Cain and Jennie - Stages of Grief

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While beginning his survey work, Cain runs into Jennie, who's somewhat the worse for wear. There are threats of lake-throwing and the like.



Cain gave another glance to the blueprints before measuring out a survey line from the corner of the mansion. Just as he'd predicted, about thirty feet out, the ground took a slight uphill grade, and an uneven one at that. Building an extension to the house was going to take some serious landscaping. Lowering and leveling the grade, laying new foundation, and all that while staying in the peculiar limitations of the unique zoning laws the mansion fell under. A combination of a private residence, boarding school, and historical building, Charles had explained once that years back he'd managed to get a special zoning permit to expand on the house's original layout - although the parts under the school were definitely not covered by any zoning laws.

He turned towards his toolbox to retrieve his surveying equipment when he noticed the disheveled young girl walking around the corner, nose in a book, headed straight for one of the shallow ditches he'd dug. "Hey!" he barked out in warning. "Watch where you're going!"

The girl jerked at the sound of the voice, narrowly avoiding plummeting headfirst into the ditch in front of her. So improbable was the close call that the girl could only be Jennie. Jennie who was sweaty and had the look of someone who hadn't seen the inside of a shower or sleep in a while.

"S-sorry. Mr. Mr. Marko." Jennie said.

"Yeah, well, sorry ain't gonna bandage up that fool head of yours when you dump yourself ass-over-teakettle," Cain grumbled, stabbing the survey pole into the ground. He looked at Jennie, who'd obviously seen better days. "Hell's wrong with you. You look like you ain't slept in weeks. That Laverne boy chewing on folks again?"

The girl blinked, startled. "Wha? No. He doesn't have the mouth thingies so. Just. Ew. Um." Jennie brushed her bangs out of her eyes, not even bothering to still the slight tremor. "I walked to Poughkeepsie. And back."

"No," Cain chided gently, "I walk to Poughkeepsie and back, because I can do it in under three hours. You, on the other hand." He stepped forward and took a sniff, then grimaced. "You definitely smell like it. This one of those things where I'm gonna have to knock you upside the head and cart your ass down to medical, or you wanna convince me you ain't gone crazy?"

"No! I'm not crazy. Didn't want to sleep. So I started walking. Walked until I got too hot and then turned around and came back. I don't want to dream, my dreams are terrible. They don't even look like themselves anymore." The girl looked at the almanac in her hands, the pages fluttering slightly in the breeze. "I'm starting to forget what they looked like," Jennie said softly, before shaking her head. She looked back up at Cain, eyes bright in spite of the dark circles that ringed them.

"I was memorizing things. Go on. Name a person. I can tell you their last words."

Half torn between bodily carrying Jennie down to the doctors and throwing her into the lake, Cain settled for just standing firm, folding his arms across his chest. "Thomas Jefferson," he said, humoring her.

"'Is it the fourth?' Died 4th of July, 1826. Not as funny as John Addams. His was: "Thomas Jefferson still survives." Unfortunately Thomas Jefferson had died early that same day. I liked General John Sedgwick, his was: "They couldn't kill an elephant at this dist--" and then it stops. Because they killed him. Give me another one. Or name a country. Above the M's please, because that's as far as I got."

Cain arched an eyebrow. "You walked to Poughkeepsie and back reading the almanac?" Cautiously, he crouched down to be at Jennie's eye level and looked closely at her. "When's the last time you ate? Slept?" He sniffed again, wrinkling his nose. "Christ, changed clothes, even."

"Well, letsee," Jennie reached into her back pocket and removed a cellphone. She flipped it open to check the time. "I walked 42 miles there, and then the 42 back. So 84 miles in 45 hours. I think I set a record."

Reaching one arm out for Jennie, Cain paused, then drew it back. He reached into his toolbox and put on a large leather glove, then leaned over and picked Jennie up by the back of her shirt. "Okay, little crazy girl. Now, you can either get the dunking in the lake, the sponge bath from Dr. Voght, or if you've got some good excuse for going plumb loco, I might just send you off to the showers before I tell the docs you've broke your brain."

Jennie dangled from Cain's large fist like a stray kitten caught by the scruff of the neck. She blinked at him for a few moments. "It's because they're gone, isn't it? Forge and Crystal and Medusa. People should stop rooming with me. My roommates all tend to die horribly. Can you put me down now? My underarms hurt."

With a sigh, Cain dumped Jennie unceremoniously into a soft pile of dirt - it wasn't as if she was going to get any dirtier. "Figured it'd come down to this," he said solemnly, brushing his hands off. "Ain't much to say except 'accidents happen'."

The girl made no move to remove herself from the pile of dirt. She'd walked a long way without stopping, and now she could feel the exhaustion in every cell of her body. "Yes, accidents happen," Jennie said. "As do murders and strokes and all other manner of bad things. Doesn't matter the how or the why in the end. All that matters is now there's a big hole in the universe where a person used to be." She put her head on her knee. "There are too many holes in my universe," she said dully.

"You move on, or you don't." Cain stated, moving back to straighten his survey pole. "Everybody's gonna die sometime, simple fact of life." He stopped looking down at himself, and laughed briefly. "Well, most everyone's gonna. Fact is, you're right. It don't matter if it's Magneto dropping a skyscraper on your head or your roommate ODing on crack or a tornado hits your house. You're here, and for whatever reason, they ain't. Liable to drive yourself crazy trying to find a reason where there ain't one."

"You think I don't know that?" The girl snapped, with more vehemence than necessary. "I fucking know that! You go and you go and you go until you can't go anymore. I had to take a break, I had to have a moment, because I'm allowed to have moments. I don't know why they're gone and I don't care. They're gone. Finto. Ex post facto. Pick up and move on!"

Cain stood and watched Jennie's tirade for a moment. "Well, maybe the walk did you some good," he finally said.

"I'm exhuasted. And hot." Jennie said.

"Go hit the showers," Cain ordered, jerking a thumb towards the door. "Then see the doc. You look worse than exhausted."

"Yessir." Jennie rubbed at her eyes, smeaing a line of dirt along her cheekbone. Getting up was almost a monumental effort, but somehow she managed it. Shaky-limbed like a newborn calf. She didn't tell Cain that her plans included the shower or sleeping. Whichever came first. The doctor's would wait.