The sound of the dial clicking as she rolled through the channels, flipping past each one until finally landing on the one she was searching for, that was a sound she carried with her throughout the rest of her life. Even after getting home from the hospital, she tuned into the new episodes of Beatrice Beagle every Saturday morning, like clockwork. She'd hold her stuffed Beatrice that she'd gotten at the pizzeria gift shop, and she'd laugh and smile and sing along with the characters who had kept her company lo those many lonesome months in her hospital room as she struggled to breath properly. Her oxygen tank beside her, her tubes in her nose, Michelle couldn't be happier every Saturday morning than she was, and it was good too, because the brightness and the songs distracted from the screaming that went on behind her.
God, when had things gotten to be this way? When had things gotten to be that television was the only form of escape for little Michelle? All she knew was she was grateful for it. Beatrice was the doting mother she wished she could have, even if she only knew her and could feel her love emanating from the screen of a television once a week (or daily in reruns). Beatrice's warms words of wisdom became pieces of advice to live by, things that Michelle followed to a hilt in her day to day life, even as a little girl. She didn't have much choice, it wasn't as if her parents were going to give her anything like that. Sometimes Michelle would throw a big blanket over the television and herself, to try and keep the sounds of screaming and crying from creeping into the perfected puppet world she was immersed in. It only worked to a certain extent, and Beatrice's show only lasted a finite amount of time for each episode, after which the credits rolled and Michelle was once again thrust back into the world of familial misery. But Beatrice...god how Beatrice saved her life, even moreso than the oxygen tank. *** The closest Michelle ever got to meeting Beatrice was the animatronics at the pizzeria. Oh sure, they had people in full character costumes walking around, but they weren't Beatrice, even Michelle knew this, because despite looking like her, they didn't sound like her. Beatrice was nothing without her soft wilting voice, and this was the key difference. But on the stage? During the showtimes? That was Beatrice, visually and audio wise. The thing about the people from Beatrice Beagle is they never did shows. They never ever did live performances. They never even did public appearances, so this was the only way Michelle could ever manage to get even remotely close to meeting her hero, and she took it in stride. One night, while the pizzeria was preparing to close down and her parents were, likely, arguing in another part of the restaurant, Michelle snuck backstage during the downtime for the animatronics, and as she stood gazing up at this enormous robotic Beatrice, she couldn't help but feel safer than she ever had in her entire life. Michelle threw her arms around it and squeezed it tight, crying against its fur, wishing she could just stay here. The plush doll she took home was a nice substitute, but nothing ever matched the animatronics, and that's why, ever since those days, Michelle had spent countless hours scouring the internet for any information on them. Often times things like these come up at auction, but she never once ran across any of them, and it broke her heart. All she wanted was a Beatrice all her own, a guard dog for her heart. *** Sitting on her couch, her mask tightly on her face, Michelle continued searching for the animatronics online. This was her day off, and she'd spent most of it right there on the couch since it was raining outside. She didn't feel good enough to go downstairs into the basement and work on her project, so instead she was taking it kind of easy. As she clicked through to yet another site selling off pieces from now defunct business - be they theme parks, restaurants or schools - her landline rang. She glanced over her shoulder at it and sighed. She knew exactly who it was, even before the machine picked up. "Michelle, it's your mother. Call me back when you get this, I'd like to talk to you about something regarding your father, thank you." The message lasted a measly 15 seconds, and Michelle had absolutely no intention of calling her back tonight, or anytime soon really. The way she saw it, her parents could deal with one another themselves, because she'd already put up with more than enough. She turned her attention back to the webpage loading in front of her and sighed, typing into the search field "Beatrice Beagle". Nothing, as always, came up. *** The banging had started again. Curling up under her blanket in her closet, squeezing her plush Beatrice to her chest tightly, Michelle knew that they'd never hit one another or break anything. It was always slamming doors and foot stomping. She hated it, though, the context didn't make it any less horrible to be around. She shut her eyes and cried against Beatrices head, wishing she could be anywhere else, especially at the pizzeria right then. When her father finally left that night, he didn't come back, and from that point on it was only Michelle and her mom. Not that this made things any better, her mother didn't become anymore open with her than she had been before, but at least the fighting stopped. No more screaming was worth the change, and Michelle took it for what it was. She only saw her father a few times a year after that, and one of those times was for her 11th birthday, when he insisted he take her to the last remaining pizzeria that was about to shut down that coming week, for, as he put it, "old times sake". The way Michelle saw it, though, was that in order to do something for old times sake, you had to have enjoyed the old times enough to want to relive them, and aside from being at and loving the pizzeria, she didn't. Sitting at the table, eating greasy pizza that was nowhere near as good as childhood her had once thought it was, her father loosened his tie and leaned across the table, cupping his hands in an almost prayer like act of forgiveness. "You know it wasn't about you, right?" he asked her, "I mean, your health issues didn't make things any better, but...but it was never about you." "I know," Michelle said, picking pepperoni out of her braces, "I know that." She knew it, sure, but she barely believed it. He and mom only seemed to fight when it came to the fact of her health. That always appeared to be the catalyst for their fights, even if he didn't want to openly cop to it. Michelle set her pizza down and looked around the restaurant, at its aging and poorly maintained technology, and realized that once this place shut down, the only place she'd ever really felt safe at as a child would be gone, and this made her want to hide and cry. She wiped her nose on her sleeve and sighed. "Dad?" she asked, and he finished chewing, wiping his mouth with his napking. "Yeah?" he asked, mouth still half full of pizza. "...what happens to all this stuff when they shut down?" "I don't really know, honestly," her dad said, "I guess they probably sell it at discount prices to whoever is the highest bidder, or maybe break it down and repurpose it all." "So they're going to tear the animatronics apart?" Michelle asked, the fear of what was about to befall her beloved icons evident in her voice. He shrugged and scratched his forehead, clearly unsure if whether what he said was even remotely true or not. That had just been what he figured, that everything got recycled in the tech world because it was so expensive to rebuild it from scratch. "I don't know, Shell, I really don't," he replied, "I'm not in this business, I have no idea what they do with all this stuff." Seemed like no matter where she was, something was always tearing down the things she wanted to stick around, and she was completely incapable of stopping it from happening. *** "You know," Michelle said, on the phone with her mother the following morning as she poured cereal into her bowl, "I don't really care whether dad wants to see me or not. I'm busy, I'm working now, so he'll have to see me when I have time." "And where are you working?" her mother asked, always needing to know each and every detail. "I'm an assistant," Michelle said, sitting down and eating her cereal dry, "I have to go. I'm going to be late for work." With that, she hung up, but she was also lying. She wasn't going to be late for work, she'd called in sick. She was sick too, it wasn't a lie, she was having trouble breathing that day, and really needed to take it easy. Thankfully David understood her medical condition, and didn't make any issue of it. She was beginning to appreciate David more and more, and was growing grateful that she'd lucked out being told to meet him. As she scooped up a bunch of cereal into her mouth, her doorbell rang, and she rolled her eyes as she stood up to answer it, only to find - much to her surprise - Delores standing there. "Hello!" Delores said, pushing her way in, cheerful as always. "What...what are you doing here?" Michelle attempted to mumble, trying to keep cereal from following out from between her lips. Delores strolled inside, set her purse and coat down on the couch and turned around, looking at Michelle. "I hope you don't think of this as an invasion of your privacy," she said, "I don't want to make you uncomfortable." "It's...fine," Michelle said, even though it was so very clearly not fine, "Um...can I get you anything?" "Oh goodness no, I'm only stopping by on my way to work, I just wanted to check in on you and make sure you were doing well. David told me you weren't feeling well, so I thought I'd drop in and see how you were doing." "Oh, um, I mean, yeah...my...my breathing isn't super great right now and my chest has felt tight," Michelle said, "But, you know, I have my tanks and stuff, and as long as I take it easy I should be okay." Delores leaned against the couch and sighed, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, maybe me coming here was inappropriate," she said, "I just...I worry about you because of your health. I know I shouldn't, I know we barely know one another and that I just help you find employment, but, I can't help it. Nobody should have to feel scared when they're sick." Something inside of Michelle warmed at hearing this. It had been a long time since someone had been so unashamedly kind towards her, especially in regards to her health. She knew Delores was nice, she'd always been nice, but this was a whole other level. Delores sighed and looked at Michelle. "Well, I guess I should get going. I'm glad you're doing okay," she said, gathering up her coat and her purse. "Um, do you...want to go get something to eat?" Michelle asked as she approached the door, making Delores stop and turn to face her. "That would be delightful, yes," she said happily. There was something about Delores that Michelle had never been able to grasp exactly, but she was beginning to think it was the same warmth that she felt coming from Beatrice. That same comfort and safety she had radiating off of her that made Michelle feel like she was actually okay around her, and that Delores - like Beatrice - would never do anything to hurt her. Sitting in a pancake house a few miles away shortly after, Delores told Michelle all about herself, and they shared a lot of laughs. It was the first Saturday morning Michelle had spent in ages not watching Beatrice Beagle reruns, and she didn't regret it for a second. *** Michelle could remember when the final episode aired, and she cried all the way through it. She was never going to see Beatrice again, and she knew this. Her parents, fighting as usual in the kitchen, were confused when they saw her run to her room, sobbing, clutching her Beatrice doll to her chest, and thought she was crying because of their argument. They would never have, in a million years, guessed it was because her favorite show, her only comfort in this world among all the pain and anger and sickness, had just been taken away from her. It's amazing sometimes, Michelle would later think, how very little parents can actually know about their children.
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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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