Fishes Out of Water, a Tintin fic (CHAPTER TWENTY)

[kadytheredpanda]

FF.Net Entry / AO3 Entry

Chapter Nineteen / Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty: From the Diary of A. Fisher

2020202020

 

Chapter Twenty: From the Diary of A. Fisher

2020202020                                                                   

June 30, 1946

I saw him again. The Scot. It was at the Red Coat Tavern like the last couple times. He’s always here whenever he comes back from getting lobster. He’s overweight (I blame the beer), but somehow between that beard and blue eyes I still find him quite dandy. I wonder if his deposition is so as well.

July 4, 1946

It was just Billy, the Scot, and me today. Billy told me I could leave and celebrate with my parents if I wished, but I figured I could stay a little longer before the barbeque was ready. After Mother summoned me by phone, I invited Billy and the Scot to come with me. Billy declined; the Scot accepted.

My mother did her best not to say something, distasteful or no, as the Scot conversed with us over Moxie, beer, and lobster rolls. Archibald is his name. Somehow I missed that detail until I had to introduce him to Mother and Father. Luckily for me he introduced himself with an energetic handshake. Father and he discussed his service in the war, lobsters, fishing, and sailing. Oh, and of drink. Cannot forget that! Mother and he spoke about his work (and current lack of), his finances (and lack of), and how he knew me. Me, I just smiled. He is quite the bubbly teddy bear. If it weren’t for my parents being around, I would’ve attempted to get closer to him during the fireworks show.

It’s Billy that usually serves him. Maybe I should talk him into letting me serve him and he work in the kitchen for once.

July 5, 1946

He came back, like clockwork. I wasn’t my best looking, having been cooking and rushing to give the men some sustenance with their drink, but neither of us seemed to mind. I love those blue eyes so. They’re just as beautiful as his soul is. That I’m sure.

July 12, 1946

I had a date! Mother almost had me stay home, but I’m old enough to go on one on my own. Archie joked in the taxi that he can’t drive a car in America, but he can control a ship’s wheel in the ocean like no one’s business. We danced at the Black Bear Hop and then watched a film at the Plaza Theatre. It was a romantic comedy, that much I remember. Then we visited the Red Coat because oh, what the heck. Not like we can really chat at home. We decided to see how fast we both could drink a stein. I actually won! We both said our goodbyes before I departed for the taxi.

July 15, 1946

Mom and Dad trust Archie enough for us to have another date. Maybe it’s because he’s leaving for Britain soon? I am doing my best to not fall for him too hard. It is so difficult not to.

July 18, 1946

I had my first kiss. Archie kissed me before I left for the taxi. It was a peck, beer on his breath. But it was a kiss! Mother would faint if she knew!

July 31, 1946

I made a mistake.

Or, rather, we made a mistake. Or a few mistakes. Whatever happened, it wasn’t planned. It wasn’t the “right” thing to do.

I made the decision to let Archie come over with me in the taxi tonight. He was leaving for England the next day. Other details are fuzzy from whiskey. Archie insisted; he says that Loch Lomond is his favorite. What else I do know, however is that we…. Coupled. I can only pray that my parents didn’t hear us. Somehow one of us remembered a rubber. Whoever put it on did a bad job since I woke up with some of Archie’s stuff coming out of me. I immediately panicked.

I snuck out of my room, tried to think of how to discuss this with Archie. What if my parents woke up while he was still around? Kept feeling like I need a drink. Didn’t matter that it was the cause of all this. It would’ve helped calm my nerves.

I was scrambling eggs in the skillet when I heard a door shut. Archie left, without even a word to me. At least I have his address back home so I can have my own with him. I was going to have to waste a plate of eggs and toast before my father came in asking me what I was making. Let Mother and him have both plates I made. Decided I wasn’t hungry anyway.

September 1, 1946

The doctor confirmed it. I am expecting.

Mother and Father are furious. Can I blame them? Mother didn’t have me attend finishing school to become a single mother. If they could, they would terminate it under the table. Reverend Jonathan would rather me send the child for adoption. Why can’t my decision matter? I am the mother. I must contact Archie. Surely he’ll return and we can make the child legitimate.

October 21, 1946

Nothing from Archie. Perhaps it was lost en route to him. I’ll write another letter to him.

December 9, 1946

Still nothing from Archie. I am getting quite angered with him. Not just angered, but desperate. I want this child to know me as his or her mother. I want him or her to know their father too. Is that too much to ask?

February 19, 1946

The man my parents attempted to have me marry ran off. Got cold feet at the last second. I don’t blame him, frankly. Who would want them as in-laws? Mother especially. I’ve been confined to home with nothing to do but read, write, and listen to the radio, and smoke for the past few months. I could really use a drink.

April 19, 1947

My daughter came into the world a couple days ago. Colleen Anne is her name. Colleen Anne, like my Agnes Ann. Gosh, she looks so much like her father. Her nose, her bright blue eyes. They’re painful to see but oh so beautiful. She is just as lively as he as well.

My parents have made their decision. Luckily Colleen will know me as her mother. If Mother wasn’t older, they’d make it look like she was with my younger sister. I hope that the town will accept us and our decision. We’re not the richest but my parents always had some respect.

May 16, 1947

Billy told me that I cannot work at the Red Coat any longer. I can visit as a patron all I like. I simply cannot be an employee.

This is quite a blow. My parents’s salaries can only provide for four mouths for so much. The diner won’t let me work there. The gas station isn’t hiring. No one quite knows where to put me.

Oh, how I wish Archie was here. I don’t know what has happened to him. If he’s better off than me, then good for him.

March 8, 1948

Colleen said her first word today—”Mama.” Usually “ma ma ma,” actually. She is quite the energetic girl. Sometimes it seems she outruns everyone in the house! Oh, how I wish I could afford a doll for her birthday.

We are struggling with food. My father was forced to quit his job from a back injury and people rarely come to my mother for piano lessons anymore. My mother blames it on Colleen and me. Colleen, especially. She’ll come to her to get a hug or whatever, only receive a cold shoulder from her grandmother.

I’ll send Archie one last letter. I pray he responds. Even if he only sends money it’s better than nothing.

August 20, 1952

What have I done? Colleen may have been a mistake, but she was a joyous one. I do not regret her in the slightest. This, however, is shameful. There is no other way to say it. I coupled with a man for a couple dollars. Money’s been particularly thin as we’re waiting for social security checks to start arriving. It was that or not even bread. My parents refuse to go to the church or ask others, including Billy, for food. Not even the fact that even Colleen hasn’t eaten for two days matters. I did what I thought I had to. I immediately showered afterward, feeling so dirty. Some whisky also helped dull the guilt, however temporarily.

I’ll make my peace with it. Or try my best to. I hope more than ever that Mother and Father do not peek in here.

August 26, 1952

My parents found out of what happened with the man. Mother threw me out today. Colleen screamed for me. I wish I could’ve comforted her. I wish I fought Mother and brought her with me. Mother refused on the grounds that I may influence her into a seedy lifestyle. How can I be such a failure of a mother? First a whore and now this?

At any rate, I’m grateful that Billy let me stay over tonight. At least I will not be on the street tonight. I only wish that I had Colleen with me.

August 27, 1952

Mother let me back into the house. Colleen was as overjoyed to see me as I was her.

November 2, 1953

I found a mark on Colleen today. A bruise on her left shoulder. She claims that a boy hit her at school. I’m not so sure.

January 30, 1954

Colleen talked back to Father today. Before I could discipline her, he slapped her. Not once, nor twice. My poor baby, pummeled by her grandfather! I immediately took her into the bathroom and comforted her. I have spanked her when she was naughty before, but the force he exerted on her was unconventional. Or, at least, as unconventional as I learned when I got older… Even Archie found it excessive, I recall. I’d call the police, but what would it be worth? I am nothing compared to Father, even Mother. It’d only bring more shame to us, anyway.

March 23, 1955

Damn the bottle. Damn it to hell. My head hurts. Everything hurts. I haven’t seen my girl in days. I must get better for her. There must be a better way.

July 18, 1955

I can’t remember much of what’s happened the past week. I must’ve tried everything at the Red Coat. I still haven’t tried Loch Lomond. What the hell is that man up to now? I know that he’s loaded now. I’ve seen the articles, kept them all. Going on adventures with some redheaded boy and living in a nice big house. Why doesn’t he come back and get his ass here and save his kid and me? It’d be a better life for us than here.

November 8, 1956

No

NO NO

We shouldn’t stay with Mom and Dad. I’d be damned if we stay with them longer. Colleen deserves better. I hate finding new bruises on her. I hate seeing her hit. I hate getting hit protecting her. We should run away. I don’t know where, but we need to go.

NO

NO NO NO NO NO NONONO NO NO NO NO NO NO NONO NO NO NO NONONONONO

March 23, 1957

My dear Colleen,

I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for our family, I’m sorry that you had to come into this world, I’m sorry that your mother is such a failure. Other mothers wear pearls, get dinner cooked every day, and don’t have to suck cocks and down bottles to survive. Mommy’s sorry. I should’ve ran away as I intended. I don’t want you hurt by them any more, but I feel so powerless. Be strong for us.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

I’m SORRY.

I’M SORRY.

I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORY I’MSORRY IM SORRY IMSORRY IM S--

There was a knock at the door.

“Thundering typhoons!” Haddock exclaimed with a jump.

“Er, sorry for the scare, Captain,” Tintin said. “Are you okay?”

“Me? Of course I am!”

“You appear white, that’s all.” He looked down. “What are you reading?”

“This?” He looked down at the tome. “Just something I found! I was just finishing skimming it.”

He hid the book under his pillow. What he saw was going to take a lot of time to digest. How had he forgot about these “dates,” for instance? Or meeting her parents? Was he that out of it from drink? No one really had a reason to lie to a neutral source such as a journal. Simply so much to unpack!

He’d talk to Tintin about it after some later reflection. For now, though--

“Colleen appears to be done with her piano lesson. Let us join her in the parlor, lad.”

Colleen jumped herself, then relaxed, when the men entered. Haddock sat next to her on the couch while Tintin retired in a chair by a bookcase. Mister Fisher smoked while reading while Missus Fisher cooked in the kitchen. Before starting, however, she set the record player to something very familiar to Captain Haddock and Tintin.

Blistering barnacles! Not even in America can I escape Castafiore!

He looked down at Colleen, who had the same winced expression. He nodded at her. Definitely a Haddock.