Eliza Tartt was standing over her mothers headstone, looking down at the name, feeling like she was going to be sick. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and she noticed her father shuffling up beside her. Don sighed as he pulled his daughter a little closer and looked at the headstone with her.
"It was a nice service, wasn't it?" he asked. "Mhm." "You did a good job," Don said quietly, "She'd be proud of you. She always was." Eliza appreciated the kind words her father was giving her, but she didn't really believe it. She only knew deep down two things for certain. The first was that she was an expert puppet maker, and the second...was that she'd killed her mother. Oh sure, it was an accident, but they'd been involved in it because of her, and that was something nobody could ever convince her otherwise of. *** "Well, here's to wrapping everything up," Leslie said, clinking her glass together with Bea, clinking it with Liam as well before taking a swig from it, adding as she licked her lips, "You know guys, I'm really grateful you asked me to come on board." "I'm glad you agreed to," Bea said. "I just saw the fire in your eyes, and I could tell you really were dedicated to it again," Leslie said, "So here's to hoping everyone else sees that same dedication when it starts to air. Any plans beyond this celebratory post filming night of debauchery?" "I'm gonna go to Disneyland," Liam said, making them laugh; he chuckled at his own joke then said, "actually, I think I am gonna go out of town for a while. I haven't had a vacation in years, and I could certainly use one, especially after everything that's happened. Last vacation I took was when Marvin and I..." He paused and looked at his drink, almost as if he were debating whether or not to say this out loud. "...was when we went to Canada, and saw Niagra Falls on our way up," he continued, "we went on the Maid of the Mist boat ride, went underneath the falls. That was pretty spectacular, and I always wanted to go back, but...few weeks later he was dead, so." "You should take that vacation," Bea said, patting his hand and smiling warmly. "I actually already bought tickets," Liam said, "I should probably get home early tonight so I can finish packing and get some sleep before heading out tomorrow." "I'll probably just hermit myself for a while," Bea said, "I never get alone time during shooting, so I kind of need it after the shoot's over. Need time to recharge, you know?" "I understand. As a hermit myself, I completely get why it's necessary," Leslie said. "Well then, here's to the Beagle, she rides again," Liam said, the three of them clinking their glasses once again before all drinking once more. *** Eliza heard the door to The Hole open and turned in her chair to see Michelle coming in. "Oh," Eliza said, setting her puppet down on the work table, "...hi." "Bea asked me to come out with her and Liam, but I'm running kind of late. You wanna go? I'm finally leaving now." "Where's...you know, your friends?" Eliza asked. "Keagan? She and Lexi had things to do. But I meant to ask you all day and I just kept getting sidetracked," Michelle said, pulling her inhaler from her pocket and huffing on it before stuffing it quickly back in her pocket, "but if you don't wanna go-" "No, I'll go!" Eliza said, quickly getting up from her chair and grabbing her coat, pulling it on and joining Michelle as they exited The Hole and walked down the hallway towards the parking lot; Eliza continued, "I'm surprised Bea didn't, uh, I guess come say something. She usually tells me." "She was busy today," Michelle said, "Final editing and everything, so. I only learned about it when Liam mentioned it and then she brought it up to me when she saw me around lunchtime. Usually she tells me that kind of stuff too, but, like I said...busy." "...thanks for asking," Eliza said, wiping her nose on her sleeve, "I don't...I'm not used to people asking me to go with them anywhere." Michelle smiled and patted her back, "We're friends! That's what friends do!" Eliza smiled. She liked that. She liked having friends. *** Leslie brought the table a few club sodas, taking a break from the champagne, setting the glasses down on the table. Bea quickly pulled hers towards herself and sipped it through the straw. Liam had left a short while before this, so it was just the women now. Bea exhaled deeply as she sat back in her seat and looked across the table at Leslie, who was also sipping her drink. "It's kind of remarkable when you think about it," Bea said. "What is?" Leslie asked, wiping her mouth on her napkin. "Just...everything that's happened, really. Michelle and Keagan finding me, discovering how much the show actually meant to some people, getting a new deal for a new batch of episodes, just...everything, you know? It feels surreal. Having people be respectful of my work instead of simply using it to shill their product. That one especially surprises me." "Showbusiness is a fickle bitch and it doesn't care who it hurts," Leslie said, "And people think streaming services are the saviors, and they might be for a short time. Willing to take on the things a normal broadcast network wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole because it doesn't have an automatic built in audience, but...that's changing, and quickly. They're becoming a less restrictive yet more brutal version of cable, honestly. Sure, they'll take your project on, but if it isn't immediately globally successful, then nuts to you." "You sound bitter," Bea said, smirking, "I like it. It's a good look for you." Leslie threw her head back, laughing loudly, "God! Thanks! I'm not bitter, I'm just...it hurts. As someone who works in the industry, grew up on the industry, it saddens me to see it become what it is. I was at an industry party once and I was talking to someone whose show had gotten canceled after just one season on a streaming network, and they were saying how much the network promoted it, and how much of a budget they gave them and how little notes they had to deal with, and then a week after it drops they were canned because nobody 'binged' it. Streaming networks don't seem to realize that people have lives, responsibilities, and we can't just sit glued for hours to our couches watching the same thing, besides, it simply isn't enjoyable that way. Everything is so easily digestible and just as easily disposable because of it. Anyway, after she told me that, she said 'nobody makes a show now, they make content', and that always stuck with me." "She's not wrong," Beatrice said. "I guess that's why I have remarkable respect for you, because you genuinely appreciate what it is you're doing, and the impact it can really have on others," Leslie said, "and that...there's just something so...refreshing about that, I guess." "It's getting loud in here, let's go for a walk," Bea said, standing up and pulling her jacket on. Leslie did the same, and the two headed out of the bar and grill, onto the sidewalk outside. Fairly empty, a cool night just before summer, and the streetlamps glowed softly overhead. "I was scared," Beatrice said, "I really was, to come back. I was afraid that, you know, I'd just get taken advantage of again, and that nobody would respect me or what I was trying to do." "I think you found a good place to be," Leslie said, "After talking with Steph for a bit, she seems to be more level headed than most streaming network bosses, and bringing me on board definitely helps, since I work with public broadcasting. The two of us can really get into the nitty gritty of it without involving you, which I think is good for your mental health." "...I came up with Beatrice in college," Bea said softly, "it was just a way for me to cope with things, and eventually I started putting on one man shows downtown, and that's where I met Liam. He believed in what I was doing, but Liam also allowed himself to get starstruck and carried away with the faux glitter that is Hollywood. That's why he sold us out, much as I might've begged him not to. I understand why, and...and I do forgive him now, but for so long it made me so wary of trusting anyone who told me they believed in me or my work." "Did you not believe Michelle?" "At first, I think I was...cautious, yeah. I just thought she was another over enthusiastic fan and that...ya know...once she met me perhaps that interest would wane, but when she showed me the set in her basement, that really changed everything. That's when, I think, I really started to understand the profound impact something can have on someone else, even twenty years after the fact." Leslie chewed on her lip and nodded, thinking. Beatrice reached down and slipped her hand into Leslie's, surprising her. She squeezed gently, but didn't look at her, and didn't say anything. Leslie smiled. Together, the two of them continued down the street, together, yet alone. *** "I guess we missed them," Michelle said as she and Eliza took a seat in a booth near the back. They both pulled off their coats, and Michelle started eating from the complimentary bowl of chips on the table as Eliza let her hair down. "I never go to places like this," Eliza said. "I usually don't either, and I wouldn't have if I didn't think she was still going to be here," Michelle said, "...so how did you wind up knowing Bea?" "She hired me for the original show. She had a little get together with college kids who knew how to sew and make puppets, and I was the one she picked. She was always very kind to me. She paid for my medical bills after I was in a car accident and lost my mom." "I'm so sorry," Michelle said, "I didn't know. Sounds like something Bea would do though. She's rarely interested in her own happiness, and far more invested in making sure others are happy, even if it means making it happen herself." "You're not wrong, she, uh, she should probably should focus on her own happiness now and then," Eliza said, "I mean, I know that she loves the show, and that that makes her happy, but still, she should have something to focus on when the show isn't in production. It's like me with my puppets. I love them, but at home I work on model trains." "I don't...I don't think I really have anything outside of the show either," Michelle said, "I should probably get a hobby." "You could come see my trains!" Eliza said excitedly, immediately feeling weird for being so joyous about it, adding, "I...I mean, you know...if you want to." "That would be cool, yeah," Michelle said, smiling. After they spent a little time, having a few appetizers, the two pulled their jackets back on and piled back into Michelle's car, heading to Eliza's. When they arrived, all the lights were off, meaning Don wasn't home, so Eliza didn't feel self conscious about bringing someone home. She shut the door once they had gotten inside, and told Michelle she could hang her jacket on the coat hanger by the door, which she did. Eliza asked if she'd want something to drink, and Michelle said sure, making Eliza rush out to the kitchen. While she waited, Michelle strolled down the hall, looking at the photos of Eliza as a child, and with her parents. She smiled at these when she heard Eliza reenter the room, handing Michelle a juice box, which Michelle gladly took. "Sorry, it's all I have," Eliza said softly, almost as if she were embarrassed. "It's perfectly fine," Michelle said, chuckling, "Was this your mom?" "Yeah..." Eliza said, "...I miss her." "I have a mom but we don't get along, so a lot of times it feels like I don't," Michelle said. "I feel like I killed my mom," Eliza said quietly, "I know it isn't actually my fault, I'm not stupid, but...I can't help but feel responsible for it. If she hadn't been driving me, if I'd learned to drive myself...I don't know. Everything just...feels like it was because of me." "Oh, don't say that," Michelle said, turning to face Eliza, "You couldn't have known, nor would you have meant for it to. Terrible things happen every single day to perfectly decent people. My family is a great example. My mother wanted to live vicariously through me, was mad when she couldn't, then decided to continue being an artist instead of a mother, or both. My father, well, the less said there the better. But I'm not the cause of my familys rifts, and I'm certainly not the cause of my health problems. These things happen." Eliza nodded and began to head up the stairs, Michelle in tow. As they entered her bedroom, Michelle was awestruck by the amounts of puppets and miniature model towns covered with model trains filling the room. She grinned wide as she could, almost feeling intensely jealous. "This is so cool," she said quietly. "This one's my favorite," Eliza said, pointing at a very small table with an entire model town built on it, "because, well, it just is. I like the colors. It looks like a good place to live." "You know, I built a set in my basement," Michelle said, "and after a while I realized I was living more in a fantasy world than reality, but really, where's the harm in that if it's making me happy and it isn't damaging anyone else? I think that's what Beatrice sees more than anything, is the ability to reconnect with the real through the unreal. Children live in fantasy worlds, and the best adults don't ever fully grow up." Eliza smiled. She knew she could trust Michelle. "They call me the Puppet Master," Eliza said, "and I like to think it's, uh, just because I'm, well, ya know, good with puppets. But truth is, I'm also pretty good with people, when I wanna be. I know exactly how to manipulate them to get them to do whatever I want, or get them to do the things they wanna do but are too afraid to." "...like what?" "Like be alone with someone they might otherwise not have been alone with," Eliza said, "That's why I told Bea not to wait for us." "...what?" "I knew she and Leslie needed some time together," Eliza said, "I hope you're not mad at me. Sorry you got roped into it, I just...I knew they needed time to talk." "I'm not mad, no, I'm impressed if anything," Michelle said, chuckling, "you really do know how to pull strings." *** Walking up the steps to Leslie's house, Bea pointed at the porch light and Leslie sighed as she dug her keys out of her purse. "I knooow, it's been doing that for months," she said, "I keep reminding myself to fix it, and I just never do. One of these days, when I'm not swamped in work." "I could fix it for you," Bea said, "It would take all of 5 minutes." "That's very appreciative, thank you," Leslie said, "You really are a jack of all trades aren't you?" Leslie, now holding her keys in her hand, turned back to Bea and looked at her. In this soft glow of this flickering porch lamp, she looked...different. Warmer. Almost comforting. Leslie smiled and jangled her keys as she tossed her hair back a little. "Thanks for letting me join you tonight, and in general," Leslie said, "It's nice to be a part of something I can feel proud of, not that I'm not proud of my work or whatever, but you know what I mean." "...can I ask you a question?" Bea asked, and Leslie nodded. "Sure," she replied. "...you ever get the feeling that, in some way, you're lost? Like, you have your life, your friends, your job, but something still doesn't feel right? I thought finding people like Michelle would help, and it has, she's my best friend besides Liam, and I thought getting the show back would help, and it has, and I can't wait to see it start airing now that the editing is all done, but...it still feels like there's a hole inside you that you can't fill with anything? It was full, once, when I had a dog. It's never really been full since then though." "I think I know what you mean," Leslie said, "I...I keep going on dates and it never works, and I keep wanting to push new projects but they don't get funding, and I just feel oddly stagnant despite my life going well. It's like nobody really understands me, even though I'm surrounded by people who theoretically do. And then, at night, I lie in bed and I think about my life and my career and my goals, and I realize that even if I got everything I ever wanted, even if I somehow found a way to achieve everything I sought out to do...I'm still alone, and there's nobody there to tell me victories to. Nobody to hold me when it gets bad." "Exactly," Bea said, stepping up one stair, getting closer, "and sometimes you're scared, right? You're scared of trying because you think that, no, that can't be who I am, I can't be this way, especially when I work in a public field like entertainment where I'm constantly viewed and recognized and held up as an example. But don't we all deserve that? No matter what career we wind up in, we all deserve to have that person we come to, that we tell our secrets and fears and successes to. That person who just...maybe they don't understand, fully, but they try, and more than that, they're there." Leslie dropped her keys back into her purse and let her purse slide off her arm and onto the porch. "I don't know if I can do it," Leslie whispered, almost as if she was going to cry, but Bea gently wiped her tears from her face with her hand and smiled back at her. "It's okay, nobody knows if they can," Bea said, "but that dog I had, she taught me the one thing that dogs all know, which is to leap brazenly into the unknown. Chase cars that you may never catch, because it's better than being too afraid to try." Leslie nodded and looked at her shoes, crying. "...you want to come in?" "I'd love to come in." Leslie picked up her purse again, finding her keys and opening the door, letting Bea walk past her. As she shut the door, she thought about what she was doing, and she realized she didn't care suddenly what anyone else might think. Afterwards, when she and Beatrice were lying in bed, Bea spooning her close, her face shoved against her shoulderblade, Leslie realized she was right about what dogs do. They chase the unattainable, they enjoy the simple pleasures, and, above all else, they comfort you when you least expect it. It'd been a while since Leslie had had a dog in her bed. She'd forgotten just how much she'd missed it.
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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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