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tamingthemuseTitle: Just Another Working man
Fandom: Carnivale
Prompt: Salt of the earth
Warnings: Spoilers if you haven't seen some of season 2. Minor though.
Rating: PG
Summary: Ben just wants to be normal.
Ben Hawkings raised his head to the sky and squinted. The sun was high above and only marching higher. It was already hot and working had made him sweat. He wiped his forehead clean and than coughed. His mouth was dry, but he ignored it. He got enough teasing from the other works as it was without going for a drink every five minutes. It was almost like a test of endurance, see who broke and got water first. Ben didn’t plan to be labeled the girl of the day.
Ben liked working. It was hard, his hands bleed sometimes and he was tired a lot, but it was nice. It was normal, wholesome work that made everything in his life make sense. Get up, put a tent up, do whatever needed to get done and go back to bed. Maybe eat somewhere in there, but nothing more complicated then that.
He turned his head from Samson who was coming this way. He didn’t want to talk to him. He always made Ben remember that he wasn’t another guy digging holes for spikes and getting dirty. He was something twisted, something wrong. He hadn’t asked for any of that. He didn’t want it. He wanted to work hard and get what he earned. Maybe move up someday to somewhere nice and retire, but until then couldn’t he pay his dues then move on?
“Boy,” Samson said standing beside him and Ben still refused to face the little man.
“What?” Ben asked in a grumpily tone, hoping it’s anger the other man out of his business.
“We need to talk,” Samson told him urgently.
“Got nothing to talk about unless it’s got to do with the fact the main tents got a hole in the side. Want me to patch it up, sir,” Ben said driving his shovel into the ground with his back turned to his boss. Samson walked around him and forced Bento face him.
“This ain’t about tents boy. You should have more important stuff on your mind. You know, things is going to come up sooner or later and you gotta be ready to deal with the real world,” Samson told him.
“Real world? This is the real world I’m in right now. Working hard for a days pay. Sweating in the sun. Interacting with good old, salt of the earth people that don’t put up with none of this fairy tale nonsense,” Ben snapped keeping his voice down and leaning on his shovel. Samson didn’t seem to be letting up, but damn he was going to give into the shrimp with control issues. It was a horrible way to think of his boss and friend, but lately he’d wanted to talk about nothing else than that thing Ben could do that he ignored.
“This ain’t your world no more, never was. You’re a freak, more so than any of us. Only it ain’t as obvious because it don’t show on the outside. It’s tucked inside and hidden away, but don’t you mistake it as being normal. Makes you worse than most of us is,” Samson said looking exasperated and turning on his heel. He marched away, yelling at the next man he passed about something.
Ben watched him go than shook his head. He wasn’t some midget or wolf boy. He was a healthy, white, young, American man. That’s why he worked. Along with all the other carnies doing what they did to get by. He wasn’t no different and no side show performer was going to make him feel any different about that.
Fandom: Carnivale
Prompt: Salt of the earth
Warnings: Spoilers if you haven't seen some of season 2. Minor though.
Rating: PG
Summary: Ben just wants to be normal.
Ben Hawkings raised his head to the sky and squinted. The sun was high above and only marching higher. It was already hot and working had made him sweat. He wiped his forehead clean and than coughed. His mouth was dry, but he ignored it. He got enough teasing from the other works as it was without going for a drink every five minutes. It was almost like a test of endurance, see who broke and got water first. Ben didn’t plan to be labeled the girl of the day.
Ben liked working. It was hard, his hands bleed sometimes and he was tired a lot, but it was nice. It was normal, wholesome work that made everything in his life make sense. Get up, put a tent up, do whatever needed to get done and go back to bed. Maybe eat somewhere in there, but nothing more complicated then that.
He turned his head from Samson who was coming this way. He didn’t want to talk to him. He always made Ben remember that he wasn’t another guy digging holes for spikes and getting dirty. He was something twisted, something wrong. He hadn’t asked for any of that. He didn’t want it. He wanted to work hard and get what he earned. Maybe move up someday to somewhere nice and retire, but until then couldn’t he pay his dues then move on?
“Boy,” Samson said standing beside him and Ben still refused to face the little man.
“What?” Ben asked in a grumpily tone, hoping it’s anger the other man out of his business.
“We need to talk,” Samson told him urgently.
“Got nothing to talk about unless it’s got to do with the fact the main tents got a hole in the side. Want me to patch it up, sir,” Ben said driving his shovel into the ground with his back turned to his boss. Samson walked around him and forced Bento face him.
“This ain’t about tents boy. You should have more important stuff on your mind. You know, things is going to come up sooner or later and you gotta be ready to deal with the real world,” Samson told him.
“Real world? This is the real world I’m in right now. Working hard for a days pay. Sweating in the sun. Interacting with good old, salt of the earth people that don’t put up with none of this fairy tale nonsense,” Ben snapped keeping his voice down and leaning on his shovel. Samson didn’t seem to be letting up, but damn he was going to give into the shrimp with control issues. It was a horrible way to think of his boss and friend, but lately he’d wanted to talk about nothing else than that thing Ben could do that he ignored.
“This ain’t your world no more, never was. You’re a freak, more so than any of us. Only it ain’t as obvious because it don’t show on the outside. It’s tucked inside and hidden away, but don’t you mistake it as being normal. Makes you worse than most of us is,” Samson said looking exasperated and turning on his heel. He marched away, yelling at the next man he passed about something.
Ben watched him go than shook his head. He wasn’t some midget or wolf boy. He was a healthy, white, young, American man. That’s why he worked. Along with all the other carnies doing what they did to get by. He wasn’t no different and no side show performer was going to make him feel any different about that.
