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peter_weps_ince
Feb. 12th, 2004 01:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mute_clayIt’s the ocean. The Sea.
He’s never seen it before.
Has always imagined it to be like the lake.
Just bigger.
He hadn’t thought it would be like this.
There are people about, noises, smells, but all he can hear is the sound of the waves, the heart of the great water beating against the shore. The pier. It is all he can smell – no – all he can taste.
The lake was like a looking glass hidden in the heart of the forest, but this –
This is like the woods themselves. Beautiful, and dark, and terrifying. Calling, just like the forest could, but with rhythmic sounds instead of whispering trees.
A drum instead of a flute.
And yet, so alike.
He’d been elated when Orlando had taken him to the state park, but there had been paths, and people. And picnic tables. This is more like it.
This is wildness.
Ancient and untameable.
Clay’s aware that he probably looks like a moron standing there. But it doesn’t matter. How can anything matter when the world is wild and beautiful?
He walks closer.
He’s never seen it before.
Has always imagined it to be like the lake.
Just bigger.
He hadn’t thought it would be like this.
There are people about, noises, smells, but all he can hear is the sound of the waves, the heart of the great water beating against the shore. The pier. It is all he can smell – no – all he can taste.
The lake was like a looking glass hidden in the heart of the forest, but this –
This is like the woods themselves. Beautiful, and dark, and terrifying. Calling, just like the forest could, but with rhythmic sounds instead of whispering trees.
A drum instead of a flute.
And yet, so alike.
He’d been elated when Orlando had taken him to the state park, but there had been paths, and people. And picnic tables. This is more like it.
This is wildness.
Ancient and untameable.
Clay’s aware that he probably looks like a moron standing there. But it doesn’t matter. How can anything matter when the world is wild and beautiful?
He walks closer.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Re:
Date: 2004-02-13 01:18 am (UTC)"Sorry, Clay... just thinking about things back home. I have a young son. I miss him. I was teaching him to fish."
Re:
Date: 2004-02-13 01:24 am (UTC)He touches his heart and bows his head slightly, hair falling in his face.
I'm sorry
Then he spreads his hands a little and looks pained. He knows he cannot do anything to make it easier.
Re:
Date: 2004-02-13 02:39 am (UTC)"Thanks ... it's just difficult at times. I can be fine for a while and then something reminds me."
Weps pauses. "This is going to sound crazy... but you make me think of him. He always would sit quiet while I fished; and his hair falls over his face like yours...fuck.. I'm sorry..."
Weps rubs his eyes with the back of his hand and stands quickly, walking to where his fishing rod is anchored and looking out to sea.
Re:
Date: 2004-02-13 03:08 am (UTC)Being reminded.
Sometimes, Orlando reminds him of Callie. They both want to invite the whole world into their house and put a band aid on its scraped knee.
He takes out the photo of Callie from his back pocket. David had taken him to have copies made and they'd gotten the man at the copy shop to laminate a color copy of the photo. He takes it with him everywhere but he doesn't look at it often.
She's smiling at him from the photo.
He sighs.
Re:
Date: 2004-02-13 05:42 am (UTC)"I'm sorry, Clay - turns out I wasn't much company for you. And the stripers don't want to bite today. Think I'll head back."
He walks over to Clay and looks down at the photograph over his shoulder.
"She's pretty - she your girl, Clay?"
Re:
Date: 2004-02-13 06:09 am (UTC)He considers, then signs drinking something, points to Weps, himself, and back the way they came.
Wanna get a cup of coffee or a beer?
Re:
Date: 2004-02-13 06:46 am (UTC)"Yeah. A beer'd be great," he says. He holds the sweater out to Clay. "And you look cold - wanna borrow this?"
Re:
Date: 2004-02-13 08:31 am (UTC)He stuffs his hands in his pockets and starts walking back the way they came.
He hates the thought of leaving the beach and decides to go back soon.
He taps Weps' arm to get his attention and holds up the palm of his left hand so it is visible. Then he writes W O R K ? on it and raises his eyebrows questioningly.
Re:
Date: 2004-02-13 09:39 pm (UTC)"You mean do I work? Or do I know of work?" He smiles and touches Clay's arm. "Or neither of those?"
Re:
Date: 2004-02-13 10:57 pm (UTC)I'm a carpenter. What do you do?
He would have guessed military on account of the hair, but Weps seems less - starched - than the other service people he's met.
Re:
Date: 2004-02-13 11:04 pm (UTC)"Sorry - still new to this. I'm a lieutenant in the navy, Clay - on a submarine. I'm the Weapons Officer - that's why I get called Weps - in an emergency its easier to shout than lieutenant - or Peter..."
Re:
Date: 2004-02-14 11:42 am (UTC)The movie had been dull but he'd been able to feel the pressure of the water and steel.
He tries to sign that, getting squished, narrow space, before touching his own chest and shaking his head, clicking his tongue for emphasis and shaking his head.
He really needs to get hold of a pad.