The Carpenter And The Singer


Kathryn_icon.jpg CJ_icon.jpg


* None.

Summary: Kathryn and CJ meet for the first time.

Date: March 16, 2009.

The Carpenter and the Singer

Boarding House, Carpentry Shop

Kathryn is sitting down in the dining hall. It is unusually late at night, but she found herself unable to sleep. What little sleep she had involved seeing her dead mother in the snow with horrible looking wolves tearing at her in the blizzard. So she is here, alone, sipping on a hot cup of tea to try and settle her nerves.

CJ stepping into the boarding house, he sometimes took his meals here, having had lived here for two years until recently when he finally was able to open a store up. With the weather as it was, the sound of tapping of a cane, followed by footsteps as he entered the dinning room, stopping short to seeing a woman sitting. "Ah's didn't thank enny one be heah." He takes his hat off quickly, being in presence of a lady." He knew there was always coffee waiting and that was where he was making a bee line.

"I wasn't able to sleep." Kathryn replies to the gentleman, nodded her head. Her accent was mostly Bostonion, with a light touch of Irish behind it. "We, my brother and I, just arrived to this city before sunset, sir."

CJ gets his coffee and he takes his usual seat and he nods. Offering his hand after setting his cup down. "Name's Mistah Colby Jackson, Mo' foke cawls meh CJ. Ah's run th' Carpentah shop up a block air two."

The red-haired, green-eyed woman slowly stood, and offered her hand in return. "Kathryn Sullivan. Most people just call me Kat. My brother, Wayde, calls me Kathryn Anne when I've gotten him particularly riled up. It is a pleasure to meet you, Mister Jackson." she replies before sitting back down.

CJ shakes her hand and releases it and only sits down after she does and nods his head. "Pleashuh t' meet yew Mizz." he sugars his coffee, and stirs the dark liquid before putting his spoon aside and takes a sip of his coffee. "Welp Ah's do hope yew wilt Lahk air faih little town."

"I'll like it more when it stops being knee-deep in snow, I'm sure." Kathryn comments drily before taking a sip of her tea. "Our stagecoach became stuck in the blizzard. And my brother is insistant that we wait before going back for the dead and our personal possessions."

CJ nods his head. "Ahs cain undahstand that, Ah's cum from Savannah, Jawjuh, we nevah saw this much snow en awwl air live long days." He leans back a bit. "Be wise nawt t' try en go enny whar en this weatha."

"Our mother is out there. Being chewed on by wolves, or some equally dispicable creature. All I want is to bring her to town and have a proper Christian burial for her." she replies, shivering a little bit. "Or at least find a priest willing to give her the last rights she deserves."

CJ had never known wolves eating the dead, but says nothing in that regards. "Migh' sorry bouts yore Mama, Mizz Kat." He nods as she spoke of last rites and the like.

Kathryn sighs, a deeply troubled and sad sigh at that. "It is not your fault, Mister Jackson. We chose the wrong time of year to cross the mountains, it would seem, and now we are being rightly punished for it. At least I should be able to earn my brother and I some money so that we might travel on if Wayde chooses to do so."

CJ listens as he cups his hand around his coffee cup. "Nah nevah think lahk that mizz Kat, thangs happened, jest ways thangs air. Righ' nice t' seed new faces, en town, hope yew both decide t' stay on."

"As I said, that will be up to my brother. I'm certain that he will be reluctant to leave until at least the snow starts to melt. So in the meantime, I will have to find work." Kathryn replies, setting the teacup down. "Would you happen to know if there is a place where a singer might be able to apply her trade here, Mister Jackson?"

CJ taps his chin for a moment. "Dun righ' recollect enny place suitable fo' that soh of entatainment, Mizz Kat, unless maybe a saloon."

Her face seems to lighten up a little bit hearing that. "Does this quant town have a saloon, Mister Jackson? I might go over there tomorrow to see if they are looking to hire a singer if that is the case."

CJ gives some thought "Welp migh' be th' gemstone, but yew'd havta ask Mistah Armand en Mizz Meriah."

"Mister Armand and Mistress Meriah." Kathryn says, commited the names to memory, or the best she can at this unholy hour of the night. "Thank you, Mister Jackson, I appreciate the help. Now if I could just think of a way to sleep without thinking about poor mother's body out in the blizzard…"

CJ nods his head as he ponders what a man could do to offer help, and if it were him, he'd bury himself into his work. "Welp Ah's cain't say wut migh' help except maybe tawk t' th' man upstaihs." He motions upwards towards the sky.

"I've already counted my rosarie no less than ten times over, Mister Jackson. Prayer has never been my strongest trait though. I feel much more in touch with the saints when I'm singing. But a dining room is hardly the proper place for it, sadly." Kathryn replies to CJ.

CJ thought on that for a moment "Why? Gawd dun cahra yew sing t' sing his praises air othawise. Reckon ifa want t' yew cain cum t' muh stoh en sing, when Ah's upset, ah's jest bury muhself en muh wohk."

"Well, I wouldn't want to disturb anyone else here at this bed and breakfast, and if my brother hears me singing, he would be rather upset with me for being up so late. So.. I suposse if you don't mind, I could perhaps sing a song or three in your workshop?" Kathryn asks, looking a little hopeful.

CJ nods his head "Yew cain, Ah's dun mind nun." He finishes his coffee and offered a warm smile.

"Thank you so much. I just usually feel better after I sing." Kathryn says and slowly rises from her chair.

CJ unlocks the door to his store, and steps to the side pushing the door open. "Welcome t' muh stoh." He steps to light one of the lanterns and once it went aglow,she could see the things he made, and he moves to light another one.

"Thank you, Mister Jackson. Do you have any particular favorites? Or should I just choose a song from memory for you?" Kathryn asks as she enters the room in a light, graceful glide. She takes a small walk around the room, looking at the various odds and ends that are being made.

CJ thinks and only one he was rather fond of, even if he wasn't overly religous. "Amazin' Grace, righ' favorite since Ah's wuz a boy."

Perhaps it's the cold night air, or the thoughts of her poor dead mother out in the blizzard somewhere, or a combination of both, but Kathryn is not up to her best tonight, and she knows it as she sits down and starts singing. "Amazing grace, how sweet the sound… that saved a wretch like meeee…. I once was lost, but now I'm found, was blind but now I seee…. " she starts, her voice wavering a bit with sadness echoing in the words.

CJ sits down where he had left his work , he raises to his feet briefly to adjust the lightening in his work space, letting the woman sing her heart out all she wanted to and he sits down again to start working.

"Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieveeeed… How precious did that grace appear, the hour I first belieeeeved…" Kathryn continues on, though her arms are now wrapped around her middle as if she is hugging herself.

CJ works on what will be a leaf to a table and works on its design that matches the main table's. Using a chisel to deepen the design. He glances up as the woman continues to sing, and smiled to himself as he dipped his head down to study the wood grain, so that he doesn't mess it up with the chisel.

"Through many dangers, toils and snares, we have already cooooome…. Twas grace that brought us safe thus far, and grace will lead us home…." and on she goes, her bottom lip trembling and tears starting to roll down her eyes, as she tilts her head back and closing her eyes, as if she was singing to the angels and the angels alone. "When we've been there ten thousand years, bright shining as the suuuuuun…. We've no less days to sing God's praise, than when we first beeeguuuun…."

CJ listening as she continues to sing , he brings his knee to his chest for a moment just to listen, words were soothing to this old southern boy.

"The Lord has promised good to me, His Word my hope secuuuuures…. H will my shield and portion be, As long as li…" she falters, and still tries to carry through, "As long as life…" But Kathryn can't finish the song. Doing her best to keep her composure, she stands up from the chair, obviously crying. "I'm sorry… I… I can't finish… it is… was… mother's most favorite song…"

CJ walks to her after rising to his feet, handing her a hankerchief. "Ah's sorry, Mizz, Ah's cain't imagine nun wut it must be lahk t' loose yore mama." He stands beside her and waits to see if she takes the hankerchief.

Kathryn takes it and dabs at her eyes, "Thank you," she says and hands it back, ignoring the ones trailing down her face. "I should go… and try and get some rest so that I look refreshed when I go to find work come morning. Good night, Mister Jackson…" she whispers weakly.
You desert everyone you're leading or following.

CJ nodding his head, he'd walk her home. "Ah'd not be a gentleman ifa Ah's didn't wawk yew back."
You begin following CJ.

"Thank you, Mister Jackson. I would be very grateful for that." Kathryn says and goes to the door to wait for him to lead her back to the bed and breakfast.

CJ arrives at the boarding house. "Heah yew be Mizz Kat, Yew cum by muh stoh enny time yew lahk."

"Thank you, Mister Jackson." She says and then slips inside.

End Scene


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