It had taken a few weeks to get the live show set up. Promotion, stage rental, hiring one time performers, etc. As for staging and props, they simply utilized the stuff from the show proper, so that saved a bit of time. In between preparation for all this, the shows current season wrapped up with introducing Keagan's puppet, Serena, and the reaction was overwhelmingly positive, which only lifted Keagan's spirits more and more. Soon she was inundated with fanmail for her performance as Serena, from young black girls who couldn't believe they saw themselves on their favorite show. Everything seemed to be going just great, all except for Beatrice.
The signs of her cracking first began to show at her mothers funeral. She invited Liam, Michelle, Eliza and Leslie, if only because she needed that support. But even then, each of them could see she wasn't handling the loss well at all. Hell, the drive for the live show was a direct result of her not handling it well, so it wasn't like it wasn't obvious. But they retained hope that she would come back, stronger than ever, just in time for the show. Unfortunately, as the premiere date drew ever closer, Beatrice seemed to become more and more reserved and unhinged. She would lock herself in her office at work, even away from Liam, and she would spend a good majority of her time at home sobbing in the bedroom. Leslie did her best to comfort her, but it only went so far. Now, with opening night only 24 hours away, nobody knew how she would be when the time to perform came, and quite frankly, it scared them all deeply. Finally, that night before the premiere as they all ate dinner at the pizzeria, Bea and Leslie not attending, Liam asked the hard question. "What do we do if she can't get her shit together?" And nobody seemed to have an answer. *** "She's always been a rock," Michelle said, sitting on Eliza's bed, reading a magazine while Eliza fiddled with one of her trains; Michelle continued, "like, for any one of us, she's always been there to pick us up, so how come none of us know how to do the same for her?" "She's an enigma," Eliza said, adjusting her jewlers loupe over one eye as she carefully adjusted a small piece on the trains wheel, "I never tried to make sense of her because there's no sense to be made, frankly. To be fair, none of us make any sense, but she especially doesn't." "I take offense to that, I like to think I make plenty of sense!" Michelle said, chuckling. "Believe whatever you want, doesn't make it the truth," Eliza replied, both of them laughing. "Well, subjectivity aside," Michelle continued, "I want to do something to help her, but I just don't know what I can do." "Speaking as someone who lost their mom suddenly," Eliza replied, turning around on her stool and pulling the loupe up from her eye, "she needs to process it, even if that's in ways we don't fully understand or agree with. Everyone deals with grief differently. I know when my mom died, I did the opposite of Bea. She throws herself into her work, I pulled away from mine. None of us reacts the way others do and often do we react the way others expect us to." Michelle was impressed with Eliza's statement, the depth of its analysis, realizing she was completely right. Michelle sighed and stood up, plopping the magazine face down onto the bed and walking over to Eliza's stool, where she knelt down and, taking her face between her hands, kissed her. "I need to move props," Michelle said, "We're all meeting at the pizzeria tonight, whether Bea's there or not, so I'll come by and pick you up once I've shifted everything to the stage." "Do you want help?" Eliza asked. "Casey's helping me," Michelle said, "You take some time off, work on your trains, just relax. You deserve it, especially after all the work you put in on Keagan's puppet." Eliza blushed and nodded as Michelle kissed her on the forehead. "Love you, I'll see you later tonight," Michelle said as she headed for the door. "I love you too"! Eliza called out after her, giggling to herself like a schoolgirl with a first crush as Michelle exited. Eliza then pulled her loupe back down and, as Michelle suggested, went back to her trains. She did, in fact, deserve a break. She'd worked harder than most this year it seemed. She'd given so much of her time this year to other peoples interests, it wouldn't kill her to dedicate a day to her own for a change. *** "You ever huff glue?" Casey asked, as she helped Michelle pull Bea's doghouse set onto the dolly and strap it in. "What?" Michelle asked, laughing in response. "When you're alone, doing set building, you ever huff glue?" Casey asked. "No, never," Michelle said, "first of all, before this year I never would've been able to. I've always had bad lungs. But even now, I would't put my new good lungs in direct danger. I waited so long to breath properly, the last thing I wanna do is do potential damage to them." "...we come from very different worlds, you and I," Casey said, shaking her head as they both laughed and wheeled the dolly down the truck ramp and into the parking lot of the performance building. Once it was stopped, Casey lit up a cigarette and took a long puff, before wiping the smoke away with her hand and adding, "sorry, hope it's fine to smoke around you at least." "Oh, I don't care," Michelle said, shrugging, "do you do that regularly, huff glue, I mean?" "Eh, not so much anymore, but as a teenager definitely," Casey replied, "when you grow up with parents like mine you look for any kind of out that'll result in dissociation of one kind or another." Michelle wanted to say something supportive, something to show Casey that, even though their differences were so vast, she could relate to her issues in regards to her mother. But she just couldn't come up with the right words for the statement, so instead she just nodded in solemn understanding. They pulled out a few more set pieces and large props, and by the time they got to having most of the truck emptied, a car pulled into the lot and parked. Liam climbed out, looking somewhat haggard. "You doing okay, buddy?" Michelle asked. "I've done better," Liam said, groaning as he supported himself on his cane and hobbled towards them, "is this everything?" "Yep," Michelle said, as Casey loaded the dolly back onto the truck; Michelle ran her hands through her hair and asked, "hey, uh...have you spoken to or seen Beatrice today?" "Can't say that I have," Liam replied, holding his hand out to take Casey's cigarette as she returned, which she graciously handed him; he took a long drag, then exhaled and handed it back before adding, "but if I do, you'll be the first to know, outside of me, of course. Why? Are you worried about something?" "I'm worried about her," Michelle said, "ever since her mom died, she hasn't seemed entirely...stable." "Well, her mother did die, that changes a person," Liam said. "I know that, I'm just concerned because she's supposed to perform in a live show and interact with children and she can barely manage interacting with her own friends at the moment," Michelle said. She looked between Liam and Casey, then added, "am I the only one worried about her?" "Not at all," Liam said, "but...she's gotta do what she's gotta do. We just need to let her." With that, Liam and Casey started moving the props and sets into the building, while Michelle stood there, shaking her head. She couldn't believe that Liam, of all people, would be so non chalant about Beatrice's rapidly desolving mental health when he'd long since been her biggest supporter. Then again, he did know her the best. He was her oldest friend. Maybe he knew what he was talking about. After driving the truck back to the networks studio lot, Michelle decided she'd grab Eliza and head to the pizzeria earlier than expected, if only because she could use something to eat and normal socialization that didn't revolve around Beatrice, even if only momentarily. As Michelle and Eliza entered the pizzeria, Eliza quickly abandoned Michelle and headed for the little prize shop. Michelle, hands in her coat pockets, headed through the bright, flashing, loud games and came upon, of all people, Lex, at the skeeball. Michelle stopped and watched as Lex nailed each and every single ball. Once she was done, she pulled her tickets from the machine and winked at Michelle. "I have to admit," Michelle said, "I'm impressed." "Well, when I was little, before my dad went to prison, we used to go to this little carnival every weekend that was just outside of town and we'd always have skeeball tournaments. Guess you could say I got pretty good at it," Lex said, counting up her tickets. "Is Keagan here?" Michelle asked. "Yeah, she's over at the light gun area," Lex said, nodding in that direction, as she headed to the prize shop to join Eliza. Michelle nodded, then headed in the direction of Keagan. She found her, holding two lightguns, one in each hand, and playing some kind of alien shooter. As Michelle approached, Keagan smiled, put in more quarters for both players and handed Michelle one of the guns, which she gladly took. "You better be careful, holding a light gun while black," Michelle said. "God, I know right?" Keagan replied, "you get everything moved?" "Yep. How's answering all that fan mail going?" "Exhausting, my hand's cramping like a bitch," Keagan said, "but it's nice to get so many kind replies." "Are you seriously answering each and every one?" "Yep." "Damn, that's dedication," Michelle said. As they lost the game, they set the lightguns back in their plastic holsters and turned away from the machine. Keagan pulled her hair back into a ponytail and sighed, hands on her hips as she and Michelle looked around the pizzeria. Each wanted to ask the question, but neither seemed to want to be the one to broach the topic. Finally Keagan bit her lip, and the bullet. "Where is she?" she asked. "Beats me," Michelle said, "Even Liam said he hadn't seen her, which is...worriesome." Truth was, Beatrice had no interest in attending the gathering at the pizzeria. She was too busy hyperventilating at home, while Leslie yet again unsuccessfully attempted to bring her down. It wasn't so much the show that made her nervous, she was nothing if not a season performer at this point. It was more that she was upset that this was the first thing she was really doing without her mother being in the world. Something new, and something different, and even if her mother wasn't there to see it, she should've been around, existing at the same time as the production. After Beatrice finally fell asleep from exhaustion, Leslie sat in the living room, trying to get her wits about her. Tomorrow was going to be rough. She looked over at the Beatrice costume sitting neatly assembled in a chair, the head atop the rest of the costume, and she shook her head. She was starting to see Beatrice as anything other than a way to avoid her issues, and was starting to wonder if even Bea herself could discern the difference between the character and herself. Was it even worth it too? Was it even worth it to be Amelia Burden? Leslie leaned back agains the couch and covered her face with her hands. She thought maybe this live show would just meld the two together even further, and if Beatrice continued to use Bea as an escape, as a means to avoid her problems with the world, what would she be then? Where did Beatrice Beagle end and Beatrice the person begin? This live show worried her, but not for the reasons it worried the others. *** The place was absolutely packed to the gills. The show had sold out, and the stage was set, prepared for the show. The only thing missing was Beatrice, who was hiding out in the trailer in the parking lot, refusing the come out. Liam and Michelle were pacing back and forth backstage, while Eliza sat on a stool and made a lanyard, something she did to ease her anxiety at times such as these. They could hear the murmurings of the kids and their parents in the audience, and Liam knew people would start getting restless soon. Casey joined them, an open beer in her hand, as Liam stopped and looked at her. "You can't have an open container of alcohol in here, there's children," he said. "What, and being in the proximity of it will make them alcoholics? Get real," Casey said, taking a long sip before looking around and asking, "Wait, where's Bea?" "She won't come out of the trailer," Michelle said, shaking her head, unsure of how to approach the situation further, "...maybe we just cancel, refund, offer a public apology?" "We've put too much time and effort into putting this goddamn thing together for her to just decide she doesn't want to do her one part of the job," Liam said. "Her one part IS the job, dude," Casey said, "where's her trailer?" Michelle told her, and Casey turned and headed out of the building. As she hit the parking lot, she spotted it. Turned out she didn't even need directions, as the damn thing was impossible to miss. Casey walked up to the trailer and knocked on the door, but to no avail. Casey then reached into her hair, pulled out a hairpin and unfurled it, picking the lock and letting herself in. Inside, she found Beatrice sitting on the couch, in costume, the dog head in her lap. Casey stopped in her tracks and stared at the sight. "Not gonna lie, that's kind of a disconcerting sight," she said, "are you okay?" "Why would I be?" Bea asked, and Casey approached the couch, dropping to her knees and looking up at Bea. "...look, I probably am the last person to offer advice, especially on missing a parent who actually loved you," Casey said, "but...but you're a parent to most of those kids in there, whether you know it or not. You have a responsibility, not even to the studio but to those kids, to give them what they came here for. YOU. They came here for YOU. There are kids in there who only have one parent, or maybe they have no parents and they live with grandparents or aunts or uncles or whatever, and you're the only guiding light they have in their life. Do you wanna let them down the way all the other adults in their lives have?" Beatrice looked at Casey, then down at the head in her lap and sighed, shaking her head slowly. "Then get that fuckin head on and get in there and put on that show," Casey said, "You gave me a chance, you gave Michelle a chance, you gave everyone here a chance. We've all been through the shit, so it's time for you to get through the shit too. You think your mom would want you to sit in here and cry? Fuck no, dude. She'd want you to go in there and put on the show she knows you're capable of putting on. Do it for your mom, if you can't do it for the children." Beatrice looked at Casey again, sighing more. "It's more that..." Bea started, "doing this marks an era of my life without her." "Dude, she's dead regardless of what you do," Casey said, "If you do the show or not, your mom is still dead. This doesn't change that. You might as well keep doing what keeps yourself, and others, happy, right?" Beatrice hadn't thought it like that, she had to admit. No matter what she did, mope or perform, her mother was dead, and nothing was going to change that. Beatrice picked the head up from her lap and put it on, completing the costume. She stood up, as did Casey, and then hug her tightly, thanking her. Casey just hugged her back, best she could in that bulky costume, and told her it wasn't a problem at all. "Everyone was worried and wanted to help," Casey said, "just...nobody knew how." "How did you?" Bea asked. "Guess being so disconnected from the world helps you see it clearer," Casey said, shrugging, "I'm not gonna feed you some sugar coated bullshit about how your mom is in some great place now, because really, that's insulting. Oh, the place she went to after death is better? How? Her child isn't in it. Her husband isn't it it. Doesn't sound too great to me, frankly. Now, be a good dog, and go do your tricks." Beatrice laughed, nodded, and headed out of the trailer. Casey stood there in the doorway, finishing her beer, and smirked to herself. Of all the people to come to the rescue, they all had to admit, Casey was last on their list. Turns out everyone is good at something. *** 3 WEEKS LATER "I'm going," Michelle said, knocking on Bea's office door. Beatrice looked up from her desk and smiled, gesturing for her to come inside, which she did. As Michelle took a seat on the opposite side of the desk, she asked, "everything okay?" "More than okay," Bea said, "I mean, I'm still very sad, but I'm dealing with it. Anyway, that isn't why I wanted you to come in. I just wanted you to know that next season, production is gonna be a bit different. We're gonna hire more people, so we don't have to solely rely on you, Eliza and Casey for almost everything. You all deserve a bit of a break." "I'm fine with that," Michelle said, "anything else?" "You doing anything tonight?" Bea asked. "Eliza and I are going to dinner," Michelle said, "then we'll probably go to her dads and build some trains together. Nothing too exciting, but it's good, cause we don't really need excitement. I'll see you when I see you, Bea. Have a good weekend." With that, Michelle stood up and exited, leaving Michelle there alone. Liam was the last one to leave, and soon enough it was just Beatrice alone at the studio. She told Leslie she'd be home before 9pm, and here it was, almost 9. She figured she should call and let her know she'd be a tiny bit late. Beatrice picked up her cell phone, but it was dead. She sighed. Beatrice picked up her landline and dialed, getting the machine, so she left a message. She had told Stephanie that she'd help get these budgetary balances figured out before the weekend, and she was almost done, but her stomach was hurting. She could use a snack. Beatrice stood up, pulled her jacket on and headed out of the studio. Just outside was a small cart that was open late, so she ordered some nachos and a drink, then sat down at one of the tables on the patio where employees usually had lunch and munched on her treats. After a minute she heard the sound of a bike approaching the table, and turned to see a young girl, probably about 11, pulling her helmet off. "Hello," Bea said, "can I help you?" "H...hi," the girl said, "can I sit down?" "Of course," Bea said, patting the seat beside her. The girl set her bike against the table, placed her helmet on it and sat down. Bea pushed her thing of nachos towards her, but the girl declined. Bea shrugged and asked, "are you lost? Do you need help?" "I wanted to go to your show, but we couldn't afford it," the girl said, "so I...I looked up where you worked and thought I'd ride over here. I didn't actually think I'd find you." "Well, you did," Bea said, smiling warmly, "do you want anything? An autograph, a selfie?" The girl looked embarrassed, and glanced away. After a moment, she spoke again. "I don't wanna grow up, can you make that happen?" she asked, taking Bea by surprise; she elaborated, "I'm gonna be in all honors classes next year, I'm one of the top students at my school, and so I'll be around all these other smart kids. But they...they all dress like tiny grown ups. They read big books. I can do the same, I just don't want to. I like being a kid. You make me feel like it's okay to continue being a kid, cause you're an adult and look at what you do for a living." "It's absolutely okay to be a kid," Beatrice said, "don't ever let someone convince you otherwise. I was like you, when I was little. I was a very smart girl, and I read a lot and I spent almost all my free time with my parents cause they didn't expect me to behave the way my peers would've. You're not alone in how you feel, I promise. Are you sure you don't want a snack or a...a piece of merch or anything? An autograph?" The girl shook her head. "I already got what I wanted," she said, smiling, making Bea smile too. So Bea and the girl sat there, and they talked about her schooling and other interests and hobbies. Bea told her how she came to be the dog she knew on TV, and the girl shared with Bea her hopeful eventual career plans. In a way, Casey was right. Beatrice was a parent, whether she meant to be or not, to all those kids who needed someone but didn't either have someone or want to approach their own parents for whatever reason. And that was all Beatrice wanted, really, was for no child to feel alone. She'd never really felt alone, and she wanted every child to have that level of dedication in their adolescence from the adults around them. They deserved that much, and so much more. Every person she'd hired had, in some way, helped her learn how to be an even better person, it seemed. Michelle's illness taught her how to approach life with gusto again. Eliza's loss taught her how to cope with her own, and process it even if in albeit somewhat unhealthy ways. And Casey's outright refusal to bend to the worldviews of others taught her that sometimes you just need to do what you have to, whether you want to or not. And now this little girl, this girls disinterest in growing up taught her that it was okay to always be a child on the inside. She really knew how to pick 'em. It was funny, Bea thought, for being the one who was meant to be the teacher, she was the one being taught.
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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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