Bewegt

by Nienor

I wouldn't have thought a thing about what Dom and Billy said about Elijah's frequent absences, if Elijah hadn't turned up the next day with a black eye. I mean, a young man has to sow his wild oats, and Elijah's lived a sheltered life, so any reasonable observer would expect him to rebel upon leaving the nest. I always reasoned he had a good enough head on his shoulders to handle it-- with a little influential guidance from yours truly. I'm not his mother, so I can give him a little nudge in the right direction every now and then without causing any kind of contretemps.

But this... this bothers me. The injury is just too much of a coincidence, coming exactly when it does.

There's one good thing about the matter; they can joke all they want, but it's not something involving Orli-- he's a few hundred kilometers from here, stranded in a mudslide with the other Sean. That puts my mind at ease; it almost makes me believe Elijah's flip anecdote about a little girl and a big boyfriend.

Except....

Except for a lot of infinitesimal things, evidence that's been building up gradually over time. Intuition tells me something else is going on here, and that black eye says it's something I need to put a stop to.

"Lij!"

He slows down to let me catch up; he looks bad. He's got his hands in his pockets and his hat pulled down low to hide the bruise. It's still a downpour and people are beginning to joke about Noah's Ark. I fall in at his side. "I've got two tickets to La Boheme in Aukland," I pull them out and flash them at him. They're all I've got; I'd have gotten tickets to a rock concert if I could, but it was such short notice nothing was available, and I don't think he'd have bought any prevaricated stories about me and Christine and our plans to go see a punk band falling through. "Christine and I were going to use them, but she doesn't want to travel in the rain. So I thought of you."

His mouth quirks with amusement, and I realize my attempt at deception is transparent. "Thanks, Sean, but maybe somebody else would like to go. I'll catch you another time." He keeps walking, his gait just the faintest bit stiff, if you're suspicious enough to look for it.

"Come on," I wheedle. "You know Dom or Billy won't like it the way you would. They're philistines!"

"Maybe Philippa or Fran would want to go." His chin is set, even though he's smiling, and I know that look-- he's dug in his heels.

"They'd spend the whole evening scribbling on the script," I wheedle, knowing it's futile. "Come on. You can't have a date; not with the way you ended the evening last night."

His face closes up, shutters closing over any expression in his eyes. I ignore it and slap his shoulders, watching him carefully for reflexive recoil. None comes; either he's very well controlled, or he's not got any more bruises there. Funny, that. You'd think your shoulders would be one of the first areas to get injured if you got knocked down in a fight.

"Yeah, and that's why I'd be shitty company tonight." Rain drips off the brim of his baseball cap. "Seriously, Sean. I'm gonna get a good hot shower, stay in, watch a movie or something, learn some dialogue, and get some sleep."

"Suit yourself." I back off, defeated for the nonce. "Maybe I'll come over and join--"

"Sean!" He's exasperated; I've pushed him too far. "Do the words I WANT TO BE ALONE mean anything to you?"

I think about playing Sam at him, and decide against it; he's brittle somehow, not ready to joke. Instead I step in and touch his temple just below the purple, swollen welt. He knows it's all about this; he's been cognizant of that for some time, I suspect. "Lij..."

"Nobody's gonna beat me up while you take Christine to La Boheme." He shakes his head, stepping away from my hand.

"Lij, what's going on?" I smile my most disarming smile-- warm, trustworthy, urging him to confide in me.

"Nothing, Sean. You're too uptight, do you know that?" He slaps my arm firmly. "Settle down. Take Christine to the opera. Knock off some of the caffeine." His hand drops and he saunters off. I let him go, but I don't let it go; I'm too worried to take this philosophically, with a shrug and a smile.

There is, of course, a good way to test whether he's prevaricating or not. More than one, actually.

I hang back and watch him into his trailer. He waves at me on the step, making it abundantly clear that I'm a lousy surveillance agent, and vanishes inside.

I have a credit card in my wallet that would open his lock; I learned that from Dom and Billy-- no lock keeps them out, and I watched them once when they forgot the keys to our makeup trailer. Still, that would be an unwarranted invasion. I find myself a comfortable place out of the worst of the rain to watch Lij's door and see if he goes out after all.

But speak of the devil, and he will appear-- soon Mr. Boyd and Mr. Monaghan "happen along," very casually. Summoned by Elijah's cell phone, no doubt.

"Sean! I always said you didn't have the good sense to come in out of the rain!" If Billy bounced anymore, I really would believe he was Pippin, and the youngest of us all.

"Shut up."

They give one another a sly glance. "What are you up to? If you're waiting for the northern lights you're in the wrong hemisphere." Dom is aggressive, his heavy brows low with disapproval.

"Very funny, Dom." He and Lij are pretty close; it surprised me initially to realize he hadn't been placed in Elijah's confidence.

"You can't stand out here in the sun and the rain, keeping watch like the bloody Argonath." Dom's tone cuts sharp. "He's a grown man, and if he gets into a scuffle or two, it'll be good for him."

"You don't believe that any more than I do."

"Well, we do know you can't stay out here forever." Billy shakes his head. "He's learned his lesson, Sean. He won't go flirting anymore without doing a bit of checking first."

I give him a brief, insincere smile.

"He doesn't think that's how Lij got hurt, knowin' him," Dom eyes me, shrewd. "Where'd you get that idea, Sean?"

"Better to be safe than sorry." Under Dom's sharp eyes, I'm starting to feel self-conscious.

"You're not Sam. You're not his keeper. And he may not haul you through his window with a bonk on the head from a stick, but he's not above calling the local constabulary, either." Dom's voice mocks mine for a moment, deliberately offensive.

"He wouldn't. He'd call you two instead, to lure me off." No misunderstandings there; our traded smiles are sharp and not entirely friendly.

I catch a motion out of the corner of my eye-- I almost miss it, distracted by the two of them, but I crane my head to look around Dom and see Viggo taking the steps up to Lij's trailer two at a time and letting himself inside.

"There, you see? He's perfectly safe. Viggo's probably got the same idea you do." Billy sounds relieved.

I have to admit I'm relieved too; especially after I ran into them outside yesterday, when they were fishing. Viggo would make a better substitute paternal influence than I do, perhaps; he's got the authority of age on his side.

"You'd better hustle." Dom's smile still isn't entirely friendly; it's triumphant. "I saw Christine and let it slip you were going to surprise her with those tickets."

"If it turns out we have re-film Farmer Maggot's fields, I'll make sure to land on top of you when we roll down the cliff," I tell him, and with one last glance at Lij's trailer, I give up and do as Dom suggested.

Round one to Elijah. I've let it go, this time. But if he turns up hurt again, there's going to be hell to pay.

I'll find out who did it, and they'll answer to me.

-finis-

Email comments to mailto:vivianedesblanc@gmail.com

Home