Hoshkosh Flashbacks (Robin Little)

[Lorelai]

This scene is set in the summer of 2012.

"And don't go chasing that poor young man around again. Drop them off and come straight back."

I don't follow him around. Not like the other girls do. Do I? Maybe I do. No. Mum's just being mum. She says this every time we have a guest. Besides... He doesn't seem to mind the attention.

Lorelai walked over to the guest home that Robin was staying in and knocked on the door. She had fresh bed sheets to give him; at least that was the excuse she had to see him this time. It didn't matter how small the task was, if it involved speaking with Robin, Lorelai was happy to run the errand in place of her mother.

As she waited outside the door, the bedding bundled under one arm, she began to run her free hand down over her flaxen hair. Her long blonde hair spilled over both her shoulders, framing her naturally pretty face. Make-up wasn't something she had access too, so she looked exactly as nature intended. Of course some of the girls had make-up that they squirreled away for use outside of the property, but Lorelai so rarely left the land that she'd never felt the need to purchase any. Truth be told, she was also a good girl that respected the wishes of her parents and they certainly didn't want her embellishing her looks the way the outsiders did. Lorelai's style was simple too and she usually wore a long dress, flat shoes and if the weather required it a cardigan or a coat. The weather being what it was, today she wore only a pale pink dress, no coat or cardigan required.

“Robin. It’s Lorelai.”

She spoke up before knocking lightly on his door again. She could have just pushed the door open, as none of the homes had working locks on them but she’d been told it was rude to walk in on people unannounced and so she waited patiently outside. She looked around her once more, wondering if Robin was roaming the lands nearby.

I should just go in. Drop the bed sheets off. I could place them on the foot of his bed. Or… Hmm… I could make his bed for him. That’s would be a nice thing to do. He couldn’t be angry that I’d been in his room if I did that. Could he?

Her hand tentatively reached for the door handle but she stopped herself just short of actually laying her hands on it and barging her way in.

Patience Lorelai. Patience.

The summer breeze played with the skirt of her dress and sent her hair flying up around her face whenever it picked up, causing Lorelai to have to once again smooth it back down in to place. She didn’t mind the winds, even if they blew strong. She was used to adjusting to the elements about her and while many of the girls would have tied their hair back, Lorelai always preferred to have to cascading down her back, free and wild.

[Robin Little]

The commune had happened by happenstance. Not the commune itself, of course, but the fact of Robin’s staying there. And staying there by himself, too. It hadn’t been that way in the beginning. As with most thing Robin did, it had been a good idea at the time. And of course a girl had been involved. A fling with a hippie, who’d been in Harper Rock visiting with family for a few weeks. Robin had met her, and ‘fallen in love’ with her, and when she had left, had followed her. All the way to this commune. They’d got themselves a neat little cabin, and Robin had fallen into the easy way of life. The carefree attitude of the commune’s inhabitants. And, of course, it was cheap.

Megan had left, though. That relationship had gone sour, as they always did. For some reason or other, he just could not hold on to one girl. They always moved on. For Megan, perhaps her hippie-ness had been a phase. The commune just a doorstop that she could cross on the path to bigger and better things. As she moved on, however, Robin had stayed. He had nowhere else to be. He was but a mere tumbleweed, shifting through life at the whim of fate. He’d go and do what life told him to. He had nothing tying him down.

The knock on the door broke Robin out of the world he’d spun off into. The laptop was open on the small desk that he had pilfered from somewhere else. Beside him was a bottle of whiskey, half empty, which he poured into a paper cup. On the other side, an ashtray, near overflowing with cigarettes. He had one cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

As the small voice announced who it was at the door, he brushed away the fallen ash and hastily stubbed out the cigarette. He waved his hands around in the air as if that would disperse the stench of cigarette. The ashtray then got hidden beneath a newspaper. He’d never really squared it with the people who owned this place – was smoking allowed inside the cabins? Just in case it wasn’t, he made sure to try to hide his nasty habit.

His hair was at odd angles on his head. He hadn’t looked in a mirror for days, much less brushed it. He wore a pair of black pants, belted. His feet were bare, and over his torso there hung a loose black tank, over the top of which was an old blue cardigan.

When he opened the door to the young blonde, there was a bright welcoming smile on his lips.

”Lorelai!” he chimed. ”Lor! Lai? Lai-Lai…” his face screwed up as he ushered the girl inside. ”You know, your name can’t really be shortened. It sounds best as just Lorelai. Lorry? No no. That sounds like some kind of truck…” he rambled. He had a penchant for rambling. And for thinking too much about small things.

[Lorelai]

She rolled her eyes as he began to ramble. Oddly enough, he wasn't the first one to tell her that her name was difficult to shorten and most preferred to call her by her given name. Her ex-partners sometimes had other pet names they used for her but besides them, the majority of the residents in the commune called her Lorelai.

"Oh my stars," she began, waiving her hand emphatically in front of her nose to try and damper the smell of smoke that emanated from his cabin. "I realise that I am not an expert on the matter but I am pretty sure that, that habit is bad for you Robin."

Lorelai pushed past him and began opening up all the windows as far as they would go. The smell of the smoke while not unfamiliar to her, was so thick that she began coughing as she moved about the place. She'd been meaning to have this conversation with Robin for a while but she wasn't going to scold him like a child or embarrass him in front of people and so she so rarely got to spend any time with him alone. It seemed to her that the moment he stepped outside of his place, he picked up a companion or six.

Without asking to be shown to his room, she pushed the door open and went straight for the windows before placing the sheets at the foot of the bed. She had every intention of helping him change them, as he struck her as the sort of guy that would probably just leave the old sheets in place if someone didn't do it for him; before she could address that issue however, she had to go and hide the item he'd left out in the open.

"You know the rules Robin," she moved back into the front room and closed the lid of his laptop before picking it up and moving to place it in the draw of the desk. "You don't want to get caught with that. Leaving it out in the open for anyone to see is a bad idea."

The lack of technology in the place was intentional and while there were electrical sockets in every room (as there would be in any normal home) and most cabins did contain a few basic appliances, they were generally limited to just a fridge and perhaps a washing machine. Televisions, radios and the like were very rarely seen in Hoshkosh. Of course a couple of homes had them but they were seldom switched on as the people of the commune usually entertained themselves. There wasn't even a telephone on the property. Mainly due to the fact that anyone they wished to speak to, lived within walking distance.

"We don't make a habit of telling people to leave but if you get caught with that thing one too many times, I cannot guarantee that it won't happen. And. Well... I don't want you to leave yet. I feel like you only just got here."

She offered Robin a small smile but quickly turned her head to side so that he wouldn't see the colour rise in her cheeks. She wasn't so much ashamed of what she said, as it was true, as she was worried that he might take it the wrong way. He wasn't bad looking, far from it in fact, he was every girls type or so Lorelai believed. It was due to this that Lyle had taken an instant disliking to him, as he was worried that Lorelai 's heart might stray in his direction. Of course she wasn't so naive as to allow herself to think the guy would be interested in her and her main interest in him came from the fact that he was an outsider. He'd lived in the real world. And pretty much all outsiders fascinated her, as their stories were all so much more interesting than her own.

[Robin Little]

Robin rolled his eyes. He was perfectly aware of how bad smoking was for one’s health, but he was young and naïve and couldn’t give a ****. If he got cancer, so be it. Maybe, if he did, he’d kill himself before it ever got to the final stages; he’d not be a burden on anyone, and besides which, he had this deep-seated sensation that all the friendships and bonds that he’d forged were only fleeting. That in the end, no one would want to help him if he were to become so decrepit that he could not help himself—it was already like that. People realised he was a bit of a leech, all best intentions aside, and let him drift away without roping him back.

That was okay. Robin understood. Of course none of this was spoken out loud, not to this bright spark of a girl whose optimism was almost infectious.

When Lorelai mentioned the rules, he assumed she was still talking about the smoking. When he saw her fingers upon the lid of his laptop he sucked in a breath, and released a loud ”No…!” but it was too late. He strode over to the machine and wrenched the lid open again, hoping that the ‘sleep’ function had not kicked in. Because, for a very long time now, the ‘sleep’ function had not worked. Every time the lid of the laptop was closed, the computer instead shut down. All protocols were overridden. All work? Lost. It was a very old laptop and was in dire need of replacing. It overheated. It could not be used without being plugged in. When the screen blinked out of existence, he groaned, body falling forward, forehead thumping heavily against the wood of the desk.

”I’m a writer, Lorelai. As much as it might be relaxing here, it’s not going to be permanent,” he said, lifting his head and levelling the girl with a serious gaze, his mouth lacking its usual humorous smile.

”Life is a river and I’m just a leaf, and this is a shore that I’ve been deposited upon. But the tide will rise again, and I will be swept away,” he said with a flourish of his hand; he wore only an old, cheap digital watch, and no jewellery. There was no glint or glimmer to Robin. He wasn’t a shiny person. Just a simple man who could probably get his **** sorted out, but who is either too lazy or too incompetent to do so.

”I don’t know how a simple laptop can be a threat to anything here. I’m not even connected to the internet. It’s a simple and safe way to save my work because no self-respecting publisher, in this day and age, will accept a sheaf of handwritten paper as a novel. Besides which, I will need the internet, sooner or later. I will need… more technology than this. So, dear Lorelai, at some point I will be leaving, I just need to figure out where to go,” he says with a spread of his hands, and as much of a bow as his seated position would allow him.

[Lorelai]

To understand his reaction required a level of knowledge and familiarity with laptops that Lorelai just didn't have. While she knew he used the thing for writing, she didn't know that the work needed saving. Had she of known what she was doing, she probably would have checked and hit save before effectively closing the thing down. All in all, she simply had to conclude that Robin was melodramatic; a word she'd never before applied to any man she'd met. The men of her world were much more manly and dependable.

The theatrics continued and as much as his stern gaze should have had her concerned for what she'd done, she couldn't help but giggle. He was the perfect example of what awaited for her outside of the commune; at least she assumed as much. People of the real world were far more colourful and there was so much more to learn. As he bowed in what seemed to be the laziest manner possible, Lorelai moved to sit near him and seeing as he was seated at the desk, she felt it best to seat herself at his feet. She sat on her knees facing him and as her eyes met his, it was clear that she was trying to puzzle something out.

"I know you'll leave Robin. Everyone does. Our way of life isn't for everyone," she gave a soft sigh and cast her eyes towards the door in case someone was listening in. "I'm not entirely sure that this life is for me either. If I'm honest. But Lee's do not leave."

Her tone was mimicking that of her father as she spoke the last sentence. This was obviously something she'd heard a lot over the years and the expression that accompanied the words held a certain amount of ambivalence. Leaving home wasn't something her family was known for, three generations had all been raised here and the fourth was well on its way. Only Lee's carried with them another secret, something in their blood and the call of this was much stronger in Lorelai than it was in the others. Being in natural surroundings seemed to be enough to sate her family, but she wanted to unlock her full potential and explore the world. She wanted to be a part of something bigger than the simple life she knew.

"And you may be a leaf on the wind or waves of life Robin, but that does not mean that you cannot fight to maintain a little bit of control for yourself. If I ever find the courage to leave here, I'm heading for a city. Somewhere I can get lost."

Lorelai's features took on a wistful appearance, as this was something she obviously desired, though her eyes still held the look of someone who was ambivalent, seeing as she was both enraptured and fearful of the idea at the same time. She knew leaving would bring pain to her family but with every year that passed, she knew with ever increasing certainty that Hoshkosh wasn't the place she was supposed to be.

"I half envy you your freedom," she whispered.

Lorelai wouldn't look at Robin now as thoughts of what she wanted collided with those of duty and sacrifice, as that was what staying at home for her was. No-one understood her desire to leave, nor took it seriously. She wasn't one of the girls that hoarded forbidden items, she followed the rules. Lorelai believed in the principle of Hoshkosh but she also knew that she could take her principles with her and be of more help to strangers if she wasn't rooted in such a remote setting.

[Robin Little]

Robin found it odd, to have the girl sitting at his feet. He remembered a story he’d heard somewhere, about Gregory David Roberts. A guy who wrote one heft of a novel called Shantaram; one that Robin had never read, though it was on his list. It was the only novel the guy had ever written. But he had followers, because of it. Like he’d single-handedly created some kind of cult. Some event, somewhere, and the organisers couldn’t get him to leave; he had young girls seated on the floor around him, and he was sitting there imparting the wisdom of the world. And when finally they did leave, they all left together.

With that story in mind, Robin was forced to clear his throat and wriggle a little in his chair. If only the thing had wheels, and he might have rolled backward a little. Maybe it was the atmosphere. The general feel of the Hoshkosh. It felt like a cult. He just hadn’t been there long enough, or did not fit the requirements to be allowed into the inner circle. As if, if he did a little research and dug a little, if he spied on the other occupants and live-ins on the commune, he’d uncover a whole conspiracy. Devil worship, maybe. But that would require animal sacrifice and these people all seemed as if they’d break down in inconsolable tears if a single ant was stood upon.

Still, he stayed where he was. He tried to forget the work that he had lost. He could have scolded Lorelai, but who could scold that pretty face? So he just slouched in his chair and reached for the whiskey, taking a swig straight from the bottle. It burned on the way down his throat, and his face twisted, just for a moment, in alcohol-induced thought.

”Freedom isn’t something to envy. It’s something to grasp with two hands, and you don’t let go. Not even if it threatens to fling you into the heavens,” he said. ”Because that’s exactly what you want it to do. You want it to throw you somewhere unexpected. The only thing stopping you from taking your freedom and riding it wherever it’ll take you is fear,” he said. He paused. He narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, elbows on his knees and his hands clasped in front of him. His breath smelled like whiskey.

”Are you afraid, Lorelai? Or are you always going to do as you’re told?” he asked.

Maybe he shouldn’t have. Maybe he shouldn’t be encouraging this young girl to leave behind everything she knew and loved, everything that made her comfortable. But why the **** not, eh? If she wanted to be free, then she should be free, and he would be proud to have helped her realise this. If she didn’t feel free, then she should do something about that.

[Lorelai]

She was like a moth to a flame around Robin. Inexplicably drawn to him, even though she knew no good would ever come of it. It wasn't worth getting attached to him in any way. She knew from past experiences exactly how this all played out. He'd promise to write and maybe he would even remember to send her one or two letters but then the real world would distract him and she'd be forgotten.

As he leaned forward she was forced to shuffle back a little, the smell of the alcohol on his breath wasn't one that she enjoyed. Of course some of the residents of Hoshkosh drank but not the Lee's. They were expected to lead by example and so all of her family were completely teetotal. She was curious about the various liquors that she'd come into contact with over the years, but not so curious as to be tempted to try them. The very smell of them made her stomach churn. Perhaps if she were ever to find one that smelt inviting, she would try it, but until then she'd stick to the familiar liquids she knew and loved.

What he said struck a chord though. He was right. Everything he said made complete sense to her. If she wanted her freedom, it was hers to take. She was young. She shouldn't be living with her family because they wanted it, she should try to forge her own path; one that would make her happy.

'Is it that simple though? Could I really just walk away from everyone and everything that I know? Would it even need to be like that? Perhaps at first my parents would be angry but they'd come around. Wouldn't they? Am I just afraid to lose their love?'

She looked up at Robin with a soft smile on her lips. The smile however did not reach her eyes as her blue orbs reflected only a deep sadness. She'd spent many years waiting for someone, anyone to encourage her onto the path she so desperately wished to walk and now here he was, a visitor that would be likely be gone before the next full moon. How was she to maintain her resolve without a champion in her corner?

'I wish he were staying.'

She reached out her slender hand and patted him on the knee. "I know Robin. I know. I only wish it were that easy. I don't fear the unknown. I don't. I could leave tomorrow if..." she cast another nervous glance towards the door. "If only I knew they would be okay. I don't do everything I'm told but if I left... I'd break my parent's hearts and I'm not sure that I'm strong enough to shoulder that kind of pain."

It was a ridiculous fear. A parent's love was supposed to be unconditional and the bonds she shared with hers were strong. If she chose to leave, they wouldn't stop loving her. They could still love her, even if they didn't support her decision. A part of Lorelai knew this to be true and yet just the thought of telling her parents she was leaving pained her.

Her hand still rested on Robin's knee, as subconsciously she still needed his support. She needed to draw from his strength. He was everything she wanted to be; a leaf on the waves of life. She admired him and one day, God willing, she'd follow his example.

[Robin Little]

She wasn’t afraid of the big bad world, but was afraid of breaking her parents’ hearts. It was an unknown concept to Robin, whose own childhood had been a bit odd. He had a vague recollection of what his father looked like, but hadn’t seen the guy since Robin himself was ten years old. Or had he seen him since then? If he had, the meeting had been so fleeting and disappointing that it had been pushed from his memory.

The thought of his mother brought Robin a small pang of hurt; his mother, so gentle and serene, suffered seriously from bi-polar. She’d gone missing a few weeks ago, and Robin had woken up to a phone call from the police; she’d been found, and admitted to hospital. He had to travel a few towns over to go and see her. Fortunately, due to some miracle, there were government grants that helped her. There was his mother’s own savings, so scrupulously kept, which kept her cared for. Where once his mother might have been an influencing force, a lot of the time she was bat-**** insane. Independence had been forced upon Robin from a young age; his absences weren’t really noticed, after a while. He was breaking no one’s hearts by leaving—or so he assumed.

His own hand rested over Lorelai’s, patting it lightly. He still felt odd, sitting there in his chair while she sat on the floor in front of him, her hand on his knee. It wasn’t exactly an intimate position, but nor was it completely normal. How old was this girl, anyway? It was hard to tell. Robin had lost his ability to tell how old anyone was after he’d turned twenty-five.

”I’m going to be brutally honest with you here, Lorelai. Hoshkosh isn’t normal. In comparison to the real world outside, this isn’t normal. Your parents have kept you in a protective bubble of nothingness. They’re adults. They can get over it. And they love you, right? They should be able to accept the decisions you make for yourself,” he started. ”It’s like the Amish, right? They’re kept in their towns until their coming-of-age, and then they’re let out for however long it is. Is it a week? I don’t know. They’re let out to experience the wide world beyond their sheltered existence. They get their curiosity out of their system, and then they come back. Some don’t make it back. Some would prefer to stay out in the real world. And that’s the way the cookie crumbles. You should be allowed the same rights,” he said.

And, because he couldn’t stand how odd it was for Lorelai to be seated on the floor in front of him, he stood. He meandered on into the bedroom, where she’d left clean sheets. He knew that she’d make the bed for him if he didn’t make it himself, and so he began the not-so-arduous task of stripping the bed.

[Lorelai]

*Several days later*

"Yes mum."

Lorelai begins piling up the dishes as her family walk out of the room. Everyone had their chores; the dishes were one of hers. There was always the comforting thought that it could be worse, as she only had six people to clean up after (usually) instead of the entire community. Though tonight was different. Tonight Robin joined them for dinner. He ate with the family most nights, unless one of the other families insisted that he dined with them; something they usually did at the request of one of the daughters. Robin, being what and who he was, had the interest of most of the single females in the community.

Ever the diligent daughter, Lorelai set about her usual routine the moment everyone was finished and had signalled their intent to leave. To begin clearing the plates before this would have been rude. But once everyone began to disperse she was able to neatly stack all of the empty plates, as they were always empty in her household, with all of the cutlery on the top plate. Any bowls and dishes would then be stacked as best they could be and she would take them all to the kitchen. Sometimes this required several trips back and forth and of course she then had to wipe and stack all of the place mats.

Once everything was in the kitchen, she would fill the sink with near scalding water and set about the task of cleaning them with a natural cleaning agent that the people of Hoshkosh made themselves. Her hands were used to the extreme temperatures and she never complained.

Robin seemed to be lingering tonight, so as she finished stacking everything in preparation to take it to the kitchen, she turned to him and asked;

"Do you have any plans for tonight Robin? I heard Marribelle telling Poppy that you were going stargazing tonight. Though that would be much later I'd imagine, as the sun will not set for several hours yet."

As she spoke, she stood behind one of the chairs, her hands on either side of it, as if she were using it to steady herself of perhaps protect herself from the answer. It was no secret to those that knew Lorelai that she, along with every other female, had taken a shine to Robin herself. She half blushed, her head dipped slightly and she looked up at him through her lashes, her hair framing her face. She'd been dying to ask him his plans all night, as she suspected that Marribelle was lying, but to do so in front of her family would have confirmed for them her feelings for the wayward male.

[Robin Little]

There was one specific reason why Robin accepted the invitation to dinner – why he tried to extract one every evening. The fact was – the guy had no money. Not really, and nor did he have the specific skill sets to grow and make his own food for free, as many in this community seemed able to do. To be invited to dinner was to get free food. To be fed. And to thus survive. His acceptance of these invitations had nothing to do with any kind of attraction to anyone; he was oblivious to most, though if one of the girls decided to throw herself at him and demand physical attention, he’d probably give in.

He was male, after all, and he hadn’t had that kind of physical attention for a while, now. But it wasn’t a preoccupation.

At least Lorelai seemed a little more genuine than the others. Robin didn’t hold any grudges about the work that he’d lost the day that she’d closed the laptop on him; he’d made sure, from then on, that he only turned the laptop on when he was sure that no one would see him. When he was sure that no one would interrupt. In fact, his best writing time was at night, when everyone else drifted off to sleep. Which was why Lorelai’s question had caught him off guard.

He was lingering. He was intending to follow the girl into the kitchen with the intention of helping with the washing up; that was the thing with accepting invitations to dinner all the time. Sooner or later, there was a lingering guilt. He knew he was being a scheming ********; he knew that he was purposefully living off the mercy of others. And he was not an evil man. He was not completely selfish or heartless. The least he could do to repay the family’s kindness was to help with the dishes.

He stood from his chair and reached for the stacked pile of dishes, ready to carry them into the kitchen for Lorelai, brow furrowed as he tried to remember.

”****. Did I? I might have… if … maybe I forgot,” he said. He really couldn’t remember agreeing to go stargazing with Marribelle. Though he did remember the vapid girl mentioning something about liking stargazing. Truth was, he hadn’t actually been paying attention. He’d been helping to pick fruit, but daydreaming about his latest story. Had he agreed to something without realising? He groaned.

”I don’t think so?” he said tentatively, feet scuffing on the floor as he headed toward the kitchen.