A Curse Upon Thee 2-23

‘If you’re scared, that’s good. Very good, in fact. Means your heart’s still beating, boy. Brain’s still working.’

The young man adjusted the cuffs of his sport coat, pausing his steps on the sidewalk as his chest buzzed. His phone left his jacket pocket a second later, blue eyes staring down at a text from the family reminding him of Father’s scheduled check-in.

‘Means your body’s still giving you information.’

The sun was already starting to set on another day in Storybrooke as he pocketed his phone again and continued his path down Main Street, the words of Uncle Kurt still resonating in his head.

Plenty of information, sure. Chad O’Donaghue clicked his tongue as yet another person smiled up at him on their way past him. And it’s definitely starting to scare me.

It’d been over a week now since four wheels and a struggling GPS had led him this far into Maine and the eighteen-year-old was unable to deny one simple fact. Namely, that this entire zip code had the feeling of an overdone and under-rehearsed stage play.

It would be one thing if it was only one thing, like the fact that people simply quieted their conversations when he walked into rooms. He understood tightly-knit communities; the smaller they were, the more insular they tended to be. Not exactly hard to understand. And for a town of roughly four-thousand, that was small enough to be suspicious of outsiders.

But it didn’t stop at the one.

There also happened to be the two and the three and, honestly, he’d be better served spending brainpower keeping track of what wasn’t suspicious about this town and its people.

The small store he’d just left behind was an example all its own. For a simple purchase of a small pack of gum, you would have assumed he was openly carrying a loaded weapon from the tight strained smile the clerk behind the counter gave him. It makes no sense.

Truly, what made no sense was the story about his cousin. 

It was nothing Chad wanted to believe and nothing he could realistically believe either. David Nolan may have worn a lot of hats — sheriff and mayor on top of that — but the man certainly didn’t obtain political office the standard way with that lack of skill when it came to lying.

Finn lost his memory after a car accident, slapped on a tin badge for some reason, and played the local hero before skipping town? Another person being fed that story might have lost their temper day one and thrown some choice words at the person peddling it. 

Yet Chad had kept his cool, as he always did.

He had listened to the story, repeated and retold until he was forced to admit that these people weren’t lying through their teeth.

It was too consistent and too layered; nearly-perfect from everyone he heard it from. That ‘nearly’ was the important part. Human memory was fickle and people were biased, and the story had distortions that could only come from something lived and recollected.

Yet the story also had holes that could only come from things being kept out of it.

But — despite all of Chad’s suspicion — a good many of those holes were patched up by the corkboard in the sheriff’s office; the candid polaroids of Finn, lopsided grin on his face with an arm around a pretty blonde wearing a red leather jacket that matched his own.

Both with silver stars pinned to their lapels, at that.

It was the brick wall to his suspicions, a roadblock in the path of all his logic; undeniable photo evidence months old.

Finn running away? Standard.

Finn putting down roots, enforcing municipal law, and dating a sleep-deprived supermodel waitress who actively lied to Chad’s face about their relationship? That was something else entirely. 

The bell above the door to Granny’s Diner announced him as he pushed through, nose already wrinkling at the smell of coffee he already knew to be a crime against humanity. Conversation dimmed around him by half the moment his loafers kissed linoleum, a couple dozen pairs of eyes flicking toward him before turning back to their mugs.

Chad didn’t break his stride, expression open and posture relaxed as he pretended like he didn’t even notice a few people nearest him already packing up their plates. Ambling toward the counter, he tucked his hands loosely into the pockets of his trousers. Finn, what the hell did you get yourself into?

Ruby Lucas stood at the opposite side of the counter today nearest the pie case, the server’s hair a tangled mess that somehow didn’t do much to take away from her looks. Another brunette stood in front of her as both traded friendly words; a petite bright-eyed woman with soft — and downright kind — features.

“Hey there, Ruby.” One hand resting on the red vinyl upholstering of a countertop stool, Chad leaned forward with a smile. “Packed in here this evening. What’s the occasion?”

The sound of his voice was enough to stall the woman, Ruby’s face half-frozen as she looked up at Chad. “No, yeah, it’s… it’s nothing.” Dark green eyes blinked his way as the words left her front-footed and raspy. “Just… it’s a party. A little get-together.”

“Really? What are we celebrating?” Chad tilted his head, gaze flitting from Ruby to the petite brunette. “Also, pardon me, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Oh no.” The brunette shook her head gently, words soft enough to match her face as she offered Chad a polite smile. “It’s no problem. I’m Belle, by the way.”

Hm.  He offered her a sincere smile of his own, one that actually reached his eyes, genuinely disarmed by her politeness and the gentle Australian-smoothed cadence of her voice. “Chad. Chadwick, actually. But nobody calls me that.”

“My birthday!” Ruby blurted the words out, clearing her throat as both Belle and Chad turned to look her way. “I… It’s my birthday. That’s the get-together. The reason for it, I mean.”

Belle blinked at Ruby, delicate features scrunching up in immediate surprise. Her mouth opened slightly before suddenly snapping shut as she nodded along. “Yeah, we’re just here for a small little thing for Ruby’s birthday.”

“Is that right?” The smile across Chad’s face widened just a bit as he let the lie sit. “Happy birthday, Ruby.” He turned around the diner, making a small show of his gaze sweeping the slowly-emptying tables. “A little odd, though. I don’t see any cake.”

“Well, not my birth-day.” Ruby’s expression stuttered, smile almost jerky. “Really, more my birth-month. The real thing is in a couple weeks.”

Chad raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t the craziest thing, of course, but still… I know you don’t think I’m stupid, Ruby. “Still, no cake?”

“No, I’m good. Never been the biggest cake girl. Besides, this isn’t the real party.” Ruby exhaled sharply through her nose, one arm resting over a blinking Belle’s shoulder. “I’m going out this weekend with my girls to a bar. That’s where all the gifts come out.”

“…uh-huh.” A small huff of laughter left him as he looked at Ruby leaning in closer to an awkward Belle. “How old are you this month?”

“Twenty.” Ruby’s chin lifted. “Why?”

“Underage drinking is a crime, Ruby.” Chad raised an eyebrow. 

Ruby rolled her eyes, jaw ticking. “Uh-huh. Sure, Boston. Write me a ticket.”

“That is a beautiful watch.”

Chad blinked as Belle stepped forward, a delicate finger toward Chad’s left wrist.

“Thank you.” Chad glanced down, posture easing. “It’s a Cartier Tank.”

“Cartier?” Belle’s eyebrows lifted. “I’ve heard of those. Aren’t they terribly expensive?”

Terribly? Biting down on the instinct to downplay what was normal to him, Chad simply smiled back at her. “It was a birthday gift. From my uncle.”

“Expensive car. Expensive watch.” Ruby scoffed, the sound rough and almost bitter. “What don’t you get for your birthday, Boston?”

Chad turned his attention back to the taller woman. “If you had simply told me it was your birthday, Ruby, you wouldn’t have to feel left out.”

“Wait…” Ruby blinked, brow furrowing. “You’d get me a birthday gift?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?” Chad held her gaze, unblinking as his smile stayed soft. “Someone that close to my family… it’d be rude not to.”

Ruby’s mouth snapped shut, eyes widening just a little. “I…”

Just tell me the truth, Ruby. Chad tightened his smile. Less embarrassing for both of us.

“Forgive me, Chad, but… you’re new in town, aren’t you?” The brunette interjected, her head tilting. “Why exactly are you in Storybrooke?”

Blue eyes narrowed slightly at Belle, not missing how Ruby’s shoulders seemed to droop at her friend’s question. “You don’t know?”

“No?” Belle blinked back at him, mouth half-open. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude.”

“No.” Chad echoed her, shaking his head. “Not rude at all. I understand.”

“You do look a little familiar.” One hand raised to brush hair behind her ear. “It’s just that when I’m not at the library, I’m working in the pawn shop. So, I don’t really… get out much.”

“I’m looking for Finn McHale,” Chad offered her a hand to formalize the introduction. “My runaway cousin.”

“O-oh.” The flinch was full-bodied, peach skin paling across Belle’s face as the young woman’s eyes darted toward the door. “I… please, excuse me. The… the books. I have to go.”

She didn’t wait for a response, Belle practically running for the exit as her cardigan fluttered behind her.

Chad stood perfectly still, hand still in the air as he stared at the woman’s retreating back. As the bell chimed behind her in a diner that Chad suddenly realized had completely emptied during their conversation, he turned back towards Ruby. “What was that about?”

“Overbearing boyfriend. Sheltered childhood.” Ruby scrubbed a hand over her face, breath coming out in a rough sigh. “Social anxiety,” she muttered, turning her back to him. “Girl’s a librarian too. They’re like that.”

“Is…” His eyebrows went up at the tired look on the face of the sometimes-server. “Is that an explanation or a list?”

“Chad, pick one of them. Or pick all of them. Your choice.” Another sigh left her as she turned around. “It was nice seeing you…”

As much as his ego wanted to believe that, Chad sorely doubted that was at all true.

Ruby huffed again, breath coming louder. “Look, I gotta get back to work, okay?”

Chad blinked, staring around at the empty space. Work.

He mouthed the word, but Ruby Lucas was already gone before he could actually put any breath behind it. The double doors leading to the back of the diner swung shut behind her, the blond left standing alone and in silence; surrounded by vacant vinyl booths as red as his cousin’s hair.

Finn… Chad let out a breath of his own as the silence of the diner pressed in on him, a weight of its own he had no idea how to lift. You absolute idiot.

It wasn’t enough that his cousin had to fight cops and get in trouble in Boston, but he apparently also had to get himself entangled with some small-town Children of the Corn cult bullshit on top of that. 

Either that or the idiot was just hiding and the townsfolk were covering for him until Chad moved on to look somewhere else.

Insane. It really was insane; the way both of those somehow came off like equally weighted possibilities. Why can’t any of this make sense?

Chad took a seat at the counter, the soft worn vinyl of the stool accepting him. He sat there for a good few minutes and, as if guided by Pavlov himself, his stomach chose that moment to announce itself. 

Great… His head fell forward in his hands, irritation warring with everything else; hunger included. Do I bother Ruby for dinner or…

Shaking his head, he quickly decided against it. Grocery should still be o-

A sound caught his ears, a harsh grinding echo from the back cutting clean through his thoughts. Are those… Blue eyes blinked as he rose from his seat. Power tools?

The sound of a circular saw was unmistakeable, at least. He’d been around too many construction sites over the years not to know that by heart.

Curiosity wasn’t one of his particular vices, not to the levels of his cousin at least, but family traits ran strong; strong enough to override his manners. Walking quietly towards the swinging doors, he pushed one open just a crack.

In the dim light of what seemed like it was once a pantry, Ruby and the old woman — Granny Lucas — were standing over a massive pile of construction materials. Sparks flew in a bright shower as Granny operated an angle grinder, the silver-haired lady driving industrial bolts into solid iron rebar.

Chad stared through the crack, blue eyes widening as his brain stalled out. A prison cell? 

Inside a diner pantry. 

A heavy-steel holding cell.

Maybe the cult thing is right. He let the door swing shut quietly, rubbing a hand hard over his face. “Jesus.”

I need some air.

Chad stepped out of the diner, cool evening air hitting his face. He needed to think. He needed to call Boston. He neede—

Chad paused his pace and his thoughts both as he saw someone walk out of the pharmacy across the street; a tall, broad-shouldered man.

The same man Ruby had dragged down the street two nights ago halfway to a panic.

Chad stepped off the curb, crossing the asphalt with an easy purpose in his stride to meet the man near the edge of the crosswalk. “Hey.” 

He offered a polite nod. “Grant, right?”

The man looked over his shoulder, wind ruffling his close-cut brown hair as he walked away.

“Who?”