ᑕᕼ. 12 - ᗪᖇᑌᑎKᔕ TᕼE OᑎᒪY ᗯᗩY TO ᒪIᐯE
We retraced our steps back to a creepy-ass black stone statue labeled the Waiting Woman, and is apparently dedicated to all the idiots who lost their lives out in the sea. I made Jake take a photo of me, doing my signature two-peace-sign-tongue-out-I-don't-give-a-flying-fuck pose. Across the street was our hotel, and when I saw it, I sighed deeply.
"Fucking hell." I breath, giving my father two bucks without making eye contact. Printed in giant font at the top of the establishment's sign read 'Wine, Ale, Spirits', and I mentally hoped they didn't care about my age and silently wished I'd checked to see if the age restriction for drinking was different in the UK, but because I'm one dumb ass mother fucker, I didn't even look up a gas station to buy more cigs, considering I was running out. Under the overly large script, in more modest structure, read 'Fine Food'. And finally, the icing on the damn cake, written in slanted hand drawn words, was 'Rooms To Let', but the s in Rooms was crossed out, showing that somebody messed up.
I'm just hoping it wasn't us.
We walk to the doors, our father grumbling about false advertising and trying very hard not to curse, while I sarcastically take a photo of the exterior. Running a hand through my hair, I follow in after the boys, and realize that the dimly lit room has an extremely low ceiling, and I snort trying to hide my laughter as I think some crude joke involving a midget stripper and some bungy cords.
Hole was definitely accurate in the description, as the room only had enough light to be able to walk without tripping, although I suppose they did that with or without lighting considering the entire place smells like beer and piss. The tables look more like firewood than useful countertops, and the chairs looked like tree stumps that were vaguely cut like a chair. The bar is half full at this God early time, all the men nursing their bottles with their heads bowed like they're in some weird prayer with their Liquor Jesus.
"You must be after the room." The man behind the bar of wallowing drunks comes up to greet us, shaking the boys hands and graciously nodding to me, and I just raise my eyebrow at him with a slack expression. "I'm Kev and these are the fellas. Say hullo, fellas." He turns to the bar.
"Hullo." They mutter, not looking at us.
"What a great welcoming committee." I say dryly, and Jacob lightly elbows me. He just smiles at me and directs us upstairs. He shows us our rooms- actually plural, thank God- and dad takes the larger room, leaving Jacob and I together in the other one. I made a joke about incest and got punched in the ribs by my embarrassed brother- "Ow! What'd I do, you little bitch-tit mother-fucker? Uh, I'm gonna bruise!"- and he showed us the connecting room that had the living room, kitchen, and dining room all in one- a table, a moth eaten couch, a useless hot plate, and my dignity. Oh wait, that flew out the window.
Speaking of window, you can see the backup bathroom right outside Jacob and I's. Fun. Yeah, I'm considering throwing myself out it.
If that wasn't the worst part, we have to use oil lamps after ten because petroleum is a bitch to get shipped here. I might as well wear a slip and be betrothed- yes I can make intelligent jokes too, thank you very much. My brother and father insisted it wasn't too medieval, but I just stared at them. We walked down to the last leg of the tour.
"You're welcome to take your meals here, and I expect you will, on account of there's nowhere else to eat. If you need to make a call, we got a phone box in the corner there. Sometimes there's a bit of a queue for it, though, since we got a doodly for mobile reception out here and you're looking at the only land-line on the island. That's right, we got it all- only food, only bed, only phone!" He leaned back and laughed really fucking loud, and it lasted for a good 40 seconds of awkwardness.
Dread slowly began to set itself on my chest, and it felt more like the ass of Satan as I realized this was the piss hole Jacob told me about, the one he phoned and it sounded like a mixture of a frat party and a group orgy involving some brash sailor song. And we were going to be living with this for three weeks.
"Any questions, you know where to find me." He says, and I inwardly say, Um, yeah, I have a question- is suicide an option, or do I have the advantage of getting a boat?
"I have a question," Jacob asks, and I roll my eyes at him for continuing the conversation."What's a piss- I mean priest hole?" A moment of silence overpasses and I wait with baited breath, until the entire bar erupts into over-the-top laughing, making me jump.
"Why it's a hole for priests, of course!" Even more laughter ensues after one answers.
Kevin walks over to uneven floorboards- which, despite descriptive, wouldn't actually help if you went to this establishment, considering everything was kind of uneven, and I'm not just talking about the structure- in front of the fireplace, where a lanky dog lay, and he taps his foot next to what looks like a small trap door. "Right here, ages ago, when just being a catholic could get you hung by a tree, clergyfolk came here seeking refuge. If Queen Elizabeth's crew of thugs come chasing after, we hid whoever needed hiding in snug little spots like this- priest holes." Thanks for the Social Studies lesson, Christopher Columbus, I think sarcastically.
"Snug indeed! Bet they were warm as toast and tight as drums down there!" One drunkard shouts above my shoulder, and I quickly shift away from him.
"I'd take warm and snug to strung up by priest killers any day." Another demands, causing chuckles.
The first man wobbly stands, raising his glass. "Here, here! To Cairnholm- may she always be our rock of refuge!"
"To Cairnholm!" They all shout, clinking their glasses together. I watch them, transfixed. Sure, they were bums who spent their days wallowing over a glass of scotch, but they all were together- they all had some form of unique sense of purpose. Yeah, they were drunk fools, but they were drunk fools together.
Maybe drunk is the only way to be happy.
— — — —
ᗰᗩᖇIETTᗩ
— — — —
Hello beautiful people! It has come to my attention that there are a lot more of you- according to my chart, even though it might say differently on your account, says I have 882 reads. I kid you not I read it and started crying, because I'm an emotional hoe.
So thank you so, so much, and welcome to this book! I hope you guys like Rose so far.
But, I just wanted to inform you that I will possibly be absent for 2-3 weeks against my wanting. No, I didn't get arrested, you bitch. So, in the meantime, I'm going to write as much as possible and see whether or not my friend and log onto my account and publish them, so it might be like I never left.
— — — —
How do you think Rose with adapt to her new living quarters?
Do you think she'll react well to Worm and Dirty D?
How's she going to deal with alcohol withdraws?
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Freakshow 〰 Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children
Fanfic"We tried everything to get fired- called customers drug addicts, pretended to steal babies, goof off in the costume isle by dressing up as a fairy princess unicorn astronaut. Okay maybe all those were me, but this place fucking sucks." - - - - Rose...
