R E S T A R T

There sat Caroline Clark, or Callie, or CC — people never made up their mind of what they should call her, they just called her whatever they wanted. The young woman was fully aware that she was having probably a mental breakdown in the middle of Anna’s, but her mind was so out of it that she didn’t care. University had caught up with her and what was she was thinking? All those responsibilities at once? She was never good with responsibilities, she was good at hopping on a horse and be on her merry way. Riding is what made her happy, but also animals — she did love those little bastards — and helping around at the Vet Clinic, which had convinced her to enter university and put her in that position. She was disheveled and she didn’t even know what time it was. Callie groaned loudly. “No, no, no, no, no! Stupid computer, no!” She hit on the laptop’s keyboard, thinking it would be good for something, but she was terribly wrong. Suddenly she felt her eyes wet, was she crying? Was she that stressed? She looked around, hoping nobody was paying attention to that little show of hers, but it was Raeford, probably Savannah would be speaking of it the next day — Caroline Clark’s mental breakdown — she wouldn’t blame her. “Don’t pay attention to me, I’m not crying no,” she rubbed her eyes, “it’s just that my computer shut down and now I have to re-start this presentation and the patients’ charts and whatever…” She rambled, Callie always rambled when she was feeling distressed.

Agnes seldom ate out. It was a rare treat for her when she did, always had been. Back when her family used to be tight on money, they would only go dine out somewhere once a month. That was a habit from her background that Agnes had never been able to kill since she still did that to this day. Besides, it gave her an excuse to go out and explore Raeford more, go into different crooks and crannies that Agnes would have otherwise never known existed.

Today she had decided to go to Anna’s, which became her favorite place to eat in Raeford within a matter of minutes. The general aesthetic of the restaurant, as well as the kindness of the waiters and quality of the food, impressed Agnes. She had ordered for herself a burger with fries on the side, as well as a cherry coca-cola (which she was surprised they served).

For the most part, the area was quiet aside from a few other customers. When Agnes began to finish up her meal, now only left with a few fries, she heard a cry not too faraway from her. She turned back, victim of her own curiosity, and quirked a brow when she saw a young lady, who seemed to be around her own age, having what somebody would call a “mental breakdown.”

Whatever made Agnes rise from her seat with her remaining food was beyond her, however, she soon made her way over to the other’s booth, and slid to sit across from her. When she looked up to meet the woman’s eyes though, she was stumped on what today.

“Do you need... Help?” Agnes asked after a moment of silence, realizing that she had invited herself over here. It had been what she felt was right though. Despite that, she still cast her gaze downwards, expecting to be dismissed. She should really think more before she did, yet she doubted that was going to change anytime soon.

Being back in town meant having to visit people. As much as she deeply prevented socialization with Raefordians, Caitlyn had not only been born there, but she had also grown up and stayed put until she was eighteen, that meant she still bore some bonds with people and as she had grown older, the people she had bonds with in that town had also grown up, but unlike her who had gone away at the first chance she could, as further away as she could, her friends had acquired jobs and lived regular lives in the town she abandoned.

Alas, there she was, walking into Jitterbug to visit one of said friends. If she had her way, her stay at the town would go by unnoticed, but her mother was the town drunk and whenever Cat was around, her presence was known by the fact that Veronica presented plenty less problems to the town’s well being than when Cat was on tour in the Middle East. 

Upon being greeted by a very strikingly beautiful brunette, Cat pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head and smiled. “Good afternoon, I was looking for Gunner, is he around?” She asked, hoping that Gunner had not been fired or else, she wouldn’t really know where to find him next.

This was unexpected.

Agnes had grown used to the regular requests that people had for her when they came through Jitterbug’s doors. She could easily give a customer a trim or adjust their roots and highlights. Like a broken record, Agnes was about to fall into her usual agreeable response and introduction, however, she soon realized that was not the appropriate reaction. She caught herself, eyes widening a bit and expression shifting into one of mild surprise. Out of embarrassment at her falter, Agnes glanced to the side.

“Gunner...?” She repeated the name like she had never heard it before although she was quite sure she has. Agnes murmured, “One moment,” before opening one of the drawers behind the counter. Inside of it was a small book, which she pulled out and flipped through until she reached today’s dates. Her delicate finger placed itself on top of the page and then trailed down until she reached her signature, which was next to her printed name and scheduled hours. Underneath her name, she found the answer to the woman’s question.

Looking back up at the stranger, Agnes told her, “He will be soon. His shift starts in twenty minutes.”

In retrospect, Agnes knew that was not a lot of time, although she was also unaware of whether the other was running on a schedule or not. So, on the spot, she offered a few mild options.

All the time she got to spend with Erin was time well spent, especially now that Mackenzie was finally out of the hospital and able to take care of her children. Still, Jessica hardly ever complained when she was asked to babysit. As she watched the girl skipping down the sidewalk, a few short steps away from her, she smiled. It was no doubt that she was her parents’ daughter, with bouncy yellow angel hair and features that so much looked like theirs, it made Jessica feel like something could be alright again someday, even if they were going through such a long rough patch, it was nice to see that one of them was going to go by unscathed, simply because she didn’t understand most of what was happening.

They had done a full girl’s day that day. Jessica had taken her niece shopping and gotten her and the twin some new cute clothes. Then they had lunch, which Erin ate her favorite sandwich at Anna’s, with some french fries and a nice iced tea that made her feel refreshed, her own words, she didn’t know where she had learned it and now they were going to get a haircut. Well, Erin was going to get a haircut, because Jessica had taken hers a few days back.

Stepping into Jitterbug was the way to make Erin stop skipping and be immediately taken by her surroundings, which made Jess chuckle before she turned her attention to the girl who was greeting them. “Good afternoon, thank you,” she always tried to be on her best behavior around Erin, the little girl repeated her thank you with a toothy smile. “Ah we come here for a haircut. This girl over here wants some awesome bangs, but I think we’ll have to settle for some inches to be taken off her hair.”

The moment that Agnes saw a child, she tried to straighten up.

Handling children had never been difficult for Agnes. With so many younger sisters, she was rather used to having them around. However, it did take a certain amount of brain power and productiveness to give children the proper care they need. When it came to adults, Agnes could let them talk the entire time and get through an appointment just fine. Children, on the other hand, needed somebody to bounce off of.

Agnes tried her best with them, she really did. She pulled out a signature smile to the woman, although she directed it to the child, for the most part, so she knew Agnes was friendly.

She felt embarrassed though, a touch bit self-conscious. Agnes had always found her smile too wide.

Troubled, that was definitely one way to put it. Anna was startled by the presence of the young woman, so much so that she was quick to dry the tears that were flowing freely from her eyes. Still, she was sure that her cheeks were stained with streaks and there was no denying that she was crying from just looking at the puffiness of her eyes. She didn’t know how much time she looked at the girl before swallowing thickly what it seemed like the rest of her tears that had built up inside her throat. 

“I— I’m sorry, just a very very difficult day,” she took a look her her wrist watch, it was only the beginning of the morning, which meant that the very, very difficult day had just begun. “Are you… do you need something?” Anna asked gently, being careful with her tone as to not be rude with the other, not that she was capable of being so, even with a lot on her mind. 

It was obvious that the woman had not been expecting for anybody to catch her in the midst of her tearful bout. Agnes could not blame her though. She almost felt intrusive now, having interrupted the other while she let out some of her emotional turmoil. Nonetheless, Agnes would not have felt right, playing the role of a mere bystander. She had to step in, say something, at least try. Her biggest regrets in life came with not taking risks.

“No, I don’t need anything,” Agnes confirmed, voice low as she walked next to the other, leaned against the wall besides her, then looked down, “You seem like you’ve been having a difficult day. I suppose I wanted to check if you needed anything.”

Her words were honest and they held no underlying cynical motivation. It was her odd way of saying that she wanted to make sure that the other was alright. Even if she was a stranger. What did it matter of she was anyway? They all lived such short lives, and what did they do? They spent it building walls, fussing over details that would one day never matter. She found it all silly.

It happened when Sydney got out of the shower that morning. She had been styling her hair when she noticed it. Split ends. Oh that was not something she was going to allow to happen. She had heard that there was a salon in town and so the only really logical solution was to go there. Or at least later on when her hair had dried out. Anything to look perfect.

It wasn’t so much that she had cared about it. But growing up her parents had always made a thing about looking perfect at all times. She knew that it wouldn’t be long until the bump was showing, and whilst she could pretend things were normal right now, the moment that happened, people might start questioning her appearance. Being new somewhere was hard enough, but being the subject of gossip was beginning to make her lose her sanity, or what was left of it. She knew that none of this would be easy, but she had also never expected it to be this hard.

Walking into the salon, she tried to make sure she looked relaxed. If it was obvious she wasn’t, she supposed she could at least blame it all on her job. Smiling at the woman who came over, just act normal for once she told herself. “Oh hi. I really just needed a trim. I seem to have a lot of split ends”.

It was obvious, to Agnes at least, that the moment who walked through the door was not at ease. Perhaps it was on account of her years of observing people from afar as a child that has made Agnes develop such keen senses. Either way, the knowledge did Agnes no good. She was not going to pry, it was not in her nature, and she was also not going to draw attention to it. No, she would satisfy her customer and let her go about her day.

At least, that was how Agnes hoped this would play out.

“Of course. My name is Agnes, I will be your hairstylist today.” Agnes introduced herself and then stepped around the counter, heading towards one of the numerous vacant seats in the hair salon. Motioning her hand, she beckoned for the woman to take a seat, asking her in the process, “Are you a part of our membership program? If not, would you like to sign up for it?”

TAROT ASKS /// OPEN

Have you ever written a poem or song about somebody else?

“Many of the poems that I have written are about somebody. After all, every creation has its inspiration.”

Do you think you will ever get married?

“It was in my plans originally, yes. Now, I’m unsure.”

Do you believe in ghosts?

“No, however, I do believe in spirits. There is a difference between them. Ghosts are apparitions meant to scare children and adults alike. Spirits are the remnants of somebody who has passed, our loved ones who are long gone.”

What is your favorite soda pop?

The more Kenzie thought about it, the more she truly did miss her brother these days. Kit had always been the person she could rely on - there hadn’t been much of an age difference between them, and Kenz longed for the days that he still lived in town. Kit had always been her main confidante, the one person she knew that she could turn to and trust with anything - and after her accident, he wasn’t there. She hadn’t quite realised how difficult it would be when she didn’t feel that she had anyone to trust. Everyone seemed so set on treating her like glass; like she was about to shatter into a million pieces at any moment. 

Mackenzie Taylor’s heart had shattered the moment the doctors had informed her that she’d lost the last three years of her memories - nothing could take that back or change it now.

And she was beginning to feel that she was going to have to put her heart back together, shard by shard, on her own. That was probably the most terribly isolating thought - that she was in this on her own. How could it be any other way, when everyone seemed so set on what she was missing, instead of the fact that she was here and ready to continue living her life?

She hadn’t quite meant to unload as much on the woman as quickly - but perhaps a complete stranger was exactly who she needed to talk to. Someone without any bias, without any prior knowledge of the situation - someone who didn’t have their own two cents to add into her story. It somehow felt good to get it off of her chest, without the other having a preconceived notion of what the story should have been.

Still, she couldn’t help but feel guilty, an apology immediately falling from her lips, “Sorry, that was kind of a lot.” Kenzie’s face became sheepish as she spoke, unsure of how to proceed. Instead, she fell silent, simply allowing Agnes to do her job, until she was the one to begin speaking. She couldn’t help but notice that there was something poetic about the way that Agnes spoke, something that seemed to catch her attention and force her to listen.

Mackenzie waited until she was finished before responding, “I think that’s a good way to put it. Life gives and takes - I’ve never really thought of it that way before.” She nodded softly as she spoke, although feeling a stab in her heart at the story she’d shared. “I think it sometimes makes me wonder if there is some kind of plan set out for us, you know? The whole fate thing – I don’t like the whole ‘everything happens for a reason’ cliche, but maybe the things that happen to us set us in motion on paths we never thought we’d take before. I don’t know, really - I’m rambling at this point, I think, but–” There was a confession coming, one she hadn’t planned on spilling, but it was out before she could stop it, “I don’t feel that I get much time to speak these days, I suppose. I have everyone else speaking for me, or over me, or on my behalf, that I don’t think I get to put things the way I’d want to.”

She nodded once again at the change of subject; knowing that everything felt that it had gotten a little deep for a regular hairdressing appointment, but there was some level of relief in it. She didn’t have to keep up a facade when she conversed with someone who didn’t know her - and that was certainly refreshing.

Mackenzie was an interesting character, and Agnes felt as though there was a lot more potential resting between them. It was not everyday that she opened up so much to someone. Everybody had a hard time prying information out of Agnes: strangers, friends, family. Although Mackenzie didn’t seem to realize it, she had done something quite rare. And it seemed, to Agnes, that she too needed somebody to be there for her. Or at the very least, to listen.

She could not help the faint smile that teased her lips when the concept of fate was brought about. Agnes was a big believer of it, but in the way that Mackenzie described it. One door often opened up many others. Possibilities were interlocked together; life was a series of them. If something small had changed in the past then the future would no longer be the same, according to the laws of the butterfly effect.

Yes, Mackenzie was very intriguing. Her and Agnes had much to discuss, if time allowed it.

“I understand,” she said to the earlier tangent, and added, upon the revelation, “It’s important to have your own voice, Mackenzie. People sometimes believe that they have the right to take it from you, however, they are mistaken. You are your own keeper.”

Agnes then walked over to the counter, murmuring, “Excuse me,” as she did so. For awhile, she rummaged about there, looking through papers and scanning through something on the computer at the desk. Then, she found a wad of sticky notes and ripped one out. Scribbled something on it and folded the blue paper before returning to Mackenzie.

She set it down in front of her.

“Don’t worry about paying for the touch-up. It’s on the house,” Agnes said, again, hoping Mackenzie wouldn’t misinterpret that for pity, so she clarified, “Your medical bills must be through the roof and it was really no problem so don’t worry about it.”

Proceeding to tap the paper, she explained what it was.

“My number. If you need anything,” she explained, motioning to her own hair and then setting her hands down, giving Mackenzie what she hoped was an obvious smile, even if in reality it was only subtle, “Hair related or personal. I don’t mind listening. People need opportunities to speak, and I find that everyone is a unique story. Perhaps we can go for lunch or something similar sometime.”

Getting a haircut always made her anxious. Yes, it was stupid. It would grow back and it wasn’t like she ever requested something out of the norm. Still - especially since she’d never seen the other woman before - a stranger would have far too much say in her outer appearance for her own liking and would get too close and in her personal space. Her hair was a mess though. Not excessively so: the ends were a little damaged and dry and they simply felt like an awkward length.

With a smile and a nod, Gabby went further inside the salon. “Nice to meet you too, Agnes. I’m Gabriella Carmichael.” Her affiliation with the farm and her grandpa was pretty obvious with that. She usually didn’t have to add that she was a native at this point either. 

“Thank you.” Gabby looked around the salon and chose a seat. Sitting down, she put her purse and her keys on the board underneath the mirror in front of her. “So, you made it three weeks already. That means you’re here to stay? How do you like the town?” With a smile, Gabby watched the other woman behind her through the mirror.

Carmichael. It would be a lie if Agnes said that the name didn’t ring a bell. Although she had only been at Raeford for a short period of time, she knew of the Carmichael Farm. It was the only one in Raeford (although, she may be incorrect on that) and it was also rather highly praised. There was therefore no doubt in her mind that Gabriella was a native.

Agnes returned the nod and waited for Gabriella to seat herself before picking up a dark comb from the counter. Gabriella’s hair looked very smooth so she figured that she would not need a brush for it.

The question broke her out of her simple thoughts and prompted for her to cast her eyes downwards onto Gabriella’s hair, focusing on it as she began to work.

Although Task Rabbit, Uber, and Rover offered income it wasn’t steady. It’d been roughly two months since her move to Raeford, what was a train ride through the town seemed to turn to an extensive stay. It was odd, but as soon as the doors to train opened, Esteé was taken by a welcoming warmth. Sure, that could have been attributed to having just left New York, a state not exactly known for it’s ‘southern’ hospitality. 

Truthfully, Esteé, hadn’t really decided to stay in the small city until about two hours prior to entering Jitterbug. With a stack of resume’s in hand she’d taken to town, walking into small establishments searching for a steady gig. 

The chime that echoed off the walls as she walked into the little establishment that although seemed to camouflage itself right into the small town offered something entirely different as you entered it’s doors. She hadn’t expected to be spoken to right away, and the greeting through her off for a moment. Her carefully thought out spiel leaking from her brain as quickly as she opened her mouth to speak. Instead Esteé pulled out a resume, out stretching her arm somewhat robotic-ally, to offer a copy to the female. She couldn’t help but notice the striking eyes, which held her gaze not aiding to her cause. “I was hoping you were hiring” she managed, with a small smile. “That’s my resume, I can prove to be pretty handy. I don’t do hair cause that would be bad, but I can greet people, and I’m really good at fixing things” she offered nervously. She had every intention of selling herself more eloquently then she currently was. 

Needless to say, it was a surprise when instead of requesting a haircut, the girl sought a job. Yet not necessarily a bad one. Every story had its twists, didn’t it?

Their eyes met for a moment, her icy blue ones mixing in with smoldering brown. While some would claim that brown eyes are common, nothing really special about them, Agnes begged to differ. She found them beautiful, beholding the many secrets that the universe seemed to hold. Within brown eyes, Agnes often found herself at home.

Of course though, their gazes soon disconnected and Agnes found a resume being handed to her. Agnes took it, listened to the girl and the slight hitch of her breath, noticing that her name, according to the paper, was Esteé. She read over the resume at an astonishing pace — one of her talents was that she was a speed reader — and figured out that Esteé was a jack of all trades and master of few.

Perhaps that was what they needed, especially since she seemed to have some knowledge with basic engineering. Her manager has been looking for somebody to tinker with and fix all the broken crooks and nicks in Jitterbug. The interior itself may look new, but that was only account of excellent decoration; the building itself was rather old.

Agnes was sure her boss would be overjoyed, so without skipping a beat, she looked up at Esteé, she simply said, “You’re hired.”

Sliding the resume under the counter, she moved to extend her hand in a more formal greeting.

“My name is Agnes,” she introduces herself, “While I don’t own this establishment, my boss has been looking for somebody with your skills for quite awhile now. Not many people in this town go searching for jobs, as most are fairly set in their careers. So, welcome. I’ll print out a proper job description as well as other information for you shortly.”

TAROT ASKS /// OPEN

Do you have any nicknames?

“No, not really. Some call me by my middle name, Faith, and that’s around it. I don’t mind nicknames though. My name could be twisted quite a few ways if people got creative, I’m sure.”

Can you describe a strange dream you’ve had?

“I dream often, although not of anything conventional. Most of my dreams are lucid, a notion that my mother used to claim meant the devil was trying to get ahold of me... Ah, but that doesn’t answer your question. Yes, yes, a strange dream... The other night, I dreamt of the sun and the moon colliding, although not in the form of an eclipse. They came together into a singular, blazing shape and shone down on the Earth with a blistering illumination. Nobody was harmed by the spectacle, despite how searing hot it was, but they were all amazed by it. They stopped and stared. Then, when the sun and moon separated again, the sky returned to normal, and so did life. Everybody kept moving once more, as though nothing ever happened. I’ve been thinking about the symbolism behind the dream quite a bit, and I believe I have figured out what it is supposed to represent: grief.”

Do you believe in magic?

BOOK ASKS /// OPEN

Stories set in the past or the future?

“The past. I enjoy exploring the possibilities that it could have brought about. Perhaps some tales that take place in it have happened and merely went unrecorded. You never know. I feel as though the future is too broad and unknowing for stories to comfortably take place in it. That being said, I do read both types of novels, it is just a matter of preference.”

BOOK ASKS /// OPEN

Stand alone novels or a series?

BOOK ASKS /// OPEN

Three favorite characters?