*click*
The message started again from the beginning, a womans voice speaking loud and clear from the speaker. "You're such a selfish bitch, I hope you know that. I hope you know that you don't actually want to help anyone, you only want to hurt them, you only care about bettering your own life. You're a fraud, and I hope you die you lying sack of human feces." The message ended, and Natasha and Jay looked up from the phone on Lawrence's desk to Lawrence seated behind it, who merely shrugged. "What did I ever do to this woman?" Natasha asked. "We don't know, obviously, but she's been leaving messages for weeks," Lawrence said, "And it's starting to take up all my space on my answering machine, quite frankly." "How...I mean...what can I even do about it? If we don't know who she is, if she's not leaving a callback number...is she?" Natasha asked, and Lawrence shook his head. "No, she's calling from a restricted number, there's nothing I can really gleam from it," Lawrence said, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes with his palms, "But this is getting out of hand and I'm prepared to do whatever it takes to find out who she is, because this needs to be stopped." "Why don't you just replace the phone?" Jay asked. "Already done it," Lawrence said, "She found my new number." "Wow, that's dedication," Jay replied quietly, clearly impressed. "Well, I promise I'll figure it out somehow and make sure she stops bothering you," Natasha said, "I'm so so sorry about this Lawrence, you shouldn't have to deal with this kind of thing." After the meeting concluded, Natasha and Jay exited the office and leaned against the hallway wall outside the door, just staring into space and, occasionally, at one another. Eventually, they locked eyes and exhaled. Jay slid one hand into his coat pockets and his ran his other hand through his short brown scruffy hair. "How exactly do you plan to find this person if there's no callback number and it's a restricted line?" Jay asked. "We won't need to find her, because I already know who it is," Natasha said, surprising Jay, continuing, "I just didn't want to openly admit that to Lawrence. She's someone who's e-mailed me and I've met on a number of occasions before. I don't know where she lives exactly, but I do know her name and with that we can find her." "Who is this woman?" Jay asked, thoroughly confused by the whole thing. "Her name is Amanda Keaton," Natasha said, "She used to be a fan." *** Violet was, admittedly, somewhat frightened. Horses were large, awkwardly shaped beasts, with teeth too big for their mouths and enough strength to crush a skull under their hooves. As she cautiously pet the front of the horses nose, she began to smile a little, liking how soft the tip of their snout felt. It was like velvet, and the sensation on her skin was lovely, texture wise. She shut her eyes and continued petting, listening to the horse breath. After a few moments, Courtney came back into the stable with riding gear, and watched Violet pet the horse. When Violet opened her eyes, she spotted Courtney just standing and watching her and quickly pulled her hand away, feeling somewhat embarrassed for having been seen. "It's okay," Courtney said, "They feel nice, I know. Here, you have to wear a helmet." Courtney handed her a nice helmet, and Violet managed to put it on fairly easily, locking the little straps together under her chin and then readjusting the rest of it to comfortably sit upon her head. Courtney opened the stable door and led two horses out with her, Violet in tow, as they headed towards the outdoors. Once outside, Bryan was standing there, and was already on his horse, in full riding gear. "You're gonna love this!" Bryan said cheerfully, "Riding a horse for the first time is one of the greatest experiences one can have in the outdoors. There's a reason the wild west fought so hard to not die off." "Your mom did say this was alright, didn't she?" Courtney asked, before hesitantly handing Violet the reins to the horse she'd been petting in the barn. Violet nodded yes, and Courtney smiled as she helped her up on the horse. Sitting there, atop this mountain of a beast, feeling its weight shift beneath her, Violet felt...calm. The fire that was constantly surrounding her brain finally seemed to die down a bit, and she felt truly relaxed for the first time in her life. Bryan clicked his teeth, then his heels on the horses sides, and the three of them were off at a slow and steady pace up into the nearby wooded area. Violet knew Courtney's family was rich, but she wasn't sure just how rich they were until this very moment. They had a forest on their property, a property which included a stable full of horses. The house itself that they lived in was rather grand in scope, with as many bathrooms as Violet's had rooms. Heading up into the woods, Violet smiled, glanced over at Courtney and knew she finally had a real friend. It was something she'd never really felt before. All her friendships before had been nothing more than her mother begging other mothers to let their children play with Violet. But this? This was genuine. Courtney had approached Violet herself, taken the initiative upon herself to take her horseback riding, and had followed through on all her promises. Thank goodness, too, because a real friendship with someone her own age was something Violet desperately needed at this moment in time. *** Natasha and Jay were sitting in her living room, thumbing through a phone book. Thankfully, phone books still existed, though it certainly was somewhat of an effort to successfully track one down. They were seated on her couch and Jay, using his right index finger, was running down the list of names before them, hoping to eventually land on Amanda Keaton. Problem was, when they finally found her...there was a handful of them in the city. Natasha leaned back and groaned in frustration, covering her face with a pillow. "Hey, don't get discouraged, we'll just...drop on by to each of them and see which one is which," Jay said, "You'd recognize her, right?" "Yeah, she sent me a photo of herself and her family once," Natasha said, somewhat muffled through the pillow, "I would recognize her. I would. Still, that's kind of a creepy way to go about things, isn't it? This is why I whitelisted myself from the phone book. I mean, if I want my privacy, why should I just roll on up and invade someone else's personal space?" "She's invading yours!" Jay said, half laughing at the absurdity of this logic, "She's leaving you hostile semi threatening voicemails, and she sounds rather upset. I think you have every right to approach her about it, especially if she doesn't intend to stop bothering our boss, who, really, has nothing to do with any of this other than he happens to employ you. Lawrence shouldn't have to deal with that." "No, you're right, he shouldn't, and I...I know that, I do," Natasha said, putting a bookmark in the phone book and then picking it up, tucking it under her arm and heading towards the door, "Alright, let's go find these women." Natasha and Jay piled into her car and started driving. It took a while, almost 3 hours, but they did finally track down the right Amanda Keaton. She was standing outside, in her bathrobe, washing her car. Her hair was disheveled, like she hadn't showered in days, and she was smoking a cigarette. Once they'd tracked her down, they parked a bit a ways down the street from her home so as not to arouse her suspicion, and simply watch her from the comfort of the car. Why had this woman been doing this to her? She'd once been a fan, what had turned her against Natasha? They'd spoken several times over, so why the sudden seemingly irrational streak of hatred? Then again, it seemed lately that she was making more enemies than friends, so perhaps it wasn't all that surprising after all. After a bit, Natasha exhaled and looked at Jay. "You want me to come with you?" he asked. "Yeah, please, I...I don't trust I won't get hurt or something," Natasha said, and Jay nodded. "No probs boss," Jay said, unbuckling his seatbelt, quickly following Natasha out of the car and up the street towards the driveway. When they approached, Amanda Keaton was squatting down, squeezing her sponge out into a bucket, and slowly looked up at them. "oh," she said quietly, "it's you." "We need to talk," Natasha said. "Well," Amanda said, standing up and dropped the sponge fully into the bucket now, "then let's talk, I guess. What do you wanna talk about? That you destroyed my entire belief system, or that you ruined my marriage?" "...um," Natasha mumbled, "...I guess whatever you want to start with." This wasn't going to go well, she could tell. *** Violet and Courtney dismounted at the top of the hill, Bryan doing so shortly after them, and approached the edge. Violet had a particular fear of heights, so this made her somewhat uncomfortable, but she knew Courtney wouldn't let anything happen to her. Or at least she trusted as much, seeing as that's what friends were supposed to do, wasn't it? Help protect you? She didn't really know, as she'd never really had a real friend before. Standing there, Courtney reached into a side bag on the horse and pulled out some small carrots, which she split with Violet, and then showed her how to hand feed them to their equine friends. Bryan sat down on a nearby rock and pulled out his cell phone, checking his messages, his apps and what have you. "They're big but they're not dangerous, not anymore so than any other animal in our day to day lives, especially if you treat them with the same love and respect as you would anyone else," Courtney said, and Violet nodded. "Their size scares me," she stuttered, "Big things are scary." "Big things are scary," Courtney agreed, chuckling, "I'm scared of roller coasters myself. But...you need to face those fears, or else they control you. That's what my dad says anyway." Violet looked back at Bryan and grimaced. "I don't have a dad anymore," she said quietly. "I'm sorry," Courtney replied, "My mom isn't around much these days, so I know what it's like to be down a parent, even though our situations aren't exactly the same. But you have your mom, right? And isn't she like a TV star or something?" "Or something," Violet said, smirking, making a joke, "My mom is great, and I don't miss my dad really but I do wish my family was whole. My mom can be...weird, and sometimes that makes me feel weird. But she never makes me feel weird on purpose, she's never mean to me, not like the kids at school..." Courtney frowned a bit and leaned against a tree, folding her arms as she watched Violet continue to feed the horses. "It...it's even worse than you think or know," she said quietly, "...I don't want to alarm you, but you're very much a target of ridicule even when you're not there. Like, they're relentlessly cruel regarding you and your state of mental health. I had to break away from the rest of them because I just couldn't take it anymore. When I was a very little kid, I was made fun of too, for something out of my control, and I would never want to do that same sort of thing to someone knowing firsthand how it feels." "You're a nice person, Courtney," Violet said, the two of them smiling at one another, "And you have nice horses. Can we keep riding?" "Of course!" Courtney said, instantly cheering back up and hopping back onto her horse, Violet doing the same, Bryan following their lead and guiding them down through the hills and the woods. It was the first truly nice day Violet Simple had had in ages. *** Jay and Natasha were seated on the living room couch inside Amanda Keaton's home while she brought them some coffee. The place looked like a nightmare; it wasn't rundown or dingy or anything, but there were clothes and toys everywhere, bowls with spoons or forks in them in places they shouldn't be, and overall the place had the stench of 'unkempt'. Natasha dug her nails into her knees and looked over at Jay. "What do you say we just leave?" she asked. "You're so afraid of confrontation that you'll just bail?" Jay asked. "Yes, yes I am, and I would. You don't understand, I...I freeze up in this situations, man. When my husband walked out, I couldn't even argue against it. It was like a part of me understood and was willing to let it just happen. Like I deserved it or something. Now I've ruined this womans life, just like I ruined his, and both times, despite being told it's my fault, I don't know what it was that I did wrong!" She quickly shut up once she heard Amanda Keaton coming back into the living room. She handed them each their mugs of coffee before putting a plate of biscottis down on the coffee table in front of them and sat on the arm of a chair across from the couch. For a few minutes, nobody said anything, they all sat there awkwardly sipping coffee and eating cookies like they were old friends who'd just dropped in unexpectedly. Finally, Natasha opened her mouth, catching bits of cookie that tumbled from her mouth. "Can I rust thay..." she started, before finishing and starting again, "Can I just say one thing?" "Which would be?" Amanda asked. "I'm sorry. Whatever it was I did, or you feel that I did, I'm sorry," Natasha said, "I don't...I've caused a lot of problems lately, and I'm sorry if I caused you problems as well." "You broke my beliefs, Nat," Amanda said, "I mean, I was only a fan and we'd only corresponded a few times, but...but I truly believed in all the things you ever said. You were my guiding light in this world. The voice of reason on a television so often devoid of such a thing. And then you...you just...openly admit that none of it mattered or was true, and...and you broke me. My husband, on the other hand, emboldened by your newfound set of ethics, decided to finally leave." "...what?" Nat asked, sounding genuinely surprised at this revelation. "Yeah, he said you were right, he said he'd been feeling that same way for a while now and that you gave him the strength he needed to turn and finally leave," Amanda said, "This is the same man who, for many years, told me I was dumb for believing anything you said instead of forming my own critical opinions." "Wait, so, a guy who called you stupid who agreeing with someone whose ethical and moral beliefs lined up with your own then has the gall to say he too believes what she says when she starts saying something he agrees with, and you're upset he's gone?" Jay asked, "Sounds like, if anything, Nat saved you the trouble of being trapped in a marriage where you're made to feel like shit constantly." A silence engulfed the room, and Amanda pushed her bangs from her eyes, sighing. "I...I've thought about that, yeah, and it's...hypocritical for sure, but I didn't want my marriage to end, much less the way it did," Amanda replied. "I didn't want mine to end either," Nat said, "but it happens when it happens. Despite feeling like a ticking time bomb, there's actually no actual countdown clock for when something will explode. It just...happens. But the thing is, I've come to learn that I'm probably better off because of it now. Way I see it, he's with my sister, and I'm single and eating chinese takeout every night in my underwear in the living room watching whatever the hell I feel like watching. I'd say, between the two of us, I made out far better than he did, which is funny considering he's the one who pushed for it." Amanda exhaled and ran her hands fully through her dirty unwashed hair. She slumped down from the arm of the chair and into the chair proper, looking around the house. "I must be such a cliche," she said quietly, "Husband leaves and suddenly I can't function. Except the thing is, I can function. I just...didn't want to. When you're part of a team for that long, you don't really remember how to work by yourself when they're gone. You start to think maybe you can't. I know that I can, I just chose not to. It's not like I'm neglecting my children, they're going to school every day, clean and well dressed, and I'm making dinner every night, or ordering in, and so they're well fed. It's mostly just me, and the house proper, that's suffered." "Understandable," Jay said, "But at least you recognize it. At least you acknowledge it. At least you admit it. And at least you're willing to do it. A lot of people wouldn't, they would just give up, because their self esteem has been so worn down by the other part of their team that they no longer think they're either capable or deserving of doing better." "Amanda," Nat said, interrupting Jay, "...I never intended to hurt anyone. I...I did what I had to for me. My whole show was about helping others, but that one time, that one moment, that one singular instance, that was for me. I hurt. I still hurt, but it's, ya know, kinda manageable now, and it'll get more and more manageable every day that passes. You want a friend? I'll be your friend. Shit knows I could use one." Amanda laughed and sipped her coffee. "You're alright, Simple," Amanda said, "I'm sorry for harassing you the way I was. I didn't...I just didn't know who else to put my anger out towards. Doing it at my ex would've been so generic, you know? That's been done." "Yeah, you should always strive for originality," Jay said, the three of them beginning to crack up. This moment, to Natasha, was a real learning experience. Not only did her actions truly have impact on those around her, but it also made her aware that she herself had the ability to create such moments, if she so chose to. Much like her daughter, she too needed a friend. *** After Violet had been picked up, and the horses had been put away, and they had had dinner, Courtney found herself sitting in her bedroom. She was on her bed, in her pajamas, just looking through a photo album. But she wasn't looking at her mom, who was currently away on business, no. She was looking at herself. Bryan knocked on the door and came in, and she smiled at him as he sat down on the bed and ruffled her hair. "Hey kiddo," he said, "What're you doing?" "Nothing, just looking at pictures," Courtney said, "...dad, thanks for taking us riding." "Hey, it was a good time," Bryan said, "You know I love riding horses. I'm just glad you two had a good time. She seems like a good kid, if a bit strange. Then again what teenager isn't, right?" Courtney looked away, looking mildly hurt, before Bryan quickly corrected himself and touched her shoulder. "Hey, hey, I didn't mean that like that, you know that right? I didn't mean you," he said, "you're not strange, not for that anyway." This admittance made Courtney smirk and hug her dad. "I love you dad," she said softly, and he squeezed her back. "I love you too, sweetpea," he said, "now get some sleep. You have a doctors appointment tomorrow." With that, Courtney climbed into bed, grabbed her stuffed dog and hugged it close to herself as Bryan left the room so she could lay in bed and read for a bit before going to sleep. He made his way downstairs and sat down at the enormous dining room table, burying his face in his hands. He never wanted to make her feel weird or awkward for who she was, how she was. He worked so hard at keeping her happy, making her feel loved, but he often did the same for himself. Maybe self care was a real thing he should work on after all, he thought. He stood back up and walked to the couch, plopped down and clicked on the television. Natasha's face filled the screen, as a re-run of her show aired in front of him. He had the sound off, but the captions were on, so he could clearly understand what she was saying. She was saying something about how only you really can depend on yourself, and yourself alone, and he disagreed. He didn't want his daughter to have to only depend on herself. He wanted her to be able to depend on him as well. But he watched nonetheless. After all, if this new kid was going to be hanging around more, he'd better start boning up on his knowledge of Natasha Simple. He'd need it if he were going to ask her for a favor.
0 Comments
Natasha found herself sitting in the guest room backstage of a local talk show. She never would've expected herself to be a guest on anything, and yet, here she was. Ever since her breakdown on her own show a few weeks prior, the press had all been coming in positive, and bringing in more money to the public access station her show as a part of. She'd even been given the timeslot beside the other most popular show on the network.
She found her eyes glancing around the room, taking it all in. This was definitely more big time than she was, or likely ever would be. Suddenly her eyes drifted down to the table in front of her, filled with a snackplate that consisted almost entirely of grapes and nothing else. Natasha scoffed. Grapes? This was the best a talk show had to offer? Sure, they were only a local talk show, but still, that felt wrong. The door opened and a young woman stuck her head in, adjusting the earpiece she had lodged into one side of her head. She smiled at Natasha and waved. "Miss Simple? They're ready for you," she said. Natasha stood up, brushed herself off and walked out, following the woman down the hall. This was her day, and nothing was going to ruin it. Except that wasn't true, because by the end of the day, she'd be in a lot of hot water, and all because of a single word she'd said. *** "I should ask what's wrong with you," Lawrence said, "but I'm not even sure that you know. I'm starting to think that we need to get you a doctor, a specialist, who can somehow saw open your head and inspect your brain to find out the problem, because holy shit you've created such a storm in just two weeks." "I know. I'm sorry," Nat said, looking down at her shoes. "Did you not know it was a family friendly talk show? Did you not know that all the women there are mothers? Did you not know that women with young children at home watch the show? Tell me what happened," Lawrence continued, sitting on his desk, folding his arms, "Cause I'm confused." "I'm a mom too, I just...I...I guess I didn't think it was a big deal. I didn't even swear, but if I had, I swear around my daughter all the time, and she-" "Your daughter is a teenager, she's swearing!" Lawrence said, "But show me the last 5 year old who spoke like a sailor, and then maybe you'll have an argument in your defense!" Nat shrugged, continuing to avert her eyes from her boss as he rubbed his forehead, stood back up and paced around to the other side of his desk, seating himself behind it once more. "I don't like being mad at you, I like you Natalie," Lawrence said, "You're...a really nice, intelligent, creative person, and I like you. But I can't ignore when someone creates a firestorm like this. I'm the president of the network, it's expected of me to punish you, or do something to show the public that you've been punished. The longer I don't do something, the more at risk that puts me, do you get that?" "Yeah, I...I do, I understand," Natalie said, "...am I fired?" "You're not fired, of course not. I think the fallout will blow over and be overshadowed by your good press from your show, but...I don't know what I'm gonna do." Natalie didn't respond, and Lawrence started losing himself in paperwork. After a bit, he told her she could go, so she stood up and walked out. In the hall, Natalie leaned against the wall and cried quietly to herself. Jay stopped by and touched her arm, slightly startling her. "Sorry," he said, "You okay?" "...I'm an idiot," Natalie said. "Naw, those people on the talk show are over reactionary, you're fine," Jay said, as they started walking down the hall together; he continued, "Honestly, I don't see anything wrong with what you did. They asked you a question and you answered, like an adult, to another adult, about an adult subject." "Exactly!" Natalie said, "Thank you!" "Who cares if their kids were watching? They're watching because their parents are watching it, and are you telling me those same kids don't hear those same words in their own household daily? Gimme a break. They're trying to relegate responsibility and shift blame to a guilty party because they don't wanna be the guilty party." "God, see, you understand," Natalie said, "What's the big damn deal? They're gonna make me apologize. Can you believe that?" "Well, you do represent the station," Jay said, "Much as I may agree with you, you do represent the station, so whatever you do that looks bad only looks bad on the station threefold. Makes sense to make you apologize, even if it is ridiculous." "I guess," Nat replied, chewing her nails, "I never wanna get Lawrence hassled, so it's probably for the best." Jay and Natasha continued to the kitchen of the office and made themselves a little snack, all the while bitching about the ridiculousness of the situation. It was nice that she had at least one friend, aside from Lawrence, around these parts, Natasha figured. Made her feel like maybe the entire world wasn't just out to get her. *** Violet was always picked up after school by her mother, but on the rare days she couldn't manage to do this, Violet found herself having to take the bus home. She hated taking the bus; it put her into extremely close contact with the kids who gave her grief, but without the sanctity of a teacher or guardian to protect her from their bullshit. Sitting on a bus seat now, listening to music and reading a book, she could hear all the kids behind her shouting and laughing behind her. She sighed and tried to drown it out, when she felt a hand on her arm, and glanced up to see Courtney. "What are you doing on the bus?" Violet asked, pulling her headphones down somewhat. "I saw you get on, and figured you'd be lonely," Courtney said, "But we're gonna get off at the next stop, okay? Trust me, just get off with me. It'll be worth it." Violet certainly wasn't going to turn down the chance to escape this hormonal driven cacophony that surrounded her currently, so she nodded, agreeing to follow Courtney's lead. As the bus came to a stop, she felt Courtney tug on her arm and lead her off the bus. Courtney, belonging to the family she belonged to, wasn't stopped by the driver, and instead they walked right off and waited on the corner for a moment in a residential neighborhood Violet didn't recognize one bit. After a minute or two of waiting, Violet opened her mouth to ask a question, but Courtney, grinning widely, just pointed at a car approaching them. A very fancy car. As the car pulled over, an older man got out and looked at the girls. "Get in," he said, "We're going to get something to eat." "We shouldn't get in the car with strangers," Violet said and Courtney laughed. "That's my dad!" she said, "Come on!" Violet, this time rather reluctantly, agreed and followed Courtney into the backseat of the car. Courtney's father, Bryan, was a handsome older man. Still had a full head of hair, a slight beard shadow, and was dressed in a very nice suit. He quickly revved the card and took off down the street, far faster than Violet was admittedly comfortable with. As they sped down the road, Courtney looked at Violet, who had a face of concern, and touched her shoulder. Violet turned to face her and Courtney smiled. "Relax," she said, "I just thought this would be better than riding the bus with those jerks." Violet allowed herself to relax a loosen a bit. She wasn't used to being treated well by one of her peers, so her guard was constantly up, but she figured she could trust Courtney. After all, she was going to get her something to eat. They found a nice Thai food place and all slid into the booth; Courtney and Violet on one side, her father on the other side. He made it clear they could order whatever it was they wanted, and not worry about the price. He just wanted them to eat well. Violet didn't know what a lot of this stuff was, so they had to explain it in detail to her, but eventually they settled on a dish she thought sounded somewhat appealing. After giving their order to the waitress, Bryan cupped his hands and smiled across the table at the two girls. "Courtney tells me you like horses," he said. "Yes," Violet said quietly, "I like horses a lot." "She says you've never ridden a horse, and she brought up the idea of maybe the two of you going trail riding together sometime," Bryan said, "With a chaperone, of course, just because it can be dangerous at times." "I'd like that. I've always wanted to ride a horse. I'll have to ask my mom though," Violet said, and Bryan nodded. "Of course, no, we wouldn't want to do anything behind her back obviously. Ask your mom, see what she says and then maybe I'll call her up and we can arrange it all," Bryan said, "You'll love it. It's a very...calming experience." Violet smiled at that sentiment. Life hadn't been very calm lately, so she liked the sound of that. *** Natasha was sitting in a waiting area at the station, prepared to make a public statement with Lawrence, when Sharla entered the room, still in her workout clothes. She smiled at Nat and took a seat beside her, biting into an apple. "For what it's worth," Sharla said, "...I don't think what you did was dumb." This surprised Natasha, who turned to look at her with a look of disbelief on her face. "You? Of all people?" "I know we haven't always gotten along, but I do think what you did was fine. These people, they're so uptight. You can't say a single thing around them that they think might hurt the children, even though half those children are going to grow up doing that very thing," Sharla said, "Had you said something actually genuinely offensive, then perhaps I'd be more inclined to agree with them, but this? This is lunacy." "...thanks Sharla, that means a lot," Natasha said, and Sharla nodded, patting Nat on the shoulder before Jay entered and looked at them. "He's ready for you," Jay said, and Nat sighed, stood up and pulled her hair back. "Go get 'em tiger," Sharla said, making Nat smile as she headed out of the room, following Jay down the long hallway to the small lobby where the press and the women from the talk show Nat had dropped her offending word on were stationed. Lawrence was already standing at a small podium they'd brought there for this very occasion, holding a microphone. He turned and saw Nat, and both just sort of grimaced at one another. She stood behind him, looking at the ground, not saying a word. Lawrence turned to the crowd and cleared his throat. "Um," he started, "My name is Lawrence Bell, and I'm the president of this station. As many already know, a personal friend and colleague, Natasha Simple, recently said something on a local talk show that has offended some people, and after some deliberation, we have decided that she should publicly apologize. Maybe then we can all let bygones be bygones and get on with our lives. Natasha is a very valued member of our station, but she does recognize when she's screwed up. That being said, she's also not too pride to admit to her mistakes and own up to them, as so. So with that, I'll let Miss Simple take the stand." Lawrence handed Natasha the mic and backed away, now standing behind her, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Hello," Natasha said, "As many of you know, I've recently undergone a very awful event, an event I then made public on my very own show. This is how I was invited to be on the talk show to begin with. At this talk show, I was asked a question about my situation, and I responded in a way they didn't appreciate, by dropping a word they didn't want their children to hear. This word is divorce. I only say it here to give you context. To me, the word should not be something shameful of feared, but instead embraced. I'm soon to be divorced, it's something I have to begin associating with myself. I think it's ridiculous to hide children from the realities of life, but if that's what some people want to die, lie to their kids, then who am I to say otherwise?" "Nat, christ," Lawrence mumbled, as Sharla chuckled to herself from off to the side. "That being said, I am going to apologize. I'm very very sorry, and if what I said made you children unhappy, if it made them ask you uncomfortable questions about marriage, then I'm sorry for that as well. I would never want to make children uncomfortable, I have a daughter myself, so I know the feeling of wanting to protect them from even the seemingly stupidest things." Lawrence quickly grabbed the mic from her and pushed his way in front of her, looking annoyed. "I think that clears that up," Lawrence said, cutting her off, "Any questions? Yeah, you, with the green tie." A man in a suit with a green tie, holding a clipboard - clearly a reporter of some kind - stepped forward. "I'm Carl Worth with the Family Values Network, and I just have to ask if Miss Simple thinks that perhaps, with her attitude towards the very concept of divorce in general, she deserved to be left?" he asked, and Lawrence gawked at him, almost in awe. "Excuse me?" Lawrence asked, "No more questions. This conference is over." Lawrence turned and began to walk away, then stopped and looked at Natasha, who wouldn't look at him. He gritted his teeth, turned around, walked up to the reporter and clocked him in the jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground. As people shouted and gathered around to help him up, Lawrence shook his fist and rubbed his knuckles. "Now this conference is over," he said, before turning back, snapping his fingers for his people to follow him. In the halls, as everyone dispersed, Natasha walked briskly by his side as they headed to the kitchen so he could run his hand under some water. "Wow," Natasha said, "I've never had my honor defended before." "Well, as much as what they might not like what you said, I didn't appreciate what they said, so it goes both ways," Lawrence said, rubbing his hand off on a dish towel, leaning against the counter, "You may be my employee, but you're also my friend, and I won't let anyone talk about you that way no matter which you happen to be." "...thanks Lawrence," Nat said, smiling, almost crying. Lawrence approached her and hugged her tightly, as she started crying into his shirt; she sobbed, "I didn't want it to end." "I know you didn't, sweetheart. I'm so sorry. It wasn't your fault," Lawrence said quietly, rubbing her back. It was the first time Natasha had really admitted that her marriage truly was over, and it felt like a huge relief off her shoulders. *** That night at home, Natasha was sitting on her bed, looking through some papers her husband had sent over that she'd been ignoring to this point, when she heard her door creak open and saw Violet standing there. "Hi honey," Nat said, pushing her papers aside and patting her bed for Violet to come sit down. "Can I ride a horse?" Violet asked, surprising Nat, making her chuckle. "Uh, I guess? Why? Where'd you-" "A girl at school asked me if I wanted to ride horses with her, she's rich and her family owns horses. They want to take me riding. Can I go?" Violet asked, coming in and sitting on the bed, "Please?" "Of course, I think that sounds wonderful," Nat said, "Is everything else okay?" "...I'm glad it's dad who left and not you," Violet said quietly, "I need you." "Oh, Violet, you don't-" "You understand me," Violet said, sounding like she was going to cry, before she crawled further up on the bed and pushed herself into her mothers lap. Natasha held her daughter and stroked her hair, rocking back and forth a bit, just taking care of her child. She'd known that her husband had never really understood, or been happy about, his daughters mental issues, but she wasn't sure if Violet had ever picked up on this. Apparently she had, and this only made Natasha hate her husband even more than she already did. "I wanna ride a horse," Violet said softly. "Then baby, you're gonna ride a horse," Nat said, kissing her head. Even if they never had anyone else, the Simple girls at least had eachother, and that was more than most families had. "Miss Simple?" the voice called again. She knew she had to answer, but she couldn't. She just sat there, frozen, staring at the camera lens and her principal cinematographer, Jay, behind it. She couldn't find the words to say what she wanted to, and she could feel her poorly home manicured fingernails digging into her knees in her jeans. Finally she took a long deep breath, forced a smile on her face and spoke.
"I'm supposed to try and help you with your self esteem," she said, "This is a self help show, after all, but...who are we kidding? I can't even help myself, much less any of you. You're all frankly better off without me, really, and I'm willing to bet whatever advice I would've given you would've only made things worse." She leaned forward, cupping her hands together in her lap and continued. "Because what I've learned is, nobody can really help anyone. You have to try and help yourself. I mean, if you can't rely on the man you gave your whole youth to not to leave you for your own sister, abandoning his daughter in the process, then who can you trust, right? Let's not kid ourselves, we can't help one another. The best we can hope for is that each of us does so poorly that we feel better about ourselves when comparing ourselves when eachother." Another pause, as Nat ran a hand through her dark, rich chestnut hair and sighed, shaking her head. "It's plain as day, we're all screwed, and we all look to helping others so we don't have to focus on how bad our own lives are," Nat said, "Because, really, that would take guts, and most people these days don't have guts. They don't have bravery. The most they have is this, me, someone telling them how they should feel instead of finding out for themselves. Sorry. That's the show." And with that Jay cut the camera. Everyone stared at her as she stood up and looked at her crew, all awestruck by this act of total defiance. Natasha put her arms up and wiggled her fingers. "Bring me a camera," she said, and Jay quickly brought her one of the smaller handheld cameras he rarely used. She took it, smiling the whole time, thanked him and then started screaming at the top of her lungs, bashing the camera repeatedly into the ground, holding onto its tripod to do so. Natasha Simple was not a well woman. *** "Do you want donuts?" Natasha asked, sitting behind the drivers seat of her car, "Bear claw? Anything?" "No thanks," her daughter, Violet, responded. Violet was a teenager, almost 15, but looked like she was barely 13. She didn't age normally, and she had the mindset of a much younger child, likely around the age of 10 or 11 from what the doctor had told them. She was bundled up in a coat, a scarf pulled entirely around the bottom half of her face, as Natasha was driving her to school. Natasha sighed and shook her head. "I'm sorry," she said softly, "I'm sorry, I...I shouldn't be making you go to school right now, with everything that's going on. But if I don't, then the school can have child services look into me, and they can maybe take you away, so I have to send you. You understand don't you?" "Yeah," Violet said, drawing a pony in the frost of the passenger window. "You don't wanna be home right now anyway," Nat continued, "Not with everything going on. Not with how I'm feeling. Though I gather school isn't all that much better for you. School is awful in general, so." "School is okay," Violet said, speaking somewhat slowly, but clearly, "Kids aren't nice, but I like my classes." "Well, that's nice at least. About the classes, I mean, not the...not the mean kids thing, you know," Natasha said, pulling up to the school and stopping at the curb, as Violet undid her seatbelt and looked at her mom. Natasha pulled Violet's ear flap hat off and lovingly touched her face, smiling at her; she added, "Just remember, you're not different than them, you're better. If you know that, then anything they say can really hurt you." "Okay," Violet said, "Will you pick me up?" "Yes, I'll be picking you up today," Nat said, "You won't have to take the bus. I know you hate taking the bus." "Okay," Violet said, "I love you." Violet leaned in and hugged her mom, her mom hugging her back tightly, loving every second of the act. After the hug broke, Violet got her rolling backpack and Nat plopped her hat back on her head so she could get out of the car and head into the school. As she passed by a woman coming out, Natasha rolled down the passengers side window and waved at the woman. "Hi Miss Stevens," Nat said, "How are you?" "Freezing, let me in," Miss Stevens said, opening the door and getting into the car, "I'm glad I managed to catch you. We need to talk about Violet." "I know, she's a little behind on homework, but-" "No no, you know she can turn it in at her own pace, that's not the problem," Miss Stevens said, "No, the problem is, and it's not even really a problem I would say, but it could be if we don't discuss it, is the interactions she's had with some of her classmates lately. She's begun refusing to eat lunch anywhere other than my classroom, because she's afraid of them harassing her." "Have they been harassing her, Miss Ste...do you have a first name? This is too weird, I feel like a student calling you that. What's your first name?" Nat asked, and Miss Stevens laughed. "My first name is Amanda," she said. "Amanda, alright, um, she doesn't tell me too many details," Natasha said, "She...I don't know, I guess maybe she's embarrassed or something, even though I'm always telling her not to be. Whatever. Have students been harassing her?" "They call her Little Miss Simple," Amanda said, "I've heard it firsthand, it's cruel." "That is particularly cruel, yes, jesus," Natasha said, pulling her beanie off and scratching her head, "Um...what...what can we do?" "Nothing yet, really. I just wanted it brought to your attention on the off chance that she hadn't, and from what you told me she hadn't, so. I reprimand any student I hear saying it, but it's an idle threat at best. They aren't physically hurting her, so there's only so much I can do, you know?" Amanda asked, and Natasha nodded. "Yeah...yeah," Nat said, checking her phone, "I have a meeting to get to, can we maybe continue this discussion later? Thank you for bringing it up though." "I'll e-mail you," Amanda said, getting out of the car, waving goodbye and then heading towards the school as Natasha started the car back up and, pulling away from the school, continued towards her place of business. Unbeknownst to her, the day was about to get a lot more interesting. *** Natasha was seated in front of her boss's desk, him behind it, shaking his head and staring around the room incredulously. He raised his hands in the air, then lowered them again, then raised them again and covered his face with them, moaning into them loudly. "I know," Nat said, "I'm well aware, actually. I understand completely." "You..." Lawrence said, "You...do you realize what you've done?" "I've got a fairly good idea, yes," Natasha said, "And I'll apologize on air and-" "What? Apologize? Are you kidding? You're talk of the town! You...you put us on the map!" Lawrence said, leaning forward, laughing, "People from other local access stations have been calling me all damn day wanting to talk to you! We've had people sending in e-mails and calling in all morning, all talking about how brave you were to talk that openly, how inspiring they found it. Sure, sure, we've had a naysayer here or there, but overall the reception has been nothing short of tremendous, much to everyones surprise." "Myself included, apparently," Natasha mumbled, making Lawrence laugh harder. "There's talk from a local stations talk show about having you on, one of those shows where all the women sit around in non confrontational lighting and furnishings and talk about feelings," Lawrence said. "Which show?" "Who cares, they're all the same," Lawrence continued, "What I'm saying is you've...you've laid a golden egg, here." "I've never been compared to a goose before, but honestly it's kind of welcome," Natasha said. "Well, goose girl, prepare to honk yourself to death because you're about to ruffle some feathers!" Lawrence said, standing up and pacing now. "Wait, I'm a goose but I'm gonna ruffle feathers? Who's feathers? Other geese?" "I...I don't know, Nat, what do you, look, what I'm saying is that you're about to create a nest egg here for the rest of us because of your little stunt." "A nest egg? I don't think geese nest. I guess I don't know much about geese, actually." "Forget the goose thing!" "Okay, well, stop dropping bird metaphors and I will!" Natasha said, half laughing herself now. She and Lawrence had always had a rather good working relationship. He'd hired her on after she mailed in a test pilot of her show, and he had liked her attitude and on screen demeanor so much he hired her without even meeting her in person. He hired her just over the phone, the day he watched the tape. This was rather unheard of at the station, but he'd always said she had "moxy", whatever that was, because Natasha had no idea. It was a word she'd always heard applied to people but never bothered to look up the definition of. Lawrence was tall, lanky, slightly balding and older with golden wheat blonde hair and oval glasses covering his dark blue eyes. He was never mean to her, he was never cross with her, and he had never shown any romantic interest in her. The two merely appreciated one another as business colleagues, but after she made her rant on her show, she was immediately terrified of having let him down more than anyone else. He'd become a sort of pseudo father figure in her life, and she hated the thought of disappointing him, despite being an adult herself. "So," Natasha said, crossing her legs and turning in her chair to face him, "I guess I'm not in trouble?" "You're not only not in trouble, I'm putting you next to Sharla's show, every Thursday night," Lawrence said, and this made Nat ecstatic, making her squeal a bit. Sharla Karbrook, the self imposed 'health guru' on the station, had always had a bone with Natalie for some reason unbeknownst to Natalie, and always seemed like she wanted Natalie not to be there. The fact that she had a rather strained relationship with Lawrence, who had once told Natalie he couldn't stand Sharla's 'self inflated smugness', while seeing Natalie have a good relationship with him certainly didn't help matters. "Natalie," Lawrence said, leaning down and putting his hands on her shoulders, "I'm proud of you." Natalie held it inside until she got back out to her car, but she cried because of hearing that. Then she cried because she'd caught a break, after everything her lousy husband and her sister had recently put her through, she'd finally caught a break. Things were finally starting to look up. *** "Watcha lookin' at, Little Miss Simple?" a boy asked, approaching Violet as she sat in the hallway against a row of lockers, reading a book. She tried to ignore him, keep reading, but he sat down beside her and peered at the book, laughing to the girl he was with, stating, "It's a book about horses, some Pony Club bullshit or something. God, you're even simpler than I thought." Violet tried to ignore him, continue reading, but he stood up and poked her foot with his own, still trying to get her attention and draw a reaction out of her. "Little Miss Simple, what's with the horse obsession? I mean, I know it's like a classic thing for girls to like horses, wouldn't wanna mess with a classic, but seriously. Is it cause they have brains the size of yours that you feel you can relate to them better?" "Austin," a blonde girl said, walking up, backpack slung over her shoulder, "What's going on?" "Just fucking with our friend here," Austin said, the other girl laughing as the blonde looked down at Violet and shook her head. "I wish you were a horse," Violet finally said, catching Austin's attention. "Oh, yeah?" he asked. "Yeah, because when they break a leg, they get shot, and then they're turned into dog food or glue, and I'd like to see you get turned into dog food or glue, because you'd be more useful that way to people than you are now," Violet said, making the blonde raise her brow in surprise and stifle a laugh, turning away to hide her amusement. "Fuck you," Austin said, pushing Violet against the lockers and then walking away with the other girl, as the blonde approached Violet and helped her up. "That was good," the blonde said, "Are you okay?" "He's so mean, and he's only mean to me," Violet said. "He's mean to everyone," the blonde said, "It's because nobody really likes him. It's a male ego thing. He acts out because he's afraid of people seeing how he really is or something like that." "...thank you," Violet said, rubbing the back of her head, as the blonde handed her book back to her. "Have you ever ridden a horse?" the blonde asked. "No." "My family has horses, you should come see them sometime, we can go riding together, it's a lot of fun," the blonde said, smiling at her, "I'm Courtney." "I'm Violet, it's nice to meet you," Violet said, smiling a little now at this random act of kindness. Courtney Barber, one of the more popular girls at the school, had rarely if ever spoken to Violet, but now all of a sudden here she was, being friendly, and Violet appreciated it. She had virtually no friends her own age, and really her only actual friend would be her own mother, whom she loved dearly. Courtney sat down beside her and kept talking about horses with her. Courtney was your stereotypical popular pretty girl. Silky blonde hair and bright green eyes, perfect complexion, well dressed. It helped that she clearly came from money, but either way, she seemed to be naturally predetermined to be perfect, and Violet secretly wished inside that she was Courtney Barber. Some days, she wished she could be anyone other than who she actually was, despite her mother telling her to be proud of herself. *** That night, sitting on the couch together eating chinese take out, Natasha and Violet were quiet, neither one really needing to talk and instead opting to simply enjoy one anothers company. They were technically physically watching some crummy sitcom, but the television was muted, so they weren't really paying much attention. They were just enjoying being there, in the moment, in their warm cozy living room, eating their dinner, amongst one another. "I'm getting a new time slot," Natasha finally said. "I made a friend today," Violet responded, making Natasha smile. "Sounds like it was a pretty good day overall for the Simple gals," Nat said, playing footsie with her daughter, making her laugh as she tried to eat. After dinner, Violet took a bath and then went to read until she fell asleep, leaving Natasha to sit at the kitchen table and stare at a photo of her now partially defunct family. The three of them, herself, her husband and Violet out getting pumpkins for Halloween one year, all looking happy as can be. Lies. All photographs were lies of one kind or another. Natasha sighed and looked around the house, realizing it was now her duty to make this their home, not his home, and she knew the first act she'd need to do before that could be done. She got up, gathered every single photo she had of him, and took them outside. She then dragged her yard waste trashcan in from the curb and into the backyard, where she dumped the photos into it and then set the internal contents of the can on fire. Standing there, hands in her pockets, watching the flames lick the sky, she couldn't help but feel strangely proud of herself. Sure, she was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown, but at least she was trying to move forward with her life, instead of curling up into a ball of sadness and anxiety like she normally would've done. That was a big improvement for her. She sighed and looked up at the night sky, knowing that somewhere out there, her husband was under the same night sky, likely fucking her sister in a new bed. She shook her head and laughed at her stupidity, how she could have allowed herself to be strung along for so long, all the while knowing he was up to something. She really had started, at some point, to buy into all that crap she'd once said on her TV show. All that crap about love, and togetherness, and helping one another and being part of a team. Now she realized just how ridiculous it all really was. How she didn't really believe any of it, and often debated if she ever actually had or if she'd instead simply forced herself to because that sort of life was what was expected of a woman her age. Either way, it didn't matter now. Sure, soon enough the hate mail would come, the backlash would hit, but until then, Natasha Simple didn't care. All that mattered now was the sweet stench of burning memories filling the cool night air around her. And...what was that other smell? The lawn! She realized the can had tipped over and caught fire to the lawn in a minimal capacity, but she quickly started stomping on it hard and fast as she could. Even when you try and do right, the world makes it go wrong, she figured. |
About
Public Access follows Natasha Simple, a self qualified "self help" instructor with her own show on local public access. But when she makes a sudden and surprising statement on air, her entire life changes, for the better...and the worse. Archives
December 2022
|