birds of a feather, obx

004. miss mary mack

Rosie's face scrunches up in annoyance when she wakes up to people talking. She huffs, turning to her side, her back facing the noise.

"All I'm worried about right now is makin' sure you two are in a safe home." She freezes at the mostly unfamiliar voice.

"Yeah, super safe." She hears John B says. "Super sound, sturdy. You know what I mean? And Uncle T's coming back, so..."

"That what he told you?" She recognizes Peterkin's voice. Rosie pretends to be asleep, not wanting to get stuck in the conversation.

"Yeah."

"Well, if he really is coming home, I think you two should be allowed to stay."

"Thank you."

"But if I stick my neck out for you, you have to help me." Peterkin tells them. "Tit for tat."

"What-- what does tat mean?" John B asks.

"Let's see, how can you help me? Oh, I know. So, a body was found in the marsh yesterday." Peterkin says. "Were you in the marsh yesterday?"

"Yeah, we were fishin' for some drum."

"You catch anything?"

"Nah, we were skunked."

"Strange. Fishing's usually good after a storm. All sorts of things get stirred up. You come across a wreck yesterday?"

"No."

"You skimmin' just above the surface, John B. Now, down here is foster care, juvie. Pretty big drop for a smart kid like you. Up here is you and your little friends doing whatever you want. Outer Banks... or foster care on the mainland. You one inch above the surface. If I was you, I'd start flapping my wings. Especially if you don't wanna lose that little girl. Now, you sure you didn't come across a wreck yesterday?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure."

"It's better that you didn't. Do you understand? I'm gonna look the other way, as long as you stay out of the marsh." Peterkin says. "I got dogs livin' better than this, John B. Might wanna think about cleaning up. Morning, Rosie." She leaves.

John B throws an empty beer can at the wall.

Rosie sits up, moving over to her brother.

"Are we fucked?" Rosie asks.

"Hey!" John B chides.

"You guys say it all the time." She pouts.

"Okay, well, when you're 10, you can say it. For now, it's "screwed."" John B says making Rosie roll her eyes.

"Well, are we?" Rosie asks.

"No. No, we're fine, Rosie Posie." John B says, lightly pinching her cheek.

"I hate that nickname." She grumbles, swatting his hand away.

"Go get dressed." John B puts her on the floor, gently nudging her towards her room. He sighs as she leaves, rubbing a hand over his face out of frustration.

+++

Cora sighs, waking up. She looks around confused, positive she fell asleep in a tree last night. Getting out of bed, she quietly walks to the door. She opens it, wincing when it creaks.

Cora tiptoes across the hallway and into JJ's room, shutting the door behind her. She walks over to JJ's bed where the boy is fast asleep.

"J?" She calls, tapping him on the back. "JJ." She pokes him in the forehead. "J." She whines, shaking his arm.

"What?" JJ groans, not opening his eyes.

"I'm hungry." Cora says and JJ groans.

"Go find some cereal or something." JJ says.