know what it's like," Lenore didn't speak like she was trying to get an in, or make a pity plea - she wasn't - she just knew that a lot of the kids out there didn't take kindly to charity, and apparently the Lord had sent her this waif as way of a sign. Lenore wanted her to stop being so panicked and scared. That was no way to live.
Laura frowned slightly at
Laura frowned slightly at the laugh and at the part about her looking so young, but said nothing. She hated it, even though she'd been told she would appreciate it when she was forty. She couldn't really imagine living that long, so in her mind, she was never going to appreciate looking years younger than she was. She got no respect.
Her boss made use of the fact that she looked like a little kid, and really, it was a big part of why they had kept her around. She was inconspicuous, and old enough to know what was what. And then there was Mutt and his uses for her.
Being nobody and being quiet was how she survived. She had learned young to keep her head down and her mouth shut. She would agree that it was no way to live. The problem was, for her, for now, it was the only way to stay alive. It made her intensely angry, but there wasn't a hell of a lot she could do about it. Not yet.
As for charity... Laura had no problem with a free meal if she could get one. It was way better than no meal. There were, of course, things she wouldn't do in the interest of survival... That was a short list. She had her own ideas about pride and dignity that a lot of people just wouldn't get or wouldn't agree with.
"Yeah, sure... thanks." She carefully twisted her hair up tight and stuffed the cap down over it, then popped the collar of her coat to both keep her neck warm, and to hide the mark there. This woman was a Christian and wasn't going to listen to a damn thing, but she was going to get fed and have a 'mommy' to walk down the street with while anyone who was looking for her would be looking for a kid all alone.
Usually Lenore wouldn't drag
Usually Lenore wouldn't drag someone from church mid-prayer, but it didn't seem like this girl was very keen to talk to God, and if Lenore had been sent her she would deal with her in a sensible fashion, which was getting her some food and getting her to discuss whatever was bothering her in a setting where she felt more comfortable. The Cathedral was holy ground. It was not good for discussions.
"Come along then, there's a nice cafe across the road," she said in a brisk tone, looking at Laura expectantly, "You are living on the street, I suppose? If you're not in school. Your tattoo - is it some gang thing? Is that why you think you're in trouble?"
"Not in school for a lot of
"Not in school for a lot of reasons, but yeah... I haven't been since I got out on my own a couple of years ago." She stuck her nose out of the church doors and looked both ways before stepping back out into the cold street. Laura didn't say she had a place because at that moment, she wasn't sure she was ever going back there.
Her voice was quieter when she spoke of the tattoo, and it was clear that she didn't consider that a topic for public places. "It's my boss's mark." She didn't mention the meaning behind the location of that mark.
Laura figured it was time to change the subject. Most people's favorite subject... themselves. "So... you a nun or something?" The woman had a school teacher attitude. Authority. Seemed like she was used to being in charge, or at least in charge of people five feet and under. She knew from movies that stern women who hung out at churches and bossed people around were usually nuns, even if they weren't wearing the ... there was a name for it... she was briefly preoccupied with mentally groping for the proper term, but her mind wouldn't latch onto it, so it just filled in 'nun uniform'.
"A nun?" said Lenore raising
"A nun?" said Lenore raising her eyebrows. Nun's were... old. And didn't dress as sharply as Lenore, either, for that matter. But if the girl was uneducated and not a church goer, she might not know that. "No, dear, I'm not a nun - I work just down the street, at the hospital. I'm a nurse."
She didn't mention the tattoo again either, holding the heavy church doors open for the girl, but she considered it. It wasn't a mark she recognised. There were a lot of street gangs and the like - although the only infamous one Lenore could think of was a strictly boys only thing.
Laura paused, looking Lenore
Laura paused, looking Lenore up and down before she started across the street. Her gait and manner of speaking were suddenly much more masculine. She wondered why the woman would be in church in the middle of the day all by herself, but then, she'd never been able to figure out church people. "On your lunch break?" You'd think someone who got a lunch break this late would be in a hurry to eat. Laura wasn't one to question her own good luck, though. If Lenore had been in a hurry, she probably wouldn't be eating today.
Most of the people in certain circles or in a certain small neighborhood would know the mark immediately, but really, though Joey O'Malley was ambitious, he was young and wasn't all that important yet. Few outside his territory or particular occupation would know the tattoo. Mostly he was in charge of a group of drivers for a bootlegging operation. He also had a few drug dealers scattered around the neighborhood and a sideline of helping wayward girls find their way into prostitution and slavery.
Lenore shook her head as
Lenore shook her head as they slipped into the Cafe she liked, a little more expensive than Nighthawkes, but less greasy, and Lenore wanted tea that did not involve lumpy powdered milk, "Not my lunch break, no, I work a night shift tonight. So I've got plenty of time, if that's what you're worried about. You've got dreadful posture you know," she remarked suddenly, pressing a firm hand against the small of Laura's back, guiding her into the restaurant, "You ought not to walk rolling your shoulders like that." It was not that Lenore was patronizing because the girl was young - it was just that Lenore was patronizing in general, and with some people it had a tendency to come out more.
"Night shift? When do you
"Night shift? When do you sleep?" Her old man worked a night shift sometimes for a really big project. He slept the whole day and wanted them quiet or out of the house until right at dark.
When Lenore shoved a hand into her back, Laura made a choked off surprised noise. "Grk!" She walked stiffly for a couple of steps, eyes widened, but then as the guiding continued at a steady pace, the tension in her body broke and Lenore had complete compliance.
Laura glanced up at the woman, her expression slightly stunned, and did her best to hold herself as she thought was expected, while still trying to decide if she wanted to think about why or if she should. There was something oddly comforting in it, but at the same time, it was just weird. She didn't know if the lady noticed anything strange in her behavior, and that made her a little self-conscious about it, though she had decided to just go with the compliance now, and think about it later.
oh, bugger
.
Lenore felt the girl
Lenore felt the girl stiffen, and withdrew her hand gently, pulling out a chair for herself and gesturing to the one opposite - she wondered about Laura's twitchiness, and pursed her lips slightly - she'd met young girls who didn't like to be touched. Plenty of them. It was not something she approved of.
"Is someone hurting you, Laura?" she asked, in a quiet, sharp tone, "You've got a strange tattoo on the back of your neck, and you're running and hiding and acting very oddly. It's not unusual for men to take advantage of women your age, you know. You can tell me, I won't judge you."
She didn't speak like some soft and floral soup-kitchen worker. She was crisp and fairly brisk with her questioning of Laura. If God had sent her this girl, it was for a reason - and Lenore considered herself someone who helped people. She ended suffering.
Laura sat, trying to look
Laura sat, trying to look more casual than she felt, then remembering her posture, she straightened in the chair. The question took her by surprise, though it probably shouldn't have. It was a tricky thing to answer and she had to think about it for a few seconds. They always say it's not their place to judge. It's not their place to judge, except you're going to hell and they seem to like saying so. She glanced up as she started to speak, and then down at the menu. "Not really." It depended on how you defined hurt. No one was doing anything to her that left scars anymore. "Sometimes if I mess up." She was a church person, right? They think kids are supposed to get smacked around a little now and then, don't they? She'd probably be okay with that answer. When Laura messed up, that's when she got hurt in a bad way. This lady probably wouldn't understand the other stuff. It sounded like she was thinking of doing something and the girl couldn't think of anything a church lady might do that would be good for her. She couldn't have the woman calling the law and sure as hell didn't want to go off to the orphanage. It would be two years before they let her go and it was run by the church, which was the last place she belonged. Not that Mutt would leave her there. If he was still alive.
She chose to ignore the part about the tattoo. "Things are just a little crazy today." There was an understatement. "Seen people dead. People I play cards with." That was the hard part. Laura had seen dead people before, but not the ones she hung out with. Not more than one at a time, anyway. She'd gone to Red's and there were police all outside and they were bringing out bodies. Then she went to get Jimmy and Doc and found the door open and smeared with blood. Back down the hall, where the little kitchen was, she could see a hand that was missing the little finger reaching out of the doorway. Doc. There was blood with gobs of stuff in it on the wall near the door. It was very, very quiet. She'd stood on the step staring, and then ran. But Mutt and Joey were gone when she got back. No sign of trouble, but Joey's place was empty, so she kept running.
Lenore clicked her tongue,
Lenore clicked her tongue, "No-one has the right to hurt you, even if you 'mess up' - mistakes are part of life, and yours are between you and God, no-one else," she said this with the air of someone who very much thought this girl's problems were her business, and the irony was lost. But then again, Lenore considered herself an instrument of the Lord - not just another sheep in the flock, "You shouldn't let people hurt you. That's no way to live your life - miserable and scared. You ought to enjoy being alive," said Lenore, as if she was explaining the rules of spelling, all while trying to catch the eye of the waitress.
She turned back to Laura and gave a small twitchy smile, and lowered her voice slightly - not that it wasn't hushed already, "So I assume if you've been seeing people dead today, you're an O'Malley? Or at least, one of their underling gophers? Violent people. Which of their little street operations have you got tangled in?" she asked with mild curiosity rather than disapproval. Lenore had knowledge of the O'Malley's, of course she did, she'd killed Eddie for them, hadn't she? Lord knew that was fresh in her thoughts. The Konovich's were her speciality, and their killings were quieter affairs - not something a 16 year old girl would stumble upon. Unless she was the one doing the killing.
Laura was still looking down
Laura was still looking down at the menu, but she turned her eyes up, looking through her lashes as if trying to keep that little flash of... was that anger?... to herself. Yeah. That was anger. Her mood had turned very quickly at the talk of rights and God. Both were sore subjects. Laura's voice was tight as she tried to keep it in check. People could talk about how somebody ought to live, and that was easy enough to do when you weren't in their place. "Being alive don't always have to be fun. I don't have anything but me and I'm staying alive every minute I can." In spite of men and God... Between her and God? There was nothing between her and God. Least of all her mistakes. "Men do whatever they want and God's not interested."
"Why are you alive if you
"Why are you alive if you don't enjoy it? What's the point?" said Lenore, tipping her head at Laura, genuinely interested, "Is it because you're scared to die? There's no use in being scared in the inevitable. If you don't want to die then you ought to enjoy your life. That's just common sense," she spoke in a fairly light tone, and again beckoned at the waitress.
"I'm not scared. I don't
"I'm not scared. I don't want to die, but I'm not scared. I want every bit of my life, even the bad shit." She was fully aware that she was cursing, unlike before, and was actually doing it as a sort of challenge to the woman, though she didn't know it was because she felt challenged herself.
"The point is, if it's all I got, I want it all."