whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

Okay. We'll go. [Bang. Comes out faster than he can even think about it. Because they're a we. Going together would make it more enjoyable. Scoping out pizza joints, seeing how tall that fucking Empire State building is. Taking in that whole skyline from a hotel room, yeah that's part of his plan already.

All the talk about LA, a city he dreamed of as a kid himself pulls Larry out of his slowly expanding fantasy.]

Why the fuck not? Sounds like people don't know how to draw it. That's all.

[Woah, wait. Faster? At his side, Larry increases speed too.]

Hey. Getting close to the edge there. Stop. [.....he knows how to stop right?]

Okay, Larry. [And just like that the kid accepts it. Just like he said they'd go get tacos. It sounds right to him, why wouldn't he say no to something like that? Like we.]

Uh.

[That's not for his remark on drawing the LA 'skyline' either. Behold, Lawrence Dimick, the reason why Freddy Newendyke says he can't ice skate. The kid leans his weight one way to follow the curve of the pond's edge, but taking it too fast only makes him go toe to toe with the edge on the end of the curve. He comes to a stop there...by pitching forward face first into the snow. And here Larry thought it was his ass that needed investing.]

[New York is for pizza, LA is for tacos. At least that is what is stomach tells the old bear. The point of it all is the company.

The same company that's heading face first into a snow bank. Oh wow. He didn't see that one coming or else he would have sped up, anticipated to try and grab him. Or...tried to walk him through it.]

Shit.

[Two seconds and he's right there.]

Y'alright? [No rocks hidden under the snow, hopefully.]

Everything is movable?

[Freddy gets up on his hands and knees. The pants keep his jeans from getting damp at least. Shake shake shake. He shakes that floppy haired head much like a dog.]

I'm alright. I think. Cold. [Now he grabs a hold of that big paw to hoist himself up.]

[A moderate hoist in case Freddy is too ready to get launched back into the motions again.]

You wanna try that again? This time slow it down. [Or rather, the snow dog gets to do the moving. He'll observe.]

This time don't bother leaning forward, turn both of your skates to the side. Think of it as skidding to a halt rather than a dime stop.

I'll try.... [And back onto the ice the snow dog goes, already getting back into his original (slower) pace.] I told you I couldn't skate.

[Because that sounds less ridiculous than 'I can't stop.']

Bullshit. You can skate, you're fine tuning.

[Which sounds better than, you don't know how to do it right. No need to crush his ego anymore. Plus, when you say you're going to teach someone how to do something, you don't flat out say they can't. That must have been in a sport flick.]

Once again. Ease into it all. No rush. Gain a little speed to glide then stop.

Okay, coach.

[That's said with tons of affection as Freddy gains a little more speed to circle the entire (small) rink once...only to come gliding towards Larry who may or may not have the reflexes to get out of the way soon.

Aw not really he's gonna stop...or try to. He does just as directed, glides and turns abruptly. This only ends in the kid speeding in the turned direction...then tripping forward on his toe stop. This fall happens right on the ice, sending Freddy gliding to a nice slow stop at the edge.]

Ow...

[High expectations had the old man thinking he would have stopped before bumping him. But bumped he then gets out of the way and attempts to grab Freddy before he slips. Oi. Larry rubs his forehead. That's gotta hurt.]

Okay. Hold still, I'll help you up. Nothing feels funny?

[Two scoots and he's right there, helping that lug up eyeing the ice for blood. Any scraping on that face?]

Just my face. Feels a little numb.

[The kid rubs at it while getting lugged back onto his feet. No scrapes or blood, just red on the right side of his face.]

It's a lot easier on wheels.

[Two sets of hands can rub at it. Smoothing over his eyebrow and rubbing the not-quite-there-at-all sideburns.]

Could just be the cold. [It don't look bad besides the red.]

I never tried it with wheels. [Is it that easy? ...or is it that hard? Larry's thinking over other ways to explain a stop.]

Tell you what. Stay there. [He can stay still in one place right?] Watch me a few times, then I'll break it down. Then you try again.

You can't stop like that with wheels.

[For the record. And yes he can stand still gosh the kid's not so inept, old man. Freddy just nods against those hands then turns to stand by and watch. Larry's going to make it look easy, he knows it.]

I'm watching.

Rubber brake pads wouldn't work on ice anyways.

[Okay. Okay. Sheesh. He doesn't want Freddy to bust his head or break something. So sue him. Alright, since he's playing spectator, Larry goes for a quick little turn about the rink...pond.]

I'm gonna put more weight on one leg than the other, it's kind of a scoot.

[Turn, scoot, which makes him come to a stop.]

Like that. See? [Repeats the scooting sort of motion while he's standing still.] Kinda like you're trying to scoot a can that might be full out of the way. You don't wanna kick it or that shit'll get all over your shoes.

[Oh he's watching, listening, drinking it all in because that full can hasn't budged. Then after the demonstration and instruction, the kid has one observation to make.]

You know, you're real light on your feet. [For a guy like you, his tone implies.]

[What the fuck Newendyke that was not the point of the exercise. Larry doesn't smack his own forehead but he certainly looks at the other man. It's a compliment so he doesn't need to get that indignant but this is a learning exercise, shit come on kid.]

On ice.

[The kid as seen him run. Bears aren't known for speed or agility then unless they're leaping to maul. Something like that.]

Need me to do that again? If I can do it, you can do it.

[Oh come on old man, he was paying attention, he just couldn't help but make that observation too. See, the kid's good at looking like he's doing one thing while also doing another. But really there's no need to go down that road of conversation now that Larry's well aware of Freddy's capabilities...as something other than an ice skater anyway.]

No, not yet. Let me try it.

[He insists, back to business now. The kid glides a bit to gain more speed, not as much as the previous time, so when he does scoot it's to a sort of stop. Nothing abrupt and certainly without any spray of ice. But, it's a stop. He wobbles.]

Like that?

[Who the hell knows what they're teaching officers these days, and rarely is Larry ever an admirer of these things but this kid here's got talent.]

Okay sure.

[He pulls back to watch, not making a peep in case if that is counter productive. Not quite a complete stop. It's a California roll. Still, the old man beams.]

Atta' boy. Do it again.

Okay, coach.

[Again with the names, or is it a pet name? Freddy picks up speed to turn that California Roll into an all out stop... He doesn't succeed the second time and even hops onto a toe pick to prevent himself from kissing the ground. Again.]

Shit that was a close one.

[Can it be both? Hearing it, the way it's said...well, the look on the old man's face should be enough. Though he tries his best to keep optimistic.

Yes.

Yes.

Oh.]

Okay. Close that time, honest. Try just the scooting. Need somethin' to hold onto?

[Have an arm.]

[Freddy actually looks around again as he takes that arm. He's holding onto it like an athlete for the record, none of this Rockefeller Center stuff. The kid would rather save that for New York City. One day.]

Don't complain if I knock your skate.

[He warns, as if Larry wouldn't already know how to jump ship to avoid a collision.]

[If only Freddy would say that out loud, because then Larry wouldn't feel so ridiculous for thinking that. One day they will go skating and see that gigantic Christmas tree.]

I'll deal.

[He says that now.]

What are you waiting for? Get movin'.

I'm moving I'm moving. [Larry's nothing like a drill instructor but Freddy's giving him a look as only a player would to his coach. Pacing now he sees the pond's edge coming up.] Okay I'm gonna stop now.

[Fair warning, Dimick. One, two, three! He turn-scoots. Whether his blade locks with Larry's or not is up in the air. He's still holding onto the guy though.]

The movin's good. Not a problem. You're good at it.

[That's not a come on at all. Two can observe and convey a little something special in the meaning. A couch would focus on what needs to be done.]

Okay, hotshot. Stop.

[Yeah, it was fair warning. Again Larry's too confident that he'd keep them both up. The locked skates, when did that happen? Freddy goes but Larry hits first. One hand gets squished between the kid and the ice. Is it just cold or is the throbbing in his fingers something else?]

Fuck.

Shit!

[So much for being good at it. Rather, what good is being good at moving when you can't stop? He rolls off Larry but is careful not to get on his feet. Those blades are dangerous don't you know? Freddy sits on his ass instead only to reach out and pat the old man on the shoulder.]

You okay?

Mmmhmmmph! [That's a tight noise in the back of his throat because he's processing exactly what it is now that the blood is flowing through his fingers...finger really. Trigger finger. Goddamn.

It didn't feel good for the rest of him to hit the ice but that's eclipsed by the kinda heart beat throbbing going on.

Larry shakes it out some, hoping it isn't a sprain. Okay. Shaking not a good idea. Brown eyes look at the kid.]

I'm fine.

[Swift exhale.]

But I ain't no madman.

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