Second Chances


Bowen.jpg Indira.jpg

Date: 11/6/10
Location: EW: Headwoman's Office
Synopsis: As requested, Bowen takes a moment to drop back in on Indira and see what it was she needed to see him about. Indira explains there's a new person at the weyr who is interested in learning the tanning trade, but is too old to apprentice to the Hall. Bowen, knowing there is a large order of boots coming up soon, is only too happy to have the assistant.
Rating: PG
Logger: Bowen

Bowen’s day had begun a lot earlier than usual, before dawn, and much of that because he wanted to make sure his sister was up and moving in time to get to the kitchens and begin her work than anything else. He took advantage of the extra time before he, himself, needed to begin his own work, and enjoyed a slow, lazy breakfast and a stop into the beast caverns at dawn to say hello to Max if he were there, even though the beast manager probably already knew he was back in town considering Strider and Ashes were in stalls and there was an extra cart-wagon among the rest of them. And then he returned to his workbench and caught up with the other tanners and helped them get some of their work done, the work that had a deadline that day, before getting started on his own line of projects. It was a beautiful day, and even with his sister staying with them, life was looking good for the weyrtanner. Settled. At peace. Finally. The only loose ends left to tie up was delivering those packages to Lorayit later in the evening, and paying the Headwoman another visit. And so it was just before the midday meal that Bowen makes his way back to the interior of the Weyr. He is assuming, and hoping, whatever it was the Headwoman wanted to talk to him about, would be brief enough and not ruin his lunch appetite, or his mood, since he was hoping to meet Cheusia for lunch in the living caverns. It is with these preoccupied thoughts that Bowen nods to the guard and then wraps gently at the door, making sure he has Indira’s leave to enter before he does, in fact, enter, and takes his hat off with his customary country-bred manners. “Much obliged fer th’ weddin’ gift, Ma’am,” he says in way of greeting, that being to the quilted bundle he left with the day before.

Just before the midday meal finds, Indira in her office as might be expected. However, she's not at her desk and had instead been pacing, hands to hips and a frown patterning across her brow. Distracted she looks up at the knock to her door, a slightly more snappish than intended, "Come!" called out. When it's the tanner that steps across the threshold, her expression softens a mite, a touch of warmth infusing the more severe lines for the thanks given, "Oh, it was nothing. Just something from the Weyr to welcome the newlyweds." Gesturing for him to take a seat, she moves behind her desk and takes up hers, "How is your sister settling in so far?"

Bowen nods a little to the fact that it was a gift from the Weyr as a whole, and having already given his thanks, he moves to take the offered seat, resting his hat in his lap for the moment as he leans back a little in the chair. If he notices any unsettledness about the Headwoman, he is graciously not calling attention to it with his expression, which is just as flat an affect as it is any other day, pretty much. “’Bout as well as one might reckon a spoiled brat would be, but she’s gettin’ on. I’m givin’ her a seven b’fore she’s screamin’ her lil head off an’ wantin’ ta go home.” At the end of this, the man smiles just a little. Looking forward to it? Oh yeah.

Settling into her seating, one leg gracefully crossing over the other, Indira can't help the short chuckle that spills out over his words on his younger sister. "She's a teenaged girl, they're all full of shit," not in the least bit apologetic for the language used. "How do she and Cheusia get along?" using polite (though genuinely interested) enquiries before leading up to why it is she'd asked him to meet with her.

Bowen is not the least bit defensive of the implied notion that his sister is full of shit, or the language for that matter. In his mind, it’s the truth anyway. Now, if Indi had called her a whore or something, he might take exception and come to his sister’s defense, but Bowen is not the sort who jumps to anyone’s defense over a comment he thinks is true – though he may be more inclined to speak up a little should someone say something against Che, truth or not. He is chuckling a little now, though, enjoying the easy chat with Indira over his personal life, which is a big improvement from the old Bo who’d likely be sweating and running by now. Being with Che has done a lot for him and his self-confidence, and it shows. “Aw-right, I reckon. Che’s kinda thinkin’ o’her like a kid sister, too. She’s hopin’ th’ time here out from off m’mama’s apron strings will do Paerin some good. I think she’s thinkin’ she can mebbe keep Paerin from turnin’ inta m’mama some.”

Sloe eyes regard Bowen in silence, giving the idea that maybe being a mother herself, she's not too impressed by the manner in which he speaks of his own. That notion however might be thrown out for the rueful smile that turns out shortly thereafter, "Sometimes a mother's roleis to teach her young 'unshow not be, hmm?" Yeeah, she's well aware of her own mistakes made in that department. Leaning forward a document is pulled forward, scanned over and then slid the tanner's way, "I was wondering if you'd be able to do me a favor." Watching the man before her carefully, "A friend of mine seems to have gotten himself into a little bit of trouble and is looking to change his ways. Has an interest in learning the tanning trade but too old to apprentice," only a half-lie given there. "He needs a stable influence, someone he can look up to and respect," a pause in speech as a considering look is passed over Bowen, "you were the first person that came to mind."

If Bowen has upset some maternal sensibilities in Indira, the weyrtanner appears all manner of oblivious to it. Her comment gets a quiet regard, but neither agreeing nor disagreeing, and more than likely just confused. His attention is quite easily pulled from talk of his sister and the female influences in her life to the document Indira passes his way. There is a hint of a thoughtful frown over his features as the man looks to be concentrating hard on the words on the document, but nothing is given away. Whatever he got out of it, if anything at all, he lifts his gaze to her now, keeping the document in his lap for the time being, along with his hat. “Thank ya kindly, though I reckon I ain’t a feller ta look up ta much, ma’am. I dropped out of th’ Hall m’self, but I’ll be only too happy ta take him in an’ show ‘em whut’s whut. Truth is, I could really use an extra pair o’hands these days an’ I don’t mind so much that I gotta teach him. So long as he don’t fool ‘round an’ works hard, I’ll help him. We’ll be helpin’ each other, really.” He nods a bit, not thinking anything about this is odd or irregular. Just a man in need of work and Bowen is a man in need of an assistant. “Anythin’ else, ma’am?”

"His name's Baldor, comes from up north," Indira gives her recently acquired charge's new name. The document containing simply the man's newly adopted name, a brief background (running close enough to the truth to be believable), and his fake place of origin. A warm smile fits into place as Bowen agrees to take the young man in under his wing, leaning back in her chair with a little of whatever tension might have sat across her frame, easing a touch. "Thank you kindly, Bowen. I knew I could count on you to do so. Just one thing though," and here she sets a sober look onto the tanner, "He's to be kept away from knives other than what is required of his job, and the card tables." Thus giving hint to where Savod (now Baldor's) troubles might have lain. "If he gives you any trouble whatsoever, you come directly to myself…or Max," attaching her son there as a last resort and perhaps offering hint to this being more than simply finding a new Weyr resident honest work. A short chuckle and a gesture toward the document he'd slipped into his lap, "Aye, I'm going to need that back."

Nodding a bit, Bowen murmurs the name aloud, “Baldor,” in echo, then lapses quiet again to listen. His eyebrows go up a little at mention of him to stay away from knives or the … card tables? Other than what he needed to do for his job. Well, to be sure, Bowen will be talking to this Baldor about that when they meet and making sure he doesn’t walk away from the workbenches with a tanning knife in hand “by accident”. So, finally, Bowen drawls, “Aw-right.” And then looks surprised to have found the document still in his lap, “Oh, yes’m.” He hands it back to her. There’s no sign of reluctance or disappointment either. He’s used to just getting on by the seat of his pants and purely hoping his illiteracy doesn’t one day bite him in the ass. He’s been doing that since the Harpers started teaching him how to read anyway. This day is no different. He gets to his feet then, hat still in one hand, “He’s welcome ta stop by th’ tanner worktables out there whenever he’s ready ta start, this afternoon if he wants, or tomorrow. Don’t make much difference ta me.” There’s another pause and a nod, “If there ain’t nuthin’ else, Ma’am, I promised ta meet Che fer lunch here in a spell.”

Taking the residential document back from Bowen, Indira lends him another smile, completely oblivious to the difficulties the man has when it comes to reading. "He's young," she adds on Baldor, with 18 turns old being young in comparison to her 40 turns, "so with a little effort on his part, he should be able to turn things around for himself." Setting the document back amongst others of a similar nature, she nods in acknowledgement, "I'll have him come by first thing tomorrow morning." A soft smile appears along with a short shake of head, "No, that was it, Bowen. You go be with your lady," pause, "and give her my best will you?"

“Ayup,” Bowen says encouragingly to Baldor’s youth, “I reckon if’n I can, any feller can. J’st a matter of wantin’ ta do so.” Then he nods, “Tomorrah, then. Thank ya kindly, ma’am,” not really specifying what he is thanking her over, so it could be any number of things, or all of them. “I will,” give Che Indira’s best, “Ya have a good day then.” With his hat still in his hand he doesn’t tip it in farewell, but he does bow his head a bit in lieu of one, and with his country-boy manners he waits until he is out the door itself before he puts that hat back on.

"A second chance and someone to believe in them with a firm hand is all most people need," Indira puts out in agreement with Bowen's words to being able to turn things around. "You too, Bowen." The Headwoman gives with a smile, sloe eyes staring blankly out the door long after he's gone and then she withdraws a letter out from under a stack of paperwork, a soft sigh spilling past her lips.

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