Starring:
…with special guest, Frauline Ursula Beeches
Date: October 17, 2009
Summary:
Cam and Charlotte are just getting into the swing of things when another fugitive turns up.
"1937"
Orphanage, Germany
It's taken Cam a couple days to adjust to the new schedule here at the orphanage, but he's a lot more energetic this morning as he comes out of the room he's been sharing with Micah. He's got a comic in hand, probably one bought the other day on his trip to town with Micah.
Charlotte lets out a little yelp of surprise as, paper between her fingers nad coffee mug in her hands, she almost runs right into Cam as he comes skipping out. She notes the skipping. Skipping is good. Skipping means he's not miserable. "Hey!" she says, laughing as she steps back. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"
Cam isn't so much skipping, just energetic. Still, he pulls up short as Charlotte is suddenly right there, and he grins, "Sorry." Then he shrugs to the question and says, "Just down for breakfast. Well, to see if breakfast is ready anyway."
"I made some eggs, but we might be all out. Come on, I'll make you some more." She tucks the paper under her arm and turns to walk with the boy, letting him go down the narrow stairs first. "How did you sleep? Were you too warm or too cold or anything?" Charlotte asks, slurping her coffee as she walks, keeping her arm up precariously so as not to slosh any of the black stuff.
Cam follows after Charlotte with a grin, "Thanks." Then he answers, "Little too warm. But if the room was cold enough for me, it'd be freezing for Micah, so it's ok, I can deal." As they make their way downstairs, he says, "This place is awesome. A lot better than being stuck with that foster family when they took me away from Niki, when she'd lost her memory."
Charlotte gets downstairs, and leads him to the main stairwell, which brings them to the first-floor/half ground kitchen. There's a child sitting there, and across from him is
Frauline Beeches. "Guttentak," she says, and the child brokenly repeats it. Language learning! Charlotte gives each child a kiss on the cheek and moves behind the stove, turning on the gas and lighting a match until flames burst up. "I'm very happy you like it." Beeches continues her lesson. "Just remember that there are rules, and you might want to refrain from abilities inside the house. That young Polish girl broke two lamps yesterday." Doing what is anyone's guess, but… "Also, in the next week or so we'll have ot arrange you and Micah with some chores. All the kids have them."
Cam follows Charlotte, waving to Frauline Beeches and the other kid, moving to find a spot to sit down. "Isn't it safer to practice inside than outside? Someone outside might be passing by and see. And I don't mind chores, my mom used to give me some every day too. My real mom, I mean."
"I think Frauline is going to set something up in the basement, but for now just…keep it under wraps," said teh woman who teleports to a different continent every few hours. "And most of the chores around here might not be the same as you're used to…some might be outside." Like on the feilds they have behind the house. It's not child labor! It's chores! "Just an hour a day or so. We want to try and get you guys studying too, but…it's hard." Charlotte sets a clean pan over the flame and cracks two eggs. "Did you want them scrambled or what, hun?"
Frauline Beeches, having sent the child on it's way, uses her cane to stand and walks over to the two Americans, leaning on the island that seperates the cooking area from the eating area in this cozy kitchen. Even for such a bit house, cozy kitchens are nice. "Don't you know," she says in her German accent as she settles down on one of the stools. "It's rhude to talk about peeple when they aren't looking? Or hearing? I'm not shure which." She taps the ground with her cane, peering over at CAm. "So which one is this one again? Cam, isn't that right?"
Cam blinks, "Outside? Cool. Do I have to wear a jacket though? That's gonna be hot, unless it's snowing out. And yeah, scrambled please." He looks up to Frauline then, "That's right, I'm Cam." They're all in the kitchen of the orphanage, Frauline Beeches, Cam, and Charlotte. Charlotte seems to be starting to cook some eggs.
Charlotte begins to scramble the eggs as they sizzle on the pan. "Do you like tobasco or anything like that?" she asks, her tone almost practiced. She is a waitress after all. Seeing Frauline Beeches joining them, Charlotte gives the old woman a pleasant, dimpled smile. "We were only saying good things, Frauline. And yes, this is Cam like he says. Be nice to him, alright, he's a good friend of mine." She continues to cook the eggs, looking back to Cam. "I don't think you'll have to wear a jacket, I suppose. Will you get cold, do you think? I mean, not cold cold, like a cough, a sickness cold."
Frauline Beeches sits back on the stool a bit, holding the cane regally between her hands, the tip resting on the hardwood floors of the little kitchen. "What do you mean, 'nieec'," she says, ehr accent German but her english rather good. "I am always nieec. You're eating my eggs, aren't you?" She leans up, peering over Charlotte's shoulder before settling down again with a grumble. "And make me some too, please, if you wouldn't mind dear." While that's finally decided, Beeches looks back to Cam. "He looks a little small, I think he can help in the harvest. Small hands, it will be helpful. How old are you, Cam?"
There's only a tiny ruckus outside in the hallways when a blast of wind comes barreling in through the front door. If the kids aren't sleeping then they're doing their morning routines and chores, leaving just an assistant and the small boy in her arms to be startled by the sudden appearance of Daphne. Ignoring the questioning looks, the speedster begins strolling her way to doorways, listening for certain voices. It's at the kitchen where the smell of food and noise of conversation brings her. She invites herself into the room, tugging at a long pea-coat that is a new accessory. "Cozy," she comments of the kitchen scenery, sounding flippant and bored until her eyes alight on what is a second familiar face. Oh. Hello, small boy from the wedding.
Cam shakes his head quickly to Charlotte, "No more than I would with a jacket, I mean. If someone coughs on me or something. Never been sick from being out in the cold, just heat exhaustion from being too hot." He looks to Frauline Beeches again and answers, "I'm fourteen." Daphne's entrance, or more specifically that it's Daphne entering, has him blinking as he looks to her. "Wow, you're here too?"
Charlotte turns at the sound of afamiliar voice, smiling a dimpled smile to the blonde.
"Daphne! Come in, sit down. Have some eggs. I'm so glad you came," in truth, the presence of other adults is a nice touch. So many Evo-kids without so many Evo-adults would lead to trouble anyway. "Daphne, this is Frauline Beeches. Beeches, this is Daphne. The Frauline owns and operates the orphanage. Now, how do you like your eggs?" Just like Charlotte. What, things going on? But breakfast! "Are you really 14 already, Cam? We're going to have to get you some nice slacks, pretty soon you'll be hitting up the town with all the German ladies!" She pauses, thinkinga moment. "Not town, not village…hamlet, that's the word."
Ursula Beeches had just lifted the German paper to her nose when she hears Daphne come in, and she peers over the strange jumbles of words and letters to look narrowly over Daphne. Well she doesn't look dangerous! "Charlotte, now who is this?" She asks, lowering her paper. "Have you been telling everyone about us? Is this another name I have to remember? You keep bringing me the strangest names too! I still think that the little Russo-girl is young enough where we can give her a sensible name, like Mary, and she'd grow into it. Instead of…whatever she is right now, not even she can say it properly."
"Just visiting," is the quick response from Daphne for both Cam and Charlotte's greetings. Her gaze falls to the Frauline when they're all introduced to each other and although her mouth has a stubborn look to it, she answers nicely enough. "Sunnyside up." In her hand is a plastic shopping bag and she swings it idly while wandering closer to the table. Eyeing Cam first, she gives him a little cheeky eyebrow raise before watching Beeches again. "Don't worry, you don't have to remember anything about me. Most people don't even see me." It's said a bit smugly, not at all sad, but since her speedy entrance was missed by those in the kitchen, the point might fall flat. Not minding that, the speedster adds, impishly, "Oh yeah? What's the name, then?"
Cam grins back to Charlotte and says, "I've been fourteen since March." Then he shakes his head quickly, blushing a little at the talk of German ladies. He looks back to Daphne then and asks, since Frauline Beeches didn't know her, "Did you just get here?"
Charlotte nods, going into the fridge and pulling out the carton of eggs, cracking two more into a seperate pan just as Cam's come off the stove. "Ketchup or anything, Cam?" She asks, giving the boy a smile as she gets a fork from the drawer, tucking it neatly under the fluffy yellow clouds of deliciousness. "There's coffee too, if you want it, Daphne. I have to ask, too - what changed your mind about coming here?"
Frauline Beeches glances once more at Daphne before bringing her own coffee mug to her lips. "I see you now, don't I? So there's already remembering to be done. I'm old, don't test me on things like this. Daphne, was it? I suppose that's not so bad." She sips her coffee, lifting the paper and flipping it stiff so she can continue reading. Peering at theletters again, she seems almost distracted by DAphne's follow-up. "What's the name? The russian's name? Oh hell if I know."
Daphne lifts and drops a single shoulder shrug for what she clearly believes is Frauline's prerogative to bother with any of it. But she does give a bit of a grin at the disregard for the Russian name. Afterwards, Beeches is left to her own devices while the speedster kicks out a chair across from Cam and sits, stretching her arms out along the table surface lazily. The plastic bag gets strung along the top corner of her seat to hang there. "Just-just got here," she clarifies for the boy, "And not staying," is added for Charlotte, giving the other woman a steady glance. "Now that I'm in this business, I thought I might as well scope the locations. All the better to get here later."
Cam, as Beeches says she doesn't know the Russian girl's name, replies, "Anastasiya. At least, that's what it sounds like she's saying. Maybe just call her Anna, or Stacy, for short." He nods quickly to Charlotte then and says, "Yeah, ketchup definitely. Please," he adds quickly.
Ketchup it is! The red stuff is squirted onto a little side of the plate, and the whole thing is handed over. Charlotte takes the pan to the sink to wash it while Daphne's eggs keep on sizzlin'. "In this business?" Charlotte asks, looking over her shoulder with a surprised - but pleased - look. "Really?"
Frauline Beeches flips her paper up again and continues to read, even as the conversation continues to go on around her. "Something like that," she murmers in response to Cam's explination. "I never cared for the Russians much anyway, but she seems a sweet enough girl,"
"Maybe it should be whatever she wants to be called." Daphne's beginning to lean, trying to get an eyeful of whatever part of the paper Beeches isn't reading. Chances are she can't actually read it, but that doesn't seem to be stopping her from scanning.
"Really, really," she informs Charlotte as if it really weren't that important. "I had a bit of a…" Briefly, something sparkles in her eyes; her face brightens with some memory. A simple head shake dispels the look, though. "Anyway, what matters is we're going after those people." She straightens a bit in her seat, choosing to focus on Cam with more attention now. "So, I remember now, you knew those crazy people from the wedding. And Peter."
Cam smiles as the breakfast is delivered, "Thanks." He starts to eat quickly. Not as quickly as that wedding, though. This time, it's normal adolescent hunger. He stops to look back up to Daphne and answer, "Yep. Especially Peter, he was a good friend of Niki, my old foster mom."
"Have you spoken to Peter? Are you working through him?" Charlotte asks, as she fishes the two eggs off the plate very gingerly and brings them over to Daphne with a knife and a fork. And there's coffee too. Like Daphne needs that. Charlotte takes the second pan and begins washing it as well. "There's a few other people to go through as well, I'm finding out. We're not the only ones concerned about the trains."
As Daphne leans closer and closer, Frauline Beeches doesn't really seem to recognize it's happening yet. "I vould be happy to call her anything she wants to be called, but what good it is to be called something if no one can call you it because no one can say it?" The old woman turns to look over at Daphne and finds her very close. Beeches throws up her hands. "Ach! Don't you have personal boundries in your country? And who ess this Beter? Is this another name I have to know?"
Tilting her head innocently to the side, Daphne slides back to her side of the table, not even addressing what she's been called out for. It's far more appealing to pick up the fork and begin to work away at the first egg. "Yeah, sure, that's what we're doing," she nods to Charlotte, though her lips turn down disdainfully, "Well, other people better hurry it up. There's always going to be more concerned. The point is to do something about it before it becomes even crazier." She's clearly restless, but she covers it by idly eating. So far, she doesn't touch the coffee. Instead, she glances back at her own bag then at Cam then stops herself from looking at the bag once more. Slice slice. She's carving her way around the yellow egg center.
Cam nods seriously to Charlotte and says, "I hope they do it soon too. So maybe this whole thing can be over and we all won't have to hide." Then he adds, "This place is the best, but I can't even get Charlotte to take me to visit my parents or we'll get caught."
Charlotte, now done with the dishes, returns to lean on the counter and offer a sad smile to Cam, reaching out to touch the boy's hand. "It'll be over soon," she promises, and indeed she truley believes that. "It's crazy what they're doing now, they'll realize it soon enough." Turning, the brunette once more turns her attention to Daphne. "A lot of this stuff has to be done carefully, so no one else gets hurt…making mistakes can be costly." It's more than a flash of shame and guilt that crosses Charlotte's features.
While listening to all of this, Frauline Beeches has said little. She sips her coffee, eyes
glancing from Daphne to Charlotte, to Cam and back again. Finally, she sets her coffee cup down and lifts the paper a bit higher to hide her face. Her words come out gently. "The last time I heard this conversation, I was ten years old and it was 1937." That's all she says.
"Sure, careful, I get it, I do. But you can also get paranoid and stuck in a cycle where you're not doing anything." Maybe it's that guilt on Charlotte's face, but Daphne speaks with a certain conviction she was missing in the rest of the conversation. She is perhaps interrupted by her curiosity at looking towards the Frauline's now hidden face. Whatever the case, turning back to the others, she's lost her lecture somewhere. Instead, she watches Cam with sympathy and a little more, "Sorry about your parents, kid." She knows it's hard - hard to turn around when you're going in the other direction in fear for too long.
Cam nods a little to Charlotte, and then says to Daphne, "Thanks." It's Frauline Beeches' comment that catches his attention, and he asks, "Is it really like back then?" No question of what happened. This boy knows his history, rarity though that may be in American kids.
Charlotte wipes her hands on a rag, nodding and looking away from Daphne. "Right, well, on that matter, I do hvae a few places I have to be. Cam, there's some money in my room if you and Micah need to go to town for anything." She nods, smiling gently to Daphne. "Stay as long as you like, we can get you a room set up if you need." And she turns, making her way up the stairs and out of the kitchen.
Frauline Beeches, in the meantime, just watches Charlotte go with a shake of her head and a soft tsking of her tongue. "No," she finally answers to Cam, but it's the single word. No explination. Just no. Beyond that, she doesn't really say anything, and instead just focuses on the newspaper she's reading, staying quiet.
"Later, Charlotte," the speedster sends after the other woman before going back to her teleporter-provided breakfast. Daphne digs at the eggs for a bit more before it turns into just distracted picking and each clank of her fork isn't producing much anymore. At this point, she clasps her hands against the table and angles herself very seriously at Cam. "Hey. Kid. 'Especially Peter', so you'd say you know him pretty well, huh?"
Cam waves to Charlotte, "Ok, thanks." By the time Daphne asks him that question, he's finished his own eggs as well, and he sits back. He nods quickly and says, "Yep, sure. Well, not super well, but good enough I guess. Why?"
There's a point where Daphne hesitates again, glancing at the now silent Frauline, before she twists in her seat and flicks a finger against the plastic bag she's got there. "Have a little something for him, but it's a bit ironic. And, well, the guy doesn't exactly know how to access his sense of humor, you know. Just wondering if you… knew, I don't know, what makes him smile the most." She shrugs, like maybe that'll make it seem less important to her.
Cam thinks about that a long moment, and then says, "I dunno for sure. He cares about everybody else a lot, maybe making other people happy? I dunno. Everything's been so serious whenever I've seen him. Even staying with him lately, until Charlotte brought me here, haven't seen him happy much."
Daphne watches Cam for the most part as he talks, but she does tilt her head away once, thinking hard with lips pressed, before returning to the boy. "No. You have a point. Guess it's just time some things changed." Whatever that means. She breaks away from the table, "Been great and all, but I've got other places to be. Don't do anything stupid." It's perhaps a bizarre show of concern, but it's at least there. Snatching up her half-empty plate, she suddenly picks up the speed to clear all of the dishes off the table, leaving them in the sink to be washed. For an instant, she's standing there normal-like again, seemingly sizing Cam up, and then she takes off out the door she came in.