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tellitslantTitle: Fall From a Star
Author: Kathryne
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: So very Tony Kushner's, with a characterization nod to Mary-Louise Parker.
Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
eponis in Yuletide 2006. Originally posted here.
Summary: "The pills were something she started when she miscarried or, no, she took some before that." The threshold of revelation always comes with a price.
**
"Is there fresh water there?" she asked one night at dinner. Joe looked up, startled, and Mother Pitt sighed, a little puff of a sigh that sent the steam rising off her plate spiralling up towards the ceiling. Harper watched the steam for a moment, letting the world fade away.
"Buddy? Harper?" She blinked and looked back at Joe. "Is there fresh water where?"
Harper pressed one hand to the curve of her belly. "In New York. Is there fresh water there? Streams? Can we walk in the summers down grassy banks, dangling our son's bare feet in the water, listening to birdsong and watching rabbits run under bushes? And maybe deer. Will there be deer there?"
Joe frowned. "Well, there are rivers, but I don't know if we'd ever want to wade in them. And I don't know about rabbits and deer. There could be rabbits in the park, I guess." Harper could feel him trying to judge her mood from across the table. Suddenly he brightened, sure he'd hit on something that would excite her. "There are beaches, though. We could walk right down to the ocean and watch the waves. Won't that be amazing?"
"The ocean," Harper muttered. The room was beginning to spin around her. "Salt water." She laid her knife and fork carefully to the side of her untouched plate and closed her eyes.
"Are you all right, buddy?" Joe asked, interrupted by Mother Pitt's sharp voice demanding, "How many pills today, Harper?"
"No pills," Harper whispered, and began to laugh. "I don't need no stinkin' pills. No pills." She slid sideways, and the sound of her own laughter followed her down to the floor and sucked her under like the salty ocean tides.
*
When she opens her eyes, everything is black. And white. She is lying on the floor of Mother Pitt's dining room and the world has been leeched of colour. "How odd," she thinks. She struggles upright, moving awkwardly despite the fact that she's barely showing. Some days the baby feels like a lump of lead sitting in her stomach, dragging her down. Some days she feels so light she thinks she could fly. Finally getting to her feet, she looks out the large picture window. The sun is setting over the lake, or maybe it is rising, grey flames reaching out across the water, so bright she flinches away.
Then again, this is how she's always thought of Utah. Black and white in the blazing heat, and shades of grey everywhere but no one able to look at them directly.
There's a tug on her skirt, and Harper arranges her face into what she hopes is a maternal expression before she looks down. "Yes de- oh!" She jumps back, or tries to, pressing her back to the window, because the person she's looking down on is not the child she expected. He's very small, true, but despite the fact that he barely comes up to her thigh he's definitely a man. She can tell by his beard, and the fact that he's wearing...
"Are you wearing tights?" she asks, fascinated.
"They're lederhosen," the little man snaps, sounding as if he's been asked this question many times before. "Never mind that now, I need to tell you how you're the chosen one, meant to free us from our unfortunate situation and lead us to a new and better life." He takes a deep breath, obviously readying a prepared speech.
"But I can't," Harper says, cutting him off. He stutters on his inhale and starts coughing.
"Can't? What do you mean, can't? You don't have a choice!" he insists, red-faced.
"I'm going to New York," Harper says matter-of-factly. "I won't be around to lead you to freedom or whatever. In fact, I think we're leaving soon. I think I should find Joe. Joe!" she calls, squinting into the shadows. "Joe?"
The little man laughs, not unkindly, but the sound echoes around the empty room and Harper shivers. "Joe's not here," he says.
Harper thinks hard. She does hallucinate sometimes. Maybe she should have recognised this for what it was. She really hasn't taken any pills today, though, so she doesn't understand what's causing this. That scares her more than any of her other hallucinations ever have.
She sits down very suddenly. The man nods in satisfaction. "Good. Sit there and listen." He takes a deep breath. "Greetings chosen one and welcome to Oz I am as representative of the Lollipop Guild most pleased to make your acquaintance." He pauses in his monotone recital and bows.
Harper jumps in. "You're a Munchkin!" she says excitedly. Now this feels more familiar. She looks around and frowns. "But where are the rest of you? And – aren't you supposed to sing?"
The Munchkin rolls his eyes. "Do I look like a singer to you? Budget cuts." He coughs. "We thank you for arriving to give us your aid in time of need you may rest assured that the Munchkinlanders will give you and your dog all possible assistance on your quest to the best of our ability you may begin at any time please follow the red rock road around the lake." He gestures, and Harper sees the road unfurl along the bank of the lake and disappear into the distance. The dusty red is the only colour in the monochrome landscape.
Should be easy to follow, Harper, thinks, and then- "I don't have a dog," she declares. "Are you sure you're not mixing me up with someone else? Named Dorothy, maybe?" Right on cue, a small black dog runs out of the kitchen and jumps into Harper's lap. "Oh," Harper says, and giggles. "Imagine what Mother Pitt would say if she saw you on the furniture," she chides it gently.
"Happy?" the Munchkin asks snidely.
Harper is getting a little annoyed. Usually her hallucinations don't talk back quite this much. "Look," she says, "we might as well just skip all of this. I'm sorry I can't kill the witch or the wizard or whatever it is you want me to do. I have to get back to Joe. We were talking about water. Anyways, I know how this ends, finding happiness in my own backyard and all that." She stands up and takes a deep breath. She never saw 'The Wizard of Oz' as a child - her father wouldn't allow it - so she has to think hard to piece together the bits she's seen as an adult.
Balancing on the balls of her feet, she knocks her heels together three times and chants "There's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home."
When she opens her eyes, nothing has changed, and the Munchkin is looking at her with an almost pitying expression. "That doesn't work when you're not wearing shoes," he informs her. Harper looks down and shuffles her stocking feet on the floorboards. "Look, it'll be faster if you just go," he says. "Complete the quest. Save the world. Get back to your life, such as it is." The dog barks in agreement.
"Oh, all right." Exasperated, Harper stuffs her feet into a pair of shoes and flings open the door. The dog runs out ahead of her joyously. She's only taken a couple of steps before she turns back. "Wait. What am I supposed to be doing?" she asks the Munchkin.
"Save the child," he says. "You'll meet people who can help you, don't worry." He waves goodbye and she turns and trudges away.
The road moves much faster than regular walking pace. Soon the lake is far behind her and she's striking out towards what looks like a forest. There are no forests in Utah, but then again, this is a hallucination. As she gets closer, she can see three spots of colour under the dark grey tree canopy, three people slouched against tree trunks. Silver and yellow and green, and she bounces a little in delight: the Tin Man and the Cowardly Lion are fun enough, but she thinks she and the Scarecrow could have some very interesting conversations.
None of them looks up as she approaches, though, and her steps slow. She nears them reluctantly. Something is wrong, but she can't tell what until she's right in front of the Tin Man.
"Took you long enough," he rasps, his voice grating on her ears, and looks up. She gasps: he has Joe's face.
To her left, the Lion lumbers to his feet. "Don't worry, we don't have anything better to do than lay around waiting for you all day," he growls. Joe looks out from his wild mane of hair, snarling fiercely. Harper stumbles backwards in confusion.
"Take it easy," the Scarecrow whispers, toying with the fringe of straw around one of his sleeves. "Obviously the girl just can't handle this. You shouldn't take it out on her if she's not good enough." His face is the cruellest of all, wearing the look that Joe used to get when he was in law school and she asked about his classes, and he paused and tried to explain them in small words. He was trying to be kind, she knew.
"No - no, this isn't right," she gasps, backing away and shaking her head frantically. "You're supposed to care about every living thing," she says, pointing at the Tin Man. "You're supposed to be afraid of everything," she tells the Lion. "And you!" She looks at the Scarecrow. "You're not supposed to be smart! You're not supposed to know anything. I don't like this version of the story," she says sadly, shrinking to the ground as the three characters crowd around her.
They all speak at once, their voices melding into a cacophony of angry dissonance. "Are you calling me stupid? Cowardly? Callous? You think I don't care? You think I'm not smart enough? Not strong enough? Is that what you think? Is it?"
They're surrounding her, and Harper feels small and threatened. She looks up, right into the Scarecrow's bland face. "The truth is, Harper, it's not me, it's you," he says in Joe's voice. "You're never going to be happy. You may as well chase your life to New York and try to make something of it there. Your own backyard is too much for you to handle." He pauses. "You're just not good enough for this. You lose."
His words hurt. It feels as if something is ripping her apart from the inside, and she screams, but she doesn't have the strength to fight back. She slips down into the blackness, Joe's face circling above her, and knows in her heart that the Scarecrow is right.
*
"No!" Harper came awake with a shout, sitting bolt upright in bed and feeling the pain of the Scarecrow's words ripple through her.
The first thing she noticed was that the world was in colour again. She was almost disappointed. The second thing she noticed was that she wasn't at home. She was in a hospital.
Suddenly Joe's face loomed into her field of vision, and she recoiled in fright. "Hey buddy," Joe said soothingly, putting his hands on her arms and easing her back down to the bed. "Hey, buddy, you're back. Buddy kiss." He brushed his lips against hers and she responded automatically. "Feeling better?" he asked, sitting on the side of the bed. He hadn't shaved, she noticed. She must have been - gone, asleep, out cold - for at least a day.
"What happened?" she asked bluntly. Joe rubbed the back of his neck and looked uncomfortable. "Tell me, Joe," she demanded.
"You had a miscarriage," Joe said, trying to make the words sound better by saying them as softly as possible. "We couldn't keep the baby from coming. The doctor tried, but... he couldn't save the baby." He looked away.
"Oh," Harper said. "The Munchkin will be so angry at me."
Joe buried his head in his hands. "This is my fault," he said. "I should never have taken the job in New York. I should never have tried to make you move. It was too much stress." He looked down at her suddenly, and the Scarecrow flashed in his face. "Do you want to move?" he asked. "We don't have to. We can stay here, try again... whatever you want, Harper."
"We're going to New York, Joe," Harper said flatly. "We have to." She rolled away from him and curled closer around the pillow. The weight in her stomach was gone and she didn't know what was keeping her anchored to the ground. Nothing was stopping her from sailing away into the sky on the next gust of wind. Giggling, she hummed under her breath, "The house began to pitch..."
Author: Kathryne
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: So very Tony Kushner's, with a characterization nod to Mary-Louise Parker.
Notes: Written for
eponis in Yuletide 2006. Originally posted here.Summary: "The pills were something she started when she miscarried or, no, she took some before that." The threshold of revelation always comes with a price.
**
"Is there fresh water there?" she asked one night at dinner. Joe looked up, startled, and Mother Pitt sighed, a little puff of a sigh that sent the steam rising off her plate spiralling up towards the ceiling. Harper watched the steam for a moment, letting the world fade away.
"Buddy? Harper?" She blinked and looked back at Joe. "Is there fresh water where?"
Harper pressed one hand to the curve of her belly. "In New York. Is there fresh water there? Streams? Can we walk in the summers down grassy banks, dangling our son's bare feet in the water, listening to birdsong and watching rabbits run under bushes? And maybe deer. Will there be deer there?"
Joe frowned. "Well, there are rivers, but I don't know if we'd ever want to wade in them. And I don't know about rabbits and deer. There could be rabbits in the park, I guess." Harper could feel him trying to judge her mood from across the table. Suddenly he brightened, sure he'd hit on something that would excite her. "There are beaches, though. We could walk right down to the ocean and watch the waves. Won't that be amazing?"
"The ocean," Harper muttered. The room was beginning to spin around her. "Salt water." She laid her knife and fork carefully to the side of her untouched plate and closed her eyes.
"Are you all right, buddy?" Joe asked, interrupted by Mother Pitt's sharp voice demanding, "How many pills today, Harper?"
"No pills," Harper whispered, and began to laugh. "I don't need no stinkin' pills. No pills." She slid sideways, and the sound of her own laughter followed her down to the floor and sucked her under like the salty ocean tides.
*
When she opens her eyes, everything is black. And white. She is lying on the floor of Mother Pitt's dining room and the world has been leeched of colour. "How odd," she thinks. She struggles upright, moving awkwardly despite the fact that she's barely showing. Some days the baby feels like a lump of lead sitting in her stomach, dragging her down. Some days she feels so light she thinks she could fly. Finally getting to her feet, she looks out the large picture window. The sun is setting over the lake, or maybe it is rising, grey flames reaching out across the water, so bright she flinches away.
Then again, this is how she's always thought of Utah. Black and white in the blazing heat, and shades of grey everywhere but no one able to look at them directly.
There's a tug on her skirt, and Harper arranges her face into what she hopes is a maternal expression before she looks down. "Yes de- oh!" She jumps back, or tries to, pressing her back to the window, because the person she's looking down on is not the child she expected. He's very small, true, but despite the fact that he barely comes up to her thigh he's definitely a man. She can tell by his beard, and the fact that he's wearing...
"Are you wearing tights?" she asks, fascinated.
"They're lederhosen," the little man snaps, sounding as if he's been asked this question many times before. "Never mind that now, I need to tell you how you're the chosen one, meant to free us from our unfortunate situation and lead us to a new and better life." He takes a deep breath, obviously readying a prepared speech.
"But I can't," Harper says, cutting him off. He stutters on his inhale and starts coughing.
"Can't? What do you mean, can't? You don't have a choice!" he insists, red-faced.
"I'm going to New York," Harper says matter-of-factly. "I won't be around to lead you to freedom or whatever. In fact, I think we're leaving soon. I think I should find Joe. Joe!" she calls, squinting into the shadows. "Joe?"
The little man laughs, not unkindly, but the sound echoes around the empty room and Harper shivers. "Joe's not here," he says.
Harper thinks hard. She does hallucinate sometimes. Maybe she should have recognised this for what it was. She really hasn't taken any pills today, though, so she doesn't understand what's causing this. That scares her more than any of her other hallucinations ever have.
She sits down very suddenly. The man nods in satisfaction. "Good. Sit there and listen." He takes a deep breath. "Greetings chosen one and welcome to Oz I am as representative of the Lollipop Guild most pleased to make your acquaintance." He pauses in his monotone recital and bows.
Harper jumps in. "You're a Munchkin!" she says excitedly. Now this feels more familiar. She looks around and frowns. "But where are the rest of you? And – aren't you supposed to sing?"
The Munchkin rolls his eyes. "Do I look like a singer to you? Budget cuts." He coughs. "We thank you for arriving to give us your aid in time of need you may rest assured that the Munchkinlanders will give you and your dog all possible assistance on your quest to the best of our ability you may begin at any time please follow the red rock road around the lake." He gestures, and Harper sees the road unfurl along the bank of the lake and disappear into the distance. The dusty red is the only colour in the monochrome landscape.
Should be easy to follow, Harper, thinks, and then- "I don't have a dog," she declares. "Are you sure you're not mixing me up with someone else? Named Dorothy, maybe?" Right on cue, a small black dog runs out of the kitchen and jumps into Harper's lap. "Oh," Harper says, and giggles. "Imagine what Mother Pitt would say if she saw you on the furniture," she chides it gently.
"Happy?" the Munchkin asks snidely.
Harper is getting a little annoyed. Usually her hallucinations don't talk back quite this much. "Look," she says, "we might as well just skip all of this. I'm sorry I can't kill the witch or the wizard or whatever it is you want me to do. I have to get back to Joe. We were talking about water. Anyways, I know how this ends, finding happiness in my own backyard and all that." She stands up and takes a deep breath. She never saw 'The Wizard of Oz' as a child - her father wouldn't allow it - so she has to think hard to piece together the bits she's seen as an adult.
Balancing on the balls of her feet, she knocks her heels together three times and chants "There's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home."
When she opens her eyes, nothing has changed, and the Munchkin is looking at her with an almost pitying expression. "That doesn't work when you're not wearing shoes," he informs her. Harper looks down and shuffles her stocking feet on the floorboards. "Look, it'll be faster if you just go," he says. "Complete the quest. Save the world. Get back to your life, such as it is." The dog barks in agreement.
"Oh, all right." Exasperated, Harper stuffs her feet into a pair of shoes and flings open the door. The dog runs out ahead of her joyously. She's only taken a couple of steps before she turns back. "Wait. What am I supposed to be doing?" she asks the Munchkin.
"Save the child," he says. "You'll meet people who can help you, don't worry." He waves goodbye and she turns and trudges away.
The road moves much faster than regular walking pace. Soon the lake is far behind her and she's striking out towards what looks like a forest. There are no forests in Utah, but then again, this is a hallucination. As she gets closer, she can see three spots of colour under the dark grey tree canopy, three people slouched against tree trunks. Silver and yellow and green, and she bounces a little in delight: the Tin Man and the Cowardly Lion are fun enough, but she thinks she and the Scarecrow could have some very interesting conversations.
None of them looks up as she approaches, though, and her steps slow. She nears them reluctantly. Something is wrong, but she can't tell what until she's right in front of the Tin Man.
"Took you long enough," he rasps, his voice grating on her ears, and looks up. She gasps: he has Joe's face.
To her left, the Lion lumbers to his feet. "Don't worry, we don't have anything better to do than lay around waiting for you all day," he growls. Joe looks out from his wild mane of hair, snarling fiercely. Harper stumbles backwards in confusion.
"Take it easy," the Scarecrow whispers, toying with the fringe of straw around one of his sleeves. "Obviously the girl just can't handle this. You shouldn't take it out on her if she's not good enough." His face is the cruellest of all, wearing the look that Joe used to get when he was in law school and she asked about his classes, and he paused and tried to explain them in small words. He was trying to be kind, she knew.
"No - no, this isn't right," she gasps, backing away and shaking her head frantically. "You're supposed to care about every living thing," she says, pointing at the Tin Man. "You're supposed to be afraid of everything," she tells the Lion. "And you!" She looks at the Scarecrow. "You're not supposed to be smart! You're not supposed to know anything. I don't like this version of the story," she says sadly, shrinking to the ground as the three characters crowd around her.
They all speak at once, their voices melding into a cacophony of angry dissonance. "Are you calling me stupid? Cowardly? Callous? You think I don't care? You think I'm not smart enough? Not strong enough? Is that what you think? Is it?"
They're surrounding her, and Harper feels small and threatened. She looks up, right into the Scarecrow's bland face. "The truth is, Harper, it's not me, it's you," he says in Joe's voice. "You're never going to be happy. You may as well chase your life to New York and try to make something of it there. Your own backyard is too much for you to handle." He pauses. "You're just not good enough for this. You lose."
His words hurt. It feels as if something is ripping her apart from the inside, and she screams, but she doesn't have the strength to fight back. She slips down into the blackness, Joe's face circling above her, and knows in her heart that the Scarecrow is right.
*
"No!" Harper came awake with a shout, sitting bolt upright in bed and feeling the pain of the Scarecrow's words ripple through her.
The first thing she noticed was that the world was in colour again. She was almost disappointed. The second thing she noticed was that she wasn't at home. She was in a hospital.
Suddenly Joe's face loomed into her field of vision, and she recoiled in fright. "Hey buddy," Joe said soothingly, putting his hands on her arms and easing her back down to the bed. "Hey, buddy, you're back. Buddy kiss." He brushed his lips against hers and she responded automatically. "Feeling better?" he asked, sitting on the side of the bed. He hadn't shaved, she noticed. She must have been - gone, asleep, out cold - for at least a day.
"What happened?" she asked bluntly. Joe rubbed the back of his neck and looked uncomfortable. "Tell me, Joe," she demanded.
"You had a miscarriage," Joe said, trying to make the words sound better by saying them as softly as possible. "We couldn't keep the baby from coming. The doctor tried, but... he couldn't save the baby." He looked away.
"Oh," Harper said. "The Munchkin will be so angry at me."
Joe buried his head in his hands. "This is my fault," he said. "I should never have taken the job in New York. I should never have tried to make you move. It was too much stress." He looked down at her suddenly, and the Scarecrow flashed in his face. "Do you want to move?" he asked. "We don't have to. We can stay here, try again... whatever you want, Harper."
"We're going to New York, Joe," Harper said flatly. "We have to." She rolled away from him and curled closer around the pillow. The weight in her stomach was gone and she didn't know what was keeping her anchored to the ground. Nothing was stopping her from sailing away into the sky on the next gust of wind. Giggling, she hummed under her breath, "The house began to pitch..."
