I'm happy with it, though. I have found, oddly, that I've put more of Mark in the first chapter than I did in the original. When I first started writing Headphones in high school, he was meant to be the main character partnered with Jessie, but I somehow lost that when I was writing the serial. Not sure what'll happen this time around, but hopefully I will get into his POV a little more in this version. So here we go with week two!
Voices from the foyer pulled him (Mark) out of his reflections and he glanced at the clock. Almost midnight. Surely they could pick this up tomorrow. Or better yet, take tomorrow off and pick it up Monday--at the office. Without asking the others, Mark shuffled papers, gathering them and shoving them into their corresponding folders. The women shrugged at each and followed his lead. No one said anything until Lenny walked in to lean against the island that dominated the middle of the room.
“Elinor with you?” Honey asked.
“Oh. I just thought you were talking to someone when you came in.”
Lenny grinned. “A Priest, a Rabbi and a half-starved kid walked into the bar tonight.”
After a good 20 second pause, Mark prompted Lenny with “And?”
“What’s the punchline?”
“No joke. A Priest and a Rabbi were in the bar tonight. Then a half-starved kid came in. She looks like she’s been living off the street.”
“And you are telling us this because…?”
“She’s in the living room, bunked out on the couch. I got her one of Elinor’s nightgowns. I figure we could get her settled in one of the third floor bedrooms tomorrow. Oh, and we’ll have to do something about clothes. All she has is what she’s wearing.”
Mark, taking a deep breath, and knowing he was going to regret asking, asked anyway. “Why did you bring her here?”
“Had to do something with her.”
“Yes, but we’re not a home for wayward strays.”
“She belongs here.”
“And I suppose your ESP told you that.”
Lenny shook his head in exasperation. Why they insisted in perpetuating that old joke, he could never understand. He was just good at reading people, that was all. And occasionally he knew who was on the other side of the door, or who the phone was for before it rang. He was just intuitive. He didn’t care what anyone said. Not even Elinor. While it was true her great-grandmother had immigrated in the early 1900s from Hungary with her family when she was only a girl, it didn’t make her an expert. Even if she had her own gifts. And seemed to have a talent at reading the Tarot cards she’d inherited from her grandmother. And yeah, she’d taken care of the ghost that had terrorized the little basement bathroom, but that had nothing to do with him.
“No, listen. She got up on stage with Mick and just started playing with him. She’s amazing and he wants her in the band.”
“Oh, well, okay. If that’s what Mick wants.” He didn’t even try to hide his sarcasm.