Contrary to what her felon of a husband started telling her when the honeymoon phase of their relationship ended, Rebecca Munson is not a stupid bitch.
Well, she’s definitely a bitch, but she ain’t stupid. She’s made bad choices - letting herself get pressured into a shotgun wedding at sixteen to a man five years her senior, havin’ a baby at seventeen at home because she couldn’t afford a hospital, and too many failed attempts at sobriety to count don’t look too good on paper - but she ain’t stupid.
She knew the second that the cops came to their house at two in the damn morning to pick up John that he wasn’t comin’ back. She decided then, after ten G-d awful years of living with him, that she wasn’t comin’ back either.
Her family was across state lines and didn’t much like her since the wedding. But Wayne was two towns over and said to her, over and over again, that his door was always open.
(One Fourth of July, probably when Eddie was six or so, before John realized he wasn’t going to have a little football-loving clone and still humored him by playing tag, Wayne was a few beers in and told Rebecca, point blank, that she deserved to be doing so much better.
“But he’s your brother,” she said, pointedly not looking at the can in Wayne’s hand. It was her first try at staying away from that stuff, and she lasted a full two weeks until her next fight with John.
“That’s how I know you could be doin’ better than him,” Wayne said, taking a sip of his beer. “You’re a good woman, Becca. He ain’t a good man.”
Sometimes, she wondered what her life would be like if she listened to him then, if she didn’t need an arrest warrant to convince her of what she knew, deep in her soul, the second she said “I do.”)
So, that’s where she’s standing now. In front of Wayne’s door, hand poised to knock, Eddie at her side with his headphones on and music cranked loud.
“It’s fuckin’ freezin’,” she murmurs before knocking lightly.
“It’s August, Ma,” Eddie says. Not meanly, but not nicely either. He just says it.
Rebecca almost misses when he was little and tried to warm her up by rubbing his baby palms up and down her arms. She doesn’t miss when he had to call an ambulance for her. She definitely misses when he used to call her “Mama.”
She knocks again. Waits. Tries not to shiver because Wayne will know what that means, and she can’t take pity or rage right now.
She’s fucking trying. This is her trying, this is her quitting, this is her, hopefully, staying sober.
She doesn’t have John, shitty as he was, to fall back on anymore. Eddie needs her, all of her, so she needs to stay present.
The door opens a crack, then fully. Wayne stands there in his pajamas, sipping on a mug of coffee, looking surprised but not quite.
“John got arrested,” Rebecca says.
Eddie just nods, picks up his bag, and walks right on inside.
Wayne raises his eyebrows. “You know what for?”
“Second degree murder.”
“Jesus H. Christ.”
“And I ain’t payin’ for a lawyer for his sorry ass, so he’ll get some court-appointed schmuck, get sent to hell, and hopefully stay there,” she says brightly.
Wayne snorts and holds the door open for her.
His trailer is small, but they make it work. Eddie gets the bedroom, a notion which he puts up a losing fight to, Rebecca takes a cot they set up in the living room, and Wayne takes the couch. She offers to alternate nights with him, but he waves her off and says it’s fine, it’s comfy enough.
If Wayne liked women (Christmas, 1971, spiked eggnog heavy on the spiked all responsible for her knowing that bit of information) she should’ve married him instead.
He tells her, spotting old track marks and the tooth she lost last winter, that she better not bring any of that shit into the house.
It helps, though maybe not as much as it should. It means she has to rely more on chain-smoking cigarettes and drinking the beer Wayne likes than the variety of harder shit she’s been on and off of since she was seventeen.
Once again, fuck you John Munson.
It doesn’t quell the itch. The first few weeks at Wayne’s are hellish, between the sweats and the shaking and the dry heaving.
But all she has to do is look over at the door to Eddie’s room and remind herself that if she fucks up the same way she’s fucked up countless times throughout her boy’s life, then he has no one.
It’s just barely enough. She’s still drinking way more than she should, enough to not remember when or where she falls asleep, but it’s the longest she’s been off crank, so. Small wins.
She gets a job waitressing at the diner next door to the barber and across the street from the hardware store. It pays alright, and the farmers and miners tip her better if she leaves the first two buttons of her blouse undone.
Men.
Eddie ain’t doin’ much better. The kids at his school are mean sons of bitches, the kind that yank on his hair - he’s always liked it long, and Rebecca really doesn’t give a shit what it looks like as long as it’s clean - and slap his things out of his hands and make fun of the books he reads.
But he’s angry at the world, and he doesn’t take shit from anybody. They leave him alone soon enough, after a couple of fights Rebecca doesn’t blame him for getting into. Between the time he bit a boy’s shoulder after he punched Eddie and called him a fag, and the rumors about his music making him a Satanist - ridiculous, it’s just noise - they give him a wide berth.
He says it’s fine, but Rebecca knows. That boy thrives bein’ around people. Loneliness could kill him straight out.
It’s Wayne who keeps him alive. They fight like hell those first few weeks, the worst of it being when Eddie throws the salt shaker at him and screams about him not being his father.
There’s a new shaker, filled up to the brim, on the table the next day. She checks Eddie’s piggy bank while he’s at school and finds it, predictably, empty.
He’s a good kid. G-d knows if she was in his situation, she’d be angry, too.
Wayne tries to be involved. Tries talking about sports and hunting and other things Eddie doesn’t give a rat’s ass about. When Eddie goes on about the books he reads and the games he plays, Wayne’s face just goes blank.
In the end, it’s the music that does it. Rebecca spends weeks smoking and drinking and walking on eggshells only to find Wayne and Eddie on the couch, hunched over an acoustic guitar and listening to Johnny Cash.
She breathes a sigh of relief.
It’s better after that. There are fewer fights. The trailer is filled with music more often than not. Eddie makes friends.
And, after about a year and a half, Rebecca starts lookin’ to leave.
She’d love to stay here, but she can’t. Wayne was kind enough to take her in, but there ain’t no way in hell she and Eddie can stay forever. It’s time for them to get their own place, to get out of Wayne’s hair, to make a real, permanent life somewhere.
She looks around town, but there aren’t many places to rent, and the ones that can be rented are too expensive for her.
Eddie has been begging for her to let him go get a job, but she keeps putting her foot down. He didn’t get to be a kid when he was one, not with him always taking care of her and taking care to stay out of his father’s way, so he gets to be one now.
She owes him that much and more. So much more.
After a few months, she finds it. It’s a little ad in the paper, so small she almost missed it.
Honey Haven. Five miles outside Hawkins, Indiana. A newly planned, family-friendly community. All are welcome!
The number next to “prices as low as” catches her attention. She dials the phone number, and the sweetest lady picks up, patiently answering all her questions.
It sounds too good to be true. Rebecca tells the lady as much, and she, without hesitation, offers a no strings attached visit.
So, she figures, What the hell?
Part 1, part 2
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I'm interested in what the trains in your humanization prefer to eat (What if Henry loves apple charlottes?)
yes!!! eating is one of life’s biggest joys! always love talking and learning about food and watching people cook and eat and express their happiness, so this was a fun one to answer.
thomas a. billington: thomas needs something to chew or suckle on in the break room. think of any candy that your grandma would store on her detailed glass bowl. tootsie rolls, werther’s hard caramel candy, jolly ranchers… you get it. he doesn’t have any particulars when it comes to filling dishes and most of his diet consist of snacks and candies hence his thinner and shorter build.
edward pettigrew: he loves a good hot black tea with a side of rich tea biscuits or scones. he’s the guy who knows too much about tea. stomach ache? ginger tea. sleep aid? chamomile’s the way. for the more filling dishes, edward prefers light savory dishes with feta cheese involved. he’s really fond of fërgesë from his home country, but there’s no place on sodor that could make a mean one, so he settles with making it at his own home.
henry stanier: sliced apples! when he’s in a good mood, he’d shape them into little bunnies. he likes anything savory with a strong taste too, like his mother’s curry. henry loves a full course, hearty meal that tastes and feels good, and growing up, he’s always had a large appetite (fast metabolism). henry doesn’t like anything greasy or deep fried because it’ll make his stomach acid flare up. I had to look up what apple charlottes is, and yeah, I can tell you that henry would love it.
gordon j. gresley: gordon has a sweet tooth but he’s self conscious about it and has an image to uphold so he’ll tell anyone who’s making him coffee to make it black (he adds a packet of cream and sugar when nobody’s seeing) without anything added (his friends see right through him). his favorite dessert is orange float with a big scoop of vanilla ice cream on top. gordon also likes food that is usually eaten together with friends or family (something something lazy susan) like pork roast or kway teow or thick beef stew with mashed potatoes. big portions are necessary!
james a. hughes: sweet margarita is james’ favorite drink to have during outings with his friends. he also loves a good french onion soup, especially paired with croutons (do not make them too hard or he’ll riot!!). speaking of croutons, james loves fondue and he always fights over it with thomas. really, any food that looks good and makes him look well-off would be on his favorites list (please, james, why does most of these dishes involve alcohol in one way or another). he also likes sweet danish pastries.
percival “percy” avonside: he’s a simple man when it comes to food he likes. sandwiches are the way to go! carbohydrates, proteins, the tasty stuff — it’s all there! eggs benedict (he puts another english muffin on top so the sauce won't spill everywhere) is his most favorite since it makes him feel special and fancy. percy also loves good coffee, usually mixed with condensed milk or mocha, since he delivers the night mail train.
tobias “toby” holden: tiramisu is his favorite dessert and he prefers it made with more coffee content. he has helped out henrietta many times with making it to the point he’s has the process memorized. for savory dishes, he loves some good lasagna with extra beef content in the sauce. it’s gotta drench. really, toby loves his layered food huh
montague “duck” collett: he’s not picky when it comes to food given to him, so he just eats what any average joe would eat (eggs on toast for breakfast, sandwich for lunch, sausage with potatoes and peas for dinner). normal person food. duck makes sure he has his meal three times a day and follows the motto; “eat before you’re hungry, stop before you’re full.” also diesel made mango panna cotta once for him as a desperate token of apology and duck fell in love with it.
donald and douglas dunalastair: like thomas, they don’t really have much preference for filling meals. dessert, though? now that’s the stuff. donald loves cranachan so SO much he wishes he could eat it every day. douglas likes candies more instead of softer, silkier desserts, like black licorice or peppermint candy. they also eat only twice a day since they get full super quickly. amazing how so much strength for shoveling snow is stored behind their lanky bodies. they also drink irn bru
oliver t. swindon: oliver loves shepherd's pie because it’s practical. everything he needs is right there, fitting for someone who doesn’t like complicated things. as for the sweet stuff… even after forgetting some of his memories after his rescue, oliver remembers the feeling and taste of halo-halo on his tongue clearly, something he missed dearly.
giovanni vin diesel: diesel loves bruschetta. he puts some pepper flakes on top for that spice kick. he also loves sfincione, specifically the way his family would make it, but, like edward, nobody on sodor knows how to cook a decent one (too much sauce, too thick of a bread, or too soggy) which makes him a bit sad. diesel’s kind of picky when it comes to the meals he can consider “favorite” because he believes he’s the most qualified in the culinary field on sodor due to his upbringing.
mavis hawthorne: a slice of blackforest cake always makes her heart sing. not too heavy on the whipped cream, though, because she doesn’t like her desserts too sweet. she also likes baumkuchen. whenever toby cooks lasagna, he’d make another portion to give to mavis, which quickly became her favorite and something she looks forward to during lunch breaks.
rebecca nassif: rebecca likes snacking a lot. she finds joy in eating! she grew up surrounded by meals. like diesel, because of her upbringing, she’s always been an enthusiast of not only food, but culinary arts as a whole. she loves cold desserts that usually remind her of her old neighborhood like this pistachio kulfi that she would made when she was younger. rebecca also missed having knafeh and mafruka since moving to sodor (it’s been like... a week.)
nia e. wanjala: whenever nia feels like treating herself to something good, she’d make her own version of the gatsby sandwich at her house. she’s especially keen on the french fries and enjoys extra hot sauce with it. it’d take two meal times for her to finish it all. lately, nia’s also been enjoying pastries like chocolate muffins and bombolone (chocolate fillings are her favorite).
lady: as part of her mission to understand humanity and their intrapersonal relationships, lady developed an affinity to eating. she’d eat anything as long as it’s acceptable by human standards even though she doesn’t have to. lady wants to understand that people eat not only to survive but as a way to show their love and culture. isn’t the greatest blessing to be bestowed upon living things the ability to consume to their heart’s content? does her lack of mortal needs indicate her lack of personal desire? anyways her favorite foods are fish and chips with sweet mayonnaise on the side and soft serve vanilla ice cream.
diesel 10: his go-to is black coffee mixed with red bull (added with some other weird concoction if he feels like it). some scrambled eggs with a dash of hot sauce for breakfast. some fried bacon if he has some self respect for the day. some dried sardines if he wants to feel miserable. some baklava with extra syrup and pistachio if he wants to treat himself because the sound of the crunch eases his stress
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