The Mind's Eye

[Jacky]

The first green of the spring corn gave the land a mellower look than Don Gaffney was used to. At a distance it seemed lush - a few early drones stitched the air above its swaying, giving the fiels a somnolent appearance. In two month's time all this would be burnt to stubble by the sun, the earth bared and...
The doorbell rang for the third time, but it was the first time Mort Rainey noticed it. The sharp buzz drew his eyes from the laptop screen and toward the window, as if he could see the person behind the frontdoor from there like he always could, back in Derby. It was rediculous though, he realized with a faint feeling of amusement. His new 'office' was on the second floor, in a house in Livermore Falls, and even here nobody put a frontdoor at the height of the second floor.
He saved his work, got up and avoided the several boxes of junk as he made his way to the stairs.

The house had turned out to be a mess when he arrived three weeks ago. The roof wasn't completely waterproof anymore, so there had been several pots and jars on the floors to catch the rainwater as it dripped in. He had hired someone to fix the roof, and took care of the inside of the house himself by painting the walls back to their original light colour and removing the twenty layers of dust that appeared in the previous year when the house had been vacant. It looked better after that. The rest of the time he had been moving stuff from Tashmore Lake to Livermore Falls. Furniture, carpets, his bookshelves and every one of his books, all of it. All the stuff was here now, but not all of it was unpacked yet, and avoiding boxes was a necessity still.

The move had been pretty sudden. He had grown tired of Tashmore Lake, of the people, and the false accusations. He was blamed for the disappearance of his ex-wife Amy and her new boyfriend, Ted. The police was sure that he had murdered them. Rediculous, of course. Eventhough he felt a grudge against Amy for leaving him, and .. quite honestly, he hated Teddy's guts, he wouldn't *kill* them for it. He didn't know why everyone was so sure of it. Tashmore Lake had fallen victim to some member of the Crazy-People-Tribe who had commited more murders, for crying out loud. Tom Greenleaf, the cop from New York, even Mort's own cat Bump. But no one seemed to wonder why the hell Mort would kill his own cat, and only company, in that godforsaken place. It was easy to point fingers, he guessed, and unlucky circumstances had put him on the other end of the town's finger.
He didn't have to think twice when Herb Creekmore, his literary agent since forever, mentioned the auction on this house.

He made it to the frontdoor just in time before the other person would turn and leave.
"Mister Rainey?" The man in white mail-order uniform held out a paper to sign. "Package for you, need an autograph."
"Yeah, sure." He took the pen and paper and scribbled his name. When he looked up again he spotted his next-door neighbour, who waved at him cheerfully before she walked up her lawn.

In this place nobody knew, talked, or gossipped about the Tashmore Accident. He wasn't guilty here, wasn't blamed. He felt like the guy from the Eagles' song; New Kid in Town. And it felt good to leave those imaginary skelletons in a closet behind him.

[Jacksblackpearl]

"hmhmhmhmmmhmm.... fricking key..." Carolina stopped humming since the occupation of trying to open the frontdoor to her new house was taking up her full attention. After a few minutes of pushing, kicking and cursing the door swiftly opened as if it only needed the magic words "Please open".
Stepping inside she remembered again why this place gave her the creeps. It was dark and old. Spiderwebs provided a haunted-house kind of look and the smell certainly wasn't great either. Buuut it was cheap and she really needed a place in this town, especially now that mr. Rainey himself had moved here. At first this seemed like a great hiding place for the journalist but it had now become her ticket into Rainey's piece of mind, into his life. Into ,hopefully, everything she needed to know and find out about her subject.

Carolina put her bag on the dusty couch which she had bought along with the place. Some ferniture came included unfortunatly for her.
"Okay.. let's see.." She grabbed a sented candle out of the back and lit it. A vanilla sent slowly started filling the livingroom "That'll do for now" She mumbled as she unpacked her laptop and placed it upon a dark wooden low table. She plugged the wires into the wall and back into her laptop then she turned it on.
"Come on.. work work work.. work already.." impatiently she tapped her fingers on the ground where she had sat down. "connect..just.. connect.." She observed the internetchannel trying to make a connection, once it finally connected she went to her email, immediatly mailing her new boss with the subject "Freelance Journalist settled in Main".

while she was typing an instant messenger message popped up.

-Harry Beaver:
Hey sexy stereotype journalist, settled yet? Any signs of your new topic yet?
-Just in Time for the TIMES!:
Hey Har, it's a miracle, this town has got internet. No sign of Rainey yet, but I'm sure my sexy journalist look will make him come out of his hiding in no time

Carolina looked up when she heard a truck pull over.

-Just in Time for the TIMES:
Gotta go, movers are here..yay..
-Harry Beaver:
Make them work hard honey

[Jacky]

Later that afternoon Mort stopped working when it was nearing four in the afternoon and he realized he was forgetting lunch. Which then reminded him he still need to do grocery shopping before he could eat anything at all.
Small communities like Livermore Falls usually had one or two supermarkets, and he figured this was a good time to combine a walk with finding either of those. After putting his shoes on he left the house in quite a good mood.
It was nearing autumn and the wind was pretty chilly already. He didn't care much though, he liked the way that would clear his head - blow the dust of the million thoughts he had for his story. It was going along well, and he was sure his agent was gonna be happy to find him writing again.

As he passed the street he avoided getting run over by kids on skates or the occasional bicycle on the sidewalk. As he turned toward the centre he noticed the small diningroom he had spotted before. "LEO'S DINER" was spelled on the window, in old yellow letters.
It was better than making his own food, anyway.
He went in and took of his wooly hat thing (...the one he always wore before, too) before he took place on one of the stools by the bar.

[Jacksblackpearl]

(de algemeen bekende muts :clap: )

Carolina opened the door and let the movers into her house. They were carrying the first few boxes filled with her stuff. She actually had to leave New York for this assignment which really sucked since her appartment in New York had the best view ever for a fairly cheap price (impossible to ever purchase again).
If you want something you have to go to the end of the world to get it. Nothing comes flying towards you just like that. She sighed "Just put the boxes labelled bedroom upstairs and the furniture in the livingroom" she instructed the guys before they'd get confused.

After about an hour of sandy workmen's shoes covering the floor of the house they left, leaving Carol behind in a house now filled with boxes and disordered furniture, still making the place look creepily empty.
".. let's go out to diner tonight" She mumbled, not feeling comfortable in this place at all. Maybe it would come in time though.. it had to.. She couldn't have given up on her old life for a new job just to feel bad where she was now.

The small town of Livermore Falls didn't give much variety as to where to have diner. Carolina walked into the street which contained the "major" shops of the town. A supermarket or two, two diners and one hideous clothes-shop.
"Okay... Leo's Diner or Dorky Porky....." she wondered out loud "..Leo better have extremely good food.." she muttered and walked towards the diner.
Right before she entered the diner she spotted a telephone in front of the diner, together with a phonebook. ..he must be in the book right ? everyone's in there..
Without thinking twice she grabbed the phonebook and started looking up the one name that could make or break her career. Mort Rainey.
In her attempt to find him she glanced at the diner when her eye got caught on one single person. him. He was right there, in front of her nose, and she hadn't seen him.
okay..okay.. stay calm.. this is a piece of cake. He's there, you're here. observe him, just observe for a while..

With her heart beating in her throat and shaking hands Carolina opened the door of the diner, about to share a room with a murderer..

[Jacky]

( ;D )

After receiving a menu from the lady who served the place, Mort pushed his glasses further on his nose to read it all. There were like twelve different dishes and that was it. A corner of his mouth twitched in the realization that it was quite like this at Bowie’s, the only diner in Tashmore Lake. A small place, one or two people serving, family business. And only just enough variation in the food to keep the people from ignoring the place fully.

It was this kind of place that made him feel home though. He lived in bigger cities for the greater part of his life, but at some point the peace and quiet of small communities lured him like a moth to the light. Herb, his agent, had joked about that when he chose to move here again. He said writers were a different breed, the one that had enough excitement in their heads and thus avoided any more by preferably living in the middle of nowhere. Mort was inclined to agree willingly.

When the lady came to take his order he chose a random number from the menu. She didn’t turn to leave yet though.
”Aren’t you the writer?” The lady asked, scribbling his choice on the greasy booklet she carried. “You’re new here, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. Yeah that’s me.” He scratched the side of his nose, feeling a feeling grow in his gut. A wary feeling, as if expecting accusations and the ‘friendly’ advice to leave this place again.
The lady smiled though. “Welcome, then. My son’s a sucker for your books.”
The gut feeling faded, almost making place for a frown until he thought better of it. “Uh.. Oh.” He chose for an unsure smile instead. “…Thanks.”
She smiled, “Your dinner will be right up.” She said, before turning to leave.
He looked after the lady for a second, before looking back to the menu in thoughts. He might start to like this place, after all.

[Jacksblackpearl]

Her heart had skipped a beat when she heard the waitress ask Rainey about his profession. She was almost certain that at that moment he would have been recognized as the murderer of Amy and Ted. She thought she wasn't the only one who had recognized him and to be honest she was afraid that the waitress would have blown her cover.
Rainey didn't seem like the steady person who could handle comments on the murders. In fact, the way Carolina saw him, as he was sitting in the diner waiting for his order, she thought he would get up and run if that woman had said anything about the fact that he could have been The murderer.

nothing's wrong. You can still get to him first. Don't worry

Carolina observed Mort a little while longer and then shoved her chair backwards and then grabbed her bag. She opened it and looked inside, staring at her little recorder. "We can do this. This is a good beginning". She pushed the Record button and closed her bag.
Just when she was ready to get up and go to meet her target the 'lovely' waitress walked up to Carolina's table.
"Good afternoon ma'am, are you ready to order?

goddammit! with a clear sigh Carolina sat back down on her chair and glanced at Rainey from behind the waitress. Hoping she didn't drew too much attention to herself she had no choice but to postpone her quest for the truth.

[Jacky]

When he got his dinner later, Mort thanked the lady who gave him another radiant smile. It's as if she was trying a little *too* hard to make the new stranger in town feel at ease and welcomed. It's pretty stereotypical, the warm-hearted fat lady with open arms in a small community where books are still more frequently regarded than tv.

Mort poked at his dinner and had some, while being more or less distracted by the newspaper that was on the table when he came here - which he folded open and started reading. It was the regional paper, not so interesting, but at least it was something to read during dinner (a habit he picked up after The Divorce).

[Jacksblackpearl]

Obviously the diner-lady was trying too hard to make this murderer feel at home. Did she not read the papers? Did news not spread further then the borders of New York ?
A little stunned Carolina tried to recover from the interruption of the fat woman. Her diner,A stake, potatoes and something that sounded like a disgusting gravy, was now ordered. It had to take at least ten more minutes before they would have heated it up in the oven.
Long enough to make a good start of welcoming this guy in 'my' new town aswell..

She once again raised out of her chair, took her bag along and this time headed towards Mort's table, and she actually arrived there.
She stood still in front of him, a table and one chair standing in between them. Carolina could see eat his food ungraciously as he seemed to be hiding behind the news paper. Maybe that part was to actually hide his tablemanners, though the hiding from her failed.

"Enjoying your stay in yer new town?" She broke the silence between him and her, or maybe just tried to get his attention in the first place.
Her way of going about this was still unclear even to her. At first she wanted to keep it safe and play the nice friendly neightbour but she knew that wouldn't work for her. He was a murderer. He was her story, nothing more then that and that's how she thought she needed to handle him aswell.

[Jacky]

Automatically I finish reading the sentence before I lower the newspaper to regard whoever spoke up. To my surprise it's not the fat diner lady, but a younger girl instead, someone I hadn't seen around in town yet. I adjust my glasses so I can see her clearer. She doesn't look like she's from here, though I immediately realize the irony of that thought. I'm not either, so how can I judge? It's just the thing that she looks like a city kind of girl, I guess. I've seen both countryside and city people, and I'd put her in the last category by a first impression.

"Hi." I tell her, folding the paper neatly on the table. "Yeah, thanks." I answer her question then.

I kinda wonder why she came up here in the first place, so I attempt a polite smile. "Uh.. Can I help you?" I try.

[Jacksblackpearl]

"good... why did you leave your first town in the first place ?" She asked without answering his question first.
what am I? Who am I ? How can he help me ? .. f*ck.. telling him I'm a writer will obviously make him stop talking! .. think.. think THIIIIIIIIINK!!!
".. I'm .. shall we say..eh Fan" She mumbled, without trying to give his question too much attention. She needed her answers first before she let him know her identity.