It had been a few days since she ran into the cop at the coffee shop, he had not gotten any doughnuts and that was slightly disappointing but she had gotten two, which made up for it, somewhat. She would of never met the man except that the place was so packed and he looked to the be safest in the place. Not that she thought all cops were good guys, she knew that cops had some that were more crooked then the creek back on her daddy’s plantation. But she had gotten directions from him to the largest cemetery around. Of course, that had gotten her a strange look, but she figured that maybe she would get a feeling or a hint or something if her dear momma had passed on, bless her.
Her old Chevy was getting a lot of use on this trip into New Orleans. Thankfully the engine had been completely rebuilt and given a fresh oil change before her trip. Following the directions from the cop she was making her way merrily towards the cemetery, well as merrily as a girl that was getting over a stomach pumping a few days ago, and her mother was missing, someone just shoot her dog, and she could be a country song. After she got close to the cemetery she found a parking place to leave her truck.
Slowly the door opened, creaking with the movement, which had her thinking she was going to have to get some WD-40. Black cowboy boots hit the pavement first as she slid out, moving out of the way of the truck, shutting the door a bit hard, then using the key to lock the door. Hands moving to the hem of her cut off shorts, tugging them down just a bit, before her right hand moved to tuck her wallet securely into her back pocket. Cell phone slightly bulged out her right front pocket, this time it was not on vibrate, though she wasn’t expecting any calls. Black tank top, with a teal blue bra strap that was playing havoc with the spaghetti strap from her tank. A soft grumble before a shrug of her shoulders, and forward she went, walking along the large black gate. And into the entrance, where she would just start to wander, hoping, wishing, praying, for some sort of revelation.
Sadly that revelation did not come with in five minutes of entering the cemetery, but she had come across a crossroads of sorts. She could go left, right, straight or off to the middle of the straight and right. Pondering, if anyone happened to catch a peek at Miss Georgia Grace, her left hand was posed against her left hip, her right hand was lifted her fingers were all closed except her pointer which was pressed to the corner of her mouth, as her head bobbed between the different paths.
The oldest cemetery in the city, that was what she had asked for, St. Louis #1 just outside of the French Quarter. Well, that was where he directed her to. What she would be up to there, he was curious. Of course, based off the most likely suspicion, he believed she was probably an Animator, or possibly even a full-fledged Necromancer.
So, of course, he would keep tabs on her, and find out when she headed out there. When she had, he would watch from a distance. Then, she would merely stand there. A few minutes passed, and still he'd wait, but after a while, he got tired of it. So, out of his hiding spot he came, walking along the path till he came near to her.
"So, ma'am... if you're here for some sort of animator work, I would suppose you have some sort of notorized order to do so? Or at least, I would hope so."
As he said this, while approaching her, he had his arms folded over his uniformed body. Eventually, he'd come to lean against a wall
The sun was in the middle of the sky, it was not yet to late in the afternoon, nor was it anything else. Nor was she expecting anyone to be out and about in the cemetery. At least not right in the general area she was in, because it had been rather quiet, almost to eerily quiet. A part of her should of expected Jett to show up, because the way he looked at her when she got directions to the cemetery should have been a dead give away. But her mind did not work that way.
Nor had she noticed she was not alone, not until the voice came at, although the words had her blinking. Oh yes! She remembered his name. “Hi Jett. I am not an animator…I don’t believe. What exactly does an animator do?” She figured that’s what you called those people that drew cartoons and brought them to life, and she most definitely did not draw cartoons.
“Do you get a lot of people drawing cartoons in the graveyard?” Her head tilted a bit, the confusion on her face, before she looked at him. He seemed to be accusing her of something though with that tone, and that did not make sense to her, because she had no tools to be drawing such things. And it wasn’t the middle of the night, she hadn’t just snuck into the cemetery,
She glanced around the paths again where she stood, leading the different ways, before glancing back to Jett. “I am just trying to figure out which path I wish to explore.” That was true enough, what was it with cops making a girl feel nervous even when she had not done anything wrong, that she knew of.
He didn't want to generalize, especially when it came to an attractive woman. But when someone was ignorant or naive about something, he couldn't help himself. He heaved a light sigh, as he walked around the stones, closer to her, glancing at the stones as he did so before he got nearer to her.
"Necromancy, miss. Animating the dead."
He stated it simply, forgoing an answer to every little question she asked, and merely directed his attention to the main point of the questions. Once he was beside her, he tilted his head, and gave her a glance over. Playing stupid? Or was she actually unknowing of such things.
"What is it, exactly, that you are looking for in such an old graveyard. Surely, no one you knew is buried here." Could someone forget where a family member was buried?
Whether or not she was attractive shouldn’t have anything to do with it. But hey if she could of used that to her advantage she would of happily done so. Not everyone knew what a animator was. And in truth, was not the person that did the cartoons an animator? Maybe it wouldn’t work in the graveyard, but hey maybe someone was making a creepy cartoon, and they had upset the local authorities, and so they had to have a permit. There was more then one way to skin a fish, and more then one meaning for the word.
When he said what he meant by animator, she gave a little shiver, and her eyes got a tad bit wide. “You think that I am out here to play doc to a dead body?” Her head started to shake back and forth a few times, almost as if such a thought was a bit repulsive, before looking at him. “I wouldn’t even know how to go about doin’ such a thing if it did cross my pretty little head….not that it would. I have enough on my plate without adding ghosts.”
She still had not moved from her spot, not leaning towards any of the paths at the crossroads that she currently stood at, even when he moved towards her. Surely a man of the law wasn’t going to accost her in the middle of the day for simply being in the cemetery. She looked down a moment, before slowly lifting her head, and looking at Jett. “I might know someone buried here.” She bit her lower lip. “My ma’s been missing neigh on a month now, and I am running out of ideas, I thought that maybe…welll.” She gave a helpless little shrug of her shoulders, a sniffle, before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.
It wasn’t like the cops didn’t know that Miss Georgia Grace’s mom was still in the missing file, even though no one would say to her that the likely hood that she would be found alive and well, was dimming more every day. The information she had given him, wasn’t anything that was not public knowledge. The news still talked about it at least a small amount of time every two days. Sometimes they flashed up pictures of Georgia Grace as she was Marie Michelle’s only child. A few of the local channels even ran a more in depth story, about the search and the efforts, and the reward for information leading to the finding of Marie Michelle.
Except for her one night of wanting to forget what was going on, which thank the Lord above it did not end up on any news channels or on the society pages, she had been holding everything together just well. But being treated like she was a criminal for walking into a cemetery, and mind you this cemetery was rather beautiful for being such a place, well, it was a bit…much.
Lifting her head, and turning her greenish hazel and brown eyes upon Jett, she spoke softly in that honeyed tone of hers. “Maybe sometime when your not on the clock, you could show me a place to get some good sweet tea around here?” Then she glanced between the paths that were available for her to continue down, still indecisive.
Her response was enough. Ok, so she wasn't an animator or necromancer, but his mind was now alight with new ideas of what her deal was. Her direct response to the idea showed a bit of distaste, and so his mind worked over on that. He would accept her words however, and nod lightly, reaching out to pat her on the shoulder.
"Sorry for the insinuation, miss. It's my job to keep a look out though, you understand?"
The subject of her missing mother was something he knew full well about. Of course the story had first risen up before he was a cop, but he had heard all about it on the news, and from other officers.
"If your mother is missing, I sincerely doubt you'll be finding her here." He said, moving his arm out to display the graveyard. "If she was found dead, and buried here, I'm certain someone would have alerted you to let you know of the fact."
Everyone was allowed to want it all to end, to not want to remember anymore. He went through that himself for years, though he wasn't trying to forget that someone was missing, rather he wanted to forget his entire life up until this point, pretty much. With his arm around her shoulders, he tried to lead her out of the graveyard, since she wouldn't be finding anything here. There were other reasons, but as a cop, he tried to keep his mind focused on what really mattered.
When she got quiet, he got quiet, and he glanced towards her, through that small distance between them. He was about to say something, to break the silence, but then she did, and asked about sweet tea.
"Well, I'm no expert on sweet tea. not much of a tea drinker, myself. But, perhaps we can catch a little luck..." he paused... "...if you wish to join me, that is, for dinner tonight?"
Maybe her first impression of the cop wasn’t correct. He sure seemed to change once he realized she really didn’t know what an animator was, well except those that did do the cartoons. He quit looking at like her like she was going to bust some of the old gravestones, or dig up one of the newer plots. Even such a thought would make her shiver.
The pat on the shoulder was not expected, but there was not a flinch, for she often felt hands upon her shoulders in some fashion to get her attention at social functions. “I understand that you want to do your job correctly, and that you can never be to careful.” She would give him that. “You’ll catch more flies with honey.” Not that he was trying to get flies, but the point was there.
She swallowed as she watched his arm to point at the graveyard as a whole. “Unless she’s in a unmarked grave somewhere.” A soft sigh slipped past her lips. “It’s the fact that no one knows what’s going on. I am just looking for a sign of some sort. I was hoping if I wandered about I might…feel…something.” There was hope in her voice, because she was not ready to give up on her ma. Even if that meant hanging around in cemeteries.
Then his arm slid around her shoulders, and she felt him trying to turn her around, to go towards the entrance that was the exit as well. She let him turn her around, but she wasn’t in a hurry to leave the cemetery. Nor was it said why he wanted her out of the graveyard, which it seemed he did.
“Oh, it would be delightful to have dinner with you tonight. What time are you aiming for?” She didn’t even have a clue what time it was now. And she figured having dinner with him would sure beat having dinner at Dogwood. But then she looked over at the man, her voice was soft, which did nothing to the honey quality it held. “Do you think it would be okay if I stay here a bit longer? I promise I won’t cause any trouble.” Not saying trouble wouldn’t find her but she knew until things worked out that she could not do anything to drag her name, which was linked to those of The Cause, down into the mud. Old money could only buy so much.
Not that Jett could really tell her what to do. He could use the whole I’m a cop you have to leave the graveyard, but that did not mean that she wouldn’t just come back at another time…another time that might not be as good of a time to be visiting a graveyard.
She had a way of putting things, that made him think there was something altogether unique about her. Now, it was true that she was a unique individual, with how she viewed things, but then there was the constant inkling in everything she said that would suggest she had some sort of unique ability. And that was what he was trying to figure out. What was it?
"Well, I'm off duty at 5, so around 6 or 7 would be good, I suppose."
He'd still try to walk her out of the graveyard, for her own good. There was no benefit walking around, waiting for a feeling if she wasn't in some way connected to the dead. If she wasn't an animator, or a necromancer, she wouldn't get any such feelings.
"What sort of feeling are you hoping to get?" He asked, looking her over, trying to kindly show her that there wasn't anything she could do here. He'd be willing to help her, but he wasn't going to be able to do anything in the graveyard either. "I have no issues with you hanging around, but what can you possibly gain?"
She was in three words, Simply Georgia Grace, even if she had that, something special quality to her. She had been told since she was little that she was special. To bad it was never from her pa, it seemed that everyone else had tried to make up for that lack of fatherly pride in the young girl.
Her head gave a small nod at his words, about him getting off of work at five. But then she felt her lips quirking, “So are we meeting at six or seven?” She needed to know the time so she knew when to be ready, because it seemed she was always eager to escape from Dogwood, the people there, well they were nice and all but they were not her kind of people. They put out a nice spread for the meals, but the company was lacking, and the thought of having dinner out away from them, was enough to put a lil happy skip in her step. “Oh! And where should we meet?” That would be something good to have figured out as well, or you would have one person on street A and another on street B and they would never meet on street C.
She wasn’t looking for that sort of feeling, just one of those lightening bolts saying, turn back, or you know she’s gone, or something! But she felt the gentle pressure on her shoulders, and her head turned away to look up to Jett. “I…I guess your right.” She said a bit with a thoughtfulness, as if she needed to think of her plan over. Soft sigh slipped out, and her body shuddered just a bit, with his arm across her shoulder he would feel the small quiver. “No…nothing….”
She would let him walk her to the entrance of the cemetery if he was still trying, no more digging in her heels or refusing to budge. Not that if he had really wished it she could of stopped him, standing all of 5’2” the boots only adding a inch or two.
Daddy issues he could understand, fully. His arm remained around her as he walked with her, guiding her to the exit. When she began to shudder of course, he would pull her more tightly to his own body, and brace her upon him, using his strength to support her. His eyes diverted to the ground, watching her steps, just to make sure if he would have to go the next step further or not, and carry her.
She may have been a tiny 5'2", and 5'3" with the shoes, but he was a solid 5'7". He was no mountain, short for a man, but he made up for it with spunk, attitude, and plenty of training in the martial arts. He'd guide her to the exit, as he smiled lightly.
"How about we settle on six then, I'll pick you up... where? Hmm..." Not owning a car did make it hard for him to just pick her up and take her somewhere, but he was a inner city boy after all, living on his own. "How about Bourbon Street? Plenty of places to choose from to eat there."
He let everything else slide at this point, not wanting to stress her any further. He got his point across, and he would help her in the future if she was that focused on it. In time, he was sure something would turn up. As they stepped out of the cemetary, his hand slid from her shoulder, to lightly run along her back, to help soothe her.
-- Edited by JETT BLACK on Tuesday 9th of August 2011 02:14:49 AM
Everyone had issues, some people just hid them better then others, as the case with Georgia Grace. Sometimes she allowed herself to be easily guided as was the case at the moment, while they went back the way she had came, only now she wasn’t venturing into the cemetery to search for anything. He wouldn’t have to carry her, because she was perfectly capable of making her way out of the place, even though she had shuddered just a bit.
Georgia Grace would never make fun of someone for being short. Not just because it wasn’t the proper and right thing to do, and with being a pip squeak herself, but because it wasn’t nice, and for the most time she was always nice, nor did it really cross her mind. If he happened to be super tall, that might get a comment out of her.
She might of misunderstood the man, but she gave a gentle nod of her head. “Six o’clock. I will meet you on Bourbon street and we can go from there, the place I am staying, well…I wouldn’t ask anyone to come out there.” A soft laugh, because Dogwood Plantation wasn’t the place for anyone that wasn’t as stiff as a board.
Oh, of course, eventually things would come out and they would find out what happened to her momma. She was not one to give up hope, the girl had more hope on that aspect, it just randomly flagged, and she needed that little boost. When they reached the exit of the cemetery, she felt his hand on her back, and she turned to give him a smile.
“I will see you at six.” And before he could tell her to keep out of trouble, because really what sort of trouble could she really get into, she was making her way to the parking lot where she had left her truck.
Issues would indeed be handled in time, so that they would not intrude on other things. Once they were out of the graveyard, he would smile for Georgia, and give her a pat on the back as she made her parting statements.
He had no inclination to tell her to stay out of trouble, but, as she hurried off, his words were cut off.
"It's a .... date ...." Yea, she didn't hear him. He rubbed a hand at the back of his head, and looked around nervously and slightly embarassed. It was like he was a kid again. "Glad no one heard that..." he muttered softly.
