Liam Grearson was sitting at a table by the window, sipping his coffee, bundled up against the oncoming storm when he heard the bell over the door ring. He glanced in that direction and spotted a young black woman enter, a scarf dangling around her neck, a backpack on her shoulders. She seemed to scan the cafe momentarily until her eyes met Liam's, and he nodded. She smiled and began approaching his table, seating herself.
"It's freezing out there," Keagan said, "It's the middle of March but it's still like it's winter." "Winters are getting longer and colder everywhere," Liam said, taking another sip of his coffee, letting the flavor rest on his tongue, savoring it, before he opened his eyes again and noticed Keagan had pulled out a tape recorder. "You don't...mind, do you?" she asked, motioning to the device, "I'd like to put it up on the site." "...no, not at all, it's fine," Liam said, "So what exactly do you want me to say?" "I have no idea, honestly," Keagan said, "Anything, really, would be appreciated. I'd love to hear some stuff about the production, your relationship to Marvin - I mean, if you're, you know, comfortable going into all that - or even, like...Beatrice herself? Because nobody knows anything about her." "Believe me," Liam said, leaning back in his chair, "That's exactly how she wants it." This caught Keagan's attention, and she settled in, prepared to hear a story. "So," Liam continued, "I guess I should tell you about how I met Beatrice." *** Liam Grearson was 19 years old, and attempting to live his dream of acting. He'd loved the theatre ever since he'd been a little boy, and the only thing he'd ever really wanted was to perform for people. He didn't care what the material was (so long as it wasn't absolute trash) and he wasn't picky, he merely did anything he could get his hands on, but lately things hadn't been going so well. Offers had all dried up, going to people much more handsome than he was, theatre boys willing to do the things that Liam wasn't willing to do in order to land the parts he so desired. So he began searching for work elsewhere, only to find it in the most unexpected place. "You have to see this to believe it," his roommate at the time, a young woman named Hazel, told him, "It's this totally surreal thing, it's unlike anything you've seen on stage, I guarantee it." "I still don't really understand what it is," Liam said as she dragged him up the street in the frigid fall weather to the small unknown theatre. "I've been back like eight times already, just trust me," Hazel said, and Liam did. They seated themselves, a small but thoroughly packed crowd surrounding them, and only after a bit did the lights finally dim and the curtain rose. A dog house was sitting on the stage, and next to it, in a full body dog suit, like a theme park mascot, was a adult sized Beagle. Instantly, Liam was hooked. Quiet music, not somber but uplifting, played in the background (clearly something that was on a loop on a CD player nearby, not being performed live), and Beatrice turned to face the crowd. "We only live so long," she said, "And yet we feel so much more than you do. We know so much more than you do. We experience life on a grander more intense scale in a shorter amount of time. When you collapse seven years into one year, it's guaranteed to assume that life speeds up. Everything comes faster, everything feels stronger, and everything's over quicker." Beatrice leaned against the doghouse and looked down at her bowl. She sighed and folded her arms. "And then, we're replaced. You don't replace other members of your family. You don't get new grandparents when the old ones die. And while so many might claim that dogs aren't replaceable, that all you're doing is bringing another new friend home, we know that's bullshit. You miss the companionship, not the dog. You replace us for selfish reasons, not out of grief. We know this, and yet...we love you still the same. With the same ferocity that we always would've, because we're forgiving, loyal and understanding creatures." Liam's jaw had dropped. Hazel wasn't wrong, this was unlike anything he'd ever seen before on the stage, and he was so thankful he had allowed her to drag him down here. After the show ended, Liam waited as Hazel went to the coffee house a few blocks down to wait for him. Liam wanted to meet the woman who had created this character, this magnificently deep and human like dog. When she finally exited out the back, she was surprised to find him waiting there. He almost didn't recognize her, until he noticed the dog head under her arm. "Hey," Liam said, "I'm...I wanted to congratulate you." "...oh," she replied, her voice low, her eyes flighty. She had light skin and strawberry blonde hair, not exactly curly but bouncy; her face was adorned with freckles, and her eyes were home to the longest pair of natural lashes Liam had ever seen. She was so very the opposite of what he expected. He expected theatre girls, especially weird ones, to be quirky and boisterous, loud and obnoxious, but Beatrice...she was intensely reserved. "Well, thank...thank you," she said, shaking his hand, "um...thank you for coming, I'm glad you enjoyed it." "You just...you speak so eloquently, and with such depth, it was really something else," Liam said, walking alongside her now down the street, presumably to her car. "I'm always surprised to find people on the other side of the curtain every time it parts. I always expect it to be empty, even after the sold out shows for the last few weeks," Bea said, "Can you hold this?" She handed the head off to Liam, who looked at it. It was so expertly crafted, so intricately detailed. He was surprised, he'd never seen anything like this this well done before. He watched as she opened up a junky old beaten up car and began loading her things into the trunk. After a bit she turned and he gave the head back to her. "Um, listen, would you like to meet sometime again, and, I don't know, discuss ideas for projects?" he asked. "You're not an agent are you?" she asked, sounding cautious. "Hah! No, thank god no. No, I'm just another theatre dork, looking to do what you're doing, honestly," Liam said, and this made her smile. She agreed to meet him again, and they exchanged phone numbers. Liam was so excited for whatever the future might hold that night that he barely slept, and he'd barely sleep for the rest of the time he knew her. *** "The thing about Beatrice that you need to understand," Liam said, now leaning forward and cupping his mug tightly with his hands, "is that she doesn't...god, how do I put this...Beatrice isn't just a woman who created this thing that was bastardized. She really IS the Beagle. It's...it's not a character to her." "What does that mean?" Keagan asked, probing a bit further, licking her coffee off her lips. "Phew, um," Liam scratched his forehead with his pinky, "Beatrice was the most intense person I ever knew, which doesn't make sense because she was so quiet and collected. Intensity, when you think of it in a person as a trait, you think they're explosive and adventurous, but Beatrice wasn't like that. Everything was calculated to her. She didn't act on something without it being planned to perfection, beat by beat. That's what I admired most about her, was the fact that she...she was so dedicated to what she did. That's why I hate myself for meeting her, because...I ruined her life." "What?" Keagan asked, surprised by this admission, "How could you have-" "Because I'm the one who told her to take it wider," Liam said. *** The last day Liam Grearson saw Beatrice was a week after the show wrapped indefinitely. The set still hadn't been broken down, and Bea was sitting on the reinforced foam wall next to the doghouse. She was in full costume, and the lights were low in the studio. Liam opened the door, coming back to pick up a few things he'd left the night before when he had been here with a few cast members partying when he noticed Bea sitting by herself. He shoved his pockets into his coat pockets and walked across the room, plopping himself down on the wall beside her. "Everything's gonna be okay," Liam said. "Do you know what it's like to watch something you love die twice?" Beatrice asked, pulling the dog head off her own and looking into its eyes, her hair still up in a messy bun, her glasses sliding off her face, "...something you...you never wanted to lose in the first place, but now you've lost it twice?" "I'm not sure I understand," Liam said softly. "...nobody would," Bea said, "...why did this happen?" "The place went bankrupt, chains aren't bringing in money anymore, and so-" "No, not that. Why did I allow you to trick me into selling it all to hawk some food?" she asked, sounding angry, an emotion he rarely heard her display, "...you turned something personal into...into a mascot. She wasn't a mascot, she was Beatrice. You bastardized her for the money." "For you!" Liam said, "I did it for you! So you could go on and do something else! So you...you wouldn't be stuck doing this for years in the same dingy little unknown downtown theatre holes! You have so much talent, Bea! You just need to-" "I liked what I was doing!" Beatrice said, standing up, her eyes emptier than they'd ever been before, "I was happy doing what I was doing! Then you showed up and ruined all of it!" He didn't know how to react to that. Bea got out of the costume, now standing in just her leotard on the set, and slung the whole thing over her shoulder, the head under her arm as it had always been when not on her shoulders, and then she turned and walked out. Liam didn't follow her. He waited a bit, but she never came back. And they never spoke again. *** "She wouldn't take my calls," Liam said, "She wouldn't talk to me, no matter what I did, so I just...I gave her her space." "You loved her," Keagan said quietly. "In a way, like a child, yeah. Even though we were about the same age, she...she was so much younger than me in so many ways. She has the brain of a six year old, she never grew up, really, and she's able to connect to children. I betrayed what she held most dear, and the only right thing to do was let her go. She was my best friend for a long time, but she wasn't wrong, I'd sold the whole thing under so we could hopefully make something more out of our lives afterwards, but that's the thing about Beatrice that I never once considered...she never needed more. She was fine playing that dog for as long as she lived." "Jeez," Keagan said, her tape stopping. She took it out of the recorder and flipped it over, sliding it back in and starting again, "So...where is she now?" "Far as I know, she could be anywhere. But, and I hesitate to show you this but I feel like I should, she did send me this after Marvin died," Liam said, pulling his cell phone from his pocket and, opening up his e-mail, pulled up an unlisted Youtube video. It was only a mere 45 seconds long, but it loaded instantly. It was her, Beatrice, in the suit, sitting in what looked like a childs room. "Hello Liam," she said, "I know we haven't spoken in ages, and this likely isn't the most direct method of communication, but it's what I feel most comfortable with. I want you to know I am thinking of you in these hard times. Marvin was a good friend to all of us. I miss you, and I hope you are well. I hope you don't take this too hard." And with that, the video cut to black. Keagan was beside herself, she couldn't believe what she'd just seen. She handed the phone back to Liam and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "I know," Liam said, commenting on her reaction, "She has that effect on people." "I need you to help me find her," Keagan said. "I don't even know how," Liam said. "This woman needs to be spoken to," Keagan said, "She needs to understand the impact she had that she might be unaware of." "I'm not disagreeing, I just have no idea where she could be," Liam said. "Well," Keagan stated, "Everyone leaves a paper trail. We just need to find it." *** Keagan got home late that night, and then went to work. When she got off of work, she had only one thing on her mind. She stayed up late into the early morning, working on Liam's audio and cutting their conversation into something worthy listening to, but she didn't post it to the site like she'd claimed. Instead Keagan opened an e-mail and addressed it to Michelle, then added the audio as an attachment. She knew only one other person would truly appreciate what this was, and she was happy to have that person to share it with. When she woke up the following afternoon, she had a one sentence e-mail response from Michelle, which read: "This is so sad. I wish I knew what happened to her." Keagan responded back with a similarly simplistic message: "I'm working on it. Maybe we should meet."
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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
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