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One thing John would never understand about Reginald Crane was his persistence to keep him involved in his life. Amends had long since been made, yes, but it still didn"t mean their history could have been forgotten. Yet here they were, most of the way to the barn of one of Crane"s associates, for one purpose and one purpose only: Corn Husking.
When Crane had first announced one of his favourite pass-times to him, John was somewhat taken aback. Afterall, that man had grown up in the middle of England, to his knowledge, far from anywhere rural, and had since been shipped to America by the Agency and lived there ever since. It wasn"t the sort of thing he"d expect from him, and yet, he considered, Crane did always find ways to surprise him (who knew he could sing that well?). If anyone would have had a favour for corn husking, it would have been himself, John Juniper, the farmboy turned actor from Indiana.
Of course, Crane wasn"t overly familiar with that fact, so when he"d asked Juniper to join him, he"d spent an exhaustive amount of time mulling over the best techniques that he"d learnt over his, as John found out, years of experience.
"You"re quite the natural at this." Crane had said with that beautiful buzz to his voice. At the time, John hadn"t had the nerve to tell him about his prior experience. It was just easier to have him ignorant to his upbringing,
John had been reflecting on all of this during the last stretch of their walk up to the bard. Reginald had been going in about his time as a field agent, and to which Juniper felt rather guilty about not listening to with any attention.
"...and that was my first experience with plastic explosives. Ah, well, never mind that now, my dear boy, we"re here." Crane concluded, much to John"s relief.
"So I see." He commented as he watched Reginald go through the motions of unlocking and opening the barn.
"Now, it"s just us today, John. The owner is a good friend of mine, and it"s the season where there"s more corn to buck than he and his staff can husk," Reginald told him with a beaming smile as they made their way through the barn. "This is where we come in...well not necessarily you and me, but a group of us fellows will gather and have a grand time doing it. We"d go until it got too late, or more commonly, we ran out of corn."
"That sounds nice." John realised how dismissive he sounded and was about to say something more, but there was just no stopping Reginald when once he"d gotten excited about something. Juniper was then led to a spot which a couple of hay bales opposite one another, to which he was instructed to sit on, and an incredible amount of corn that was stored in the back of a trailer.
"Right this lot should take us up into the evening given the current time, which will be brilliant because the way the sunset looks at this place is truly something," John listened and watched as Crane pulled over a large wooden basin and positioned it between the two hay bales before seating himself, continuing on. "So, this is for the leaves and stems from the corn, and the actual cob we can just pop back onto the trailer. You remember what I showed you the other day, yes?"
"How could I forget?" John said with a smile, to which Reginald let out a good natured chuckle.
"Then let"s crack on."
And from that point, the pair existed in relative silence. It wasn"t awkward, mind you, far from it. It was that type of quiet you don"t realise washes over you until you"re reminded of the moment. For John, this was a particularly stubborn stem which had caused him to look up at Crane. He didn"t need help, because he almost instantly pulled it off after that point, but it"d felt right to do so.
There was truly few times that Juniper forsook his passion and specialism in performing arts (after all, the debacle with Zoraxis was a lesson in hubris, not theatre), but it was times like these that made him wish he had a knack for visual arts. Reginald hadn"t even noticed he was looking at him, and continued to peel the piece of corn in his hands. His face was that of a passionate concentration, one you would only find on someone who had truly mastered their craft. However, in that moment, there was more than that. The way his strong hands worked and everything being furthermore emphasised by the dim late-afternoon light that filtered through the barn made Reggie look perfect, and John couldn"t place how to feel about that. He took to preoccupying himself with a fresh cob.
Once again, John rejoined that silence, and with it, he fell into that rhythm of corn husking Crane had gushed so much about. If only he know how familiar it was to Juniper, and how it was one of the first jobs his father had ever given him to help out on the farm. What a quaint little childhood he"d lived. Honestly, he couldn"t remember the last time he"d thought about it. All throughout his youth, his father had gotten it into his head that the farm would next be his, and then his son"s, and so on and so fourth. The American Dream, his father would go on about it, to the point of his mother"s boredom, and oh then they would bicker.
It wasn"t until his teens that he"d truly found a passion for showbiz (that and the fact that John found he quite liked a boy he"d see in town, of which would hurt him more than he realised). This was something that was not shared by his parents, because what was Hollywood to a Farmboy? John had spent far too many hours arguing with his father, all of which were followed with him having to do the most gruelling farm work his father could muster up for him. That was until, selfishly, he"d had enough, and John packed his bags and chased auditions until he made it.
And he had made it, but look at him now, right back where he started.
"Blimey John, you work quick!" If I didn"t know better, I"d say you"d have been doing this longer than me."
John looked up at the other man half dazed. Of course, he was with Reginald, who was currently stood up moving the last of the unpeeled corn to a point they could both reach. There was a curiosity in the way Crane looked at him, but also a gentleness, something John couldn"t bare thinking about what could mean.
"Well about that, " John croaked out with a sigh as the other man sat back down, but instead of grabbing a fresh cob, he kept his attention towards Juniper, leaning in slightly.
"Do go on," Crane said, his voice edged with that curiosity his face betrayed.
John sighed again. "I think you know, I was born in Indiana, Agency and all that, and, well, I grew up on a farm. Not really the glamorous upbringing of a Hollywood star, that and I didn"t leave my parents on a friendly note, so I always strayed away from it in interviews. My old man taught me how to do this as a kid."
He waited pensively for Crane to take in his words, policing the expressions on the other man"s face. Leftover hostility training from Zoraxis briefly ran through his head, something about always analysing the enemy, or was it and old director hollowing in the back of his mind? It didn"t matter, so John shoved it to the back of his mind. Reginald Crane was not his enemy, and the relationship they had was far from a role for John to play. He was one of the best men John knew, willing to give him a second chance, and that was something John would not take for granted.
"Why...Why did you not mention it earlier? When I was showing you what to do:" Crane asked with a baffled voice and a furrowed brow, as if his mind was racing just as much as Juniper"s.
Juniper weighed his words before he spoke, because why had he? It would have been easier to say something then, but then again, he would have missed out on Reginald giving him the most specific instructions for a relatively simple task (a passion he only saw from the man if he asked about the right thing), and more importantly to him, he would have missed out on Crane"s hands ghosting over his own as he helped him with the movements.
"I believe it"s because you were so excited to show me. I couldn"t say no to you, I suppose. Making you happy mattered more to me in that moment." John concluded, maybe a little sheepishly, but it"d felt like the right one.
From what he could tell, Reginald hadn"t been expecting that answer, because it took him several moments until he finally found a response. "That"s.. incredibly sweet of you John, I- ..hah, thank you, genuinely."
That fantastic smile plastered itself upon Crane"s face once more, and John returned it the best he could. There was a brief quiet before Crane spoke again.
"So, if you don"t mind me asking, what kind of farm did you grow up on?"
John once again thought again before he spoke, God, it"d been so long since he"d thought about all of this. "Nothing special, we grew mostly seasonal plants. It was a small plot, one my father bought when he moved to America. Thought that he"d build up a name for out family after the Great War. "Course, I had to go and ruin that for him."
"Your father moved here?"
"And my mother. They were Polish. Like I said, they hoped to build something good for themselves here. I don"t really know much about their home country, though, we never went back."
Reginald nodded, and looked at him kindly. Not in a way that felt patronising, but one that put John at ease, that made him feel less self conscious about talking so openly about himself like this.
"There"s part of me that"s surprised that you never shared this in interviews, after all, it"s a pretty classical tale of chasing that Hollywood fame."
"My relationship with my parents was sour after I left home, I figured the best way to apologise to them was to give them some peace away from my fame. Though, that also meant that I gave them peace away from myself. I honestly don"t remember the last time I saw them, I think they still live on that farm, though."
"Why don"t you go see them?"
"They think I"m dead, Reggie. They went to my funeral. I"ll probably never get to see them again, never get to explain myself."
There was a weight that hang between the two of them then, before Reginald reached over and took one of John"s hands. "I"m sorry, I didn"t think."
"No it"s alright. In all honesty, it"s probably better this way."
"Still, I wouldn"t wish that on anyone."
John gave him a sad smile. "Thank you."
"Of course," Reginald said politely, pulling his hand away and looked back at the trailer of corn. "Well, there"s not that much corn left now, thanks to you, shall we finish up?"
John agreed, and from that point, they finished in relative silence before Crane took to packing up the corn neatly in the wagon, while John took the basin of peelings to the composter.
"It truly is a lovely evening." John commented as the two left the barn. The sky had the beginnings of washings of pink & orange, and as he looked across the field, he was hit with a pang of something he hadn"t felt in a long time.
Reginald rejoined his side as soon as he was done locking up the barn. "It reminds me of that old saying, ah, what was it, "Red sky at night, Shepard"s delight"."
"Delight sure is the right word for it." John said as he continued to look across the fields with a smile. Most of them had been picked of their crops now, but still, deep in him rang the old memory of him as a child, running through a field of freshly watered rapeseed, getting absolutely soaked as his father lost him in the stalks.
"Come along then," Crane instructed, reaching out behind him and taking John"s hand. "It"s a long walk to the edge of the field."
And so they went. John hadn"t thought about how Reggie had held his hand in the barn, but he was thinking about it very much now he was doing it again. Though, Juniper supposed that in a big empty field, there was noone to see, and so he held the other"s hand a little tighter, and let him lead ahead.
Just this once.