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Regan has decided that she likes it in Darrow. Yes, her parents and her brother aren't there, but neither of the creatures, and there's a chance, it seems, that her family could show up. So, that's promising, at least. And, really, it's not that bad. She doesn't have to worry about the sounds of her footsteps. She doesn't have to worry about the birds fluttering overhead — how loud are their songs? Are they chirping too loudly?

Darrow is a freeing place.

She's in the mall, because it's Saturday and that's where teenagers go on the weekends, right? She's got a jacket and scarf, and she's wearing long wool leggings under a skirt and tee shirt. Cute boots finish off the ensemble and she's got a headband keeping her mess of curls at bay.

She's not even sure what she's looking for, honestly. It's kind of nice to just be out of school and enjoying the weekend. She'd never thought she'd be missing free time after just a handful of days back in school, but there it is.

After a bit of wandering through different shops, she buys a smoothie to enjoy while she walks. There are a few shops she might go in when she's done. But for right now, she's just enjoying the crowd.

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That earns a smile, and she huffs a laugh through her nose. "Yeah," she agrees. "You were, a little bit." There's no point in lying to him, or trying to make him feel better. He'd been kinda creepy, staring at her, and even if she can understand it, that doesn't make it less creepy.

Well, maybe it does a little bit.

"It's okay, though. I forgive you."

"Thank you," he says, one of the few signs that he knows well and fluidly, without thinking about it. He appreciated the forgiveness, small and teasing from a young teenager, because it was so totally unnecessary.

The next was a bit choppier, showing the thought to try and find the words he wanted. He'd have to get more practice if he wanted to hold a good conversation with the girl. But for now, it was an amalgamation of gestures and concrete words, and hoping the context was clear.

"Shouldn't you be in school?"

"It's Saturday," she replies. "I figured I'd wander the mall and maybe get some new things." She's only been here a couple weeks. There's plenty she's realizing she's missing out on — mostly clothes and books, but also... She looks at him, studying at first, then adds, "I'm looking for something to take up time with. Maybe I'll get an RC car and take it apart or something." She isn't sure why she says that. But maybe he'll have an idea for her, something a little more complex.

Frank took a second when she said it was Saturday, sort of blinking owlishly until he put together that it was. By then, he'd missed a little bit, and as with a couple of her other statements, he was lost.

"Slow down," he requested, back to more rudimentary, choppy movements. "Say again. Sorry."

She huffs a laugh, and repeats herself, a little slower to give him a chance to keep up. An RC car would be interesting, and she could figure out how it works, and maybe even how to make it better. Somehow. She doesn't even know at this point. Just anything to kill the time.

More slowly, with the sort of enunciation he would expect in a verbal speaker talking to a non-native learner, he was able to piece together the glosses and put context into everything. He smiled a little and nodded.

But he didn't really know the words for a response, so he held up a finger and rummaged in his pockets until he found his phone.

Sorry was the first thing he put, We've gone past what I know how to say. A model RC car or drone sounds like it could be neat. My kids both loved RC things. My wife and I got a lot of practice fixing them.

He handed the phone over so she could read.

Edited 2019-02-15 15:44 (UTC)

"Do you mind if I keep signing?" she asks. She doesn't want to assume. Maybe he can follow along, and if he can, she'd rather stick to what she knows.

If he can't, then she'll pull out her phone, too.

"I wasn't allowed to play with much at home after awhile. We couldn't make noises, and most RC things make plenty of noise. I miss playing with electronics, though. My dad and I used to make it a hobby together."

She doesn't know why she tells him that. Maybe because he'd been so honest about his kids, so she feels the need to reciprocate. But it's out, now, and if he's followed along, then, well. He can read between the lines or ask whatever questions he needs to.

Frank shook his head, because her signing was good for him trying to figure things out. She was, understandably, much more adept than Lisa who had just been picking it up. Frank didn't think that there was shorthand or dumbing down in ASL like there was in a lot of other languages. He just had to keep up.

Occasionally he would ask Say that again or Type that gloss for me, but he kept up for the most part.

Then, when she paused, he rather clumsily set his phone down and asked, "is your family okay? Back home?"

She bites her lip, realizing that she doesn't really know. She feels lost, for a moment, and fear grips her like she's back there, with the creatures hunting every sound she doesn't realize she's making. She hesitates, then finally answers.

"They were when I left," she says, even though it's not a particularly good answer, and even though it doesn't mean they are now.

He saw the look, the concern and unknowing, and he understood that immediately. He'd left New York knowing few things, and when he'd gotten memories from back home, it had solved some mysteries and added more complications. So he got it, he understood. Some of his knowledge had stayed with him; there was no need to burden Billy with certain things. All he knew was that time moved differently in Darrow; Shroedinger's equation made infinite, they were at once in and outside of the times they'd left.

First he apologized, and then he typed out quickly, Could I give you a hug? If she didn't want one from a veritable stranger, he would understand. But she looked like she needed one.

She shakes her head, but there's a small smile in her eyes. "No. That's kind of weird, right? Besides, I'm okay." It's a nice offer, though, and maybe, later, in the future, she'll take him up on it. Right now, though, he's just a random adult she met at the mall because he was staring at her.

On the outside, said just plainly like that, Regan starts to second guess this entire experience. But, really, Frank doesn't seem like that. So, he's either an incredibly good actor, or he's just a genuinely nice person.

Regan is lucky enough to have no reason to think the former, so she accepts the latter. But she still turns down the hug.

Frank nodded and gave her a bit of a smile. It was reasonable, and the offer had maybe been a little presumptive. But she was young, and sometimes young girls needed hugs. Now that the offer was passed, he felt comfortable just sitting for a moment, thinking about the layout of the mall.

As with the rest, he was clumsy and slow when he spoke. A few times he had to stop and really think about a word, and ended up finger-spelling it so that he didn't make an ass of himself--nothing worse than meaning to say one thing and saying something totally different. He did that enough with verbal languages.

"There's a toy shop on the other side of the mall," he said. "I've seen RC things in the window. Cars and trains and drones. All kinds."

She perks a little at that. "Thanks!" she says. "Sorry, for the misunderstanding, earlier. I should probably get going."

He nodded and smiled a little as she looked so bright. Then, on a bit of a thought, he said, "Would it be strange to give you my number? In case you need anything."

He was a father, after all, and even if she didn't want physical contact, sometimes a young teenage girl needed a father. Frank new, himself, that he would not say no to being allowed to dote the tiniest bit, if she'd let him. It had been years since he'd been able to look after someone.

"Maybe," she answers, with an almost comical shrug, "but I'll take it anyway." She pulls her phone out and opens a new contact entry, then hands it over for him to fill. Once it's back, she sends him a simple text wity a greeting and her name, so he has her number, too.

Frank put his number in, and when he got Regan's text, he put her in as well. It was strange to have contacts in his phone again--he hadn't since everything with his family--but it was also kind of nice.

He shouldn't keep her, if she wanted to adventure. He gave her a small smile. "Have a good day, Regan."

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