She could hear the paws scratching at the door, and she knew that Beatrice had to go out. So, heaving herself out of bed, still in her cloud covered pajamas, Amelia Burden headed downstairs, Beatrice by her side. Together they raced down the steps to the living room to find her parents sitting in the kitchen - her mother reading the newspaper while her father cooked and made coffee - and Amelia pulled the handle on the sliding glass door leading to the backyard so she and Beatrice could rush out together. Beatrice did her business while Amelia sat on the picnic table benchseat and let the morning sun warm her. It was another beautiful summer day out here, and she had nothing expected of her except to enjoy it.
As Amelia and Beatrice came back in, she took a seat at the table and Beatrice sat right beside her on the floor. Her mother, Gloria, set the paper down and smiled at Amelia as her father, Gordon, came and poured more coffee into Gloria's mug before heading back to the stove to work on his eggs. Gloria sipped her coffee carefully before looking back at Amelia. "Any plans?" she asked, and Amelia nodded. "I think we're gonna go down to the library and get some books," Amelia said. "They let Bea into the library?" Gordon asked, and Amelia nodded. "They don't mind, they love her down there," she said, smiling happily at the dog lying on the floor beside her feet. After breakfast, Amelia pulled on her overalls and her clogs and, Bea by her side, headed down to the small local library. Beatrice never wore a leash, she never had to, as Amelia knew she never wandered far from her side. Beatrice was an extremely well behaved dog. Entering the library, the librarian behind the desk smiled and waved at them as the usual guests they were, and then they set upon finding books. Amelia got a mystery book, always a fan of mysteries, and then a whole slew of books on the arts, be it dance, acting or painting. Amelia had always been drawn to the arts, thanks to her fathers painting work. Once they were back home, Bea and Amelia holed themselves up in Amelia's bedroom on the floor and Amelia read through the books one at a time for Bea to follow along with, while she shared her string cheeses with her. It didn't matter that Bea couldn't understand what Amelia was saying, Amelia didn't care, because she had all she wanted in the world; friendship and literature. What more could a little girl ask for, really? *** "Miss Burden?" the man asked, still standing there, "Would you like a moment?" She nodded, wiping at the tears on her face. *** Beatrice didn't seem to understand that Amelia wasn't going back to the house with her parents. Standing there in her dorm at the college, her father dropping the last box on the floor, Beatrice looked from one member of the family to the other, head cocked to the side, ears perked slightly up. She whined a little, which caught Amelia's attention, and she knelt down to stroke her head. "She'll be in good hands," Gloria said, "You know we love her sweetheart, you won't have to worry about her." "I know, it's just going to be weird not having my best friend here," Amelia said, "Bea's been with me for as long as I can remember. I can't imagine not having her around. That life seems completely inconceivable to me." Gordon touched Gloria's shoulder and, after they patted Amelia on the back, they left her alone with Beatrice momentarily so she could say goodbye to her best friend. Amelia ran her hands behind Bea's ears and scratched lightly. "This isn't goodbye, I'm going to come home for the holidays and stuff and see you and mom and dad," Amelia said, "But I have to do this in order to be an adult, I hope you understand and don't forever hate me for it. You know I love you Beatrice, you know you're the best dog and greatest friend anyone could ever ask for." Beatrice barked and wagged her tail, making Amelia throw her arms around the dog, squeezing a bit, fighting back the tears. She promised she'd see her again, and she kept true to that promise. A year later, during summer break, Amelia came home and as she got out of her car and headed up the walkway, she could see Beatrice standing on the couch against the front window, yapping excitedly, so happy to see Amelia come home, even if only for a bit. That summer was great fun, as Amelia and Bea fell right back into the same relationship they'd had since they were young girl and pup respectively. Running in the fields surrounding the house, exploring and playing fetch, lounging inside when it rained and listening to old jazz records, and Amelia always sneaking Bea an extra little treat here and there. Their friendship was a testament to the truth that distance, nor time, could destroy a connection as deep as theirs. *** Amelia entered the small room, its counters littered with metallic surgical instruments and the stench of less. She shut the door softly behind her and then looked at the slab table in front of her, centered in the middle of the room, completely unsure of what to even say. How does one say goodbye to someone they aren't ready to lose? *** Amelia would've preferred literally any other kind of news to the kind she had received that Sunday morning. Drinking her tea and reading a book on bird watching, her landline rang only once before she scrambled to answer it, expecting a callback from a local theatre she'd auditioned for earlier that week. But it wasn't the man she'd auditioned for, no, it was her mother, and her voice was shaky. Immediately, without her mother even saying the news, Amelia knew something was wrong. And as soon as the words left Gloria's lips, Amelia crumpled to the floor and curled into a ball of weeping pain and writhing grief. She immediately told her professors she had to go home for an emergency in the family, packed her car that afternoon and was on the road in no time. When she arrived, Bea was lying in Amelia's bed, but wasn't out of it enough to keep her tail from wagging like crazy upon seeing her. Amelia knew she didn't have much time, and that this was something she herself was going to have to do, so after spending an hour or so with her in her childhood bedroom, she loaded Beatrice up in the car and headed off to the vet. She knew Beatrice wouldn't be coming back. It had spread so rapidly, and Bea was full of tumors. There was nothing that could be done except put her to sleep, to end her suffering. But now, standing in this small sterile room, seeing her best and oldest friend lying on a table preparing to, likely unknowingly, face oblivion, Amelia couldn't conjure anything to say. She couldn't muster any words in her throat, and instead, she just stood there and held her paw. The doctor came back in, before realizing he'd left the shot in the other room and excused himself to go get it, giving Amelia one last chance to say something to Bea. She reached up with her other hand and stroked between the dogs eyes gently, forcing herself to smile. "You're okay," Amelia whispered, "You're okay. You aren't alone. I wouldn't let you be alone, you never let me be alone." And before she knew it, Beatrice was gone. Amelia went to the local courthouse the following week and legally changed her name to Beatrice, before going back and finishing college, majoring in theatre. Though she lacked most of the resolve to really try, and none of her auditions ever lead anywhere. After a while, Bea simply gave up and instead attempted her hand at writing, which didn't really go anywhere either. And then, a year after her dogs death, she had an idea. She set about going to the library, as she had as a child, and taking it upon herself to learn sewing and costume design. Within a few months, she had the suit and the head made, and the very first time she put it on, standing and looking at herself in the mirror, she finally knew what she was meant to do. *** "I have to be honest with you," the station manager said, "I don't understand the appeal." "That's because you're not 5," Liam said, "Trust me, this is the next big thing. Beatrice is determined to make this thing work." "...how about we make a deal?" the station manager said, leaning forward and cupping his hands on the desk, "I am a part owner in a local chain pizzeria, and it doesn't really have proper theming. We want to really make it a bigger place, make a mark with it, so how about you let us use the characters you have to do that, and you get to make your show?" Liam looked at Bea, who glared at him, and bit his lip. He thought momentarily before turning back to face the station manager and asked if they could have a few moments. He happily obliged, and left the two alone in the room. Bea crossed her arms and looked away as Liam stood up and paced. "Look, as long as we aren't outright promoting it on the show, it shouldn't matter much, right? As long as we aren't blatant advertising, then-" "It doesn't have to be blatant to be wrong," Bea said, "This is an incredibly personal creation, and you're willing to shell it out to a pizzeria for a shot at fame on a puppet show. You can't even begin to imagine what the character of Beatrice means to me." "Bea, she's a dog," Liam said, "She's not even real. You made her up." Bea didn't respond to this. Liam didn't know the origin, he didn't even know how intertwined the character of Beatrice had become to the newly minted Beatrice herself, and perhaps if she'd spoken about this in depth, Liam would've understood, and he wouldn't have somehow cajoled her into going along with the station managers plan. Maybe if she'd dug out the photo albums, brimming with imagery of young Bea and her namesake pup, Liam would get it. Maybe if she'd spoken, he would've listened. But she didn't, and he didn't, and the whole thing went off anyway. As time went on, Beatrice grew to dislike what the creation represented, because in the back of her mind - despite her original intentions with the creation of the character to sift through her own life and help kids grow with their own - she couldn't help but remember she was really just there to hawk pizza. This only became more exacerbated when the animatronics were added to the pizzeria, and the whole thing was fused like some sort of horrible manufactured and poorly engineered Frankenstein; this bastardization of what Beatrice was meant to mean made her sick, and before long she loathed putting the head over her own. She wanted nothing but to be as far removed from Beatrice as she could be. And it was all Liam's fault, at least that's how she saw it, because if there was one thing Beatrice was never good at, it was taking blame for things. And 13 years after Liam met Bea in that alley after the show, Bea pulled the plug on the whole thing, and the pizzeria collapsed simply because of changing tastes in family entertainment for the decade. Soon enough, nothing existed of Beatrice Beagle, except for the memory it left in the head of one little girl, one little girl Bea never knew existed, named Michelle Helm. *** "Are you sure you don't want anything else to drink?" the dark haired, indian woman asked as she stood in Bea's kitchenette and poured a glass of wine. "No thank you, I don't drink much," Bea replied, "And if you're trying to get me sloshed to get into my pants, rest assured, I'm asexual, so that won't happen." This made the indian woman laugh, as she brought herself and her drink back to the couch to sit back down. This was their third date, Bea and the womans - whose name was Amad - after having met a few months ago in a crafts store Bea frequented. Bea had dated men and women in the past, but these days she leaned primarily to women when dating, mostly because as Liam had proved, men couldn't be trusted. Amad sipped her wine and smiled at Bea. "You don't have to worry," Amad said, "I'm certainly not one to pressure anyone into anything, so you have nothing to fear. Honestly, at my age, sex doesn't interest me all that much anymore as it is. I'd much prefer spending time with someone and talking." Bea smiled a little, feeling happy Amad understood and respected her. "I love your apartment, it's so...old fashioned," Amad said, "Record player, oil paintings, the stained glass lamps." "Those are Tiffany's," Bea said, "They came from my father. He's big into class." "Well, he has good taste then," Amad said, "It's nice to see things people consider relics still be considered important. It's nice to know that the old things are never really gone, it makes you feel like perhaps immortality isn't impossible on some basic conceptual level." "I've always believed in immortality, or at least certain ideas surrounding it," Bea said, turning to Amad, continuing she added, "Like...like how if you really love something, you'll always remember it, and therefore it can never really die, because if it can't be forgotten, it won't fade away. It'll always live on in some way through you, vicariously." "I like that, that's beautiful," Amad said, "What is your stance on something like reincarnation?" "I don't rule it out, and for those who hope it's real I hope it is for their sake, but I certainly wouldn't want to personally have it happen to me," Bea said, "I've had enough suffering for one life, and not nearly enough love." This made Amad said, and she set her wine glass on the coffee table before running her fingertips on Bea's face and smiled at her, their eyes locking. "I can fix that for you," Amad said, leaning in to kiss her. Beatrice didn't stop her. While they kissed, she heard her answering machine pick up, and it was Liam once again. Bea tried to block it out, but halfway through, she interrupted the kiss and unplugged the phone before coming back to the couch and continuing the romance. *** Liam hung up the phone slowly, trying to not take it personally. She'd always been a rather private person, and he knew he'd been dumb to even try and call her. Instead, he stood up, straightened his tie and walked into his bathroom. Liam opened his medicine cabinet, pulled out his prescribed sleeping pills and went into the bedroom where he sat on the bed and, after a few minutes of trying hard to untwist the cap, finally opened the bottle and - with a glass of water - downed the whole thing. He then laid down on the bed and shut his eyes, folding his hands on his chest. He couldn't help but think of Bea, and all the things he wish he could've said to her before he'd leave this world, but it didn't matter now. He'd be gone soon. He felt something roll down into the center of the bed and push against his hip, and he smiled. It was Marvin's urn. At least he didn't have to go alone.
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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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