Bonnie Murdock (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
is_the_motion) wrote2016-01-06 09:26 pm
is_the_motion) wrote2016-01-06 09:26 pm
(no subject)
It was a long queue to get a marriage licence. One time, she had to duck her head to avoid being seen by one of her recent pupils and his partner, who by the looks of things, were in a similar hurry to get married.
But it's looking like they've been forgotten, until eventually a harried looking lady comes over with their application form, and beckons them over to a desk.
"Mrs Murdock, we're going to need to see some documentation of your husband's death."
"Documentation?" Bonnie echos.
"A death certificate? Something from the military?" the lady asks.
"I don't have anything like that." Bonnie says, before telling her story about how Bill was initially missing, believed dead, and how it took her a long time to believe it.
The woman shakes her head, and then goes to look if there is anything at all in their records about a William Murdock. After another half hour, she comes back with another document.
"It says here that he and you fostered a child, Ernest, in 1944." she says. "Didn't you say he died in 1943?"
Bonnie goes slightly red. "I put his name on the form because I didn't believe he was dead." she says. "He and Ernie never met." Beat. "The social worker already told me off fer that."
"Since you didn't register the death yourself, you're going to need to get some documentation from the military." the woman says, sighing and shaking her head. "It shouldn't be too difficult, but I can't issue you a marriage licence without some evidence your husband is dead."
She turns to Turtle. "And what about you? Have you been married before?"
"Yes, I'm divorced." Turtle says.
"What date?"
"1945." Turtle says.
"Yes, what date in 1945?" The woman asks, starting to look impatient.
"Well I don't know, it was over ten years ago." Turtle says.
"Right, well while your fiancée finds some documentation for her husband's death, you need to find some about your divorce." the woman says firmly.
"But what if we cain't?" Bonnie asks.
"Then you don't get a marriage licence." the woman replies. "This ain't Vegas, ma'am."
***
"So, Vegas wedding?" Bonnie asks, as they make their way up the drive back to her house. She stops to pick up a random sock on the ground - Ted's by the looks of it - with no real feeling of surprise. Socks seem to get everywhere in this place.
"I'm up for that." Turtle says, nudging her and nodding. "You've got company."
Bonnie looks up again. There's one of her neighbours glaring at her. She marches straight up to him and looks him straight in the eye.
"Mrs Murdock?"
"Mr Warrington?"
"The fat woman that lives with you." Mr Warrington asks, folding his arms. "She some sort of nutcase?"
"No, why?" Bonnie folds her arms in return.
"Well what the hell was she doin' on my front lawn puttin' blindfolds over my gnomes' eyes?" Mr Warrington demands.
"Community art project." Bonnie says, without skipping a beat. "It's symbolic."
"Of what?" Mr Warrington demands incredulously.
"Jesus, of course!" Bonnie says, shaking her head. "It's all about the way the good Lord is watchin' over us, so nobody else need. She got a very artistic streak, gets a little carried away with her enthusiasm."
She waits to see if he bites the lie, and although he looks sceptical, it seems to work. Or at very least, he glances at the watching Turtle, who is quite a bit bigger than him.
"Well you tell her to stay off my property unless she got permission in future." he says eventually. "And I'm takin' the blindfolds off, it frightens the children."
"I will be sure to let her know, you have a good day now." Bonnie says, going into the house. Turtle follows her, half amused, half bewildered.
"Hey Red, been meaning to ask you." he says, once they're inside. "Does Lucy have some problems?"
"Yeah, but she's totally harmless." Bonnie says. "Put the kettle on, I'll go talk to her."
But it's looking like they've been forgotten, until eventually a harried looking lady comes over with their application form, and beckons them over to a desk.
"Mrs Murdock, we're going to need to see some documentation of your husband's death."
"Documentation?" Bonnie echos.
"A death certificate? Something from the military?" the lady asks.
"I don't have anything like that." Bonnie says, before telling her story about how Bill was initially missing, believed dead, and how it took her a long time to believe it.
The woman shakes her head, and then goes to look if there is anything at all in their records about a William Murdock. After another half hour, she comes back with another document.
"It says here that he and you fostered a child, Ernest, in 1944." she says. "Didn't you say he died in 1943?"
Bonnie goes slightly red. "I put his name on the form because I didn't believe he was dead." she says. "He and Ernie never met." Beat. "The social worker already told me off fer that."
"Since you didn't register the death yourself, you're going to need to get some documentation from the military." the woman says, sighing and shaking her head. "It shouldn't be too difficult, but I can't issue you a marriage licence without some evidence your husband is dead."
She turns to Turtle. "And what about you? Have you been married before?"
"Yes, I'm divorced." Turtle says.
"What date?"
"1945." Turtle says.
"Yes, what date in 1945?" The woman asks, starting to look impatient.
"Well I don't know, it was over ten years ago." Turtle says.
"Right, well while your fiancée finds some documentation for her husband's death, you need to find some about your divorce." the woman says firmly.
"But what if we cain't?" Bonnie asks.
"Then you don't get a marriage licence." the woman replies. "This ain't Vegas, ma'am."
***
"So, Vegas wedding?" Bonnie asks, as they make their way up the drive back to her house. She stops to pick up a random sock on the ground - Ted's by the looks of it - with no real feeling of surprise. Socks seem to get everywhere in this place.
"I'm up for that." Turtle says, nudging her and nodding. "You've got company."
Bonnie looks up again. There's one of her neighbours glaring at her. She marches straight up to him and looks him straight in the eye.
"Mrs Murdock?"
"Mr Warrington?"
"The fat woman that lives with you." Mr Warrington asks, folding his arms. "She some sort of nutcase?"
"No, why?" Bonnie folds her arms in return.
"Well what the hell was she doin' on my front lawn puttin' blindfolds over my gnomes' eyes?" Mr Warrington demands.
"Community art project." Bonnie says, without skipping a beat. "It's symbolic."
"Of what?" Mr Warrington demands incredulously.
"Jesus, of course!" Bonnie says, shaking her head. "It's all about the way the good Lord is watchin' over us, so nobody else need. She got a very artistic streak, gets a little carried away with her enthusiasm."
She waits to see if he bites the lie, and although he looks sceptical, it seems to work. Or at very least, he glances at the watching Turtle, who is quite a bit bigger than him.
"Well you tell her to stay off my property unless she got permission in future." he says eventually. "And I'm takin' the blindfolds off, it frightens the children."
"I will be sure to let her know, you have a good day now." Bonnie says, going into the house. Turtle follows her, half amused, half bewildered.
"Hey Red, been meaning to ask you." he says, once they're inside. "Does Lucy have some problems?"
"Yeah, but she's totally harmless." Bonnie says. "Put the kettle on, I'll go talk to her."