All it took was a split second.
The rehearsal was about to start, the set was more or less set up, and Beatrice was waiting to put the head of her costume on, sitting on the edge of the stage, when Michelle sat beside her. Beatrice looked up from the script in her big costumed paw hands and smiled at Michelle, who smiled back. "This is exciting," Michelle said, "I'm excited anyway. I've never been a part of anything like this." "You didn't do theatre in school or anything?" Bea asked. "No, I always wanted to, but my breathing kind of kept me locked off from a lot of the extracurricular activities I wanted to participate in," Michelle said, glancing over her shoulder at the stage behind them, adding, "that's why this is such a big deal to me." "Well, I'm glad to be able to give you that experience then," Bea said. And that was when they heard it. The snap. All it took was a split second. A split second of unawareness. Someone shouted as a young grip leaped out of the way as one of the stage lights overhead came crashing down, just missing hitting her head. As she rolled over onto her back, Beatrice stood up and raced over to her, kneeling down. "Are you alright?" she asked, and the woman nodded hesitantly, unaware of how she was meant to respond. "I...I just...I heard something snapping and...and I saw someone waving at me to move and I jumped," she said, pushing some errant strands of black hair out of her eyes and adding as she looked up at Bea, who was cradling her head in her lap, "All I knew was the universal signal for 'move out of the way fast', so that's what I did." Bea laughed and nodded, "Well, thank goodness you at least managed to dodge it. I'll go have a talk with the stage hands and see why this happened." Bea looked at Michelle as she approached them and whispered to her as she passed by. "Take her to the first aid station please, I'm going up to the lighting catwalk," Beatrice said. Michelle did as she was told and helped the young woman up, taking her away into the halls, towards the first aid station as Beatrice strode to the ladder that led up to the catwalk where the lighting was rigged. As she began climbing, she heard footsteps on the ladder behind her, and looked over her shoulder briefly to see Eliza coming up behind her. "Did you need something sweetheart?" Bea asked. "No, just following," Eliza said, making Bea smile a little. As the women reached the catwalk, they spotted a young man with short scruffy brown hair and a dirty beard shadow, wearing a salmon colored button down shirt and light brown pants, approach them, already apologizing profusely with his face alone. "I am so so sorry," he said, "It was a total accident, it just wasn't attached properly and I realized too late and I-" "What's your name?" Bea asked. "His name is Simon," Eliza said, surprising Simon, who looked at her confused. "How did you-" "She knows everyones name," Bea answered, "Simon, listen to me, okay? You're right. It was an accident, and accidents happen, and thankfully nobody was hurt. I like to think that's because I've cultivated a crew that looks out for one another. Why don't you take the rest of the day off and come back in tomorrow, okay? We have more than enough people who can set up these lights. Just take it easy, maybe go see the girl you almost squished and tell her how sorry you are." "Yeah, okay, sure, I'm...okay," Simon said, clearly frazzled as he walked towards the ladder to head back down. As soon as he was out of earshot, Bea looked at Eliza and shook her head. "I can't fire him," Bea said, "I'm not that kind of person. That'll be up to someone else if they so chose to do that, but it can't be me...can you do me a favor? Can you go with him to see that girl, and if you see Michelle please bring her back to me. She and I need to talk to Stephanie about what's happened." "Yes, okay, I can do that," Eliza said, hurrying to the ladder and heading down, following Simon quickly. They reached the first aid station in no time flat, just as Michelle was exiting the room. "She's in there," Michelle said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder at the door, "if you wanna-" "Yeah, thank you," Simon said, hurrying past her, trying not to be rude. Michelle cleared her throat and looked at Eliza, who was chewing on the end of her braid, trying not to laugh. "What?" Michelle asked, smirking. "It's like, one of those things, you know, where people meet in a cute way and then they tell their kids the story," Eliza said, giggling. "Right, 'hey kids, wanna hear about how I almost beaned your mom in the brain with a piece of lighting equipment? it's SUPER romantic'," Michelle said, the both of them breaking out in laughter now; after a moment, Michelle asked, "Since production is probably halted for a bit, do you wanna go get coffee or something?" "Bea said she needs you, that, uh, you and she need to talk to Stephanie," Eliza said, "but...I guess it could wait a little bit." *** "What do you mean someone almost died?" Leslie asked, sitting on her office phone back at the public broadcasting station, "Like, you personally, or you inadvertently? Second hand murder or something?" "There was an accident on set before rehearsal," Bea said into the phone in her and Michelle's office, still partially in costume, sitting on the desk, "a young woman almost got her head crushed by a light that fell from the ceiling." "Jesus," Leslie said, "That's terrifying." "I need to make sure that nobody on this crew ever comes to harm, okay?" Bea asked, "I'm gonna talk to Steph in a bit when Michelle gets back to me, but I think we need to have a safety inspector or something. Far too much bullshit happened on the last set, and I...I refuse to allow anyone to work like that again. I refuse." "Alright, well, if that's your call then so be it," Leslie said, chewing on the cap of the end of the pen in her hand, "but, uh...well, just don't push it. She's already being lenient enough with you guys as it is, so. If you need me to come in, be the big guns, just lemme know." Bea smirked at this and said, "Yeah, I'll let you know if you should come and flex your muscles." "The ladies can be quite persuasive," Leslie said, the both of them laughing now. *** "What was it like, you know, working with Bea before?" Michelle asked, her hands cupping her styrofoam coffee cup on the table by the window as Eliza sipped hers cautiously. "It was...neat," Eliza said, "She gave me my own space, and she...she told me that I could create whatever I wanted to, you know, in the downtime. She gave me a lot of creative freedom. No other job has ever done that, at least not, uh, to the same degree that she has." "She's pretty supportive, it's true," Michelle said. "How did you meet her?" "A friend and I tracked her down after some research and...and once I showed her how I'd rebuilt the set from the show in my basement, she became so much more understanding of just what Beatrice Beagle represented to me. I think she understood that I saw in it the same thing she saw in it. I guess, the same thing a lot of you saw in it. You and Liam and Marvin and everyone." "I never spent much time with anyone besides Bea. Liam was always nice to me, but I...I've never really had a friend before, so thank you for inviting me out," Eliza said, looking into her cup, almost as if she were outright embarrassed of this admittance, adding, "...are you sick too?" "Yeah, I have breathing issues," Michelle said, trying not to get too into depth about her illness, "I sometimes have to have oxygen tanks to help me get through the day. Are you sick? You seem perfectly fine to me." This made Eliza giggle uncontrollably as she looked away. Michelle cocked her head to the side, confused. "What?" she asked. "That's just...the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me," Eliza said, which only made Michelle feel all the worse for her. *** It was early when the phone rang. Michelle rolled over, still half asleep, and clutched at the phone beside her bed, pulling it off the base and pushing it to her face. She half mumbled something relatively intelligible, only for the next thing she heard to wake her up almost completely. She sat up in bed and pushed her hair out of her face, staring dead eyed at the wall. "Repeat that please," she said sternly, so Bea did, her voice shaky like she'd been crying. "They're dead," she said, "they're both dead. I need you to come to my apartment now." Michelle didn't have to be asked twice. Upon arriving at the door, Beatrice let her in quick as possible. Her eyes were red, like she'd been crying for hours, and she had a kettle of tea on the stove, whistling, which Michelle immediately raced to recover. As she lifted it from the stove and onto the counter, she looked back at Bea, who huddled back onto the couch, wrapping a blanket around her. "Who's dead?" Michelle asked. "...the girl...the girl from yesterday...and the guy who...the lighting guy," Bea managed to whisper, her voice hoarse, as if she'd been wailing all night, "...they killed themselves." "What happened?" Michelle asked, walking over to the couch and sitting on it fully, putting a hand on Bea's back, massaging it. "They...they met in the...in the first aid of the studio, and they talked about the situation, and she was extremely rattled from almost having died, and he was extremely rattled from almost having killed her, and they...they spent the whole night just...crushing up pills and snorting them in her apartment. I feel sick. This is all my fault. I sent him to speak to her. Maybe if I hadn't done that, they...they wouldn't have-" "No, no Beatrice, this is not your fault, okay? This is just a freak occurrence, alright? Please listen to me," Michelle said, "I...you didn't do this, you didn't do anything wrong, okay?" "I try and cultivate a workplace where people look out for one another, and have eachothers backs and-" "And you know what, they did. She might've done that alone, or he might've done it alone, but instead they did it together. I think, if anything, it was inevitable and all you're really responsible for is giving them each someone else to do it with," Michelle said, uncertain of what she said even as she was saying it, "And I realize that's pretty fucking bleak, but...like...that's...I've been there. I've been on the verge of not being here. Being as sick as I was when I was so young...it changes you. I think I understand how she might've felt. She was probably never going to come back from this." Bea looked at Michelle and bit her lip, trying not to cry anymore. "...the show's on hold for a week. The funeral's in two days if you want to come," Bea said, "...but if you want to get away from this, away from me, I'd understand and-" "I never wanna get away from you," Michelle said softly, "You're the best friend I've ever had. I'll be there. We all will." And then she held her. She held Beatrice for what felt like hours. She got her some tea, and she held her until she fell asleep. Beatrice had always been there for her, and now it was time for Michelle to be there for Beatrice. It only felt fair. *** Standing in the cemetery, after the funeral was over and everyone was headed to a nearby restaurant to calm down from it all, Michelle couldn't help but feel glued to the gravesite. Standing there in the sunlight, bright and warm, she felt so confused about everything. How quickly this whole thing had turned on its head had thrown her, and everyone else, for a loop. She heard the sound of grass beneath shoes coming up behind her, and soon saw Eliza standing beside her, dressed in a black turtleneck and black slacks, clearly the most formal thing she owned for such an occasion. "...this is fucked up," Michelle said. "I think the worst part is the sun," Eliza said, looking upwards to the sky. "Huh? What do you mean?" Michelle asked. "...like...you know how in movies and stuff, funerals always take place during rainy gloomy days. But that's just atmospheric, ya know? And...and that's not real. Funerals happen on sunny days too. They happen on days when...when kindergarten is in session and people get engaged. But it just seems so kind of sick to see the sun on such a sad day. But the universe doesn't care about us. About our sadness. You know? Like...like, uh...like it only matters to us, you know what I mean? We're the only ones who recognize its self imposed importance." Michelle was surprised. Eliza was fairly eloquent for someone she had been told was somewhat challenged intellectually. "...I don't know. Maybe. All I know is that I feel so screwed up now," Michelle said, "and Bea is even worse. She feels responsible, despite how many times I reiterate to her that none of this was her fault at all. I just hope-" "Let's be friends, okay?" Eliza said bluntly, "I...I don't wanna be alone. She didn't wanna be alone. He didn't wanna be alone. You don't wanna be alone, do you?" "No, I don't," Michelle said, shaking her head, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "Bea said she cultivates a workplace of togetherness, where people watch out for one another, so let's be friends, and watch out for one another, okay?" Eliza asked, making Michelle nod again, smiling a little now. "...should we go to the wake?" Michelle asked, and Eliza shrugged. "I don't usually eat in front of others. I don't like groups. That's why I stood so far away during the procession," Eliza said, "...do you wanna come back to The Hole with me? I could show you puppets." "That sounds cool, yeah," Michelle said. Together, the women walked to Michelle's car and got in; Eliza later explained how she'd gotten a ride here since she didn't drive, and Michelle was more than happy to give her a ride home. Michelle was happy to have a new friend, especially one who seemed so insistent to be her friend no matter what. Beatrice could tell herself whatever she wanted, but the two women knew the truth. Beatrice was right. She did in fact cultivate a place that fostered togetherness, and bad things even happened in the brightest of places. Nowhere was safe from the pain, no matter how happy it all seemed. *** Liam sat in his armchair of his apartment, looking at the framed photo of himself and Marvin at a restaurant on his birthday. He smiled as he ate a lemon square he'd baked himself that afternoon, instead of going to the funeral. Nobody could blame him, honestly. Liam had had enough death to last him a lifetime. "So how was your day?" he asked the photo, almost as if he expected an answer; he took a bite of the lemon square and nodded, saying, "Yeah, it was pretty shit, wasn't it?" Because Liam understood the one fundamental rule behind life... ...the one thing that even Michelle had understood, that had kept Bea alive in her heart lo those many years... ...you're never gone so long as someone remembers you.
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Beatrice Beagle follows a young woman obsessed with a defunct pizzeria and kids show featuring a dog mascot. As she uncovers more about its mysterious past, she becomes sucked into the life of the woman who played the mascot, they both discover just how much they need eachother. Archives
April 2024
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